“I don’t know,” Gill admitted. “But I have a feeling we might find out.”
*
Kat changed intothe little black dress she’d been told by a sales clerk could be worn anywhere and put on her grandmother’s pearl earrings and necklace. She pulled out her sling-back heels and held them for five seconds.
No way.
She placed them in the armoire and put on her black kitten-heel pumps instead. She wasn’t used to wearing any size heel. Ending up in a heap at the bottom of the staircase would not be good.
Walking down the stairs wasn’t difficult, but she kept a hand on the railing just in case.
“You’ve got this,” she muttered.
Kat entered the dining room. No one else was there.
She blew out a puff of air.
Good, she had time to get comfortable.
Not that she would ever be completely at ease in such a fancy place. The table could seat at least forty guests and was bigger than those tiny houses that were the new home design craze, even in Cedar Village. Two large crystal-and-gold chandeliers hung over the large table covered with a white linen tablecloth. The six place settings barely took up a third of the space. Gold-rim plates sat on gold chargers with five crystal glasses within arm’s reach.
Each setting had a place card with a name written on them in calligraphy. The card closest to her had Gill’s name on it. His seat was to the right of the head spot. Kat guessed that space belonged to the queen. The card at the place setting to Gill’s right belonged to James. That must be Bertrand’s older brother, Jamie. The other three place settings were on the opposite side of the table. She must be sitting there.
Staring at the numerous forks, spoons, and knifes on either side of the plates made Kat nauseous. She didn’t own this much flatware. Worse, she had no idea when to use each piece. Muscles tightened into melon-sized balls like the ones served with breakfast.
Dinner had epic failure written all over it.
Hers.
What was she going to do?
She didn’t want to let Sophie down and add to her stress. Maybe Kat could claim tiredness—not a lie since she was adjusting to the time change—and ask to eat in her room tonight.
Again.
“May I help you, miss?” A waiter dressed in a formal uniform with an easy smile and short, black hair stood in the doorway. He appeared to be in his early thirties and had a friendly demeanor.
A bale of hay seemed to be pressing on her shoulders. No way could she figure this out on her own.
Maybe he could help her. The man’s smile looked genuine, but he could be one of the queen or crown prince’s minions.
Kat weighed the consequences—make a fool out of herself versus be sold out for needing help. The latter sounded like the better option. She glanced toward the hallway. No one was coming.
“I’ve never had dinner at a castle before,” she said. “Would you mind giving me a rundown on the silverware and what each piece is used for?”
“Gladly, miss.” He bowed. “I’m Isaac.”
“Hi. I’m Kat.”
His grin widened. “You’re Princess Sophia’s American friend. The animal doctor.”
“Yes, I am.”
He looked around as if to make sure they were alone. “We don’t have much time before the royal family arrives, so I’ll give you a short cut to remember for tonight, and we can work more on this another time.”
“That would be great.”
He joined her at the table and motioned to the closest place setting. “As each course is served, use the silverware from the outside in. Let the utensil be cleared away with the plate or bowl. Don’t keep them. And most importantly, follow the queen’s lead. She takes the first bite. Don’t touch any utensil or food before she does.”
“Outside in. Utensils go away. Let Queen go first,” Kat repeated. “I can remember that. Thank you so much.”
“They’re coming,” he whispered. “You can do this.”
Kat appreciated his vote of confidence. She smoothed her dress, took a deep breath, and prayed she did nothing to call attention to herself.
