“How does one design such a massive tree?” asked Megan.
He motioned toward the workers. “These are the experts. This once, I feel we should dress the tree as they recommend and not rock the boat. Mum will expect it to be picture-perfect.”
“May I be so bold as to ask for my own personal, table size tree in my room?” This year, she’d like to hang the Tiara ornament in her room. The theme of the gift from Ms. Claus seemed all too coincidental and accurate, demanding at the very least, her private recognition.
“You can ask for the moon and I would try to deliver it to your door,” said Ryan.
“Thank you. The tree is fine for now,” she said. They sat on the couch and watched the men string hundreds of lights, and when they turned them on to test the layout, they heard gasps at the door. Princesses, Jasmine and Eramosa had arrived.
The youngest raced to Ryan’s side and hugged his waist fiercely. Looking up into his face, she mouthed the words, “Thank you, for rescuing me.” Megan noticed the guardian taking her place off to the side and bit back the grin. Ryan bent and whispered in the child’s ear and immediately arms transferred to Megan and she could barely hold back the tears the action generated. It felt so good to be hugged.
Soon James and Suzanne came in search of Ryan and Megan, and now a party of six slowed the advance of the expert crew. No one dared to openly disagree with ideas from the royal family but on the sly, shifted items here and there to compensate for balance.
“When I was young,” Megan told the girls, “the entire family had specific jobs; one did the lights, another the bulbs, tinsel, ribbons, and my part was to spray the tips of branches with snow.”
“Snow!” squealed Eramosa. “I want snow on the tree.” She appealed to her brother. “Ryan, where can we find snow in Edstrom?”
Ryan shrugged his shoulders and glanced at James for the answer. “I believe they sell an artificial brand in cans that you spray on, sir.”
“Can we?” Jasmine danced. “I’ve seen pictures of Christmas around the world and winter wonderlands are my favorite.”
Ryan nodded to his right-hand-man. “Can you see to that, James? The family wants snow. Mum shall have to bend this tiny bit.”
A voice at the door spoke in a firm tone, and everyone in the room silenced and pivoted to face her. “What does Mum have to do?”
Ryan moved toward his mother. “Jasmine was saying how she appreciates photos of wintry-white landscapes and apparently you can buy the stuff in a can at the store. Meg says you just spray the tips of the branches, as if real snow landed and stuck there.”
“Meg says that, does she?” The stately woman dressed in a green suit, wore a crown of chestnut hair wound tightly on top of her head. She turned her attention to the newcomers in the room. “And which of these lovely ladies is Meg?”
Ryan rushed over and grabbed her hand, winking before he turned to escort her to his mother. She’d seen the staff curtsy when the lady of the house walked in the room and hoped she could mimic their action.
“Mother, I’d like you to meet Megan Fairchild, an American guest from Springvale, in the Americas.” He turned an encouraging smile toward Meg. “This is Queen Ursula Jamane Edstrom, my mother and the most beloved female in all the kingdom.” He chortled when Megan managed a curtsy then turned playfully to the older woman who scanned the younger from head to toe. “Until I take a bride, of course, who will undoubtedly win the favor of the people with her outgoing charisma.”
The noble did not rebuke her son with words but Megan recognized the motherly scolding that told all. She refocused her attention on Megan. “And do you think our country needs a Queen that wins favor by belittling herself to the whims of commoners?”
Megan could kick Ryan for bringing such a conflicting subject into the introduction. She swallowed the lump in her throat and decided to ride the fence. “As a visitor to this wonderful country, Your Majesty, I could not hope to know what the people want in their leadership.”
“Wisely answered.”
“But from what I’ve seen, your son has a great rapport with the villagers, and is wise beyond his years.”
“With all the training his father has poured into him, I should hope so. His Coronation is in five days. Has he invited you?”
Ryan interrupted. “Not as yet, Mum, but I was getting around to it. I would love for Megan and her friend, Suzanne,” he backed up and yanked the woman clear of James’ grasp, “to attend both the induction and the ball. They will be our guests until the New Year.”
Suzanne did her best curtsy, and smiled. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty. Thank you for opening your home to me.”
The Queen mother huffed politely – if that were possible – and pressed through the middle of the group that had formed. “As if I had a choice,” she murmured while her eyes bore into Ryan on the way toward her daughters. “What’s this I hear – you want snow on the tree?”
“May we, Mum?” pleaded Jasmine, her round eyes shining brighter than the lights glittering on the tree.
“Appears I am a pushover these days. Yes, you may have your snow, but not on the tree in the Ballroom. The public will expect it to look as it always has. And be sure not to leave a mess on the carpet for the staff to clean.”
Queen Mother turned back to Megan. “Will you join me for tea in the parlor?”
“I’d be delighted,” said Megan, not sure if
