Page 8 of Royal Icing

The most magnificent castle she had ever seen stood imposingly in front of them. Turrets adorned with whiteChristmas lights pierced the golden sky. Endless yards of garland hung from the privacy walls. Through the security gates and into the courtyard, Emma’s mouth was agape. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree that must have been thirty feet tall stood in the middle of it all.

So there really was a castle, and a royal family, and presumably the biggest job of her entire career waiting behind the impressive front door. Time to panic.

When they jerked to a stop, Maya finally looked up from her phone. “Huh. Not bad.”

Understatement of the century.

They exited, and Emma snapped a quick picture to send to her mom and Lola. Cooper sat in the freshly fallen snow next to her, panting happily.

“Here.” Maya handed over her phone. She struck a pose next to the Christmas tree.

Of course. She had nearly forgotten that half her job here was being Maya’s professional photographer.

Emma captured a couple pictures and handed the phone back. The driver dropped off their bags and drove away, leaving them staring at the castle.

Maya marched up to the front door and knocked on it. It swung open, and they were greeted by a maid. Cooper followed Emma inside and sat on her foot.

The hall was luxurious, with mile-high ceilings and art in ornate frames lining the walls. Polished marble floors stretched into the distance, where a double staircase covered in rich garland curved gently to the second floor. Was that a suit of armor? She was definitely going to get lost here.

Heels rang down a long hallway to their left, and another woman appeared. A navy dress flattered her trim figure, which helped distract from the fact that her smile looked like it was plastered on.

“Ladies. Thank you so much for joining us. How was your journey?”

“Comfortable enough,” Maya said. She leaned forward and shook the newcomer’s hand. “Nice to see you again.”

“I’m Beatrice, the royal publicist,” the woman explained to Emma.

How had Beatrice beaten them back? The royal family must have a private plane.

“We’re going to meet with Her Majesty, and then I’ll show you where you’re staying.”

Cooper let out a low woof.

She glanced at him, then called for a maid.

“The dog?—”

“Cooper,” Emma clarified.

“Cooper can stay here while you have your meeting.”

A knot formed in Emma’s stomach as she passed his leash to the maid. She certainly had not planned to meet the queen fifteen seconds after arriving. She hadn’t slept or showered, and she was in leggings and a sweatshirt covered in dog hair. Not exactly apparel for meeting a world leader. She would have to hide behind Maya, who always dressed like someone was going to leap out from behind a bush and put her on the cover ofVogue.

“Follow me, please.” Beatrice turned and marched down the hallway. They passed room after room. Harried-looking people scurried by carrying linens, feather dusters, and candlesticks. It was hard to believe that people actually lived like this.

Eventually, they arrived at some fancy room—a parlor? A drawing room? Whatever it was, it was bigger than her entire apartment.

“Your Majesty,” Beatrice said with a bow.

Emma almost tripped. Shit, what was she supposed to do? Bow? Curtsy? Handshake? Definitely not handshake. She’dend up in the dungeon. She mimicked Beatrice’s curtsy, and her knees creaked. Maya curtsied in an exaggerated sweeping motion as though she had practiced for hours. And maybe she had.

The queen was as stately and imposing as the castle itself. Even though it was barely eight in the morning, she wore an expensive-looking dress with a cropped jacket, and her hair was gathered in an elegant chignon. Her back was ramrod-straight, and her walk was more of a glide as she left her desk and approached them. She paused to take them both in, with a lingering glance on Emma’s outfit.

Emma swallowed hard.

“Ladies,” the queen said. “Thank you for joining us on such short notice.”

“We’re honored to be here, Your Majesty,” Maya said. Her voice dripped with honey. She was definitely vying to be the queen’s future daughter-in-law.