Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141385 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Oh, I had something before you arrived,” I reply. “But thank you. Do you mind if I… do my thing?”
For the first time, she cracks a tiny smile. “Please, go ahead.”
“Thank you.”
I walk the walk, running my fingers over the curved backs of the chairs and sofa. The velvet cushions feel like magic beneath my fingertips; so soft and dreamy that it can’t possibly be real. As I touch it, grounding myself and my nerves, I scan the room for the best lighting.
“Can you tell me which way is south from here, by any chance?” I ask Sophia.
“Uh, I believe these windows are west facing,” she replies.
“Thank you.” I turn to see two young men approach the doorway.
“This is Aaron and James. They’ll assist you with anything you need moving,” she explains.
“Oh, perfect. Hello.” I give them both my best smile, and one of them drops his gaze.
Well, my charm is one of my best features.
Not that anybody asked me to toot my own horn, but I don’t care.
“Would one of you please move this chair over here?” I tap the chair and quickly skip to the spot I want it. “And the other sit in it?”
“Sit in it, miss?” James—or is it Aaron?—asks.
“Yes. Just so I can get an idea of the lighting,” I explain. “Oh, Sophia, can’t you tell me more information? What kind of portraits am I taking?”
“Formal portraits in full regalia for the Crown Prince’s thirtieth birthday,” a familiar voice says from the doorway. “Sorry about the secrecy.”
I turn at the sound of Crown Prince Finley’s voice, but whatever I was going to say dies on my tongue when I see him.
Full regalia, indeed.
I don’t even know what the names are of what he’s wearing, but I know one thing: he looks every bit the prince that seven-year-old me dreamt of. Not even Disney themselves could create a figure so dashingly regal, and here I am, looking at him.
Perhaps he should be illegal.
With those looks, he’s certainly halfway to killing someone.
God only knows even my cold heart has stuttered at the sight of him.
“Your Royal Highness.” Sophia bows her head. “I was about to send someone to get you.”
“No worries,” he replies, never taking his eyes off me. “I was keeping an eye out for our guest anyway. Mostly to see that shocked face of hers.”
“She doesn’t look very shocked,” the man behind him says, peering around his shoulder. “More like she wants to hit you.”
“Shut up, Oscar,” Crown Prince Finley mutters, still looking at me. “I’m sorry for the secrecy, Miss Porter.”
I shake my head, partially for him, and partially to pull myself together. Now is not the time to be enamoured by a man in full royal regalia, Harriet.
Plenty of time for that once I’ve convinced him to marry me.
“Please, don’t be. I understand completely, Your Royal Highness,” I reply, also lowering my head slightly. “Although, I am afraid I’m not quite ready to start yet. We were just setting up.”
“So I can see,” he says. “However, who better to check lighting with than the subject himself?”
“You have a point.” I pause. “In that case, would you mind if I boss you around and make you change positions for the next ten minutes so I can get my bearings?”
His lips twitch up, and his bright blue eyes twinkle with something like that looks a little bit as though he wouldn’t mind at all. “It’s not often I get bossed around. Go wild.”
“You get bossed around,” the other man says. “You just don’t listen.”
Crown Prince Finley sighs as he sits in the chair one of the younger guys just vacated. “Don’t listen to him. Miss Porter, this is my aide, Oscar, the future Duke of Lindberg. Oscar, this is Miss Hannah Porter.”
Oscar approaches me with his hand outstretched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Porter. Your work is beautiful.”
“Likewise, Lord Lindberg.” I shake his hand. “And thank you, I’m glad you think so.”
“Don’t mind him,” Crown Prince Finley says, staring at him. “He’ll be in the corner. Working.”
Oscar rolls his eyes but nods his head at me and takes off to the corner with Sophia and opens his laptop at a table.
I spend the next ten minutes playing with the lighting, then excuse myself to set all my equipment up. The bigger items are already here, so it’s merely a matter of arranging my laptop and other smaller things.
“These are the kind of photos we’re aiming for,” Oscar says when I’m done, showing me a small selection of photographs on his phone. “We have around ninety minutes from now blocked off for this. Do you think it’s achievable?”
“Absolutely. How many photos do you intend to release?”
“Two to three on the occasion, preferably like these.” He brings up the most important ones. “But we’d like some extras to be released in the future.”