To Kiss a King - NIcole Burnham Page 0,5
spoke with the driver, he nodded to another guard. The gates opened, allowing them to enter the palace grounds. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as they skirted the edge of a large garden, then circled to the palace’s rear entrance.
As the driver opened the door for them, a lean woman with light brown, shoulder-length hair approached from the wide stone staircase. Her chic beige dress and the confidence with which she walked would have identified her as being a member of the royal family, even if her familiar face didn’t.
"Madam Ambassador," the young woman greeted Claire in clear, American English that hearkened to her upbringing outside Washington, D.C. She smiled first at Claire, then at Karen. “I’m Amanda diTalora. It’s a pleasure to welcome you to San Rimini. My husband, Prince Marco, looks forward to meeting you when you present your credentials to King Eduardo tonight."
“I look forward to meeting Prince Marco, as well.” She gestured to her right. “This is Karen Hutchinson, my personal assistant.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hutchinson. If you’ll accompany me, I’d consider it an honor to give you a quick tour of the palace’s public areas before dinner begins.”
Claire thanked Amanda, and as she lifted the hem of her long silk skirt to clear the stone steps, she added, “I hope I’m not keeping you from getting ready for dinner. I was told the attire is formal.”
“It is, but I can change quite quickly.” She gestured toward a group of palace employees gathered nearby and said, “The palace has a large staff who basically run my life so I don’t have to. My gown and shoes are being laid out for me as we speak. All I have to do is put my arms and legs in the proper spots.”
Amanda dropped her voice so only Claire and Karen could hear. “It takes some getting used to. I worked with children of dignitaries before I married Prince Marco, so even though I spent a great deal of time around wealth, I lived in a tiny studio apartment near Dupont Circle and barely had two dimes to rub together. I considered ramen noodles and tomato soup to be major food groups.”
Claire shot Amanda an understanding smile. “You can’t imagine how familiar that sounds. When I was in college in New Mexico, word spread like lightning whenever the local grocery had a sale on ramen. I lived on the stuff—well, that and cans of tuna. I hate to think how much sodium I consumed. By the time I moved to Georgetown for graduate school, I was so sick of ramen that I agreed to move into a three-bedroom apartment with five other people. I chose food over privacy.”
“Ouch. Georgetown is wonderful, but it’s a challenge living there on a student budget.”
Amanda took her time guiding Claire and Karen through La Rocca’s first floor, stopping to point out each of the historically important rooms and showing the best way to the king’s official office, since Claire would likely visit during her tenure. Her manner made Claire instantly comfortable. She suspected that Amanda’s easy ability to connect with others explained why she’d become popular with the people of San Rimini, despite being an American.
As they circled back toward the Imperial Ballroom, where the dinner and reception would soon begin, a man wearing a tailored black suit and understated gray tie approached and asked for a moment with Claire to discuss business.
Amanda nodded, then checked her watch and acknowledged that it was time for her to prepare for dinner. To Claire, she explained, “Sergio Ribisi is King Eduardo’s top political advisor. I’ll allow him to introduce himself, then he’ll cover the program for the evening and escort you to the ballroom. I will see you there shortly.”
Claire thanked Amanda for taking the time to show her around the palace. Sergio Ribisi shook both Claire and Karen’s hands as they made their introductions. To Claire, he said, “It’s my pleasure to welcome you to San Rimini, Madam Ambassador. I expect we will continue the strong relationship Ambassador Cartwright worked to build between our two countries. He was quite popular both here and in parliament. He spoke highly of you.”
She thanked him for the compliment while Karen took the opportunity to walk to a window a discreet distance down the hall, taking in the view of the garden so Claire could speak to the king’s advisor in private.
“How may I help you, Signore Ribisi?”
“Please, call me Sergio.”
“Sergio, then. You said you wished