Corina answered the door, warmed by the sight of the petite proprietress. “Come in.”
“My, my, don’t you look beautiful. Absolutely glowing.” She wagged her finger at Corina. “Such a force, true love.”
“What do you see, Adelaide?” Corina returned to the floor mirror to finish pinning up her hair. She learned a lot of hairdo tricks during her brief stint with beauty pageants. “You seem to know more than you’ve been told.”
“Here, let me help you, sweet one.” Adelaide brought a chair over for Corina to sit, then took the pins from her. The woman’s tender touch soothed Corina’s battered emotions. Her exchange with Stephen last night remained with her all day, and she waged one-sided arguments with him. She nearly told him to forget their date when he texted to confirm, but relented.
How could she quit on this “love well” journey so easily? Patience might be required.
“Everything will be all right,” Adelaide said, sweeping up Corina’s hair.
Corina peered at Adelaide through the mirror. She’d broken down this afternoon and confided in Adelaide about her date with the prince. She had to tell someone. Bearing all of this alone burdened her. Stephen had Thomas. And his family. She had no one.
You know so much, Adelaide. And I know so little about you.”
“I told you, I’m a servant.”
“Who’s servant.”
“Yours. His.”
“The king’s? The producer of the movie? Stephen’s? Of the inn? And is Brill your husband?”
Adelaide ducked behind Corina’s head and gently pushed the last pin into her hair. “Brill is me fellow servant.” She stepped around in front. “The prince won’t be able to take his eyes from you.” Adelaide brushed her hand gently over Corina’s cheeks. “Tears? Love, what are these tears?”
Corina laughed low, holding the woman’s hands in hers. “You’re . . . you’re just so kind.”
“Your lonely heart will brim with love very soon.” Adelaide stooped to see her face. “Just believe.”
“See, there you go again. How do you know my heart will brim with love?”
She tapped the corner of her eye. “I sees what I sees. And I know how lonely you’ve been. We all watched and waited as he prayed for you.”
“He? Stephen?” Corina gripped Adelaide’s wrists, willing a straight answer from her.
“Jesus, of course. He is the King of the kingdom.”
“He prays for me. A–and you saw him?”
“But of course.” Adelaide turned for the door. “Now, I’ve the perfect adornment for your hair.”
Corina tried to protest, but the flames Adelaide kept igniting within her incinerated her words.
Tiptoeing over to the door, Corina leaned out, listening. The theory of the inn as a movie prop with Adelaide and Brill as character actors weakened with every interaction with them.
They were just too real. Too sincere. Too otherworldly. Dare she believe it?
Also, the inn was too weird. As if built for one. Why would a director go to all the expense of a “stunt inn” for one?
On her return from the art festival this afternoon, Corina noted there were no other floors. As she climbed five flights to her room, each landing only led her up the next set of stairs. No windows. No corridors. No closed-door rooms.
“Here we are.” Adelaide bounded off the top step into the room, carrying a polished, dark wood box. “I just love this piece.” She set it on the bed in front of the mirror. “Sit here and I’ll fit it on.”
Corina sat, squinting into the box. “What’s in there?”
Adelaide lifted the lid with ahmmmof delight. Inside, lying on red velvet, was a delicate, single-tiered, diamond tiara.
Corina jumped up. “Adelaide, no. A tiara? I’m attending the premier with Prince Stephen. I cannot wear a tiara.” No need to go into the whole “wife of a prince” confession. “Where did you get that?”
