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Felicity sat in the chair, the makeup artist hovering close to apply blush, and tried to remember that tonight was an important night, and she was allowed to enjoy it.
If only she didn’t feel so horribly unsettled.
Hope played quietly with Mr. Bear at her feet, talking softly to the bear and making him walk around. Her two-year-old stories were the sweetest thing Felicity had ever heard.
“Can you tilt your chin up for me?” She realized she’d been looking down at Hope, a thin sheen of tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. And now, though Felicity lifted her chin, she couldn’t remember the name of the makeup artist, either. She was dark-haired and beautiful, and like all good makeup artists, Felicity felt comfortable being eye to eye at such close proximity.
Back in Des Moines, she would have been giddy at the chance to have someone do her makeup and hair for an event like this. And part of her was still giddy—but mostly, she was torn.
“I don’t mean to pry,” said the makeup artist. “But are you feeling okay?”
She had been frowning. Felicity knew it the moment the makeup artist spoke, and she quickly arranged her face into a smile. “Yes, of course. You’re doing a great job.” She gave the woman a sheepish smile. “I’m a little embarrassed because I can’t remember your name. My head is all over the place today.”
“It’s Zia.” Zia didn’t look completely convinced that that was the only thing bothering Felicity. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you? We can take a break if you’d like. There’s plenty of time before the event begins.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine.”
“Fine,” called Hope from the floor.
“Hope? Do you want to have a snack?” Sara had been nearby all along, making sure Hope didn’t get in anyone’s way. Zia had been completely gracious about letting the little girl sit close to Felicity, but now Hope hopped up.
“Crackers!” she shouted, running for Sara. She jumped up at the last moment and Sara caught the little girl in her arms, sweeping her through the doors to the playroom with a laugh.
“She’s very cute,” said Zia, her smile wrinkling her nose. “How about some mascara?”
“Thank you,” Felicity said. “To both things. I’ve got to look my best for this.”
It was the truth—she did need to look her best. Amy had invited her to be part of the meetings in a moment of kindness, she was certain. That didn’t mean her appearance at tonight’s gala held any less weight. Felicity was the future queen of Stolvenia, and no matter how things went with Rafael, that’s how the people would relate to her. She didn’t want to let them down.
But that meant smiling for the cameras, wearing a neutrally happy expression, and reading from a prewritten script so that her remarks would be press-worthy but not controversial. Since Joy’s interview, the PR team had been only too happy to write remarks for Felicity—and after she told Rafael she intended to be involved with this week’s events, they’d sent page after page with update after update.
Zia swiped on mascara, and when she was done Felicity looked past her to the brightly lit mirror.
There she was—a woman who looked beautifully made up, ready to have her hair done. A woman who was very nearly camera-ready.
And that would be her life from now on, wouldn’t it? Felicity was staring down the barrel of an endless stream of days punctuated by press events. Even the International Women’s Day gala was a press event, though it was still very meaningful to Felicity. She was honored to be able to attend and speak, even though the words weren’t entirely her own.
After this, what meaning would her appearances have?
Her stomach turned over. For one hot second, she’d been feeling a new kind of freedom in her role as future queen. Now the impending wedding and the official title seemed like a trap. Not only that, they seemed like a trap she couldn’t walk back out of.
Hope burst back into the room, Sara close on her heels. She had a half-eaten cracker in one hand and hoisted it high in the air. “Mama, crackers!” she cried, delighted.
Felicity swallowed back a lump in her throat. This wasn’t only about her. “Is it good?” she forced out.
Hope came running to the side of her chair and hooked her little hands over the edge, stopping just in time to put the rest of the cracker in her mouth. “So good!”
Felicity had brought Hope here to Stolvenia because she’d thought it would be safe. She’d thought this kind of life would have infinite benefits over the one she could offer her daughter back in Iowa. Felicity had always known it would be different, being royal—but she was a regular American girl, and that had always been in the abstract.
Now that it was real, she just wasn’t sure it was…right. Or that it was going to be enough. Without realizing it, she’d been counting on Rafael to give her something real, something grounding, something that was just theirs. But she wasn’t sure anymore if he was even capable of that.
Not after the surprise stunt at brunch.
She just wasn’t sure.
* * *
Rafael wait
