CHAPTER 19
THE NEXT DAY FLEW BY, and suddenly Kriss and I were arriving at the other girls’ reception in conservative gray dresses.
“What’s the plan?” Kriss asked as we walked down the hall.
I considered for a moment. I disliked Celeste and wouldn’t mind seeing her fail, but I wasn’t sure I wanted her to do it on this grand a scale. “Be polite, but not helpful. Watch Silvia and the queen for cues. Absorb everything we can … and work all night to make ours better.”
“All right.” She sighed. “Let’s go.”
We were on time, as was crucial to the culture, and the girls were already a mess. It was like Celeste was sabotaging herself. Where Elise and Natalie were in respectable deep blues, Celeste’s dress was practically white. Put a veil on her, and this was a wedding. Not to mention how revealing it was, especially when she stood next to any of the German women. Most of them were wearing sleeves to their wrists despite the warm weather.
Natalie had been put in charge of the flowers and missed the detail that lilies were traditionally used at funerals. All the flower arrangements had to be removed hastily.
Elise, though clearly more agitated than she usually was, appeared to be the image of calm. To our guests, she would look like the star.
It was intimidating, trying so hard to communicate with the women from the German Federation —who spoke very broken English—particularly when I had so much Italian in my brain. I tried to be hospitable; and despite their severe appearance, the ladies were actually quite friendly.
It became clear pretty quickly that the true threat of disaster was Silvia and her clipboard. While the queen graciously aided the girls in hosting the German guests, Silvia walked the perimeter of the room, her sharp eyes missing nothing. It seemed she had pages of notes before the event had ended.
Kriss and I quickly realized that our only hope was to have Silvia fall in love with our reception.
The next morning, Kriss came to my room with her maids, and we got ready together. We wanted to make an effort to look similar enough so it was clear we were in charge but not so much alike we looked silly. It was kind of fun having so many girls in my room. The maids all knew one another, and they talked animatedly behind us as they worked. It reminded me of how things had felt when May was here.
Hours before our guests were supposed to arrive, Kriss and I made our way to the parlor to double-check everything one last time. Unlike the other reception, we were forgoing place cards and letting our guests sit wherever they liked. The band came to practice in the space, and as a lucky bonus, it seemed our choice of fabrics to cover the bland walls made for great acoustics.
I straightened Kriss’s necklace as we quizzed each other on the conversational phrases one last time. She sounded very natural speaking Italian.
“Thank you,” she said.
“
“No, no,” she replied, facing me. “I mean thank you. You did an amazing job on this, and … I don’t know. I thought that after Marlee, you might give up. I was afraid that I’d be doing this alone, but you’ve worked so hard. You’ve done great.”
“Thanks. You have, too. I don’t know if I would have survived if I had to work with Celeste.
You made it almost easy.” Kriss smiled. I meant it, too. She was tireless. “And you’re right; it’s been hard without Marlee, but I wouldn’t quit. This is going to be great.”
Kriss bit her lip and considered for a moment. Quickly, as if she might lose her nerve, she spoke.
“So you’re still competing then? You still want Maxon?”
It wasn’t like I didn’t know what we were all doing here, but none of the other girls had spoken about it like that. I was caught off guard for a moment, wondering if I should answer her. And, if I did, what would I say?
“Girls!” Silvia trilled, rushing in through the doorway. I’d never been so grateful to see that woman. “It’s nearly time. Are you ready?”
Behind her, the queen came in, a soothing calm to balance Silvia’s energy. She studied the room, admiring our work. It was a huge relief to see her smile.
“Almost ready,” Kriss said. “We just have a few details to take care of. One we specifically need you and the queen for.”
“Oh?” Silvia said curiously.
The queen approached us then, her dark eyes warm with pride. “It’s beautiful. And you both look stunning.”
“Thank you,” we chorused. The pale-blue dresses with large gold accents had been my idea.
Festive and lovely, but not too over the top.
“Well, you might notice our necklaces,” Kriss said. “We thought that if they were similar, it would help people identify us as hosts.”
“Excellent idea,” Silvia said, scribbling on her clipboard.
Kriss and I smiled at each other. “Since you are both hosts here, too, we thought you should have ones as well,” I said as Kriss pulled the boxes off the table.
“You didn’t!” The queen gasped.
“For … for me?” Silvia asked.
“Of course,” Kriss said sweetly, handing over the jewelry.
“You’ve both been so helpful. This is your project, too,” I added.
I could see how touched the queen was by our gesture, but Silvia was completely speechless. I suddenly wondered if anyone at the palace ever gave her any kind of attention. Yes, we’d thought up the idea yesterday as a way to get Silvia on our side, but I was glad we’d done it for more than just that now.
Silvia might be overwhelming, but she did try to do all this instruction for our benefit. I vowed to do a better job of thanking her.
A butler told us our guests were arriving, and Kriss and I stood on either side of the double doors to welcome people as they came. The band started playing softly in the background, maids began circulating with hors d’oeuvres, and we were ready.
Elise, Celeste, and Natalie were walking toward us, surprisingly on time. Once they caught sight of our setup—the billowing fabric covering the drab walls, the sparkling centerpieces towering on our tables, the overflowing flowers—there was a clear ache in the eyes of Elise and Celeste. Natalie, however, was too excited to be bothered.
“It smells like the gardens,” she said with a sigh, practically dancing into the room.
“A bit too much like it,” Celeste added. “You’re going to give people a headache.” Leave it to her to find fault with something beautiful.
“Try to sit at different tables,” Kriss suggested as they poured past. “The Italians are here to make friends.”
Celeste sucked her teeth, acting as if this was putting her out. I wanted to tell her to pull it together: We had been on our best behavior for her reception. But then I heard the warm buzzing conversation of the Italian women as they came down the hall and forgot all about her.
The best way to describe the Italian ladies was statuesque. They were tall, golden skinned, and absolutely beautiful. As if that wasn’t enough, they were all so good-natured. It was like they carried the sun inside their souls and let it shine out on everything around them.
The Italian monarchy was even younger than Illea’s. They had been closed off to our attempts at friendship for decades, according to the packet I’d read, and this was the only time they’d ever reached out to us. This meeting was the first step toward a closer relationship with a growing government. It had been frightening to think about until the moment they walked through the doorway, and their kindness melted my worries. They kissed Kriss and me on both cheeks and yelled
I happily tried to match their level of enthusiasm.
I botched some of my Italian phrases, but our visitors were gracious, laughing off my mistakes and helping
