by Carey Corp
Fiona paled. “You’re throwing me a ball for the second night?”
“Yep.” Before I could ask, Vee explained, “It’s tradition to have two wedding receptions. One after the ceremony and one the following day. Usually the second night reception is informal, but I recently learned that when royalty gets married in Doon, the second night is traditionally a ball held at the palace. So I was thinking that would be a nice tradition to start for all marriages in the kingdom. And . . . I think Emily and Analisa are the ones to organize it.”
Vee tilted her head ever-so-slightly as her eyes widened, meaning planning the second-night ball was a great way to get them out of the way while the Scooby gang focused on how to save Doon.
“I agree.” I smiled at the two newcomers. “They’re perfect for the job.”
It was a fabulous idea. A ball would be an excellent distraction for the whole kingdom. Plus, it would centralize the Doonians in one central and safe place, far away from the zombie fungus. Leave it to my bestie to face down the latest Doon apocalypse in style — any excuse for a party.
CHAPTER 12
Mackenna
This party was a terrible idea!
Vee tugged at my hair, wrapping the medieval curling iron around a misbehaving strand. The sitting area of my rooms resembled the aftermath of a strip mall leveled by a tornado. Clothes and open-toed shoes were strewn across the couch. Cosmetics littered the table. But no matter how I tried to pretend Vee and I were getting ready for Winter Formal, little touches of Doonian culture reminded me that we weren’t in Kansas anymore.
On the eve before their Sabbath, the kingdom gathered at the castle for a feast and dancing. This would be Duncan’s and my first outing as a fake couple. Since he’d left for the borders shortly after our little powwow, we hadn’t had a chance to work out our characters yet. I prayed he would get back in plenty of time to rehearse.
Riding my wavelength, Vee said, “Jamie and Duncan are going to be late.”
“How do you know? Did they send a carrier pigeon or something?”
She rolled her eyes at me. “They sent a messenger.”
“So that’s how they texted in the Dark Ages. Nice.”
“We’re not in the Dark Ages. There. All finished.” She fluffed my hair. And then handed me a silver hand mirror.
Under Vee’s expert care, my waves looked more like the Little Mermaid than Ronald McDonald. The temptation to belt out “Part of Your World” lodged in my gut. But I couldn’t afford to want to be part of this world, at least not now.
Afraid Vee would read my thoughts, I said, “You look gorgeous!”
Despite Vee’s fashion-forward influence, she’d insisted we dress more traditionally for the weekly dinner-dance. We both wore peasant blouses, calf-length skirts, and cute laceup vests — emerald green for me and lavender for Vee. But my bestie also had a tiara adorning her dark curls and the Doonian plaid draped across her torso like a sash. “You’re like a Scottish prom queen.”
A shadow flickered across her eyes. “Kenna, this is the second time you’ve referred to me like I’m playing dress up. Being queen of prom and queen of a country are totally different things. As my best friend, I would expect you of all people to understand how difficult this is. I’m on the outside trying to learn the rules and customs. The people don’t respect my authority — not that I really have the opportunity to establish any with Jamie constantly stepping in, and worst of all, I never get to shed the crown and be a normal teenager. Ever again.”
Whoa — hold up, Hal Prince! She was definitely going through more than I’d realized. Unfortunately, she’d made the transition look so easy that I hadn’t noticed how much she struggled. But as her best friend, I should’ve seen it . . . Maybe I would have if I hadn’t been so self-absorbed.
“I’m sorry.” I stood and wrapped my arms around her. “You’re really doing a great job.”
“It’s just so hard.” Her voice hitched, causing my throat to clog along with it. “This isn’t like some fairy tale where you win the prince, become royalty, and live happily ever after. This is real life. My life. Every day brings a new challenge that only I can solve. Some are as trivial as vandalized sheep, but I’ve also got to face angry mobs who don’t want a foreign queen — ”
“You’re not foreign — you’re American.” She pulled away just enough to level me with an incredulous look. “Sorry. Continue.”
“Well, you saw what the limbus is doing. Sometimes . . . I feel completely and utterly alone.”
I may not have understood all the intricacies of politics but I was an expert in friendship. Pulling her back into a tight hug, I said, “You’re not. I’m here. And I’m sorry. Plus you’ve got Jamie — not to mention Duncan, Fergus, Fiona, and a whole lot of other folks.”
She squeezed back for a couple of moments and then let me go to check her makeup in the mirror. While Doon had pencils, powders, and rouges, I’d supplied mascara courtesy of my local drugstore. Too bad I hadn’t brought the waterproof kind.
Rummaging through my bag, I grabbed a tube of Vee’s most favorite gloss and handed it to her. “Here. Jamie MacCrae will have no idea what hit him.”
“Oh, Mango-granate, how I’ve missed you!” Vee hugged the tube to her chest. “Thanks, Ken. I am so glad you’re here — and not just because of the limbus. I’ve really needed you.”
“I’ve needed you too.” As Vee applied her gloss, I grabbed my preferred flavor, Strawberry-colada-tini, and did the same. With a smack of my lips, I declared, “Ready.”
With Eòran on our strappy heels, we descended the tower and then wound our way through the castle to the Great Hall. Dancing had already begun. A dozen young couples stepped across the gleaming walnut floor in an intricate reel. I recognized Analisa’s willowy form as she glided by in the arms of the Rosettis’ oldest son.
Banquet tables for dining, and later for playing cards, were at the opposite end of the room. Uttering something about lavender cream puffs, Vee pointed toward the buffet feast laid out along the interior wall. I knew from my previous visit to Doon that this party was a casual affair so people could eat — or not eat — as it suited them. I definitely fell into the latter group. The idea of pretending to be in love with Duncan was making me nauseous. How long before everyone guessed that I was wearing my true feelings as a mask?
What I needed was to lock my emotions in a box. Although I suspected I would find no peace of mind in pretending, I would make-believe each word from my lips did not betray my heart.
Fiona and Fergus had leaked the news that I’d returned, so no one seemed surprised at my sudden appearance as the queen’s plucky sidekick. As Vee wandered through the hall greeting her people, many offered me their heartfelt congratulations. Maybe it was my imagination, but the crowd seemed smaller than the last time I was here.
When we reached the far corner, a young boy perched on a low, wooden stool peered at us with hopeful caramel-colored eyes. Grabbing Vee’s arm to get her attention, I pointed to the boy who, in turn, frowned at me. “Who’s that little guy?”
“That’s Lachlan. And I’m sure he’s out of sorts because Jamie isn’t here.” As if sensing he was the topic of our discussion, the boy crossed his arms. His lower lip jutted out defiantly, prompting her to say, “I’ll go talk to him.”
I nodded, barely hearing her words as a distant memory surfaced. A boy of seven — my imaginary friend, Finn, — sat Indian-style on the Brig o’ Doon, his arms crossed, his lips puckered and downcast. I recalled skipping up to the bridge and asking him what was wrong.
“I’m supposed to be at a dance. But I don’t want to be there,” he said belligerently before standing up. “I want to be here with you.”
My heart fluttered as if I’d eaten butterflies. The strange little tremors made me feel both happy and anxious. It was my first summer in Alloway, a lonely one until I happened on Finn the day before. “I’m glad you came back.”
“I promised ye I would. Jamie told me you ar
en’t real, and I need to stop making up stories. But I dinna believe him.” Finn glanced over his shoulder. “They’re looking for me. I canna stay.”
I distinctly remembered the warmth of his hand as I grabbed it. “Promise me you’ll come back tomorrow.”
“I’ll always return for you. Tha’s a promise.”
And he had, day after day, summer after summer. In the end, it was I who’d eventually broken faith and stopped coming.
Finn faded away along with the memory. Had he really mentioned his brother, Jamie, to me all those years ago, or was I misremembering? Maybe the whole imaginary Finn really being Duncan thing was wishful thinking on behalf of my subconscious.
Vee would recall if I’d ever mentioned that conversation with Finn. When we were growing up, I told her everything about him. Unfortunately, Vee was too busy being the dutiful monarch to notice I’d taken a stroll down memory lane. And if I asked for her confirmation, I’d have to confess what I suspected, that my Calling to Duncan had been going on for over a decade. Then she’d start pressuring me to stay. It would be cruel to get her hopes up, when I didn’t even know what I wanted . . . Aside from Duncan’s forgiveness.
“He’s not budging.” I looked to Vee for context, afraid she was sharing my brain again, when she gestured to the boy. “Lachlan says he’s waiting for Jamie.”
She took my arm and continued to make nice with the villagers. Just as we were finishing our first lap, Gabriella and Sofia Rosetti waved us over. Vee smiled at them and pivoted on the balls of her feet, but I grabbed her elbow before she could move. “Wait, I thought we hated them?”
Speaking through her frozen smile, she replied, “I’m the queen, remember. It’s my job to like everyone. Besides, we were wrong about the Rosetti sisters. Gabby is very sweet once you get to know her, and Sofia has become a good friend.”
Before we could cross the floor, Gabriella rushed at me, dragging her older sister by the sleeve. The younger of the Rosetti sisters was even lovelier than the last time I’d seen her. Her gangly limbs had developed subtle curves. And her golden hair seemed longer and flowier than before. A hint of makeup accentuated her emerald eyes. Her green maxi dress, complements of the Queen Vee summer line, matched her perfectly and belled around her as she approached.
“I heard you came back. Your Calling to Duncan must’ve been too strong to stay apart. That’s so romantic.” Even with a Scottish brogue, she rolled her Rs like a true Italian. The effect would’ve been charming if she didn’t bristle with excitement like a puppy about to happy tinkle.
Sofia stood off to one side. While Gabby was the spitting image of their Scottish mother, Sofia favored her dad’s fiery, Italian roots. But this girl was a mere ghost of the Sicilian bombshell I remembered. Purplish crescents appeared just below her ebony eyes, and her dark curls looked like they hadn’t been tamed in weeks. Her traditional Doonian skirt and blouse seemed too large on her thin frame, as if she’d recently lost weight. And I couldn’t help noticing the way she flinched when her sister trilled “rrromantic” — like she’d been slapped.
Gabby continued to talk a mile a minute, oblivious to her sister’s discomfort. “You must tell me all about it. When did you first realize that you and Duncan shared a true Calling? And what did Prince Duncan say when he met you at the bridge? Are you engaged?”
She grabbed my hand and I hastily jerked it back. I opened my mouth, at a loss over which question to answer first, when Sofia said, “She only just arrived, Gabby. Of course she’s not yet engaged.”
With a nod, Gabby accepted the answer and moved on. “How did your Calling first manifest?”
“What?” “Excuse me.” Sofia and I spoke over one another, and then the petite Italian hurried away.
Vee glanced at us, her eyes rounded in concern. “I’ll go after her.” She followed in Sofia’s wake, leaving me trapped.
Gabby continued to — well, gab as if her sister’s behavior was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Each Calling shows itself differently as the souls connect across the bridge.” She nodded toward Vee. “Queen Veronica had visions of Jamie while she was still in Indiana. And Prince Jamie had dreams of being in her world.”
She paused for a moment, clearly proud she’d been privy to the private details of Vee and Jamie’s love life. “So how did Duncan appear to you?”
To my horrification, I spouted out the memory that was freshly in my mind. “First as a little boy.”
Holy Schwartz! I hadn’t meant to say that. I glanced at Vee, who was talking in a low, animated voice with Sofia and gave no indication of overhearing my confession. Leaning in to the younger Rosetti sister, I adopted a tone that indicated my next statement was just between us. “He used to appear as my imaginary friend when we were little.”
Before Gabby could follow up with a million questions, Sofia abruptly ran toward the exit. With a hasty apology, Gabriella followed. As I watched the sisters’ retreat, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl who had once nearly been betrothed to Jamie.
“What was that about?” I asked Vee as she returned to my side.
“Sofia had a Calling before the Centennial. But the boy from her dreams didn’t cross the Brig o’ Doon with the Destined. She’s been confused and heartsick.”
Make that very sorry. If life wasn’t cruel enough, why not add a cast of happy couples to torment her. “Did she elaborate on her Calling? Like how it was manifesting?”
Vee’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No. Why?”
“For character research. Gabby said something about each experience being unique.”
Vee continued to consider me, and I swear I could see the gears turning behind her shrewd eyes. While I groped for a safe change of subject, Analisa whirled by, still in the arms of the oldest Rosetti boy. Which made me wonder where the other girl with the unfortunate Calling had disappeared to . . .
“Where’s Emily?”
Vee shrugged. “She usually skips these feasts. They’re too difficult in her current emotional state.”
I nodded, watching Analisa and her dance partner cross over to the table of ale. She was leading the boy around like a prize bull. Before I could check myself, I blurted, “Could she be any more shallow — parading her arm candy around the room like some supermodel?”
Vee followed the direction of my gaze. “What’s your issue with Analisa?”
“She’s a criminal.”
Using her low, “serious” voice as she pulled me toward an unoccupied space near the buffet tables, she said, “She’s not a criminal here. She’s one of the Destined — led to this kingdom for a purpose. We need her gifts.”
“I still don’t like her. She has squinty eyes.”
Vee jabbed my ribcage with her stiletto-like elbow. “Kenna, she’s half Japanese!”
“Ow! What’s her ethnicity got to do with anything? I’m talking about her shiftiness.”
Vee groaned. “Is this about Duncan? Because they’re just friends.”
My gut clenched like I’d been punched. “That girl and Duncan are friends? What kind of friends?”
“Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Vee turned toward the nearest pastry table, a sure-fire sign she was trying to avoid telling me something.
I grabbed her arm to keep her from fleeing. “How much time have they spent together? What kind of things do they do when they’re together?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like I have them followed.” But as queen she could have . . . Before I had a chance to argue the point, she continued. “You left him, Ken. When he first came home — ”
I cut her off with a hand gesture. I didn’t need to hear how messed up he was when he got back, or how it was all my fault. I already carried epic guilt over what I’d done, even if I’d had the best of intentions. What I wanted was to understand the nature of their relationship. Was she the reason that every time Duncan seemed to thaw, he immediately pulled away? “Are they dating?”
“Not that I’ve seen. T
hat’s the truth.” Vee paused. “Mostly they just . . . talk.”
“Talk a little or a lot?”
“Does it really matter?” So a lot.
A million thoughts swirled in my head. What were his feelings toward her? How did she feel about him? And what about the oldest Rosetti boy? Was he a ploy to make Duncan jealous or was the obnoxious Londoner a fickle shrew as well as a felon?
I glanced at Analisa cupping her boy toy’s bicep and whispering conspiratorially into his ear. Both their lips quirked in a half-suppressed secret smile, their eyes gleaming from some inside joke. If Duncan did care for her, she’d undoubtedly wreck him.
“Ken? Maybe you should talk to Duncan. Just ask.”
And what if he confirmed he’d moved on? Luckily, Fiona’s arrival spared me from having to respond. Her hazel eyes blazed as she gestured toward the doors that led outside before crossing the room. With Vee and me following at a discrete distance, the three of us slipped into the night.
The battlement formed a balcony along the entire side of the castle facing the lake at one end and the mountains at the other. With the party not yet in full swing, we had the space to ourselves.
Without any sort of prelude, Fiona stated, “The lads are back.”
Vee opened her mouth, but before she could get her question out Fiona added, “They’re all fine. Just getting cleaned up. I expect they’ll be here anon. Although Fergus Lockhart can perish on the moors for all I care at the moment.”
Vee made a sympathetic noise somewhere between a cluck and a whimper. “What’s wrong?”
“He wants ta move the wedding up — to a week from tomorrow!” She began to pace, her hips twitching like an agitated housecat’s. “My mum’s already enough of a terror. If we move up the date, I’ll never hear the end of it!”
I exchanged a helpless glance with Vee. Although I considered Fiona a true friend, we didn’t share any bestie psychic connection. “Did he say why?”
