"I never said I had opinions about pasta authenticity."
"You defended Chef Marcello's diplomat-throwing incident.That implies opinions."
"That implies respect for culinary standards."
"Same thing."
We were bantering.Actually bantering, like two people who enjoyed each other's company, and I realized with a start that I was having fun.Real fun, not the performative enjoyment required at diplomatic functions, but the genuine pleasure of talking to someone who made me think and laugh and forget, at least momentarily, about all the complications surrounding us.
"I should let you get back to your studying," I said, even though I didn't want to leave.
"Probably."She didn't look like she wanted me to leave either."Unless you want to help me practice my speech for tomorrow.Elena sent over a draft, but I'm not sure I'm delivering it with the right amount of royal gravitas."
"Royal gravitas isn't as important as sincerity."
"Easy for you to say.You've been doing this your whole life."
"Which means I know that audiences respond to authenticity more than polish.If you believe what you're saying, they'll believe it too."
She looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable in her expression."That's actually helpful advice.Thank you."
"You sound surprised."
"I'm recalibrating my expectations.Turns out you're occasionally useful when you're not being deceptive."
"High praise from someone who called me 'not completely unbearable' last night."
"I'm a generous soul.Now go away so I can learn about your country's fishing industry.Apparently it's very important."
I left her surrounded by books and went to check on Azzurra again, but my mind kept drifting back to the library.To Betty's smile.
* * *
Betty
THE CHARITY LUNCHEONfor Solmarian Children's Hospital was supposed to be my soft introduction to royal duties."Low stakes," Queen Isabelle had called it during our brief meeting yesterday."Just a short speech about the importance of supporting children's healthcare.Very straightforward."
What she hadn't mentioned was that I'd be speaking to two hundred of Solmarina's most prominent citizens, including half the Mediterranean diplomatic corps, multiple news crews, and a photographer from European Royal Weekly who looked like he was hoping I'd fall on my face.
I stood backstage in the hotel ballroom, smoothing down the pale blue dress Carmela had found in the emergency wardrobe collection.It fit well enough, but wearing Queen Isabelle's borrowed clothes made me feel like a kid playing dress-up in her disapproving mother's closet.
"Your prepared remarks, Your Highness."Elena Marchetti, the palace's deputy communications director, handed me a folder with the air of someone handing over nuclear launch codes."Remember, stick to the script.No improvisation."
"Got it.Script good, improvisation bad."
"I mean it, Your Highness.Queen Isabelle was very specific."
I opened the folder to review my speech one final time and found myself staring at a completely different document.
"This isn't right," I said, flipping through the pages."This is about agricultural subsidies."
Elena frowned and looked over my shoulder."That's impossible.I personally placed your healthcare speech in that folder two hours ago."
"Well, unless children's hospitals are now funded by crop rotation schedules, there's been a mix-up."
She grabbed the folder and rifled through it, her face going pale."I don't understand.Where's the original?"
"That's an excellent question."
