“I do like green.”
The woman removed a satiny dress and held it up. The front was too low-cut for Adelaide’s taste, plus the fabric looked overly shiny. Not to mention the price was ridiculous. She shook her head as she reached for a dark green velveteen dress with a more conservative cut. Not showy, but somewhat sophisticated.
“No, no, that is for old frau,” the woman said. “Not you.”
“I like it.” Adelaide also liked the price. “May I try it on?”
The woman shrugged, then led her to a changing room. While Adelaide was zipping it up, she overheard Anton speaking to the woman in German. They conversed too quickly for her to follow, but the woman sounded pleased. Very pleased. Because the changing room was small and poorly lit, Adelaide slipped out to peek into the better-lit mirror just outside the fitting room.
“Very nice,” Anton said when he saw her.
“Really? It doesn’t look like an old frau’s dress?” She glanced at the saleswoman, who covered her mouth and giggled.
“Not on you.” He came closer. “You look respectably stylish. Very suitable for a royal family dinner.”
“Good.” She felt relieved.
Now the saleswoman came over, cradling several more dresses in her arms. “You should try these too.” She smiled. “Your size.”
“No thanks. I like this one.”
“But not just one.” She held the dresses out toward Adelaide. “A princess needs more than just one.”
Adelaide glanced nervously at Anton. “You told her that I’m—”
“It’s all right. I called the palace and Herr Schneider actuallyspoke with the king just now. Your father is eager for all to know he has a daughter. He has authorized all your purchases, and he encourages you to gather a suitable wardrobe for the upcoming season’s festivities. As it turns out, the royal family already has an account here. You are to use it for anything you need.” He pointed to the saleswoman, who was beaming. She probably worked on commission. “Frieda is happy to help. I’ve explained to her what you’ll need.”
“But I—”
“It will please your father,” he said quietly but firmly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you ladies to it. I need to make a few more phone calls.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back around five, if you don’t mind.”
“But I don’t need—”
“Do it for your father,” he insisted. “He rarely puts demands on anyone, but Herr Schneider said he adamantly asked for this.”
She took in a deep breath, then nodded. “Fine, I will do my best. For the king.” She lowered her voice. “But for the record, I’m in over my head here. I’ve never been good at this sort of thing.”
Anton patted Frieda’s back. “That’s why you have this expert to help you.” He looked at Frieda. “Do keep in mind that Frau Smith is a princess, and she should dress in a manner befitting a princess. Stylishly respectable.”
Frieda nodded. “Ja. I do understand.”
Anton smiled at Adelaide, tipped his head to both of them, then made an overly eager exit.
Frieda went to work. Rather, Adelaide went to work. It was a marathon of trying on many garments, shoes, boots, and accessories. She couldn’t recall how often she’d said ja or nein, but by five, her green velveteen dress was in a garment bag to take with her, as well as a pair of pretty black pumps in a box. Everything else was scheduled for delivery to thepalace the next morning. She let Anton help her back into the Land Rover.
As he drove her the short distance to the palace, Adelaide was too exhausted to speak and, to her relief, he seemed to understand. She vaguely wondered how long she’d been awake by now. It felt like days. She suddenly envisioned herself dining with the king and queen, all prim and proper and cordial during the first course, but then falling dead asleep ... and doing a face-plant right into the soup.
CHAPTER
Seven
At exactly six o’clock, Adelaide, dressed in her new gown, made her way to the door that led to the royal family living area, just like Anton had told her to do. Taking a deep, calming breath, she rang the bell with a silent prayer for this evening to proceed smoothly.
A woman in a maid’s uniform answered. “Welcome, Frau Smith. Please, come in.” She led her into a cozy living room, which was more formal than Adelaide’s taste and didn’t really look like a room in a palace. “Please, sit.”
Adelaide thanked her and sat in a wingback chair that faced the fireplace, which was warmly crackling. Relieved to have this moment alone to acclimate to this new setting, she leaned back and tried to relax by closing her eyes. But when she felt herself nearly falling asleep, she jerked herself awake.
It took a moment to get her bearings, but according to the ornate mantel clock, it was now 6:20. Had she gotten the time wrong? Or was this considered just being elegantly late? But wasn’t that for guests, not hosts? Oh, how would she know?
