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“Your picture is everywhere. They’re calling you the American princess. You’re airing on the Hollywood channel. What on earth is going on?”
I sighed and hoped I could get back in Fitz’s good graces enough to have him cover the cost of my international call. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything.”
Fitz
Originally, we were supposed to take a weekend ski trip to the chalet in the mountains. But Coco had sparked another thought in my mind.
“Your watch, Sir.” Carlisle held out my favorite watch and I nodded permission for him to put it on my wrist while I penned the last words in the message.
She was right, unfortunately. I wouldn’t learn anything about these women unless I started to see them outside the glitz of royal life. If I wasn’t careful, I would end up with a spoiled brat, not a wife.
Reginald stopped outside my bedroom doors, expectant. I held up the card without a word. He retrieved it, but upon reading the words, his mouth tipped into a frown.
“Is this wise, Your Highness?”
I understood his hesitance, but I’d made up my mind. “Yes, in fact, it’s overdue if you ask me. This is the sort of thing I should have done long ago.”
“There will be wailing, Your Highness.” Reginald’s dry sarcasm felt a little too rich for the time of day.
“I understand that, but if they’re here for me, then they won’t harbor too much ill will over skipping the slopes.”
His skepticism didn’t show, but I felt it anyway. “As you wish.” He turned and exited, leaving me to second-guess myself again.
It wasn’t that the idea was terrible, rather my thought that I needed to make it a competition. A part of me feared I was about to witness a blood bath, and at the Children’s Hospital, no less.
Michaela
Someone shoved into me and I accidentally elbowed Esme.
“Mind your bony bits,” she snapped at me.
“Sorry,” I whispered under my breath. I never meant to end up in this dog pile, but Reginald handed the note to me at breakfast and there wasn’t much I could do once the rest of them wanted to know what Fitz had planned.
“Go on then,” Gwen urged. “Speak up.”
“May I lick it?” Dagny asked. “Oh! Or perhaps we could fold it into a little plane and send it back. Imagine the fun.”
“I’ll just read it, thanks.” She had a way of making my mind go blank, at least for a couple of seconds. “You can have it when I’m done, okay?”
“Fabulous.” She leaned closer to Chantal. “Royal stationary is the best kind. A little sweet with a hint of pretentious pride. Really cuts through the decadence of it.”
I shook my head and stared at the card, begging my brain to work instead of trying to decipher Dagny’s latest nonsense.
Instead of carving slopes, be ready to spread hope.
Hard to tell what the day will entail,
but keep in mind the one with the biggest heart will prevail.
“Well, it’s not as eloquent as the others, is it?” Blair’s mouth turned downward. “And that penmanship. Written in haste I presume. Looks like a monkey had a go at it.”
I tried to smother my laughter. Every other card we’d received was written in professional calligraphy, but this was the handwriting I would recognize anywhere. Fitz had taken a minute to try to be a poet.
“More importantly,” Chantal pointed at the card, “what does that mean?”
Esme spoke up. “Whoever wins the contest gets a date with the prince, right?” She glanced between us, trying to gain confirmation for her guess.
“But how do we win?” Blair’s competitive nature flared to life. “The biggest heart could mean anything.”
