“What?” Nina asked, bewildered. “Gabriella is definitely not my friend.”
“Quit with the act, okay? I know you sold me out to Gabriella so that you could get your financial aid reinstated and have Jefferson to yourself!”
The shock on Nina’s face was so immediate and intense that Daphne felt a prickle of surprise.
“First of all, my financial aid had nothing to do with Gabriella. As for Jeff”—Nina looked pointedly at Daphne—“seems like you’re the one who has him to yourself.”
“But you’ve been trying to break us up!”
Nina sighed wearily. “Do you accuse everyone of that, or just me?”
“Just you. Who else has the motive or the ability? Not that you could pull it off,” Daphne added quickly. “But you could do some damage trying.”
“If I did any damage, it would be because I’ve learned from your example.”
Oddly, that made Daphne want to laugh.
What had Ethan said all those weeks ago, when she first told him that Nina had betrayed her? It just doesn’t sound like Nina.
Daphne thought back to that night at the League of Kings banquet, trying to remember why she’d been so convinced that Nina had double-crossed her. Nina’s financial aid had been reinstated, and then Nina had kissed Jefferson in the gardens…. What if it hadn’t been part of a devious master plan at all?
Maybe the kiss was nothing more than that: a kiss.
Maybe Daphne had seen antagonism where there wasn’t any, because she had grown up with knives in her hands, in a family that was constantly at war with everyone else, and especially with itself.
Daphne was suddenly exhausted from fighting. The thought of laying down her weapons didn’t seem so unreasonable anymore.
She nodded at Nina’s dress. “I hope you’re not planning on wearing that to the wedding. I know it’s New Year’s Eve, but surely someone told you, sequins are not appropriate at a state function.”
A wary mistrust flickered over Nina’s face. “Daphne, you and I both know I’m not coming to your wedding.”
“But isn’t Prince James bringing you?” Actually, that was a great idea. It couldn’t hurt for Jefferson to see Nina with James—to remind him that his ex was off the table now.
Nina hesitated. “He did ask, but I figured it wasn’t a good idea.”
“Why not?” Daphne pressed. “Don’t you think it’s time we put all the drama behind us?”
“Um…yes, but…”
Daphne peered further into Nina’s fitting room and let out a little cry of triumph. “Don’t even pretend you weren’t planning on coming, because this room is full of black-tie gowns!”
Nina’s neck reddened. “That was a misunderstanding. I told the salesperson I wanted a party dress for New Year’s. My friends and I are going out to a hotel bar downtown.”
“You have the rest of your life to do the all-you-can-drink thing at a hotel bar,” Daphne said firmly, and began sorting through the dresses. There was nothing like evaluating other people’s fashion choices to help you escape your own problems.
“This one would look great on you, except it’s tea-length…. This neckline is too high; you should show off your shoulders…. This is from last year’s winter collection; they shouldn’t have even brought it out. And oh my god, what is this color? Puke?” she asked, at the same time Nina quipped, “Vomit-colored?”
They made eye contact again, and for a brief moment Daphne felt the bright, buoyant sense of connection from earlier this year, when she and Nina had been friends.
She looked back at the rack of dresses, dismissing one after another until she paused on a plum-colored gown. It was classic, with a fitted bodice and fluted skirt, but there was something edgy about the shimmer of gold threads that shot through the purple. “You should try this,” she said, holding it up against Nina’s torso.
Daphne stepped behind the fitting room door and heard the rustle of Nina unzipping the sequined dress and stepping into the gown. When she reemerged, she fiddled with the torso, yanking it higher on her chest.
“It looks fantastic,” Daphne breathed.
“You don’t think it’s too revealing?”
Nina’s shoulders and neck were bare, the fabric skimming over her upper arms to fasten in a knot at her back.
“It’s revealing, but in an elegant rather than inappropriate way.”
“I don’t know whether to believe you,” Nina said baldly. “This feels like a trap. Like you want me to show up in the wrong thing and embarrass myself in front of all the world’s royalty.”
Daphne was unexpectedly saddened by this, though Nina had a point. It wouldn’t have been the first time Daphne tried to sabotage her.
“It’s not a trap. Don’t you know by now, I lie about many things, but never about fashion.”
She was pleased when that got a laugh from Nina.
“You really do look good. I hope you’ll come,” she added.
Perhaps Nina heard the sincerity in her voice, because she shook her head in defeat. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but fine. I’ll come.”
Nina sat on the bed in Jamie’s dorm room, wearing a red cocktail dress and heels, holding their two invitations to the royal wedding. Each piece of ecru stationery had been hand-calligraphed, as the royal family had done for centuries, so that each invitation was personalized for its corresponding guest. She wasn’t sure whether they did that to keep out interlopers, or simply to show off.
The Lady Chamberlain is commanded by Her Majesty to invite
Miss Nina Perez Gonzalez
to the Celebration and Blessing of the Marriage of
His Royal Highness
Jefferson George Alexander Augustus
Prince of America
&
Miss Daphne Madeleine Deighton
Thursday, the thirty-first of December, at two in the afternoon
This was certainly an invitation she had never expected to get.
“Look at how different ours look,” she mused. The calligrapher had been forced to tighten the rows of text on Jamie’s, since it was addressed to His Royal Highness James Charles Alexander Douglas, Prince of Canada. And there were subtle differences in the shape of the letters—the loop of the y, the curlicue at the end of Highness.
“It just feels excessive,” she went on. “Why can’t they print the invitations and just hand-address the envelopes like normal people?”