Putting their hair into a decent ponytail was something most women with long hair could quickly, and she was no different.
As she released the band, Elise stared at herself in the mirror. She could do this. Using a big brush to dust a layer of loose powder over face was all she had time for.
The knock on the door came as she slipped her feet back into the ballet flats she’d kicked off before her nap.
Elise stopped in front of the door and sucked in a deep breath.
She could do this.
Whatever it was.
She could do it.
4
Staring out the window of his office, Frederick wondered how this meeting would go.
He hadn't slept much. The information his aide had provided the night before wouldn't let his mind settle.
The news this morning meant he likely wouldn't sleep much the next time he tried.
In the distance, he could see a few autos driving along the streets. Residents and guests were not yet wandering around the pier, shopping or eating at an outdoor table like they would in a few hours. He knew they likely thought life in the palace was glamorous and easy. That was true to a certain extent - at least at times.
State dinners were glamorous. He never had to clean bathrooms, would never have to worry about his auto breaking down, or planning and preparing meals for his family.
With the privilege came responsibilities as well.
He wasn't solely responsible for the wellbeing of his country and his people - that was shared with both Parliament and the Council - but he felt the weight as though it rested on his shoulders alone.
It also came with expectations that were so unrealistic and ludicrous that most people would have a hard time believing. Those who married into the royal family often chafed under the restrictions placed on them. Some were requirements codified into law or other guiding documents. Some were traditional requirements that were sometimes enforced more harshly than the legal ones.
That was the focus of his frustration at the moment.
"Sir?" His aide interrupted thoughts.
"Yes?" Frederick didn't turn around.
"Ms. Stephens is here."
"Send her in." He continued looking out the window, even after the door whispered closed. Blowing out a breath, Frederick pivoted to see a nervous Elise across the office.
She tucked one foot behind the other and dipped into a curtsy. "Good morning." Her nose wrinkled. "I think. Is it morning? I'm really not sure."
Frederick couldn't stop the half smile that crossed his face. "It is morning, but still very early." He motioned to a chair near where he stood. "Please. Have a seat."
"Is everything okay?" Elise sounded worried as she hurried across the office.
He waited until she took a seat. "There are some things that will be in the media this morning that you need to be aware of before they become public."
As she settled back, he could see her face and shoulders relax. "I can handle the tabloids. They don't faze me anymore. Do you know how many times I've found out I bought a house at Lake Como?" A grin crossed her face.
A grin he was probably going to be responsible for spoiling.
"There are pictures of us arriving at the airport. They were taken from a great distance with a very long lens. They're grainy but unmistakably us."
"And there's rumors that we're an item?" She shrugged. "I've dated people I've never met, at least if you believe the grocery store checkout aisles. I'm sure you have as well."
Frederick nodded. "I have, but things are a little different this time. You stayed here after we arrived. That means they'll take the rumors to another level. Once you make it to the set, you can be fairly isolated. They'll take good care of making sure the press stays away from you. You'll have to arrive and depart your hotel under cover, and you won't be able to do anything in public."
