Chapter 11

MILA

After Felix left the room, everyone just looked at each other, still in a state of shock. Apparently, the royal temper tantrum thrown by Charles was something unusual. Even Felix had seemed rattled, and that had set everyone else on edge. I stared at the ground, wondering if I tried hard enough, I could disappear.

A castle maid rushed into the hall and whispered something in the ear of the Royal Chef, Mrs. Barker. She nodded and pointed at something on her notepad. I could see Fiona craning her neck in an attempt to spy on what the older woman had written down. Mrs. Barker cleared her throat, and we all snapped to attention.

“Right, um, thank you all for being here today,” she said. “We have selected our three courses and our chefs to serve in the next royal banquet.”

She listed off their starter and entrée selections–both from Samara’s team, which I knew would redeem her reputation after my mistakes–before naming my prickly pear lemon pie as their chosen dessert.

“And for our chefs, we will take them all from Samara’s Place.” Mrs. Barker checked her notes again. I didn’t bother crossing my fingers or anything. I knew I had made too much of a fool of myself to be selected.

“We would like André, Edward, Fiona, Michael, and Miya,” she announced. I felt my face flush at the news, and Mrs. Barker smiled at me warmly. Samara clapped.

Perhaps today had not been such a disaster after all.

“You will start preparing for tomorrow’s banquet early in the morning,” she continued.“You will be permitted to stay in the castle tonight to allow for your busy schedules. Please gather your belongings. At this time, we will show you to your rooms.”

Samara stepped forward to say, “Our restaurant will close tomorrow so that all hands may be available to help prepare for this banquet. It is our honor to be amongst the chosen.”

Mrs. Barker nodded her thanks at Samara. A few servants entered the hall to escort us to our rooms.

Then Mrs. Barker dropped the bombshell: “We will divide you by gender. The boys will share a room, and Fiona and Miya, you will be sharing as well.”

I most certainly did not want to share a room with Fiona. I tried to keep my head held high, even as I felt her shooting daggers at my back. After her stunt with the prickly pears and trying to throw me under the bus in front of Felix, I had to keep my guard up around her.

Isla, a castle maid, led the two of us to our rooms to put our things down. On our way to the servants’ quarters, we passed a beautifully carved ornate door. The wood was etched with fire-breathing dragons and knights in shining armor. I stared at it in wonder.

“Those are Prince Felix’s bedchambers,” Isla informed me, catching my curiosity.

His bedchambers? Maybe I could sneak in there tonight and return the stone. I tried to memorize the path to these doors, wondering if there were any guards I would have to sneak past.

“He rarely sleeps here, however,” Isla continued, oblivious to my planning. “He has an apartment in the city he spends most of his time at.”

I nodded. Fiona said nothing, choosing instead to keep up her staring contest with the floor.

This was going to be a long night.

“The Prince does not usually sleep here?” I asked as casually as I could as we continued on down the hallway.

“He finds palace life too restrictive,” Isla said breezily. “And to be clear, miss, this isn’t gossip. He would be the first to tell you that himself.”

He probably would have, if he had told me the truth about who he was when we first met. Still, even better if he didn’t sleep there. I had a chance to sneak in and plant the necklace there, and maybe he would just think he had dropped it accidentally on one of his visits to the castle.

A long shot, but a shot nonetheless.

Fiona and I dropped what scarce belongings we had brought into our shared room. It was cozy, with stone walls and fluffy beds. Tapestries adorned the walls. It would have been downright comfortable, maybe even luxurious, if not for my companion.

Another maid knocked and entered the room. This one introduced herself as Cassandra.

“Prince Felix requests your presence in the kitchen for afternoon tea,” she told us. “He would like you to make your prickly pear lemon pie. He had me go fetch some fresh prickly pear from the market for this very occasion.”

“He wants us both?” Fiona sounded eager–overly eager, perhaps.

“No.” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed at Fiona. “Just Miya.” My breath caught in my throat.

“Just me?”

FIONA

Just Miya?

This whole thing was getting out of hand. I had thought my trick of hiding the prickly pears would be just the thing to expose Miya as a fraud and a phony, but it had backfired. Somehow, despite all her mistakes, she was even more beloved by everyone she encountered.

I watched as Miya was led out of the room by the castle maid. The Prince just wanted her? After that humiliating escapade in the dining hall earlier? There had to be some mistake. Even the younger prince, Charles, seemed to think Miya did not belong in the castle. At least someone agreed with me.

Miya was some silly foreigner who was way out of her depth. There was no way she could have possibly wanted the royal family’s approval as much as I did.

For years, I had dreamed of leaving my stupid boss and opening my own restaurant. Samara was fine, I supposed, but she had no ambitions of franchising or expanding. She seemed content with her tiny little restaurant. Well, fine, let her be content. I was dreaming big over in my corner.

It was very difficult to open a restaurant in Fresonia–frequently, you needed to have royal support to get your start. Samara had gotten her restaurant with the backing of Queen Suni. And now this nobody from America was stealing my chance at royal approval? No way. I couldn’t allow that to happen.

I rushed out of the room and caught up to Miya and the maid.

“I can come too,” I breathlessly volunteered. “Miya has a horrible track record. She’s constantly making mistakes. She needs someone to supervise her to make sure she doesn’t mess up, and I can be that person!”

The maid just stared at me. What was her problem? She should be treating me with more respect. She was just a lowly castle maid and I was a sous chef at one of the top restaurants in the capital city.

“The Prince specifically asked for Miya, and for Miya to come alone,” the maid said. Was that pity in her voice? Ridiculous.

I spun on my heel and returned to our room. There had to be some way to stop Miya.

I could not let her win.