Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“That’s right,” Lavinia snarls. “We need everything to go perfectly for the next two weeks, so you better not do anything to muck it up.”
“Yes, your responsibilities here are what’s important,” Narcissa echoes. “There isn’t any time to be sitting around on your arse, do you understand?”
“Of course.” The hope I’d dared to have dies swiftly.
In all honesty, I couldn’t care less about attending a royal ball. But if I could just speak with the British Prince for a few moments, I’m convinced I could get him on board with helping the sanctuary.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Narcissa shoos me away. “Go fix dinner. And then get to your chores. We have a lot of planning to do.”
For the rest of the evening, my stepsisters concoct a detailed plan of attack on every royal bachelor they deem worthy. There are notebooks and newspaper clippings and photographs spread across the kitchen table as they dissect every potential weakness for the singletons they aim to snag.
“No, not him,” Magnolia whines as I clear away the last of the dishes. “He looks too cross. But his brother Calder, on the other hand—”
“They’re twins.” Lavinia rolls her eyes. “They look the same, apart from the hair. And it doesn’t matter if Thorsen is too cross. He’s the heir apparent, which means he’s rich, and he’s going to be king someday.”
“Good thinking,” Narcissa praises her. “We can’t rule anyone out just because they might not have a sunny disposition.”
I disappear into the kitchen and scrub the dishes and floors before retiring to the attic. When my father died, Narcissa exiled me to the small space with nothing more than a bed and a solitary window to call my own. It might be a little drafty and dark up here, but I don’t mind. This is the only place in the whole manor that still reminds me of my father, and there are even a few boxes of his belongings she hasn’t managed to get rid of yet. Everything else was sold before she redecorated the place with gaudy furniture and horrible wallpaper.
When I collapse onto the bed, I’m exhausted, but my guilt won’t let me rest. I promised Olivia I’d give her the money from my sewing projects this week, and now I have to break that promise. That money was supposed to go toward food or vet bills, but instead, it will probably go straight into a Botox injection for Narcissa’s face.
Reaching for the notepad on the bedside table, I consider writing another letter to the prince’s secretary. During my research some time ago, I’d discovered that I could nominate a charity for the royal family to review. But first, it has to go through the secretary, and the secretary will only pass it on if they believe it to be something of interest. I’ve been trying for months, but so far, it’s gotten me nowhere. While I’ve submitted to several members of the royal family, I believe Prince Aston is my best bet. He seems to be more approachable, and I noticed he’s already working with several other animal charities.
My pillow vibrates, and I peek at the door to make sure I’m in the clear before I retrieve the phone Charlotte gave me. My best friend since primary school, Charlotte comes from a well-to-do family. She has a weekly allowance from her parents and a brand-new car, and she insisted that I had to have a mobile phone at the very least. I accepted it reluctantly, but Narcissa can never know I have it.
When I check the notifications, I find two texts from Charlotte, both asking me to video chat her when I’m not busy. Pulling up the app we use to communicate, I click on her name. After two rings, her face pops into view, her blue eyes wild with excitement.
“Oh my God, Ella!” she squeals. “I have the biggest news ever. You aren’t going to believe it!”
“Bigger than your engagement last week?” I arch a brow at her. “That seems unlikely.”
“Even bigger than that.” She nods eagerly. “Did you hear about the royal ball?”
“All night long.” I roll my eyes. “Narcissa and the girls are planning their attack as we speak.”
“Okay, well, forget them for a second and picture this.” She waves the phone around as she speaks, making me dizzy. “You’re in a beautiful ballgown at the royal palace, chatting up Prince Aston himself.”
“Are you high? Did you get into your father’s edibles again?”
“No, I’m not high.” Her eyes sparkle with laughter. “Ella, this is real. I wouldn’t even tease you like that.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask reluctantly.
“I got an invitation to the masked charity ball!” she sings. “And as much as I’d love to go, Oliver and I have plans that night.”
“So, you think I’m going to go?” I stare at her as though she’s lost her mind. Forget the edibles. I think she’s on an acid trip.