The Royal Treatment

Page 19

 

  Has overtaken you two

  I'm telling my dad. "

  "Alex, you're so odd," Christina sighed. "Shouldn't you be in a private screening of Star Wars or something?"

  "I was on my way

  I heard sounds of a struggle

  The Dark Side had you. "

  She giggled in spite of herself. David, however, remained a stone. "Christina fell," he improvised. "I just came out to help her. "

  Edmund held up her shirt. "Quite a fall, since her shirt was on the chair inside. "

  "It was like—a whirlwind?" she guessed.

  Alex snickered as Edmund went on implacably, like a majordomo Terminator. "Do tell. There is a slice of bread on the ceiling. "

  "I was saving it for later?"

  David collapsed in laughter, actually rolling around the grass. She kicked him, then stood up, climbed the balcony, retrieved her shirt from a glacial Edmund, ignored Alex's leer, and set about cleaning up the room.

  Chapter 19

  Christina sailed into Dr. Pohl's office, tossed her coat toward the coatrack (she missed, and it landed on the floor), then flopped onto the couch with a satisfying smack. She laced her fingers behind her head, stared at the ceiling, and said, "Ah, I can feel the sweet embrace of sanity already. "

  "Well, well, if it isn't the tattooed lady. "

  "Oh, that's nice," she said, then laughed. "It's impossible to keep a secret in that place, you know. "

  "You're in a good mood," Dr. Pohl observed. "Also, you're late. "

  "Hey, a princess-in-waiting has stuff to do, Doc. Don't take it personal. And why shouldn't I be in a good mood? Spring's here—"

  "And with it, your wedding. "

  "—the grass has riz, I wonder where the flowers is? And all that. Also, did I tell you? Met a friend in Boston and David invited him to visit! We've been having gobs of fun. "

  "Have you decided on a ring yet, 'midst the gobs of fun?"

  "You're such a buzz kill," Christina muttered. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the couch. "Look, it's not as easy as all that. "

  "Really?" Dr. Pohl said, prominently displaying her own engagement and wedding rings.

  "Get those rocks away from me. First of all, I had to nicely refuse Queen Dara's jewelry without hurting anybody's feelings, which was so not a walk in the park, believe me. "

  "They offered you the queen's wedding jewels?"

  "She had, like, buckets of the stuff. Ropes of pearls. Piles of diamonds. So that was a mess, you know?"

  "You had to call on all your powers of tact. "

  "Damn straight. "

  "Powers so secret and well hidden, most of us assumed they didn't exist. "

  "I hate you. Look, the idea of wearing a dead lady's—a dead queen's—jewelry creeps me out, okay? Tell the truth, wouldn't you feel a little funny wearing a dead monarch's rings?"

  "I never thought about it," Dr. Pohl admitted.

  "Well, think about it and get back to me. Anyway. So, we put that issue to bed, finally. But all the rings the jewelers have been bringing to the palace, they've just been—I dunno—"

  "Not suitable?"

  "Completely very much not suitable. Half of them, you need a crane to get 'em on your finger! Come on—who needs an eight-carat diamond? I could never put on another pair of pantyhose, not as long as I lived. And I'm a cook—anybody keep that in mind?" she griped. "A big-ass ring is just gonna get in my way. D'you know how hard it is to get butter out of jewelry settings?"