CHAPTER 12 #2
We were bantering. Actually bantering, like two people who enjoyed each other's company, and I realized with a start that I was having fun.
Real fun, not the performative enjoyment required at diplomatic functions, but the genuine pleasure of talking to someone who made me think and laugh and forget, at least momentarily, about all the complications surrounding us.
"I should let you get back to your studying," I said, even though I didn't want to leave.
"Probably." She didn't look like she wanted me to leave either. "Unless you want to help me practice my speech for tomorrow. Elena sent over a draft, but I'm not sure I'm delivering it with the right amount of royal gravitas."
"Royal gravitas isn't as important as sincerity."
"Easy for you to say. You've been doing this your whole life."
"Which means I know that audiences respond to authenticity more than polish. If you believe what you're saying, they'll believe it too."
She looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable in her expression. "That's actually helpful advice. Thank you."
"You sound surprised."
"I'm recalibrating my expectations. Turns out you're occasionally useful when you're not being deceptive."
"High praise from someone who called me 'not completely unbearable' last night."
"I'm a generous soul. Now go away so I can learn about your country's fishing industry. Apparently it's very important."
I left her surrounded by books and went to check on Azzurra again, but my mind kept drifting back to the library. To Betty's smile.
* * *
Betty
THE CHARITY LUNCHEON for Solmarian Children's Hospital was supposed to be my soft introduction to royal duties. "Low stakes," Queen Isabelle had called it during our brief meeting yesterday. "Just a short speech about the importance of supporting children's healthcare. Very straightforward."
What she hadn't mentioned was that I'd be speaking to two hundred of Solmarina's most prominent citizens, including half the Mediterranean diplomatic corps, multiple news crews, and a photographer from European Royal Weekly who looked like he was hoping I'd fall on my face.
I stood backstage in the hotel ballroom, smoothing down the pale blue dress Carmela had found in the emergency wardrobe collection. It fit well enough, but wearing Queen Isabelle's borrowed clothes made me feel like a kid playing dress-up in her disapproving mother's closet.
"Your prepared remarks, Your Highness." Elena Marchetti, the palace's deputy communications director, handed me a folder with the air of someone handing over nuclear launch codes. "Remember, stick to the script. No improvisation."
"Got it. Script good, improvisation bad."
"I mean it, Your Highness. Queen Isabelle was very specific."
I opened the folder to review my speech one final time and found myself staring at a completely different document.
"This isn't right," I said, flipping through the pages. "This is about agricultural subsidies."
Elena frowned and looked over my shoulder. "That's impossible. I personally placed your healthcare speech in that folder two hours ago."
"Well, unless children's hospitals are now funded by crop rotation schedules, there's been a mix-up."
She grabbed the folder and rifled through it, her face going pale. "I don't understand. Where's the original?"
"That's an excellent question."
Elena spoke rapidly into her headset in Italian while I stood there holding a speech about farming regulations and export tariffs, my stomach sinking with the familiar feeling of things going catastrophically wrong.
"There's been some kind of system error," Elena said, returning with worry lines creasing her forehead. "The original speech has disappeared from our files entirely. We're checking backups now."
"How long until I go on?"
"Five minutes."
"Can we postpone?"
"Absolutely not. Half of European royalty is in that audience. We cannot delay a charity event because of technical difficulties."
Right. Because admitting to being human was worse than going out there unprepared.
"Do you remember the key points from your speech?" Elena asked, desperation creeping into her voice.
"Some of them. The hospital needs new cardiac surgery equipment. They treat ten thousand kids a year. Healthcare is important." I gestured vaguely. "General platitudes about children being the future."
"That's not enough for fifteen minutes."
"Then I'll have to improvise."
"Queen Isabelle specifically said—"
"Well, she isn't the one standing here with a speech about crop subsidies five minutes before showtime."
Elena looked like she wanted to argue, but there wasn't time. A stage manager appeared to shepherd me toward the wings, and suddenly I was standing behind a curtain listening to someone announce my name to a ballroom full of people expecting competence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, Her Royal Highness Princess Bettina of Valdoria."
The applause sounded polite but skeptical. Fair enough. I was skeptical too.
I walked out onto the stage, temporarily blinded by lights that made it impossible to see the audience clearly. Just shapes in the darkness, hundreds of them, waiting to judge the American barista who'd married their prince.
"Thank you." I gripped the podium to keep my hands steady. "It's an honor to be here today supporting such an important cause."
So far so good. Generic enough to work for literally any charity event.
"The Solmarian Children's Hospital represents the best of this country's values: caring for the most vulnerable members of our society with compassion and expertise."
True, if vague. I'd read about this in the library yesterday.
"I've spent the past day learning about the incredible work being done here, and I'm continually impressed by the dedication of your medical staff."
Also true. I had read about it. Extensively. While trying not to think about how I was probably going to embarrass myself at this exact event.
I glanced down at the agricultural speech, which was absolutely useless, and made a decision that I would probably regret.
"Which is why I'm so excited to announce that the royal family will be increasing our annual contribution to the hospital's cardiac surgery program by fifty percent."
The words were out before I could stop them. Fifty percent of what? I had no idea what the current contribution was. Did I have the authority to make that promise? Almost certainly not.
But the audience burst into enthusiastic applause, and I saw Elena in the wings, scribbling frantically on her tablet with the expression of someone calculating exactly how much money I'd just committed without authorization.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
"This increased funding will help the hospital acquire the new pediatric cardiac equipment they need to serve even more children throughout the island chain."
More applause. At least I'd gotten that detail right from my research.
"Because every child deserves access to the best possible medical care, regardless of where they live or what their family can afford."
I was definitely in political territory now. Queen Isabelle had specifically warned me to avoid policy statements. But the audience was nodding along, and some of the doctors in the front row looked genuinely moved.
"Healthcare shouldn't be a privilege reserved for the wealthy. It should be a right guaranteed to every citizen of this beautiful country."
Oh God. I'd just made a political statement about universal healthcare at a charity luncheon. In a country I'd been in for approximately forty-eight hours.
"Which is why I'm also pleased to announce that we'll be expanding the hospital's outreach programs to ensure that every child in the outer islands has access to regular checkups and preventive care."
Another promise I had no authority to make. Another program I'd just invented on the spot.
The applause was enthusiastic, but I could see movement in the audience now. People standing up. Heated discussions. Elena was making frantic cutting motions across her throat.
Time to wrap this disaster up.
"Thank you for your dedication to Solmaria's children. Together, we can build a healthier future for everyone."
I stepped away from the podium to mixed applause and animated discussion. Elena met me at the stage exit looking like she'd aged ten years in fifteen minutes.
"What was that?"
"Improvisation. You told me not to, and I did it anyway."
"You just committed millions of euros in healthcare spending without consulting anyone. You announced programs that don't exist and would require legislative approval to implement."
"On the bright side, everyone seemed to like the part about helping children?"
"That's not the point."
"I know." I took a breath, trying to steady myself. "Someone switched my speech, Elena. This wasn't incompetence. Someone set me up to fail."
She paused, something shifting in her expression. "You think it was intentional?"
"I think it's a hell of a coincidence that my first public appearance got sabotaged by a document mix-up that's never happened before in palace history."
We made it through the reception line somehow, with me shaking hands and accepting congratulations from people who seemed genuinely excited about the programs I'd accidentally invented.
Several doctors thanked me for understanding the challenges of treating children from remote islands.
A few politicians looked less pleased, probably because I'd just promised government resources without their input.
The worst part was that everything I'd said made sense. These programs should exist. The hospital should have better funding. Children shouldn't go without medical care because they lived on remote islands.
I just had no idea how to actually make any of it happen.
"Queen Isabelle would like to see you immediately upon your return to the palace," Elena said as we climbed into the car.
"Of course she would."