by Jillian Dodd
"Yes, they do. What color is your dress? I have a hat you could borrow. Or we could send the boys out to shop."
Ari groans. "I think since I'm finished with breakfast, I'll leave the fashion to you ladies and go have a pint with Peter."
"Oh, he'd love that," Allie says. "I'll get my dress and be right back."
I finish my meal and take a deep breath. I had hoped to do some yoga and work out, but now I'm going to have to hustle to be ready in time. I'm pretty sure you shouldn't show up fashionably late to the Queen's party.
I consider sending her son a text thanking him for the gifts, but decide it's better for the mission to keep him wondering if I'll show up.
"Here's my dress," Allie says, returning. "What do you think?" She's holding it up to herself. "Too short?"
"It almost comes to your knee. I think it will work. And the black background with the floral pattern is both modern and traditional." I have no idea what that even meant. My fashion decisions usually revolve around which black yoga pants make my butt look the best. She nods like I made sense.
"Oh, good. Ellis told me you have hair and makeup on call. Have you called them?"
I go into my closet and grab a hat box. The Kates sent me with two hats. One to wear to a daytime party and one to wear to the beach. "No, but I'm sure Ellis did. He's on top of things."
Ellis knocks on the door just as I'm pulling the hat out of the box.
"Hair and makeup will arrive in one hour to prep you for the Queen's Garden Party. We are on a tight time frame, and you don't want to be late."
"We won't be. Allie, what do you think? Shall we pre-party with some champagne?"
"Most definitely."
"I will send a server back shortly. Miss Allie, would you like something to eat?"
"Oh, yes. A spinach salad, no dressing. Maybe some grilled salmon or chicken on it?" She turns to me. "I told my agent I was coming here, and she booked me in the fashion show tonight at the Amber Room. Can you come? Will you bring Daniel?"
"Daniel went to Switzerland. Something to do with a photo shoot."
"Have you seen his watch ad? The one where he is swimming with the waterproof watch on?" She picks up my extra hat and fans her face with it. Then she realizes what she's doing and looks at the hat. "Oh, this is adorable. And the black will match my dress. Are you sure I can borrow it?"
"I'm sure."
"So do you like the Prince or Daniel? You had a lot of chemistry at the gala. And the way you danced together--it was almost magical."
"Magical?" I scoff. "Uh, no. It was just a few dances."
"And then you left together."
"We got pizza."
"I got some pizza of my own. Do you know about me and Ari? Do you think badly of me?"
"I think what matters is what you think of yourself. I personally have no problem with you sleeping with whomever you fancy. Unless you have some kind of a commitment with Peter."
"Oh, no. He's told me many times he doesn't do commitment. I know he goes through women, but he's really sweet, and I enjoy his company. It's just that he's not--how can I put this delicately? Your brother is a beast in the sack. And I feel like an addict waiting for my next hit. Staying at your villa is both brilliant and torturous. I snuck into his room last night."
"I try to stay out of his love life."
"You just found out he's your brother. Admit it. The first time you saw him he heated up your panties."
"I did think he was nice looking."
"You two look a lot alike. I looked up your dad online. He must have had dominant genes, because you both look just like him."
I make a mental note to find a photo of Ares and have a look myself, but am now even more impressed with our casting. I'm lost in thought and not really paying attention to the fact that Allie is rummaging through my handbag. She pulls something out of it.
"Oh, I should borrow one of these. Flights seem to clog my pores." She starts to take the back off one of the pore strips.
"Wait!" I yell, ripping it out of her hands, imagining her beautiful nose blown off by the incendiary device.
She's taken aback by my outburst.
"Sorry," I reply. "It's just I need to throw those away. They're cheap and practically ripped half the skin off my nose. It was red for two days. You wouldn't want that for the fashion show tonight."
She clutches her chest as if I just saved her life. "Oh, thank goodness you stopped me. I would have been so upset if that happened!"
"Me too," I say, taking all the strips out of my bag and throwing them in the trash. I'll retrieve them when she goes to get changed.
X X X
Getting into the Queen's Garden Party is much different than driving to the castle with the Prince. Vehicles are not parked onsite, but rather valeted. All guests must show their invitation and identification then pass through a metal detector and have their bags checked. My shoes go off even though they aren't outfitted with any gadgets, since they were a gift from the Prince. The shoes aren't X-rayed as they should be, simply run past the nose of a bomb-sniffing dog who gives them a cursory whiff. There are a fair number of armed military present, both watching the crowd and surrounding the castle.
I'm relieved to see it. It wouldn't deter a well-trained assassin, but it is a good defense against suicide bombers or armed attacks.
Allie and Peter are held up in security, so Ari escorts me toward the garden, and we talk while winding down the brick, tree-lined path. Flowers are in full bloom, and the hedges expertly tended.
"Let's go over the weak spots in security," he says, speaking low so that no one will overhear us. "There are snipers on the roof. The castle is surrounded by soldiers with assault weapons. They brought in portable restrooms so that visitors will have no reason to enter the castle. The guests have been personally invited and, I'm sure, pre-screened. What would you do if you wanted to kill the Prince today?"
I look at the brick walls surrounding the garden then up at the sky. "Maybe fly in?"
"A helicopter would be susceptible to the snipers."
"It could do a lot of damage before it was taken out, though. What about a drone? Or one of those little helicopters with the cameras? Only maybe it's a gun instead. It would be quiet and could sneak up. But, honestly, I'd be more worried about the backend of the event. The food delivery trucks, the caterers, the servers. Or, worse, someone like us."
"What do you mean?" Ari asks.
"We got through. Do you have any weapons in your possession?"
"No, the invitation mentioned security, so I'm not packing."
I grab his wrist. "What about your watch?"
"Cartier, brand new."
I show him mine. "My Cartier is special."
"How so?"
"It's loaded with poison darts." I flash my hand at him. "And this ring can reveal a single-use poison tip. If I scratched you with it, you'd be dead in a matter of minutes. If I were playing for the other side, I'd be the big threat. And I'd succeed easily."
"My sister is a badass," he says, and it makes me smile. It's the first mission-related compliment he's given me.
"Don't you have any gadgets?"
"Yeah, I do." He rolls his eyes like a little boy caught with candy.
"What do you have?"
"A fine writing pen that when clicked properly contains a similar dart. Cuff links that become tracking and listening devices. A hankie square made of Kevlar."
"My brother is a badass," I tease.
"So that's what we need to be looking for--someone like us. But I agree with you. The threat could be a man or woman and could be either a guest or server. Keep your eyes open and stick close to the Prince. I'll stay close by, as well, forming a sort of outer perimeter."
"Sounds like a plan," I agree as we arrive at the entrance to the garden.
"Wait up!" Allie calls from behind us, her and Peter scurrying to catch up.
"That was ridiculous," Peter huffs. "To be invited to an event and have to practical
ly be strip searched."
"What happened?"
"He had a nail file in his pocket," Allie states.
Peter goes on. "Clearly, it is not a weapon. What could I even do with it? File their royal nails until they bled?"
Ari and I share a glance, both thinking the same thing. There are a lot of things you could do with a nail file, jabbing it directly into a man's eye being the first that comes to mind.
"Why do you have a nail file? They don't even allow those on airplanes," Ari states.
Allie smiles at him. "I don't think Peter's ever flown commercial."
"And it wasn't like a big metal file," Peter continues. "It's a pair of clippers that have a little nail file. I'm prone to hangnails."
Clippers can be effective, too, I think. With the right amount of force and a quick slash, a major artery in the neck could be opened and a man would bleed to death. Messy, but effective.
"They didn't let me keep them. That's what took so long. I had to fill out a coat check type form. If they weren't made of gold and a gift from my grandfather, I would have just ditched them." He grabs Allie's hand. "Remind me to pick them up when we leave."
"I'm sure after the castle attack yesterday, they aren't taking any chances, for all our sakes," Ari says.
"Still, pain in my arse," Peter replies.
We go through an arched trellis to enter the large, perfectly manicured green-lawned garden. It's beautiful. Large, leafy trees surround its perimeter. A mammoth ornate marble fountain punctuates its center. Smaller floral trees line the center paths and numerous iron benches allow for gazing at the floral displays. We are quickly greeted by a white-gloved server offering us champagne from a silver tray.
We each take a glass and Peter says, "Here's to new friends and fast cars. Thanks for talking us into coming here."
We clink our glasses and I take a sip, the bubbles tickling my nose.
"Looks like there's food over there," Ari says. If Ari has one mission weakness, it's his need to constantly eat. You'd think he was still growing.
We're halfway to the buffet when I see the Prince making a beeline toward us. He greets everyone, then pulls me away from the group.
"You look stunning. I wasn't sure if you received the delivery." He looks at the ground, fidgets a bit, then looks at me with sincerity written all over his face. "I didn't know if you would come. Does this mean you forgive me?"
"That depends. Do you think I had anything to do with the men at the castle yesterday?"
He takes my hand. "No, I do not. It's just that I surprised them with our visit." He looks around and lowers his voice. "You can't be in a leadership role in any country in today's world and not be threatened. That is the downside to dating me."
"Is this a date?"
He touches my face tenderly. "I certainly would like it to be."
"Then I accept your apology."
He smiles then seals it with a sweet kiss. "And you mustn't leave my side all day. It will likely be a stuffy affair but is filled with interesting and prominent people from around the world. Many of whom you will be seeing more of during the weekend's activities."
I turn and scan the crowd. "I'd like to meet them all, then," I say, hoping it will help me uncover the plot and find the bad guys.
His eyes brighten. "Really?"
"Of course."
"Let's start by greeting my mother, the host of this event. You should know it was only with her help that I was able to attain the hat."
"The hat is my favorite thing. The only kind of hat I've ever worn is a baseball cap. And a beret once when I tried to dress French."
The Prince laughs. "You are adorable." His hand moves to the small of my back as he escorts me across the lawn. He's moving at a good clip, his fast pace probably signaling that he doesn't want to stop to chat along the way.
The Queen greets me with an actual hug--something Europeans don't usually do to acquaintances. "Thank you for helping my son stay out of danger yesterday," she whispers.
I back away and slightly bow. "You're welcome."
"There's someone I'd like you to meet." She turns to a woman standing to her left. "Anna, I'd like to present to you Huntley Von Allister. Your work looks stunning on her." She points to my hat, or fascinator, whichever this technically is.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Von Allister. Would you mind taking a picture with me?"
I say sure and then the Queen decides to join us. The milliner's arms aren't very long, so I use her phone to take a selfie of the three of us.
Then I'm introduced to a whirlwind of people. So many that even with my excellent memory for details, it's hard to keep track. I was hoping someone would stand out. Look nervous, smarmy, or like a killer, but they don't. Once we've made the rounds, we work our way back to our little group of Peter, Allie, and Ari who are chatting with the Prince's cousins and their boyfriends.
The Prince excuses himself, telling me he'll be right back.
My initial assessment of Clarice's boyfriend, Armend, is correct. His eyes affect me in a negative way. I should be keeping watch on him, just in case. The fact that they met only a few weeks ago and he's suddenly here in the midst of royalty is bothersome.
Of course, I suppose the same could be said of me. I've known the Prince for all of three days. But it's Ophelia's boyfriend who I can't stop watching. Viktor looks very uncomfortable. Nervous. He's sweating and fidgety. I run his background through my head. Family chum of Peter Prescott. Father originally from Russia, who owns an international shipping business and as a hobby became the top yacht builder in the world. Mother is a well-known retired French prima ballerina whose father held a senior minister position in the French government.
Viktor has one hand in his pocket and is looking more and more nervous.
Like someone about to commit a crime, possibly?
Clarice turns to Peter. "Peter, just yesterday I was telling my friend who joined the Peace Corps about your father's new interests in the world's water. I don't believe anyone should be allowed to own our water. It should be free to all. But he's been buying up water around the world. I'd like to talk to him about the Terra Project."
I quell any reaction I have when I hear those words. Ari and I share a glance.
"What's the Terra Project?" he asks.
"It's a resource based economy, where all people will share and work together to build a future. Everyone would have equal access to shelter, water, healthcare, and food. It's about changing incentives and technological processes on a global scale. We'd change our incentives to build a better future without a monetary system."
"It seems hard to imagine a world without money," Peter says haughtily. "Can't see my dad being interested in that."
"Well, a long time ago, before there was money and power, people bartered for everything. The idea is also to take care of our planet by becoming a green society."
I'm trying to focus on what she's saying, but I can't because Viktor still has one hand in his pocket and is looking more and more nervous. He takes out his hankie and wipes sweat from his brow.
"Hot one today," he states to no one in particular.
"Why don't you take off your jacket?" I suggest.
"Uh, no," he says, and I'm really starting to worry about what's in his pocket.
Or under his jacket.
When the Prince strides toward us, Viktor starts to move.
I'm on edge, ready to pounce on him at the first sign of a weapon. If we were closer to the trees, I'd pull him out of sight and search him, but that's not possible.
The Prince winks at me and takes my hand. Then he asks all of us, including Viktor--who now looks as if he's about to have a stroke--to join him at the fountain.
We all move in that direction, and I make sure to put myself in position between the Prince and Viktor.
"If everyone could gather around," the Prince announces loudly. I glance at the snipers on the roof, to see if they are still paying attention. But if Viktor pulls
a gun, the snipers couldn't react quickly enough. It would be up to me and Ari. Ari imperceptibly touches my hand. I know he's thinking what I'm thinking as he moves to flank the other side of the Prince.
The Prince's personal bodyguard apparently is supposed to follow five steps behind because that's exactly where he has been all day. Close, but not close enough, in my opinion.
The crowd does as they are asked and gathers around the fountain.
Viktor looks crazy. Surely, he wouldn't shoot the Prince right here in front of everyone, would he?
Viktor takes Ophelia's hand and gets down on one knee.
"Ophelia Louise Marchesa Vallenta, will you marry me?"
Ophelia doesn't look the least bit surprised by his proposal. She doesn't cry. Doesn't jump up and down. Doesn't jump into his arms and scream.
"I will," she says flatly, like she's closed a business deal not accepted his eternal love.
They hug and everyone claps.
Viktor's hand finally leaves his pocket, producing a box with a large engagement ring.
I let out a sigh. No wonder he was so damn nervous. Proposing in front of all of these people combined with the fear of losing the ring would make most people sweat.
Champagne is quickly passed around and the whole group, nearly six hundred in attendance, toast to the happy couple.
"You can thank me for the vintage champagne," the Prince says, turning to me and clinking my glass.
"Is that where you were off to?"
He smiles at me, takes a sip, and says, "I missed you while I was gone."
"You were gone for a very short while."
"I expected to come back and find you surrounded by men."
"There are snipers on the roof of your castle. Somehow I doubt anyone would choose today to try to steal your date."
He laughs. It's an easy, sexy laugh followed by another sweet kiss, which causes me to relax just a little.
We're still in the crowd around the newly engaged when Clarice asks me about the attack on the castle yesterday. "I heard you were here."
"Lorenzo wanted to give me a tour."
"Of the royal bed chamber, no doubt," someone mumbles.
"Although, first I met his father," I continue, ignoring the snide comment. The people around us were all chattering up a storm, but when I mention visiting the King a hush spreads over the area as all eyes turn to me.