The Prince’s Bride – Part 2 (The Prince’s Bride #2) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Prince's Bride Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
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“Would you like to see some of the international coverage, sir?” Balduin asked, finally getting the tablet to work.

Taking it, the news with a picture of Odette at the graduation was already on the screen.

“Her Ersovian was a bit shaky and stiff. It was clear she was nervous in the beginning, and I am sure the palace is not pleased with her going off-script. However, it is safe to say Odette Wyntor truly had a profound impact—”

I switched the channel.

“The air was electrified today at Royal University, and Odette Wyntor drew not only the students, faculty, and staff to their feet but even people on the street as people take to social media—”

“It is normal for royals to steal the spotlight at whatever event they go to, but today, Odette did not just steal the spotlight, she became it, raising everyone to roaring applause—”

“Not even five minutes later and the hashtag #UnitedWeAre! is currently trending on social media—”

“She did not fall and embarrass herself. It was a decent speech, but that was low—”

Rolling my eyes, I switched again. If even the most critical station could call her speech decent, then it was fucking phenomenal.

Turning off the news, I leaned back into my seat. Looking out at the city, I watched as others watched the coverage and the repeats, either on their phones or restaurant screens. I couldn’t help but grin. Finally. Finally!

This was the Ersovia I knew.

Chapter 24

As we left the ceremony and walked back toward the residential side of the palace, everyone was more relaxed. So, I noticed more about the palace—one was the amount of security on this side. Then the smell of vanilla, which I liked, coming from the new plants. Also, the changing of a few portraits that had been switched out since I had first come. All of the simple changes and sights helped calm me down, which I needed to do to prepare myself for the lecture I was about to get. It was going to be a heavy one. I knew it. I could sense I was going to get called, and without fail, when I entered the grand foyer of the palace, Mr. Ambrose was waiting for me. The look on his face, like always, was neutral, but for some reason, I could feel that he was not pleased with me. In fact, I did not think he’d changed since I had arrived.

“The queen would like to see me for tea?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied sternly.

I exhaled deeply. “I figured as much.”

“Odette,” Sophia called out before I could step forward, and I turned to her. She stared at me with the same dead eyes. “You trampled on the hard work of everyone who helped to prepare you for today. Speaking off the cuff may seem nice in America, but you do not just represent yourself. You represent the monarchy, the crown. In the future, please be more mindful—for all our sakes. The queen cannot keep stopping to have with tea with you.”

Mr. Ambrose nodded as if she had said all he was holding back from saying.

I bit my lip and nodded and curtsied. I was reaching my limit with her. She turned to leave just like that.

“Miss,” Mr. Ambrose said, ushering me along.

Walking up the stairs behind him, I tried to think of a better answer, a better explanation to have for the queen. But I didn’t know what to say. At that moment, I had been so nervous that I couldn’t just read the speech as it was. I had planned just to say I was nervous before reading the speech, but then I just kept going and going.

“Here we are.”

I straightened my dress before walking into the room. I didn’t even bother lifting my head before curtsying to her. “Your Grace, forgive me for—”

“Odette, good, you’re here. Come and look at these sketches with me.”

Rising and lifting my head to look up, I was shocked to find her sitting surrounded by a stack of sketchbooks and charts. Stepping forward, I came to where she was standing to see what exactly she was looking at, only to find that the sketchbooks were of dresses—wedding dresses. She lifted a sketch and turned to me, holding it just under my neck. “I like lace, but I am not sure if lace is still in style. But it does do well for a winter wedding. What do you think?”

I couldn’t think. I just stared at her, mouth agape.

“Odette, it is unbecoming for a royal to gawk.”

“Sorry. I mean, forgive me. I mean—a wedding?” I repeated, not sure I heard correctly.

“Not a wedding, your wedding,” she clarified.

“Aren’t you going to lecture me?” I asked.

“What for?” she asked, lifting another sketch.

“For not sticking to what I was told to read. For trampling on the hard work of everyone who helped me prepare—”


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