The Prince's Bride Part 2 - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,88

as a gloomy bother to everyone else. It wasn’t her fault. But it wasn’t my fault either.

Ring.

Checking my phone, I smiled. “How did you know I needed to hear your voice?”

“You were pulling on my heartstrings?”

“Cheesy.”

He laughed. “I knew you would say that. Where are you?”

“Where else could I be? Where are you, more importantly?”

“I just came back from visiting the new solar wind farms, and I’m now on the plane heading back.”

My heart sank to my gut, hearing he was on the plane. “I thought we weren’t supposed to use phones on flights.”

“Commercial flights. Is that concern I hear in your voice?”

“Yes!”

“Good, I like it. Distract me. What are you doing? No class?”

“I was given a speech to study.”

“A speech?”

“They didn’t tell you? Sophia and I will be giving the commencement speech at Royal University.”

“You and Sophia?”

“Yep.”

“Can you call in sick or something?”

I laughed, really, I did. “No, I don’t think that will work. Mr. Ambrose has already let me know that it is, and I quote, of the highest importance.”

“Everything is always of the highest importance,” Gale scoffed. “We have our first state dinner together at the end of the month, and I’ve already been told to begin to prepare now—”

“Wait, state dinner? We?”

“Oh, they haven’t told you.”

I hung my head. “Every time I clear one hurdle, there is a new one.”

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint, so I’ve been told.”

“Do they tell you when you have won the marathon?”

“Sadly not. I’ll let you know when I find out.”

Knock. Knock.

“Yes?” I turned around to see Wolfgang waiting.

“They’ve come for you?” Gale said.

“Yep.”

“Dinner after dinner?”

I smiled. We’d come to do that now. “The cherry gardens?”

“It is a date.”

“It’s a date.” I beamed. “Bye. Be safe.”

“You too.”

I waited for him to hang up, but he didn’t. “Gale.”

“Odette.”

“Hang up.”

“You hang up. Wait, we’ve done this before, also.” He laughed.

“You are ridiculous. Bye!”

“Bye.”

Shaking my head, I turned off the phone. “Forgive me, Wolfgang.” I trailed off when I turned back to see the expression on Wolfgang’s face.

He beamed with joy almost as much as I did.

“What is it?”

He shook his head. “I am just glad you and Prince Galahad are happy. It’s like Seattle, but here.”

I relaxed, inhaling deeply. “Thank you, Wolfgang.”

“Miss, are you ready?” He pulled out his...well, my schedule.

”Yes.” For the first time, I actually felt like I was.

I checked my watch for what felt like the hundredth time. I had thought after landing I’d go right back to the palace, but instead, I was taken to Trinity Row to have dinner at the behest of the prime minister because he had gotten word that tomorrow’s news headlines would be that he and I were at odds over the Nationalism Reform Act he wished to enact. He wanted to get ahead of it—even though it was the one headline that I didn’t mind the public reading. I was against the bill, and yet I had to work to stop that headline at short notice. Truthfully, no notice, despite already having plans.

“Please see that we keep this as brief as possible,” I said to Balduin, fixing my tie as we pulled up the prime minister’s residence, with a red door and a slew of reporters already across the street. Not likely by chance. “Very, very brief, Balduin.”

“Yes, sir,” Balduin said as Hermenegild stepped out with his wife, a typical Ersovian beauty with bright-blue eyes and long, brown hair.

Doing my best to put a pleasant expression on my face, I nodded once, and the door opened for me.

“Prince Galahad!”

“Prince Galahad, where is Odette?”

“Adelaar over here, sir! How do you feel about the bill?”

“If there is a tie, which will you chose—the people or the alliance?

Ignoring the press, I focused on the man before me. “Prime Minister. Mrs. Hermenegild.”

“Your Highness, we thank you for making the time.” The prime minister nodded as his wife curtsied. I moved to step forward, but he lifted his arm, ushering me to turn so we could take a photo together. I bit the inside of my cheek but turned, looking at the press, waving like a good puppet until we were finally free to go.

“His Highness only has few minutes to spare, Mr. Prime Minister—”

“Oh, hello.” Hermenegild jumped back, startled by Balduin, and looked at his wife. “Sorry, sir, I did not see you down there.”

This son of a bloody whore.

“Have you ever thought of glasses then, Mr. Prime Minister? I’m small but not so small that you shouldn’t be able to see me. I did not

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