Page 3 of Once Upon A Royal Christmas
Gracie’s heart sank all the way down to her faux glass slippers. For a minute there, she’d actually let herself believe Clara had come up with a solid plan. “Have you lost your mind? Wishing for a fairy godmother seems like a more realistic scenario.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. Look right here. Didn’t you read the full caption?” She jabbed her pointer finger toward the script at the bottom of the screen.
“‘Royal Winter Wonderland Contest,’” Gracie said flatly. She’d been so enamored by the picture that she’d forgotten about that part for a second. “‘Spend this Christmas with San Glacera’s royal family.’ What does that even mean?”
“The royal family of San Glacera is holding a contest to promote tourism. Apparently, the kingdom has a big holiday market and ice village every year during the holidays. You’re a shoo-in to win. I just know it.” Clara was talking so fast that Gracie could barely keep up.
“San Glacera? I’ve never even heard of it.”
“It’s a kingdom near the Swiss Alps. I already told you that,” Clara said.
“This is just a lot to take in.” Gracie waved a hand toward the laptop, where Clara was busy scrolling through a collage of more scenic photographs of San Glacera, which looked as charming as a porcelain Christmas village, complete with a Gothic cathedral, a medieval village square, and Swiss-style chalets with fanciful gingerbread trim.
A towering blue spruce stood in the center of the frozen pond, its boughs laden with snow. The tip of each branch held a Dickensian candle holder with a slender flameless torch. Mittened children and couples holding hands skated around the tree in graceful circles, the blades of their skates as shiny and silver as jingle bells.
Elaborate ice sculptures surrounded the skating pond, lit in pastel shades of lavender, pink, and blue. They were like nothing Gracie had ever seen before—a graceful swan with a filigree crown and downy wings, Father Christmas in a flowing robe with an owl perched on his shoulder, a grand sleigh pulled by an icy white stallion.
And that breathtaking castle loomed over it all, frosted with so much snow and ice that it almost looked as if it had been crafted from a frothy mountain of whipping cream.
Wherever San Glacera might be, it seemed like a Christmas fairy tale come to life.
“Tell me more about this contest,” Gracie heard herself say.
“It’s part of the kingdom’s Christmas Ice Festival.” Clara angled the laptop so it was situated between them and banged away at the keyboard. “On Christmas Eve, they unveil a ballroom made completely of ice and they have a big theatrical performance.”
“So kind of like the Ice Capades?” Nostalgia tugged Gracie’s lips into a smile. Her parents had taken her to an Ice Capades performance back when she was ten years old. She’d been besotted by the princesses. But at the end of the night, when the characters skated to the edge of the rink to shake hands and talk to the children up-close, Gracie had been too terrified of the evil queen to go meet Sleeping Beauty, her favorite character.
And here she was, all these years later, wearing a glittery crown and approximately twenty yards of tulle and velvet. No wonder there wasn’t a banker in town who would take her seriously.
Being a party princess hadn’t exactly been her Plan A. No, Plan A had involved recital halls, auditions for musicals, maybe even a part in a Broadway show someday. But after those lofty aspirations had fallen so spectacularly apart, Gracie had dusted herself off and made a Plan B.
And maybe with Plan B, she was still dreaming too big. This was her life, not a fairy tale. With Clara’s help, she’d taken Perfect Party Princesses further than she’d ever expected. Maybe it was time to give up on being a girl boss of epic proportions.
Clara made a pfft sound, dragging Gracie’s attention back to the computer screen. “This is a way bigger deal than the Ice Capades. The king and queen are real, remember?”
Gracie narrowed her gaze at the castle. People actually lived there?
“The winner of the contest plays a part in the Ice Village and participates in a weeklong junket of holiday traditions and Christmas activities alongside members of the royal family,” Clara said.
“Why would they want to do something like that?”
“To increase tourism. The place is magical, but I never knew it existed until today. Neither did you. Clearly, they needed some better PR. Mission accomplished—the contest is all over social media right now.” Clara’s forehead scrunched. Her head was probably spinning with ideas for Instagram posts. “Anyway, like I said, you would be perfect for this. They’re choosing a winner in less than a week. You have a passport, right?”
Gracie did, in fact, have a passport. Not that she’d ever gotten the chance to use it, but still. It existed.
“There’s no way I can leave the country. We have Christmas parties booked, and the holidays are the busiest time of year for Princess Snowflake.” Why were they having this conversation? She couldn’t even get a local bank officer to take her seriously, and Clara somehow thought that people clear on the other side of the world—people who wore crowns in a serious way, not just for playing dress-up—would jump at the chance to invite her to appear at their event at their actual castle.
“Most of your bookings are for school parties and children’s functions. Denver schools close for the holidays ten full days before Christmas. Worst case scenario, you’d only miss a handful of small family parties. You could train one of the other girls to take your place,” Clara said.
Gracie wasn’t in a position to argue. As the person in charge of booking, Clara knew Gracie’s schedule better than she did.
“I don’t know. This seems like it could be a total internet scam. How do we know this contest is even real?” Gracie reached to start the complicated and lengthy process of unpinning her snowflake tiara from her elaborately braided up-do. She was ready to crawl into her Nutcracker pajamas and call it a day.
Clara arched a brow. “Thirty thousand dollars says it’s legit.”
Gracie’s fingertips paused. A lone bobby pin fell onto the countertop with a tiny clatter.
“That’s the cash prize,” Clara said. “Thirty thousand dollars, plus travel and accommodations for two. Plus, just imagine all the publicity you’ll get for the business on top of the prize money.” She shot Gracie a smug grin. “Now are you ready to enter?”
