I huffed dramatically. “Fine.”
“Oh, don’t sigh like that. You sound like Eugene.” Birdie shook the scarf with a flourish before wrapping it around my eyes and securing it at the back of my head.
I chuckled. Much like Birdie and Knox’s dog, I was enjoying being melodramatic about this combination bridal shower-bachelorette party, even though I was not actually being put out in any way. All I knew about the day was that I was spending the afternoon with Birdie, Mel, Dash, and other yet-to-be-revealed guests, and that the evening held an overnight excursion outside of the city.
Several minutes later, the car came to a stop and I heard the driver come around to the door. Birdie got out first, then grabbed my hand to help me out.
She led me forward a few feet before instructing me up four steps. I heard the door of a building open. “Everything ready?” Birdie asked someone.
“All set,” Mel’s voice answered.
The girls shuffled me a few steps inside and the door clicked shut behind me.
“Just a bit farther,” Birdie said, leading me with a hand on my elbow. Our shoes clacked against stone floors, and I thought I caught the scent of old books.
“Ready?” Birdie asked as she brought me to a stop. I nodded. “Three, two, one…”
She untied the blindfold and I blinked, taking in the sight before me. We were in St. Jerome Library, the oldest public library in Wexstone and one of my most beloved places in Altborn. Before me stood Birdie, Mel, Dash, Sabine, and Cora—another of the other women previously in the competition for Oliver’s hand. Evelyn and her friends Hilda, Polly, Mildred, and Ida—a group we often referred to as the “Golden Gals”—were perched on burgundy settees. A table to the side held bottles of champagne and trays of crudités,meats, cheeses, bite-size tarts, and miniature chocolate cakes. A sign that read “Her Next Chapter” sat next to a bouquet of pale pink flowers accented with roses made from book pages.
It took me only a moment to realize that we were in my favorite room—coincidentally named The Courtwright Room. It had always reminded me of the library in the animatedBeauty and the Beastmovie with its frescoed ceiling, gilt molding, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covering every wall, and ornate mezzanine circling the room.
“How did youdothis?” I asked breathlessly.
Evelyn spoke up from her seat between Hilda and Polly. “Perks of being royalty, dear.”
I flushed as everyone chuckled. I didn’t think I would ever get used to the privilege that came from being connected to the royal family. Although, if it included being able to spend uninterrupted time in the St. Jerome, I might be able to make an exception.
Birdie and Mel took my hands and pulled me to the circle of armchairs and settees that had been arranged in the center of the room, joining the Golden Gals.
“Now, I know you said nothing raunchy today,” Birdie pouted, “and I followed your rules.” This elicited a “psh” from Evelyn and Hilda. I bit the inside of my lips to suppress a laugh. “So instead, we’re going to spend a nice, low-key afternoon together, enjoy some snacks, have a few glasses of bubbly, and make sure you know how much we love you and are here to support you in this next chapter.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice catching with emotion. I squeezed her hand and cleared my throat, speaking louder. “Truly, it means so much to me to have you all here and to have your support. You’re all so very dear to me.”
“Spoken like a true queen!” Dash said. He clapped his hands together. “Now, let’s make good on that ‘few glasses of bubbly’ promise, hmm?”
Soon we were settled in with plates of food and delicate champagne coupes filled with the sparkling wine.
I moaned happily as I bit into one of the chocolate petit fours.
“Treating us to a taste of what Oliver gets to hear when you’re alone?” Dash remarked wickedly. Birdie and Mel cackled while I resisted the urge to flip him off—that didn’t feel very royal. Instead, I rolled my eyes and changed the subject, turning to Cora. She was the wildly talented baker at a local café and patisserie.
“Did you make the desserts?” I asked.
She nodded, her round cheeks flushing a brilliant red. “I did. I started working a day or two each week at The Cakerie and am going to be making your wedding cake.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Cora! I’m so happy for you,” I said effusively.
“And what of your flowers, dear?” Mildred asked. “Who is doing those?”
Sabine shot a sharp look toward the old woman.
“We wouldn’t dream of having anyone but Sabine do them,” I answered quickly.
Mel leaned in close, her words only loud enough for me to hear. “Not least of which is because you’re scared of her, of course.”
“Absolutely petrified,” I breathed. Sabine was the kind of woman you loved to have on your side and would not want to go up against. I had come to adore her.
As the Golden Gals engaged Cora and Sabine in what could only be called an interrogation about the wedding details (“You haven’t told us anything!” Polly chided Evelyn,who responded with, “I am too busy to keep abreast ofallthe palace goings-on, Polly.”), I felt the cold hand of guilt take hold of me again.
