Page 60 of Night’s Fall (The Four Realms #1)

Clouds

T he next afternoon, I found myself a thirty-year-old female in the middle of a hand slapping fight.

“Laura,” Lancet snapped, planting his hands on his hips. “ You promised. And may I remind you, you don’t have time for this.”

He was right. I did promise, and I didn’t ever have time for a bitch slapping fight. Especially right now.

I was running late. Not super late, but for what was planned this afternoon, any late was too late.

But in my defense, Lancet was making a big drama about this, and my anxiety was on overload.

“Then let me do it,” I tried.

“Do you not trust my vision?” he demanded, pulling out the big guns.

Gah!

I reclined on the killer-cool curve of the chaise in my closet and pouted.

Understanding his victory, I saw his smirk, and for my sanity, I ignored his smirk. I then heard the beeping as Lancet entered the settings before he put the cosme-mask on my face.

More beeping and a, “ Sit up,” order from Lancet . I sat up and the mane-mate hood was slipped over my hair.

I felt the patting, buffing and brushing on my face, and the tugging and twisting on my scalp.

“I cannot believe you live here,” Lancet said. “ This place is so mega, it defines a whole new level of mega.”

I couldn’t speak, because you couldn’t move your face when the cosme-mask was at work. The results were always horrifying.

But he wasn’t wrong, so I gave him a thumbs up.

“And I can’t believe Prince Aleksei is your mate,” Lancet continued. “ He’s so mega, it isn’t a redefinition of it. There hasn’t been a word invented yet to define how mega he is.”

He was so right about that, I gave him two thumbs up.

“I also can’t believe you are imminently going to announce your engagement,” he went on. “ And last, I can’t believe you don’t have your ring yet!”

That last part got a major thumbs down (though, only in my head).

I couldn’t believe it either.

In fact, I was beginning to get worried about it.

Had Aleksei forgotten?

His day was even busier than mine, so he wanted me to meet him at his office before the photo op and interview.

We were going from there to the Palace to sit down with Germaine to hash out how I would answer the questions we’d agreed for the interview.

After that, the photo op (ugh) and vidding the interview (ulk).

I would have my last class with Madam Garwah , and then we were going to swing by for a quick look-see of Spikeback Castle (well, I would be looking and seeing, Aleksei had been there before).

I was a nervous wreck.

I was also far too busy.

Fortunately, my classes with Madam Garwah were ending, I only had that one more (although her classes had become a hassle because of my busy life, truth told, I’d miss her). So that would be something to tick off my to-do list.

But Nata was quickly getting up to speed. This meant I was going to need to accept some invitations, consider what charities I would become a patron of, get on with my royal duties, and Germaine had warned I needed to make a statement with my first choices because they would define my reign.

No pressure there.

I managed to get all my designs in the studio’s Seam - Stitch . They would be ready by the skin of my teeth. But once the fittings were done, the shooting schedule was set to start within a matter of days, and I’d be expected on set for the entirety of the three-month shooting schedule.

Intermingled with all of this, I had the Midnight Masque . There would be an engagement party shortly after. And I had a wedding to plan.

I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to find the balance Aleksei said we’d find.

In fact, just thinking of my scroll through of the invites in the file Nata created, I was thinking it might be impossible.

I wasn’t twenty people. Even if I did this as my full-time gig, like Queen Calisa , I’d have to decline the vast majority of them. The beings who sent them had hope I’d care about what they cared about. It was going to suck to have to tell them, essentially, I didn’t have time for them.

The mask beeped it was done, and Lancet said, “ No peeking. You promised.”

And again…

Gah!

“All right, no peeking,” I agreed, wishing I hadn’t because this look was too important, and giving in to Lancet’s drama was ratcheting up my anxiety.

But he was my friend. This was important to him as well, possibly more important, and he was excited about what he’d designed for me.

I didn’t have the heart to put a damper on that.

He swept the mask away.

Thirty seconds later, the mane-mate beeped, and then that was gone.

He took my hand and pulled me out of the chaise while I made the prodigious effort of avoiding spying myself in any of the mirrors in my closet, of which there were a lot.

“Okay, close your eyes, I got you,” Lancet said.

I closed my eyes, and he untied and divested me of my robe.

“Step in,” he ordered.

As he guided me, I stepped in. I felt a garment shimmy up my hips.

There was some tugging, and my arms were engaged.

I felt fastening, adjusting, a featherlike touch at my left collarbone, cinching at my waist, and then Lancet placed my hand on his shoulder so I could balance as he slid what I could tell were slingback pumps on my feet.

He took my hand and guided me where the three-angle mirror stood.

“Okay, look !” he cried.

I opened my eyes.

And yes.

I should never have worried.

Lancet was my friend too, and I should have trusted him. He’d break his back not to disappoint me.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to do that.

I was wearing a plum-colored dress in a delicious crêpe.

It was ultra-feminine, had a short flutter sleeve, a thin, patent belt at the waist the color of lapis, the same as the sleek, sexy slingbacks on my feet.

There was a large flower brooch made of soft-pink organza and wispy blue feathers pinned over my left collarbone so the feathers tickled my neck.

My makeup was natural, but sophisticated, fresh, with only a hint of dewy, and very feminine. My hair was pulled back in a soft, but complicated chignon at the nape of my neck.

I’d already put my diamond studs in.

It was perfect.

I was perfect.

There was flair. Panache . Style . Color . Personality . Delicacy . But it was refined.

“I think the brooch should be your signature, at least for a while,” Lancet decreed, reaching in to fluff the feathers while he studied his work in the mirror. “ I’m seeing them all over the streets already, since you wore your last one.”

I turned to him. “ Lancet , honey, it’s sheer perfection.”

He looked to me. “ You think?”

I didn’t confirm.

Well, I did, by hugging him.

His arms went around me super tight.

“Laura, this is a huge opportunity you’re giving me,” he said in my ear, and I could hear from the huskiness in his voice how much it meant to him.

Even so, I pulled out of his arms and gave one a playful slap. “ Shut up. You deserve it.” I turned back to the mirror and lifted my hands to my sides. “ See ?”

His eyes got bright with tears.

“Don’t you cry, or I’ll cry,” I warned.

“I set your makeup to waterproof,” he returned.

“I don’t need bloodshot eyes.”

“Any home Medi - Aid would take care of bloodshot eyes in two seconds.”

He was right about that.

“Excuse please,” we heard from the door.

We both looked that way.

Antheme was standing in it.

“We should have left five minutes ago,” she said.

Crap.

I had a super busy schedule, and I knew Aleksei had packed it like that so I wouldn’t have time to think about all that was going on.

I’d never tell him this, but his plan totally backfired, but it was sweet because the thought always counted, right?

Lancet went to the built-in vanity and brought me a clutch that matched my belt and shoes.

“All packed and ready to rumble,” he said.

He was the best.

I kissed his cheek.

Antheme led the way as we left my closet and headed to the lift.

I hugged Lancet before he got into it to go down.

The door was barely sliding closed before Antheme was marching to the stairs to the landing pad.

I followed her.

We were in the craft (a cushy, roomy, luxurious, black, armored UtiliSport , the kind all the celebrities used), and waiting for course approval, when I asked, “ How is your day going?”

“It was going well, until my charge made us seven minutes late.”

Well, there you go.

As ever, Antheme was feeling like being Antheme that day.

This didn’t upset me. I liked that it wasn’t “ Mistress Laura this” and “ Mistress Laura that” with her. She did her job. She took it seriously. She wasn’t a fan of me making it harder for her. She was down to share that. The end.

We were lifting off when I heard the chimes of my Palm in my bag.

I pulled it out and the screen said Video Comm from the Office of Dyt Linstar .

Dyt Linstar was the executive producer of the vid I was working on.

I’d met him, briefly. It wasn’t often (as in ever, except in hiring, and after, in passing) the costume designer brushed shoulders with the head honcho.

I wasn’t sure this would be good news (maybe he was some kind of micromanager and heard I got my costumes programmed in at the last minute and he was going to give me a dressing down?).

I didn’t want to, but I took the comm.

Mr. Linstar’s tanned face filled my display.

“Laura,” he said expansively, smiling widely.

“Uh, hello, Mr . Linstar ,” I replied, surprised by his jovial opening.

“Dyt. Call me Dyt ,” he invited.

“Of course.”

“I have some good news and some bad,” he announced.

Oh boy.

“And what’s that, Dyt ?”