Heart of the Guardians: Adoring Destiny by Adrianna Adore (best big ereader .TXT) 📗

Their night on the town clothes fit perfectly, were easy to move in and were velvety soft. They were comfortable and would hide smudges or dirt if they happened to sit on a barstool or bench that wasn’t exactly clean. Maurice hummed and hawed, pinched and pulled but was satisfied with his work.

“Off with them, time is wasting, how long do we have, Mrs. Schwartz?”

“Twenty-one minutes with no running,” she said. “Twenty-four if they do.”

“There will be no running.” Maurice said as he directed his assistants.

“I must apologize for the poor quality and workmanship of your gowns,” he said as he adjusted pleats and straps. “I simply did not have time to create them, these were modified from what I already had in the shop.”

“They’re beautiful.” Claire said as she looked at herself in a full-length mirror that had been wheeled in. “They’re gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”

“You are too kind, Mademoiselle,” he said, brushing off her praise but she saw him smile. “You are simply ravishing and your beauty is what makes the dress barely tolerable.”

“Eleven minutes.” Mrs. Schwartz announced.

“Makeup!” Maurice barked and the two women ran forward, brushes already in their hands.

They stood in the foyer of their apartment as final tweaks and adjustments were done to their dresses and hair. Neither had ever looked as glamourous. The closest had been their senior prom where they’d spent weeks preparing. Only a few hours ago they had been in jeans, hair pulled back in ponytails and sweaty from the hike to the lake. They had been tourists hoping to get in a day of sight-seeing before catching a train back to Paris and a flight home. Now they were wearing the finest clothes they had ever worn, finery befitting royalty, not college students. They were about to attend the most lavish ball in Europe, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in a decade. Many of the heads of State or their emissaries from all over the world would be in attendance.

“Now,” Mrs. Schwartz commanded with a glance at her watch. “You must leave now.”

The door opened as if by magic and a man in a tuxedo bowed slightly then said “If you ladies will follow me, I will be your escort.”

Dana took her hand and squeezed as they walked through the winding corridors.

“I think I have to pee,” Claire whispered and they both started giggling as they stepped into the hallway before the grand ballroom.

They could hear the buzz of many conversations through the closed double doors and standing near them, James and Frank were talking quietly. They looked up when the girls walked in and both stared wide eyed as they approached.

“You really know how to wine and dine a girl,” Dana told Frank and curtsied to him.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he said with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “And we’re sorry for such short notice. If we hadn’t shanghaied you into it, you might have had time think of excuses not to come.”

“We were dateless and desperate,” James added, trying to look contrite in his black tuxedo. “I hope you can forgive us.”

“Maybe.” Dana said and did a little twirl for them. “It’ll depend on how well you can dance.”

“Stunning.” James said when Claire turned to show off the black and dark green dress that matched her eyes, the pendant and the inlay on the hair sticks. “Simply stunning.”

Claire took his proffered arm and stood beside him as trumpets sounded and their arrival was announced.

“You’ll be fine,” he said as she fidgeted and calmed her breathing as they waited for the doors to open and a thousand eyes turn on them.

“Once we get to the bottom of the steps, we’ll be engulfed in people wanting to express well wishes and say hello,” he whispered as the royal guards opened the ornate doors. “There will be a whole lot of hand shaking but dinner will be served in a half hour. We only have to survive until then.”

11

A Night on the Town

Dana and Frank were able to disappear into the crowd but Claire and James were the center of attention with an unending flow of dignitaries and emissaries wishing him well and offering short condolences, mostly commenting on what a great friend and leader King Karsten had been. It was a festive occasion, not to be marred by sadness, and the gathered leaders were decked out in their finest. Some were in official uniforms representing their countries with medals and sashes and even a few ornamental swords. She watched in fascination as James, her James, the somewhat shy college professor, greeted them all like old friends, knew their names and asked after grandchildren or commended them on recent accomplishments. He included her in the brief conversations as they made small talk and she thought she was handling it well. There were no pointed questions about who she was although she was sure many of them were wondering as they tried to place her accent.

She was dreading dinner but it wasn’t as formal as the occasion seemed to call for. She’d expected five different forks and spoons and had planned on watching others to make sure she chose the right one for the right dish. She’d envisioned an elevated table ornately set with fine linen and silver candlesticks. She thought there would be five courses and dessert served by uniformed servants and she was worried about all eyes watching her to make some sort of Galadorian faux pas. She was relieved when dinner was announced, the doors to the banquet room were opened and a row of food was in the center of the room with a stack of plates and cutlery at one end. It was a buffet. It was like going to the Golden Corral or the Chinese all you can eat restaurant but fancier. She relaxed when she saw it and James grinned.

“I told you it wouldn’t be too hateful,” he said and