Page 45 of King of Lies
I take the dress into my bedroom and again see lingerie laid out for me. This time, black lace and nude stockings. I quickly strip out of my sweats and pull on the bra and panties and then the hose, before unzipping the dress. It’s a gorgeous shiny material. Big fuchsia flowers on a black background with tiny dark green leaves woven in here and there. The dress is very fitted on top, a neckline that completely covers my body and goes up to the base of my neck where it folds into neat pleats. The skirt is full and falls to just below my knees.
I quickly pull the zipper up as far as I can before heading back into the main room. “I need a little help, I’m sorry.”
“Of course,” the stylist says as she zips me up and then hands me a pair of black leather Louboutins. I’m sensing a trend with her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
“That dress perfectly shows off the Carrington Emeralds,” Maeve says. “Well done.”
“Thank you,” the stylist says.
“Ready?” Maeve asks me.
“I think so.”
“Now, remember,” she says all business now. “Let the prince answer everything. Only speak when directly spoken to or the prince asks for your opinion. He knows what he’s doing here.”
“Okay.”
“Keep your hands to your sides, don’t fidget, and whatever you do, don’t snog the prince in front of the press.”
“Whoops,” I mutter and both stylists laugh.
“Let’s go,” Maeve says. She leads me back through the hallways.
We cross over from the residential quarters to the public area and into a large formal room with silk covered walls hung with large paintings by famous artists.
There are rows and rows of folding chairs filled with reporters and the sides of the room and lined with people weilding cameras and video cameras.
Rhys is waiting at the front of them all in a military uniform that I’ve never seen before with tons of medals and ribbons all over it including gold ropes, a fancy sash across his chest, and a sword at his side. He takes my breath away and terrifies me at the same time.
This is not the man I fell in love with but instead, his true self.
This is the future king.
“Smile. Now,” Maeve whispers in my ear before gently shoving me into the room.
“There she is,” Rhys says as he holds his hand out to me and I walk directly to him.
“So, how did you two meet?” someone calls out.
“It was very romantic,” he answers. “I walked into a bookshop one afternoon and she literally fell out of the sky and into my arms.”
“I can’t believe you told them that,” I whisper, mortified.
“It took some time to wear her down, but eventually she agreed to have dinner with me.”
“Who would turn down a prince?” someone asks.
“She had no idea,” Rhys tells them, and I want to crawl into a hole and die.
“You make a lovely couple, Your Highness.”
“Aye, we do. But thank you for saying it.”
“Took you some time to find a princess, Your Highness,” someone says.
“Well, I would have married her sooner but twenty years ago Stella was scandalously too young for me,” he jokes.
