Free The Royal Treatment by MaryJanice Davidson

princess of the realm really should be married in white—”
    The king snorted and woke up. “Eh? What’s up now?”
    “The lady Christina wants to get married in blue,” Horrance tattled.
    King Alexander blinked. “Um…I dunno, kid, that’s kind of…different…even for us…”
    The protocol officer stepped in. “Actually, Majesty, the tradition of wearing white wedding gowns was started in England. By Queen Victoria.”
    “And everybody jumped on the bandwagon. The English bandwagon,” Christina added.
    “Well, screw that!” the king said loudly. “Alaskans do things their own way, dammit. The kid wants blue, it’s blue. Let the House of Windsor chew on that.”
    “Thanks, Al.” Thank you! she mouthed to the protocol officer, who smiled graciously.
    “It’s nice,” David said, looking at the sketch. “It’ll bring out your blue eyes.”
    “Her eyes are green,” Jenny protested.
    “You guys, focus, please? And my eyes are hazel—blue-green. Besides, I’ve already given up forty-five minutes of my life I’ll never get back. What’s next?”
    “Well, the shoes should be—”
    “Forget it. I’ll pick out a pair of nice flats the next time I’m at Payless.”
    “I beg your pardon—you certainly will not,” Edmund said.
    “Watch me. Next!”
    “Bridemaids’ gowns?” David asked, scooching a little closer to Christina, the better to help her fend off Edmund’s strangling hands.
    “Oh. Was I going to have some of those?”
    “Er…what?”
    “Christina moved around a lot as a kid,” David explained. “She doesn’t have a lot of close friends.”
    “We were thinking the princesses,” Edmund said.
    “Which is fine,” Christina said, turning to David, “but does your sister talk?”
    “Kathryn, you mean?”
    “She hasn’t said two words to me the whole time I’ve been here, but she keeps throwing stuff at me!”
    “She likes you.”
    “So,” Edmund said loudly, “the princesses.”
    “And Jenny,” Christina added.
    Jenny’s mouth popped open. “Oh, my lady, I couldn’t! It wouldn’t be appropriate, it—”
    “No, I want you to, Jenny. You’re going to work like a dog on this—why shouldn’t you get some of the glory?” Besides, the woman had really saved her bacon, stepping in with that tidbit about Queen Victoria. Talk about a true (if brand new) friend!
    “Well, I—I would be honored, my lady.” Jenny was flushing to the roots with pleasure. “Really, I—my mother will be so pleased.”
    “Okay. You can tell Mom later. So, bridesmaids—Princess Kathryn, Princess Alexandria, Jenny. Are there any—um—does your mom—I mean, the late queen—anybody in her family that you might like—”
    “No,” David said firmly.
    Long silence.
    “Okay!” Christina said brightly. “Bridesmaids’ gowns, right? Right. Whatcha got, Horrance? Come on, don’t be scared. You can do it.”
    “Well…”
    “Nope. It’s those high necklines again…yech. And the color! They look like they’re wearing steel.”
    “It’s gray, miss. The new black.”
    “Black is the new black, Horrance. Um…this is close,” she said, tapping a picture. “But too sparkly. And that looks like heavy material…it’ll be June, not January. No bridesmaids passing out at the altar, please.”
    “No ballerinas, either.”
    “Or waiters.”
    “No.”
    “Sorry.”
    “She looks like a bell. A pretty bell, but a bell. No.”
    “Perfect.”
    “Perhaps if we—what?”
    “That one,” she said, stabbing a finger at a midnight-blue, square-necked sheath gown. “It’s gorgeous—they can wear it again, and it’ll look good on everybody because all three of my bridesmaids could stand a few milkshakes, get what I mean? Anyway, that one.”
    “What do you think of the hat, my lady?”
    “No hats. She looks like she’s going to start tap dancing any minute.”
    “Very well,” Horrance said, making notes with a now-shaking hand, “no hats for the maids.”
    “No hats,