"So this is where you made coffee," she said."It's...cozy."
"It's a dump," I corrected."But it's my dump.Has been ever since your security team bought it in my name to get my manager fired."
"A worthwhile investment, from what I heard about him."
The Grand Duchess's gaze landed on Mom, and something complicated passed between them."Mrs.Montclair."
"Your Grace."
"Thank you for letting me be here.I know I have no right to ask for inclusion in Betty's life after what I did."
My mother was quiet for a long moment.Then she walked over to the wheelchair, bent down, and took the Grand Duchess's trembling hands in hers.
"You have every right," she said."You're her grandmother.You loved her before I did, lost her through no fault of your own, and spent twenty years hoping she'd come back."Her voice cracked slightly."I can't imagine that pain.I don't want to imagine it."
"I can't imagine the joy of raising her," the Grand Duchess replied."Of watching her grow up, learn to walk, go to school.You had all the moments I missed."
"And you'll have all the moments we'll miss.The royal ones.The princess things."Mom squeezed her hands."She needs both of us.Different kinds of family for different parts of her life."
I watched this exchange with a lump in my throat.These two women, from completely different worlds, finding common ground in their love for me.It shouldn't work.Nothing about any of this should work.
And yet.
"If you two are done making me cry before my wedding," I managed, "I still need to get dressed."
Petra appeared with a garment bag."I have your dress, Your Highness.And Carmela sent specific instructions about your hair that I'm choosing to interpret as suggestions rather than commands."
"Carmela would be horrified if she knew you were doing my hair instead of her."
"Carmela is currently in Solmarina making sure things are perfect for your homecoming."Petra unzipped the garment bag to reveal the dress I had chosen: simple white silk, knee-length, no train or elaborate beading.A dress for a coffee shop wedding, not a cathedral."She said to tell you she expects photographs, and if your eyeliner is uneven, she'll never forgive me."
I took the dress and headed to the back room that had once served as my break room.The same dingy space where I'd eaten sad lunches and complained about Derek and dreamed of a life that was somehow more than this.
Funny how "more" had turned out to mean something I never could have imagined.
I was halfway into the dress when a knock sounded at the door.
"I'm not decent," I called.
"I know.That's rather the point."
Archie's voice, low and amused.I clutched the dress to my chest.
"You can't see me before the wedding.It's bad luck."
"I thought you didn't believe in royal superstitions."
"I don't believe in royal protocol.Superstitions are different."I zipped up the back of the dress as best I could."What do you want?"
"To give you something.Close your eyes."
“Fine.”I closed my eyes.The door opened, and I heard him cross the room, his footsteps careful on the old linoleum.
"Hold out your hands."
I did.Something cool was placed in my palms.I opened my eyes to find a delicate silver bracelet with a single charm: a tiny coffee cup.
"It was my mother's," Archie said.He was standing close enough that I could smell his cologne, see the slight nervous tension in his shoulders."She collected charms from places she visited, things that mattered to her.This one was from a café in Paris where she had her first espresso."
