Page 35 of Princesses & Pastries
The day we've all been waiting for has finally arrived, and I can safely say that I'm not happy about it, and that has nothing to do with the fact that the collar of my dress is itchier than I'd like it to be.
Today marks the start of the countdown to Nate leaving again. I've been living in a world where I thought I could ignore the impending date, but everything is going to change now. Even at the thought of it, tears prick the corners of my eyes. I might be confused about how I feel about him, but the one thing I do know is that I don't want him to leave.
I pull the collar away from my neck, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"Stop fiddling, you're distracting me," Veronica murmurs under her breath, her mouth barely moving as she speaks. It's a practised art, and one that we've perfected so that we can talk while under the scrutiny of the people surrounding us.
"It's payback," I mutter.
"What?"
"Nothing." I look away.
She sighs. "This is because I asked you if you're in love with Nate?"
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it," I admit.
"Maybe that's because you are in love with him."
"Maybe."
She turns to me, the surprise so clear on her face that I don't even have to guess at what she's feeling. "I thought it might take you longer to admit it."
Mama turns around before I can respond. "Veronica," she says sternly.
That's all my sister needs to stop talking and face the front of the room. Thankfully, the delegation from Wafeland hasn't actually entered yet, and there are just the assembled members of the Falhavien court in the room. They're likely used to us having sneaky conversations.
"Sorry, Mama," Veronica murmurs.
"Formal titles," she reminds us.
"Sorry, Your Majesty."
I refrain from laughing. "Does that mean I have to refer to you as the Duchess of Upshire?" I ask my sister.
"You know it doesn't."
She's not wrong. While we all have titles and lands throughout Falhaven, our royal titles normally override them. Though should I get married, my spouse would become known as the Duke or Duchess of Stramshire.
Is that something Nate would want? Being a duke comes with a lot of responsibility, even if he would only be one because he married me. I think he'd be good at it. He's got the ability to instruct people that I lack.
My eyes widen as I realise the direction of my thoughts. This is not good. I haven't even decided if my sister is right and I'm in love with him yet, I can't be thinking about anything as serious as marriage.
Thankfully, my thoughts are chased away when the doors of the throneroom are pulled open by a pair of footmen.
I stand up straighter and try to ignore the itching of my dress. It's only going to get worse before I can take it off and replace it with a much more comfortable dress.
"Presenting His Royal Highness Graaf Van Bergdal, the Gravin Van Bergdal, and Her Royal Highness Gravin Johanna," a herald calls as my cousins enter the room. It's hard to remember that they might be a similar age to me and my siblings, but they're the grandchildren of Wafeland's reigning Queen, and not the ones belonging to her heir.
I try to recall if I've met either the Graaf, or Gravin Johanna before, but I can't recall. It's easy to see that we're related to them, though. They have the same shade of brown hair that we do from Mama, and their faces are similar. It's been a long time since I've seen my aunt, but I remember thinking that she looked a lot like Mama at the time. The evidence is clear in her children.
They reach the front of the room with their retinue and bow deeply to my father.
"Your Majesty," the Graaf says in lightly-accented Falhavien. Perhaps his mother taught him our language as a child, Mama's family is from the mountainous area of Falhaven bordering Wafeland. "It is a pleasure to have returned to your wonderful kingdom."
My father nods. "It is an equal pleasure to be hosting you once more, My Lord. I am sure you remember my wife, Queen Cecilia."
"Your Majesty," the Graaf says. "It is a pleasure to see you again. My mother, your sister, sends you her greetings."
