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Lina thrusts the jeweled headpiece at me. “But you forgot to pick a tiara!”
Mareike pushes Lina’s offering away, spitting something out in rapid German. I raise a brow at Lina who translates sadly. “It cannot be added without destroying the integrity of the design.”
I take the crown from Lina. Sapphires and diamonds glint in the warm afternoon sunlight pouring in the windows. It’s beautiful but much heavier than I expected. I return it to my friend. “I think I’ll be fine. What time is it?”
Lina pulls her phone from her pocket and gasps. “It’s two thirty already! You need to pick out a dress! And then we have to practice curtseying and stuff. There’s a whole protocol for meeting the Grand Duchess.” Her eyes sparkle with excitement.
“I’m not sure I want to meet Her Royalness. She won’t be happy to see me.”
“As long as you stay away from Eduard, you will be fine,” Mareike surprises me by saying.
“Really? Why?”
“She has arranged a wife for him. They will be unofficially introduced tonight.” Her lips clamp shut as if she instantly regrets having shared the gossip.
My stomach growls as I rise from the chair. “Did you pick out a dress?”
Lina nods and places the tiara on the table with reverent care. “Paulina—Henrik’s assistant—helped me find one while he worked with Andi. Henrik had to approve it, of course, and Paulina is altering it right now.”
“Altering?”
“It was a little tight across here.” She waves at her chest. “And too long. They’re mostly in Andi’s size, so…” She jumps into the seat. “I can’t wait to see what Mareike can do for me!”
I leave Lina in Mareike’s care, the two of them chatting away in Flemish. Maybe German isn’t Mareike’s first language, either.
“Here you are!” Henrik greets me as I enter.
I point at the door. “I was right in there.”
He waves this off with a flourish. “You’re here now, but we must hurry! If there are alterations to be made, we could be ruined!” He gives me a quick once-over, then starts pawing through the racks of dresses. “No. No. Definitely not. Yes.” He looks at me expectantly.
I look at the green dress. “It’s pretty.”
Henrik frowns. “Of course it’s pretty, but I don’t need your input. Take it. Put it over there!” He flaps a hand at the now empty rack by the fireplace.
I grab the dress—beautiful but not really my style—and put it on the rack as instructed, adding a few more as he works his way down the line.
After trying all of them on, he chooses a black gown with glittering jet trim. “This will look fabulous with your hair.” He tucks and pins, turning me this way and that like a doll, then finally steps back with a sigh. “It will do.”
I turn to the mirror. I look like a fairy-tale character but probably a beautiful villain, not the heroine. The black dress skims over my almost nonexistent curves, but whatever magic Henrik did with the pins gives me a surprisingly voluptuous figure. A slit reveals my leg to just above my knee. The jet trim glitters along the curved neckline, hem, and the bottom of the long, tight sleeves. “You and Mareike are miracle workers! I look almost sexy.”
“Almost? You are sexy! Sexy is here.” He pokes a finger at my forehead. “Believe it, and you are. Of course, I made you look more sexy.” He gives the dress another critical review. “I can be much more daring with you than with the princess—the Grand Duchess won’t care what you wear.”
“She cares what Andi wears?” I look at the neckline again—much lower cut than I’d normally wear, but Henrik assured me I won’t have any wardrobe malfunctions.
He rolls his eyes. “Yes. The monarchy has standards to uphold. The princesses are to look, well, like princesses. Pure, chaste, pristine. To be honest, it’s a challenge, since most of my other clients want to look a little more va-va-voom. Like you.”
Andi reappears, dressed in a plush robe, her face exquisitely made up. “Va-va-voom indeed! You look fabulous!” She pouts at Henrik. “Can’t you make me just a little more like that?”
Henrik shakes his head. “I love you, Andi, but the Grand Duchess can ruin me.”
Andi sighs and drops to a couch. “I know. Maybe I’ll find someone else to do my dress next time.”
Henrik gasps, a hand clutching his chest. “You wouldn’t!”
“No, I wouldn’t.” She gives my dress another longing look. “But maybe I’ll fast-track that title stripping.” With a sad laugh, she jerks her head at a table. “Eva, grab something to eat while Paulina works on your dress. Then you need to see Estelle for your makeup.”
I turn so Henrik can unzip my dress. “This whole glamorous thing is a lot of work.”
