ask for my identification now. I’m a princess-to-be.
Or that’s what everyone thinks, at least.
As I climb the stairs in my extravagant dress, I feel a few beads of sweat break out across my forehead. This dress may look like a fairytale, but it is hot and heavy.
As I come to the last stair, I see Lars waiting rather impatiently for me. He looks so dashing in his tuxedo that it actually takes my breath away.
He turns his head and spots me. A huge smile appears on his face. He walks towards me, his eyes taking me in. “Fuck, Pips. You look…” He shakes his head, biting his lip.
I flush a little. “Like the topper for a wedding cake, maybe?”
He offers me his arm, arching a brow. “I was going to say hot, but that’s not quite it. Maybe… beautiful? Radiant?”
My neck heats. “Thanks. I'm glad that you find this dress acceptable. I think you’re hot too, obviously.”
He nods toward the ballroom. “Ready?”
I nod. “Why would I not be eager to enter a ballroom full of people that I plan on deceiving? Let's go.”
He walks me in, a smirk on his face. I can hear the murmur of the crowd from here. When we step through the double doors, everyone immediately turns and ceases their conversations. All eyes are on us.
I can't help but swallow nervously. Lars is great and all, but at this exact moment I'm wishing that I had never agreed to his little plan.
“Lars!” His grandmother says. “I thought perhaps you two were not coming. After all, it is quite late…”
Lars rolls his eyes. “We’re here, Momse.”
His grandmother rushes up to us, taking our elbows and wedging herself in between us. She beams out at the crowd, which is relatively packed. “Every dignitary in Denmark is here right now, every military general and every polished socialite.”
They are all looking at us, judging for themselves how Lars and I fit together.
I hate it.
Lars’s grandmother clears her throat. “It is my pleasure to announce that Lars and Pippa have set a date for their wedding. It will be held in June, at the Royal Palace. Isn't that wonderful?”
I blink rapidly, my gaze going straight to Lars. His expression is questioning too.
Not only did we not set that date, it's actually the first time I've ever even heard it and mentioned at all. Everyone in the audience applauds politely as Lars and I shower the room in our confused smiles.
Momse moves forward, glancing at both of us. She doesn’t seem worried that she just announced a random date that we are supposed to get married on. “I'm so happy for both of you. Come, I have some people for you to meet.”
Behind me, Lars finds my hand and gives it a squeeze.
For the next hour, I plaster on my smile and murmur thank you in response to everyone's well wishes. At one point, Lars is so antsy and he's ready to leave Momse's company that he keeps sighing. I look at him, my eyes begging him to take me with him. So he does the unthinkable: he just tells Momse flat out that we want to mingle alone.
“Pippa and I are going to take a turn around the room by ourselves, Momse. I'm sure you have a lot of people to talk to. Don't let us get in the way of that.” He grabs my elbow, pulling me close.
Her eyes narrow. “Surely you can allow me this one night to celebrate you both.”
He smiles lightly. “You got your hour on the arm of the new Prince and Princess. You've declared a wedding date. I think you've done enough.”
Momse's eyes open quite wide. “I don't appreciate how you're talking to me right now, Lars.”
He removes her hand from his arm, shaking off her grip. “Ja, I'm not Stellan. I'm not interested in politics or in whatever weird power play you're trying to pull right now. So Pippa and I are going to go over there and talk to our friends. And when we are tired, we're gonna leave. So…” He shrugs. “There you go.”
With that, he takes my arm and pulls me away toward Stellan and Margot. I glance at him, my eyes wide. “What was that?”
He rolls his eyes. “Momse has some idea that we are going to dance to her feet now that we are supposedly engaged. It's better for both of us if we just don't let her boss us around, not even a little. Because if she is