Black boxes indicated military checkpoints.
Dree asked Chiara, “Where’s the first-aid station?”
Chiara blinked her perfectly mascaraed eyes. “The wedding will last approximately an hour. Surely, we don’t need more than an ambulance on-site?”
Dree frowned at the schematic. “We really should have a first-aid station somewhere. There’s all this space back here on the first floor under the parapets where people are staging for the wedding, like where the photographers sit between the important points. We can have a small area back here with some tables, a cot or two, and basic medical supplies like bandages, splints, a defibrillator, a few EpiPens, and other basic emergency supplies that somebody might need immediately.”
Chiara smiled tightly. “That’s right. You’re a nurse. I suppose we could have a small area as a tribute to your nursing background.”
Dree raised an eyebrow. “Weneedbasic first-aid supplies at any large gathering. We’re going to put them right here.” She stabbed the blueprint on the tablet with a finger. “I’ll give you a list tomorrow of supplies that need to be purchased. Is there a first-aid station for Maxence’s coronation?”
“Enthronement, not coronation.” Chiara paused before continuing. “It has not been traditional to have a first-aid station at royal ceremonies. We always have an ambulance waiting outside, should anyone require it.”
Dree said, “Well, we need to make sure there’s a first-aid station. It’s going to be right here.” She tapped the tablet showing the drawing of the palace’s courtyard again. “I willseriouslygive you a list tomorrow. We need tomake sureeverything that is on my list isthere.”
Around lunchtime, they were just walking out of the Metropole shopping center to find somewhere less ostentatious for lunch, when Dree noted a familiar face in the crowd.
Again, Mairearad was wearing an unrelieved black tee shirt and trousers, her ebony hair slicked back into a sleek chignon, and dramatic red lipstick. It was kind of weird to see a vampire walking around in the sunlight. The sun didn’t glow on her alabaster skin so much as reflect like a mirror.
Dree said to Chiara, “Oh, she works with Maxence at his charity, and she’s from Phoenix. We should ask her out for lunch. I talked to her once and told her about the Thai chicken salad over at Patrick’s.”
Chiara consulted her phone with a precise head tilt before she looked back to Dree. “I have dry-cleaning to pick up and a few other errands. If you want to ask her to lunch, I’ll beg off for an hour or so. We can resume shopping afterward.”
“I didn’t mean to impose if you have things you need to do,” Dree said, genuinely distressed.
Chiara’s mouth curved slightly in a shy smile, and she folded her hands in front of her and bowed her head. “My job is now shopping for a royal wedding. I assure you,I love my job,but I need clean clothes to wear to it. I will return directly after I finish these two errands. You may enjoy some time without me.”
Dree laughed at her and waggled her new phone. “Okay, I’ll keep in touch.”
Chiara disappeared into the throng of tourists.
Dree’s bodyguard was the ginger-haired Scot today. They picked their way through the tourists and citizens walking between the slick marble wall of the shopping center and the cement barricade protecting them from the street. Lamborghinis and Bugattis screamed a few yards before they screeched to a halt at the stoplight on the corner.
Mairearad wove through the crowd ahead of Dree, a dark silhouette among the tourists’ pastel and floral clothes.
Dree wasn’t going to give the poor woman the third degree about herself and Maxence and whatever had gone on between them. That was old news and none of her business.
However, if Mairearad wasthe tattoo artistwho had inked Arthur’s design of shredded demon wings onto Maxence’s back, Dree wanted more information. A tattoo shouldn’t be a permanent reminder of your deepest, darkest fear about your soul, however unfounded it was.
Dree popped up out of the crowd beside her. “Hey, you’re Mairearad, who works over at Maxence’s charity, right?”
Mairearad’s smile was quick and frozen. “Yes, I work for His Highness’s international charity, Second Sun. It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Clark.”
“I was just going to lunch after a rough morning of shopping,” Dree told her, laughing at herself. “I was planning to head over to that Irish pub with the phenomenal Thai chicken salad I told you about. Can I take you to lunch?”
“I don’t have very long for lunch,” Mairearad said.
“The service is speedy. I think it’s a scheme to get people back to shopping faster. Come on, my treat. I would say that I could count it as a charitable donation and take it off my taxes, but we’re in Monaco. So, you know,no taxes.”
Mairearad chuckled at that. “That’s why everybody in the office jumped at the chance to move from Rome to Monaco. First, Deacon Father Maxence paid for everybody to move here, and then we all immediately got Monegasque permanent residency. We’re making Roman salaries and paying Monegasque taxes, plus we’re getting the citizens’ rent and cost-of-living subsidies. This is awesome.”
Dree laughed at her. “It’s a short walk. Let’s go.”
They started walking vaguely northward and then turned inland on a street blocked off with large cement pylons to reserve it for pedestrian traffic.
Mairearad looked behind them and whispered to Dree, “I think we’re being followed. That redheaded guy back there has been watching and keeping pace with us for the last three blocks.”
Dree glanced back to make sure Mairearad wasn’t talking about somebody else and then said, “He’s fine. That’s Aiden, my security guy. He’s subtle.”
