by Cora Caraway
The diamond captures a beam of sunlight, refracting it into a million colors. “I don’t know if I can wear this much rock. What if I lose it?”
“Then I’ll buy you another. I would have gotten a nicer one, but this was the best I could find on such short notice.”
I’m not sure how this diamond could be improved upon, except in size. I’ll have to watch out. Any nicer and I won’t be able to lift my hand.
I twirl my new ring around my finger. “When did you get this? You haven’t had time to leave the palace, have you?”
“Special delivery. They make certain concessions for princes.”
I can’t quite shake the sense that this is a dream that I’ll wake from at any moment. “Why do you do all this for me?”
“You deserve everything, and I want to give it to you. Speaking of which, we have a plane to catch.”
“Is Rashad going to drive us to the airport?”
He takes my diamond-clad hand in his, eyes shining mischievously. “We could go to the airport to catch one of those bulky planes, though I would prefer something faster, and far more stylish.”
“Like what?”
He nods toward the jet in the corner.
My mouth falls open. “Can we really ride in that?”
“I should hope so.” He seems pleased with my enthusiasm, though I can’t help it. I’ve never ridden in a plane before, let alone a craft as elegant as this.
As we approach, a door pops open on its hull. A set of stairs unfolds before us, covered in plush ivory carpet. Not only do the Lions have a jet, apparently they can afford to have it staffed and ready to fly at any time. I guess it’s good that I restrained myself earlier. Damon and I weren’t as alone up here as I thought.
The interior of the plane is cool, a relief from the heat of the rooftop. Every surface is the same creamy ivory color, even the oversized leather chairs. It would be a nightmare to clean, though I bet these flight attendants have to deal with fewer spilled drinks and crushed peanuts than their commercial airline counterparts.
I look down the length of the cabin. There are three rows of chairs, and a narrow aisle to one side. I don’t see any sign of a crew, though.
“Take a seat,” Damon says. “I’ll just have a quick word with the captain.”
I choose the front seat that’s more of a couch as he disappears inside the cockpit. I wonder who’s piloting us if not Rashad, who seems to be the family’s master navigator.
Damon reappears, carefully latching the door behind him. He sits next to me, closer than necessary with all the space we have available to us. I don’t mind one bit.
“Where are we going?”
He puts an arm around me. “That’s a surprise.”
The prince really does love surprises. I’ll have to surprise him myself one day, but in a good way. Not like last night. I cringe inwardly. I have to stop thinking about that. I make myself focus on Damon. He’s still here, isn’t he? He even has an arm around me, and his leg presses against mine. My fiancé is still here, and I want to thank him for that. But what could I get him that he doesn’t already have? This is going to be challenging. I have a lot to think about.
The jet rumbles beneath us as the engines warm up. I clutch the armrest, tingling with nervous anticipation.
The engines whine, rising to a keen. We’re still pointed at the edge of the roof. I don’t know much about planes, but I do know that you need a runway. At least there’s a wall to keep us from tumbling off the edge of the palace. I’m sure the pilot is experienced, but it’s hard for me to trust someone I’ve never even seen.
I swallow, trying to keep my voice from quavering. “Is there enough runway for us?”
Damon puts a hand on my knee. “That’s the best part.”
I’m about to ask if he should check on the pilot when the engines roar. I can feel the jet tremor with the sheer power it’s unleashing, but the strangest thing is that we’re not moving forward.
We’re lifting up.
I gape at the scenery as the jet ascends. The clay roofs and shimmering office buildings lie far below. The encroaching sea is deep green today, but thin white lines are the only sign of crashing waves. I’m pressed against my seat as the engines scream, launching us forward.
Then we’re gliding, everything quiet as we slip into a cloudbank.
There’s a whole other world up here. We’ve entered a kingdom of clouds full of wispy pillars and spires. The jet’s wings cut through them all, leaving whirling spirals in their wake. I try not to press my nose against the glass. It would be unseemly to leave a print.
“Do you like it up here?” Damon asks.
“I love it.” It’s difficult to tear myself away from the clear blue sky, but I’m rewarded with his hazel eyes.
“You can use it any time you like. Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”
After I left California, I never stayed in one place for more than a week. I hopped from one cruise ship to another, working my way down the coast of Mexico, through the Panama Canal, and across the Atlantic to Europe. I’ve sailed into the Mediterranean, and planned to keep going until I got all the way around the world. Even a month ago, I could have rattled off a list of places I was dying to see. Rio de Janeiro. Cape Town. Tokyo. Auckland. I didn’t realize it until now, but I haven’t felt that itch of wanderlust since I met Damon. If he never wanted to leave, I’d be happy to stay with him in the City of Lions forever.
“I’ll go wherever you go.”
He grants me a tender kiss on the cheek. “I’ll try to do the same. I’d be remiss in my duties if I left the city too often, I’m afraid. But if you ever get the urge to get out, I’ll do my best to make it happen.”
“That sounds good.” I wrap my arms around my chest. The plane was delightfully cool when we were stepping off a blazing rooftop, but now I’m getting chilled.
Damon puts his jacket around me, then adjusts a dial in his armrest. I no longer feel like I’m going to start shivering.
“You can change the temperature without speaking to the captain?” I ask. “This is a nice plane.”
“You think that’s nice?” Damon strides to the cockpit, unlatching the door and letting it swing open. I’m afraid he’s going to get scolded by an angry pilot, but nothing happens. The prince looks so proud. I go to his side, wondering what he wants me to see.
My stomach drops. There is no pilot.
“It’s a prototype,” Damon says. “We got the first one on the market. All you have to do is type in your coordinates, and the jet flies you there itself.”
Tottering back to the chair, I sit heavily. “What’s flying us, a robot?”
“More like a program. As long as it maintains clearances to fly and to land, there’s no other work involved.”
I never know what’s next in this world. Being engaged to a billionaire prince is going to take some getting used to.
Damon sits beside me, lifting my legs into his lap. “I promise you, it’s perfectly safe. I wouldn’t let you fly if there were even a hint of risk. Our program is actually safer than a human pilot.”
I’m not sure I believe that, but I guess I have no choice. Maybe my lack of a travel bug is a good thing. Once I get back to the city, I’ll think long and hard before stepping foot on a robot jet again.
“That’s probably enough talk about planes,” Damon says. “What would you like to do for our wedding?”
Oddly, I hadn’t thought about that part at all. A lot of little girls dream about their wedding day, but I dreamed about lifting a painting from the Louvre. I still do sometimes. I won’t tell Damon though, or he’ll never take me anywhere nice.
“Well,” I say, hoping that Damon won’t realize that I’m stalling for time, “what would you like?”
“You’re the bride. I want to hear from you first.”
Crap. I know Damon likes big events, like the masquerade ball he threw to introduce me to the court. I have no family to invite and would be happy with a
three-person wedding. After all, no one is required besides the bride, groom, and officiant. But if my prince wants to go big, I can give that to him. It’s our wedding after all, not just mine.
“Could we do something on the palace grounds?” I ask. “All your family, the court, anyone your father wants to invite. I’m sure there are political intricacies that I’m not aware of, so let’s not leave anyone out.”
Damon takes one of my feet in his hands, slowly massaging the ball with his thumbs. “You’re fine with a big, formal affair then?”
“Yeah. It’ll be fun.” I know that’s what he wants to hear. Damon smiles, and I relax into a heavenly foot rub. I try not to think about the huge crowd that will gawk at us, and how I’ll be the center of attention with everyone’s eyes on me.
Damon switches feet. “We can discuss more when we get back. I just want you to be happy.”
I am happy. Aren’t I? My anxiety fades as Damon works his thumbs over my arch. He’s rich, and royalty, yet doesn’t hesitate to rub my feet to make me feel better. My prince is a good man, and a big wedding is a small sacrifice. And who knows? Maybe this will be fun after all.
I’m not aware of falling asleep, but I wake with a jolt as we land. Damon lends a hand to help me up.
“Where are we?” I ask groggily.
He opens a door into blinding sunlight. “A perfect day for a change. Not a cloud in sight.” The stairs unfold before us. Somewhere, I hear the deep reverberations of a clock chiming.
Damon takes my arm in his. “Welcome to London.”
3
A double decker bus whizzes by below us. In the distance, I can see the London Eye on the Thames.
I stand on the edge of the rooftop, trying to take in all the sights at once. “This really is London, isn’t it?”
“I know it’s sunny, but is it really that hard to believe?” He laughs. “Come on, we have an appointment.”
“Give me one more minute.” I lean over the railing, which must concern Damon because he firmly grabs my waist. “Do you think we could ride the Eye? The view from up there must be incredible.”
Another double decker rolls by, filled with tourists brandishing cameras. One of them shouts, pointing at the jet. I’m blinded by flashes as the cameras turn toward us.
Damon scowls, pulling me away. “No consideration…” he mutters.
A door opens onto the roof, and a brunette with a clipboard strolls out. “Mr. Lion, I presume?”
“Yes. And I’ve brought Grace Sparrow with me.”
“Excellent.” The woman scribbles something down, then holds out her hand. “I’m Jess. I’ll be taking care of you today.”
I’m relieved when Damon merely shakes her hand instead of kissing it. She shakes my hand next, her grip firm and businesslike.
“Excuse me,” I say, “but where exactly are we?”
Jess beckons us to follow her down an inner stair. “See for yourself.”
I stop dead on the landing. Below us, spotlights shine on a lone white dress. It’s so elegant that even the headless mannequin looks beautiful in it. The gown shimmers under the lights, promising perfection.
Damon puts an arm around my shoulder. “I want to have the wedding as soon as possible. Do you mind?”
“Of course not!” I have to hold back laughter. Six months ago, you could have convinced me that I’d never pick out a wedding dress. Damon, however, can convince me of anything. It’s easy to get caught up in his enthusiasm.
“Shall we get started?” Jess ushers us down the rest of the stairs. “Lady Fortuna’s has everything you may want to wear on your wedding day. And I do mean everything.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink.
“Um…” I don’t want to be rude, but I’ll shop for underthings on my own time. “I think I’ll be fine with just the dress for today.”
As Jess makes another note on her clipboard, I slowly take in my surroundings. The walls are lined with dress upon dress, in varying shades of white, ivory, and cream. My eyes flick between ruffles, lace, bows, and beads. While I try to remember the difference between taffeta and tulle, I notice that there’s a whole wall devoted to veils. While I’m sure Eris would feel right at home here, I’m feeling overwhelmed. Most women probably don’t like shopping for wedding dresses with their soon-to-be grooms, but I’m glad Damon is here.
“Do you have an idea of what you’d like to try?” Jess asks.
“Not at all,” I say.
“That’s all right. We’ll try a bit of everything.”
I look to Damon. “You’re the one who sprung dress shopping on me. Do you have any ideas?”
“How about a sheath, maybe with some decorative silver elements?”
I narrow my eyes. “Do you already have something picked out?”
“I just have a very specific vision.” He looks wounded.
“If you say so.” It’s fun to tease someone who takes everything so seriously.
“Grace, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to a dressing room. Mr. Lion, you can have a seat if you’d like. We’ll be back soon to show her off to you.”
I follow Jess to the back of the shop, wishing I weren’t leaving Damon behind. There’s no sound but the rustle of fabric as we pass through a sea of dresses. That’s what feels so strange about this shop. There’s no one here but us.
“Is it usually this quiet?”
“That is your fiancé, isn’t it?” Jess looks at me like I should know better. “He wanted to make sure you had privacy, so he rented out the whole shop.”
I stare at her, stunned.
Jess laughs. “He is the Prince of Lions, isn’t he? Don’t tell me this is the first grand thing he’s done for you.”
My fingers automatically fly to the huge diamond he gave me earlier. It still feels heavy on my hand.
Jess looks down, laughing again when she sees the ring. “That’s what I thought. Into the dressing room with you. I’ve already picked out some gowns. Let’s see what you think of them.”
The first dress is a sheath like Damon wanted. I admire the simplicity, though there’s nothing silver like he requested. The satin is so luxurious that I feel like I’ve stepped into a cloud. I’m sure the price is as high as one.
Jess helps zip me up. “What on earth are you looking for?”
“A price tag.”
She chuckles. “Mr. Lion instructed us to remove them. He didn’t want you to be distracted.”
“That certainly sounds like him.”
Jess ties a silver ribbon below my bust. “What do you think of the dress?”
I turn to the mirror that covers an entire wall. It’s hard to believe that the woman looking back is me. She appears far too sophisticated and put-together. From the way the dress clings to her hips, I’d assume she has no trouble keeping her fiancé happy in the bedroom.
“Grace?”
I’m jarred from my daydream. Something’s not quite right for me, but I don’t want to offend Jess. “It’s nice.” I spin to see it from another angle. Something’s definitely off.
“Would you like to show Mr. Lion?”
“I’m sure he’d like to see it.”
We return to the heart of the shop. Damon rises immediately when he sees me.
“Let’s have a look at you.” Holding my hand above my head, he has me spin for him. “Hmm.”
I stand before him as he crosses his arms. I can’t help but giggle at his furrowed brow. I’m not sure choosing a dress is quite as serious as Damon’s making it out to be.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t like it, do you?”
“I don’t love it.”
I clasp his hand in mine. “I don’t either.”
Jess eyes her clipboard. “Shall we try another? I have a princess cut that would look good on you.”
“A princess for my princess,” Damon says. “How fitting.”
Jess whisks me back to the dressing room, and I shimmy out of the unloved
dress. I feel bad seeing it crumpled on the floor. I’m sure it’ll find someone to appreciate it someday.
“Try this.” Jess thrusts a new dress at me. It’s so white it’s almost blinding. Am I supposed to go a whole day dancing and eating and drinking without spilling something on it?
The new dress feels good, though I’m not sure it’s any better than the previous one. Maybe something’s wrong with me. Am I not excited enough to be a bride?
“You know,” Jess says, “you don’t have to leave the dressing room if you don’t love the dress.”
If I stay here until I love a dress, I might starve to death. Instead of voicing this concern, I smile and nod.
“Do you love this one?” she asks.
“Damon might.”
“Let’s show him, then!” To her credit, her cheer doesn’t sound too forced. I’m sure Damon’s paying her well to put up with us.
The prince stands again as we approach. I hope I’m not going to make him wear out his knees.
He doesn’t twirl me this time, but looks me up and down. “That’s something.”
I brush the skirt smooth. “You sound underwhelmed.”
“It’s not you at all, Grace. You look radiant. I just want a gown that does you justice.”
I sink into a mocking curtsy.
“I just think there should be … some kind of spark, you know?”
I don’t, but this seems to be important to him. “We’ll try another one.”
And we do. Ball gown. Mermaid. A-line. Halters and sweetheart necklines. I think I might drown in satin and lace. Dresses start to blur together. None of them spark anything in Damon’s eyes, and if he doesn’t like them then neither do I. It gets to the point where I wish he would let me pick one at random. In the end, I couldn’t care less about which dress I wear. I care about the groom, and I’ve already found one that fits me perfectly. Well, usually…
“I think this one could work.” I show him the flattering ball gown that Jess has found for me.
“Any of them could work. We need the right one.” Damon inspects the skirt. “Does this really need so much tulle?”