He wore a long, woolen anorak and a broadbrim hat over sleek, white hair. But it was his eyes that arrested Taffron. The way they moved, searched, and saw, as if straight into his soul.
“It’s been a long time,” Emmanuel said.
“Indeed. Forty years.” Taffron raised the lights, unsure if he should treat the man like a lord or a bloke he’d met down at the pub. He was both sorts. One and the same. “Please, have a seat.”
But he remained standing, so Taffron did as well. “I’ve a final task for you,” he said.
“For me?” Taffron schooled his features, tossing the statement off with a quick laugh. “Surely not a royal gown or a fancy frock. I am old, sir. Out of touch. My fingers are bent. My hands shake.”
“I’m confident you are equipped for the task. But you do not have to accept.” Emmanuel reached back for the door. “I assure you it is a worthy endeavor.”
“What am I creating?”
“Another gown.”
“Another gown? For whom?”
“Another young woman who needs to know she’s a princess.”
“A princess. Emmanuel, you’re old so you may not know but Princess Louisa’s daughter is already married. And Princess Lore is too young. There are no more princesses to be married. Not in Lauchtenland anyway.”
“Taffron, this particular lass needs to feel like a princess. To believe who she is on the inside whether she bears a title or not. Do you accept?”
“Won’t you tell me who?”
Emmanuel glanced out the window and for a moment, Taffron thought he heard him mumbling. Then he reached for the nearest chair.
“Actually, there are two young women, Taffron. One born a princess and one who will become a princess. But you must keep this between us. Only we can know.”
“Tell me more, m’lord.” Taffron sank into the squeaky rocker by the window. The light was perfect no matter what time of day for doing delicate work. “What will you have me to do?”
“With the royal wedding ball two months away, we have to ask, where is Prince Gus?”
–Tweet from @newsleader
“Prince Gus made his great escape. Will he have the courage to return? Tweet your thoughts. We’ll read them tomorrow on the show.” #maddyandhyliveshow #princegus
–Brighton Kingdom’s Madeline and Hyacinth Live!
“He may be a prince but I think he’s the king of the broken hearts.”
–Stone Brubaker, the Morning Show
On Prince Augustus
Chapter One
Daffy
February, Present Day
Floridana Beach, FL
This was the life. A girl on holiday with her mates. Surely something memorable was bound to happen.
Standing on the water’s edge, Daffy washed her weary soul with the low rumble of the waves, raised her face to the sun, and pretended she was more than an ordinary girl.
Time away was so needed. After graduating with her master’s degree, she jumped straight into work, striving to prove herself with barely a moment to breathe.
Two years in she needed a break. Then while online Christmas shopping she stumbled across the sweet blue cottage on the American coast and booked a week in February without even checking her diary. Then she coaxed her little sister along with her best friend, Leslie Ann, to join in the fun.
The three had arrived on the central Florida private beach around midnight and slept until the sun filled their rented beachfront cottage with glorious light. The sights, sounds, and sun filled her with expectation. This week was going to be amazing. She just knew it.
“I think I’ll emmigrate to America,” she said.
“Surely not.” Little sister Ella splashed through the winter-chilled waves. While the sun was warm, the breeze still nipped with a southern chill. “Why would you?”
“Why not? I always said I wanted to live abroad.”
“You never.” Ella paused beside Daffy as she tied her rich dark hair into a floppy topknot.
“You wanted to marry the prince and rule Lauchtenland. Besides, you joined the Royal Trust to work for Mum. She’d be put out if you left.”
“Dream killer.” Nevertheless, Ella was right. Well, partially right. Daffy couldn’t leave the Royal Trust after Mum went out on a limb to secure her position. Not very far out on the limb, but far enough. “But I do love my job.”
With her master’s degree in restorative arts, she wanted nothing more than to knock around historic artifacts, furniture, clothing, paintings, photographs and literature. The House of Blue had acquired such things for the last, oh, five hundred years. Longer, if the Hadsby Castle fire in 1595 hadn’t destroyed nearly everything the royal family owned.
But the chair had been saved. The King Titus. Constructed by Lauchtenland’s first king after the Norman conquest. It had been the royal throne for almost a century before King Louis II replaced it in 1881.
“What are we talking about?” Leslie Ann Parker, stunning, talented—and the latest sensation of Lauchtenland’s national Morning Show, reporting on all things royal—arrived at the waves.
“Daffy wants to immigrate to America,” Ella said.
“Surely not.” Leslie Ann dismissed the idea with a flick of her hand.
“That’s what I said.” Ella slapped Leslie Ann a high five then bent to inspect a rather large conch shell.
“Thanks, you two. Your vote of confidence in me is touching.”
Why couldn’t she move to America? She was educated and confident—well, most of the time. Surely American museums and historic societies needed curators. Lately corporations had been hiring curators to acquire fine art. Others to build a museum of the company’s history. Daffy would love such an opportunity.
“When did you ever want to live in America?” Leslie Ann repeated Ella’s question. “I’ve known you since A-levels and never once did you express a desire to live abroad. Darling, don’t you remember the time it took a month of talking to get you off on a London weekend?”
“Maybe I said it more to myself than out loud. Look, we’re standing on a Florida beach, aren’t we? This whole holiday was my idea. And the weekend to London was during final exams. Of course I didn’t want to go.” Daffy kicked at a small foaming wave as if to make her point.
“She also never said out loud that she wants to marry a prince. But she does.” Ella was simply on a wild, fantastical roll this morning.
“Wanted to marry a prince,” Daffy said. “Past tense. Present tense makes me sound like a silly little girl.” Which was the purpose of sisters, no? “And if I never said it out loud, how do you know?”
“Fine. Not wants but wanted.” Ella ran the shell up to their beach chairs and returned with more on the prince topic. “I suppose I can tell you now. When I was little, I used to sneak into your room and read your diary.”
“You read my diary?” Daffy laughed, then sobered. “Please say you’re joking.”
“Yeah, the one titled My Life with the Prince by Daffodil Caron. I thought it was fiction at first. You went on and on about this beautiful, sweet girl who married a prince. It couldn’t have been you.” Daffy splashed her laughing sister. “But in the end, you started writing your names. Daffy and Gus. You wanted to marry Prince Gus.”