A Farewell to Charms (18 page)

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Authors: Lindsey Leavitt

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Themes, #Adolescence, #Royalty, #Action & Adventure, #General, #Social Issues, #Fiction - Young Adult

BOOK: A Farewell to Charms
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“What are you going to do?”

“Talk her out of it, I guess. It wasn’t the kind of plotting I had in mind.”

Reed grabbed my wrist, excited. My skin tingled with energy. “Not what you had in mind, but it’s perfect!”

“No way. Too many people would be hurt.”

“Don’t
really
ruin the wedding. Just let Floressa think you are.”

“What? Why?”

Reed dropped my wrist and strode over to his motorcycle. I hurried after him.

“This will be the perfect way to distract Floressa. Look, I’ll take care of contacting the Caprices and getting them into the wedding along with Floressa’s extra invite list.”

“But Floressa told me
I
had to.”

“That’s because she thinks I’m Barrett and doesn’t want to involve him.” Reed waved at the nannies standing at the edge of the grass staring at us. “You keep Floressa happy and brainstorm questions to ask the Caprices.”

“Hey, remember how you said there is an application on the manual that can tell if someone is a sub?”

“Yeah. I haven’t used it yet. But this girl isn’t a sub anymore.”

“But maybe there’s a little trace of magic left and it’ll show up on the radar. It’s worth trying, right?”

Reed glanced back at the nannies. “It wouldn’t hurt. Might help narrow down somehow.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Final question. What do we do when we know we have the right girl?”

“I don’t know. Find a way to make her remember?”

“But she had her memory washed.”

“Hey, I found the girls. You work out that part.” He handed me my helmet. “We have to get back. That nanny just pulled out her camera phone.”

He shoved his helmet over his head before the nannies had a chance to get a decent shot. We zipped down the hills and back into Floressa’s driveway. He parked the bike and jumped off. “Hurry. Floressa’s going to give me grief if we’re gone too long.”

My stomach flipped. He was certainly in a rush to get back to her. I wondered how many times Reed had subbed for Barrett, how many times he’d seen Floressa. How many times he’d kissed her. No, I didn’t want to know the answer to that.

Floressa ran out to meet us. “Des—Elsa. Ryder’s here. Emergency. He wants to do a color analysis on you, stat. I think you’re a summer, but he swears you’re a winter. Come on!”

I turned to Reed, but he was already getting back on the motorcycle. He revved his engine. “Have fun, girls. Big day coming up.”

N
ow that Floressa thought I was on board with her plan to ruin the wedding, we got along much better. And I would never publicly admit this, but the next two days of whirlwind planning and scheming with Floressa was, well…It was fun. Floressa had this way of sucking you into her world, until you got to this point where it almost felt normal to design four dresses for one party. I let myself get into the glitter and glam because if I sat down for one second, my stomach pitted up with the epic task ahead of me, both with Floressa and with Caprice.

The night before the wedding, Floressa and I shoe shopped in her bedroom. A salesman from an elite boutique had set up hundreds of shoes in our sizes. I was trying on a pair of green sandals that cost more than my dad’s car when Gina came into the room, glowing and grinning. “Flossie! There you girls are. Are you prepared for the party tomorrow?”

Floressa rolled her eyes. “I already told her about the wedding, Mom.”

“Honey, stop blabbing!” Gina offered me an encouraging smile. “Not that I think you’ll tell anyone, dear, but I’ve gone to such great lengths to keep this secret. My publicist doesn’t even know.”

“Don’t worry. I’m royal—I understand the importance of secrecy.”

She squeezed my shoulder. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how giddy I am about tomorrow.”

“It’s your fourth wedding.” Floressa yawned.

“Well, my first marriage was to the king, and since we’re getting married again, I’ll count it as three.”

“That’s like Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton,” I said.

“Who?” Floressa asked.

“They were, like, the biggest Hollywood couple of the sixties,” I said. “She was married eight times, twice to Richard Burton.”

“Do you watch a lot of old movies on your farm?” Floressa asked, confused.

Nope. Elsa probably does not. I examined my new manicure. “I, er, read about it in some Elizabeth Taylor tribute piece.”

“Well, third time’s the charm for me,” Gina said. “Aung is it. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

Floressa didn’t say anything.

“He’s a lucky man,” I said.

Gina brushed her hand along Floressa’s hair. “And Floressa will have a father, and a sister, and a title. It’s a wonderful package deal. We’re all lucky.”

“Oooh, look at these ones!” Floressa dove for a pair of gold pumps. “Perfect!”

Gina laughed. “Well, I’ll let you girls get back to your shopping. Floressa, I e-mailed you some ideas for your toast.”

“I’m not doing a toast,” Floressa said.

“Well, in case you change your mind,” Gina said, the pain clear in her voice.

I waited until Gina was gone to hit Floressa with my sandal. “Why are you so mean to her?”

“Oh, please. She’s ruining my life. Let’s not get into it.”

“But did you see how excited she was about your dad? She’s totally in love.”

“She was in love with her last two husbands, too. Trust me, it’s not going to last.” She checked her watch. “So, what have you figured out for the wedding-ruining stuff?”

Under any other circumstance, I would run out and tell Gina what Floressa was planning. It physically hurt, knowing I might be a part of causing someone grief. And worse, I couldn’t feel one molecule of magic when subbing for Floressa, because I couldn’t relate to her in this situation. I didn’t feel bad for her, or want to understand her better. Zippo empathy.

What I wanted to do was slap her. But only after she gave me the new shoes.

“You really want to go through with this?” I asked.

“Yes,” Floressa said firmly. “That’s why you’re here. So. Ideas?”

“I had one.”

Floressa dragged me over to her bed and propped herself on her elbows. “Spill.”

“I wrote up a press release about the wedding,” I said slowly. “If we send it out, every major news source will be all over the story. The privacy will be blown, and your mom will call it off.”

“For now. She’ll just do another ceremony later.”

“What, do you want me to make your parents break up forever and hate each other?”

“Not hate each other.” Floressa chewed on her lip and looked away. “Just never want to get married. Seriously, my life will be a nightmare. Living with a new family I don’t know in a new country I don’t like. That can’t happen.”

“I can’t make them fall out of love. Even magic can’t override that.”

“Fine. Magic, shmagic. But we’ll wait to send out the press release until right before the ceremony. I still want the party. And one more important question.”

“What?” I asked wearily.

She pointed to the shoes. “Gold or silver?”

The next morning, I found Floressa surrounded by a flurry of makeup artists and hairdressers. The ceremony was at a private ranch in the mountains outside of Malibu. Gina and the king had already gone up for final preparations, and Floressa, Barrett, and I were supposed to meet them in three hours. Which meant crunch time for the Floressa team. Ryder, her main stylist, was trying to sew Floressa into her purple minidress, but she wasn’t cooperating. Surprise.

I handed Floressa the two sheets of paper that I’d printed out that morning.

“What are these?” she asked. “Don’t make me read. I have enough to worry about today.”

“You don’t want me reading those out loud,” I said.

“Ouch! Ryder!” she screamed. “That’s the fifth time you’ve poked me.”

“It’s the eighteenth time you’ve moved,” Ryder said through a mouthful of pins. “Numbers are still in your favor. Now, what is this? A script?”

Floressa scrunched up her nose as she read the two sheets. “This”—she pointed to the first sheet—“is brilliant. The other thing you can just throw away, because I’m not going to need it.” She crumpled the paper and threw it on the ground.

I dove for the sheet and smoothed it out. “Just in case you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“You might.”

“I WILL NOT!” Floressa’s face went red.

The room quieted. Ryder held up a hand, and the rest of the makeup crew fled the room. He spit the pins out of his mouth and stood so he was towering over Floressa. “Do you know how splotchy your skin gets when you’re hysterical? Do you?”

Floressa grabbed a pillow and hid her face.

“Do I need to pull out
Celebrity Insider
and show you the picture at Ashleigh Vickerson’s fashion show where you got upset and SPLOTCHED UP THE PAGE?”

Floressa lowered her pillow. “No.”

“Good,” Ryder said. “Now, Your Highness.”

“Which highness?” Floressa asked. “We’re
both
princesses, remember?”

Ryder shot her a murderous look. “Princess Elsa. Can this wait for later?”

“Just giving Floressa what she asked for.” I gave Floressa a pointed look. “It’s up to you what you do with that. I haven’t sent that release to anyone. I also e-mailed it to you, along with contacts, so
you
can send it out when you’re ready. If you feel good about it.”

Floressa picked at her skirt. “I don’t feel good about any of this. It’s lose-lose.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” I nudged her with the sheet of paper she’d crumpled. “Just hold on to this.”

Floressa folded both pieces of paper and tucked them into her bejeweled clutch. “Fine. I’ll think about it. Sheesh, who’s paying you to be my conscience anyway?”

Ryder looked at both of us and shook his head. “Paying? If this is some royal code, I don’t speak it. But I do speak fashion, and we need to get you in your outfit, Princess Elsa. Floressa, will you be all right for fifteen minutes?”

Floressa was staring off into space. She shook her head like she was trying to shake off our conversation. I knew Floressa was good, deep down. DEEP deep down. I still hoped she wouldn’t send that press release, still hoped she’d support her mom instead. “Just make sure you leave an hour for us to finalize accessories,” she said.

“At least,” Ryder said. He led me into an adjourning guest room, which was being used as a makeshift changing room. Hanging on a hanger was the most spectacular aqua dress I’d ever seen. “For me?”

Ryder took a step back. “A little ice queeny, but you are a winter, and aqua is just too hot right now.”

“I love it,” I whispered, fingering the delicate fabric.

“That’s the first positive thing I’ve heard today,” Ryder said. “Someone needs to slap that girl back to her senses.”

“I would if I could.”

Ryder giggled. “You and me both. Now slip that little number on and let’s make sure the measurements are right.”

I changed in the bathroom. Elsa looked stunning in jammies, so this dress made her absolutely…

“Ethereal.” Ryder gasped when I came back. “You will walk up to every camera at that party and tell them it is a Ryder Sullivan original, understand? That dress will be the highlight of my spring season.”

Even though he wasn’t talking about me, I blushed. “Thanks. I just hope Floressa approves.”

“She won’t.”

“What?” The last thing I needed today was to have Floressa mad at me because of my clothes. “Why? Is she wearing aqua later?”

“Oh, honey. Ryder Sullivan does NOT duplicate his color palette at the same event! No, Floressa doesn’t like to be outshined. It’s a good thing you’re dating Barrett’s brother, because otherwise she would not let you NEAR her boy looking that good.”

“What? Oh, I don’t like Barrett—”

“That’s what I’m saying. But still, little advice, stay back. Going on a motorcycle ride when you’re all grungy is one thing, but that dress…now I’m wondering if I went too far.” Ryder’s phone rang. “Speaking of. I better go check that she’s not burning that paper. What’d you do, add her to a not-hot list?”

“I wish I could tell you,” I said. “You might want to give her a little pep talk on wedding etiquette, though.”

Ryder gave me a confused look and closed the door. I turned and looked at myself/Elsa in the mirror one last time. Despite all the attached drama, I felt a little bad that she was missing this. She deserved to know what it felt like to wear a dress this beautiful.

There was a knock on the door. I called out, “Did you find me a diamond necklace, Ryder?”

“Oh, now you’re stealing jewels?” The door opened, and standing in front of me was a very angry looking Prince Karl. His face softened for a moment when he saw Elsa in her dress, but he shook it off.

My heart stopped. Like, no beats happened. No breathing happened. My blood froze in my body and I just stood there, everything suspended. So maybe I did still like him, a little. Or maybe I was just really in character as Elsa. Either way, Prince Karl was not who I’d expected to see walk through the door. “Karl?”

“Yes, lovely to meet you.” Karl checked his watch. “Now I think you need to give up my girlfriend’s identity before you mess up her whole life. If you have any decency.”

Barrett skidded past the door, completely out of breath. “Meet…Karl. He…came back a little…early. Must have wanted…to see…evergreen trees.”

“Evergreen,” I repeated faintly. So Reed was still here. And now, here was the real Karl. My two crushes, side by side. Oh, boy.

“And the jig is up.” Karl pushed Reed’s hand off his shoulder. “I ran into my idiot brother at the resort and found out he’d ditched so he didn’t have to attend Gina and Aung’s royal wedding. Of course, Elsa had no idea she had booked a sub during such an important time. So I switched with my sub and got the first flight to L.A. to see what was happening myself. Elsa would be here, but Nana Helga wanted to stay at the resort. Plus, Elsa said she knew Desi…That’s your name, right?”

I nodded. He knew my name. This was so weird.

“Well, she said Desi was a good person and that you wouldn’t do anything to harm her. Now I hear from Barrett’s sub that you’re trying to ruin a wedding, and Elsa will be the one to take the blame.” Karl snorted. “Sometimes Elsa is a little too trusting.”

“Now, hold on here,” Reed said. “I didn’t say Desi was trying to ruin the wedding. I said she was trying to stop Floressa from ruining the wedding—”

“I don’t want to hear from you, either.” Karl scowled at Reed. “You’re in on this too. Why would Floressa ruin her own mum’s wedding? I’m going to go have a talk with Floressa, fix this mess, and make sure my girlfriend’s reputation stays intact.”

“Girlfriend?” I asked, finally finding my voice. “Really, is Elsa, like, officially your girlfriend now?”

Karl gave me a weary look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing.” I swallowed. I
could
point out that I was a big reason that Karl even had Elsa as a girlfriend, thank you, and now he was repaying me with a bunch of uninformed accusations. “Look, you’re going to stop yelling at us right now. We are helping, and I do NOT appreciate your tone. Got that, Prince Karl?”

Both boys looked at me with shocked expressions. Crazy—they looked so…brotherly next to each other.

“Do you really think I would risk my job or hurting Elsa’s reputation and Floressa’s parents’ happiness by ruining this wedding? Seriously?”

“Well, yes,” Karl said sheepishly. “I thought—”

“The only one who would ruin this wedding is Floressa—that’s her choice, and I can’t force her to do anything that she doesn’t want to do. I’ve told her I will help her with a few other requests. Barrett, or Fake Barrett, is in charge of adding some of Floressa’s friends to the guest list. Fine. As for me,

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