Chapter 13

Dinner was going wonderfully. While Jordan knew Owen was still on alert, she had relaxed as course after course was served, and nothing happened. The bacon and bourbon stuffed mushrooms had been delicious and surprising. It appeared the caterer had made them a last-minute substitution based on the Prince’s new fiancée being from America. Which had thrilled Jordan’s stepmom to no end.

Then the Avgolemono soup, which was some sort of citrusy chicken and rice soup, was surprisingly light and flavorful. Jordan took note that it turned out to be one of the King’s favorites. She figured it never hurt to know what her future father-in-law liked.

The fish had been grilled swordfish, which was light, flaky, and perfect. Lemon sorbets was the palette cleanser followed by tender lamb chops served with a perfect vegetable medley. The salad had been interesting as it was a grilled watermelon salad, something Jordan hadn’t even thought about doing, grilling pieces of watermelon. The entire meal had been heavenly and now the pièce de résistance, as they say, decadent chocolate lava cakes. As they placed the plates on the table, Brutta came to alert and growled, catching Jordan’s attention. As the clear crystal domes were being removed, the dog barked and kept barking. “NOW SEE HERE, YOUNG LADY. It is bad enough that you bring your pet to dinner. If he can’t control himself, take him away!” Duke Birkshire protested. Jordan’s eyes got wide and as the King sliced into his chocolate lava cake, she jumped to her feet and yelled like she was on the prairie. “STOP!!! NO ONE EAT YOUR DESSERT!”

In the sudden silence, she continued. “I apologize, Your Majesty, but please don’t eat that cake. Brutta here isn’t a pet. Your security forces provided him for me after someone made a threat to poison me.”

“That’s preposterous!” the Duke proclaimed. “Who would threaten to poison a nobody like you?”

Prince Owen stood and looked at the Duke. “Your daughter did, Your Grace. I have the recording of the threat in my office at the royal palace.” He turned to his father. “She’s telling you the truth, Father. That dog is trained to growl and bark if he detects poison close by.”

“I see,” the King said. “Then it is a good thing you brought him with you, my dear.” He smiled at Jordan and if she hadn’t been watching, she would have missed the way his hand trembled as he lay his fork down. Just then a dark-haired man appeared at the King’s side. “I, for one, would like to know which desserts are poisoned, or if it is all of them.”

The King nodded. “That would be a good thing to know, General. How do you propose we do that?”

The head of the Royal Guard nodded to Brutta. “If Lady Jordan would allow us to borrow her dog...”

Jordan nodded. “Of course.”

The General thanked her and pointed to a young man in the typical black suit worn by Royal guards. “Take the dog into the hall. Then have two of the guards bring the desserts out one at a time. Starting with the King’s, present one plate at a time to the animal. Make a note of whose plate you have and each one the dog alerts to. Then bag those he does, please.”

“Yes, General.”

The older man looked at another of the obvious security forces. “Lock down the manor and grounds. I don’t want anyone able to enter or exit. Once we’re done with the desserts, let’s see if we can find who poisoned them. Start with the servers and then anyone who had access to the desserts. Again, use the dog to detect poison residue. No one, and I mean no one, leaves this place until we catch who did this.”

Soon, guardsmen were gathering plates and making a note of whose was whose.

The King stood and addressed the room. “I would suggest, ladies and gentlemen, that we skip dessert.” He smiled as nervous laughter played across the room. “Let’s retire and allow our security forces to do their jobs. This could take a while, so I suggest we turn in for tonight. I’ll keep everyone informed of what is happening tomorrow.”

The King turned and took his wife’s arm and the two left using a door other than the one security had led Brutta through. Every few seconds, a security team member would exit the door with a plate and the first few times you could hear the bulldog barking. Then silence after a few plates. So it wasn’t every dessert, just a select few. “Why don’t you find your ladies and head upstairs? I believe my father will have sent Mother up as well. I’m sure he and I will be busy for a while.”

Jordan nodded and headed upstairs. Along the way, she ran into her stepmother, Jennifer, and Anna, all talking and invited them up. When they got upstairs, they found Lillian curled up in a corner, crying. They gathered her with them; the poor girl was scared for her friends and missing her King Charles spaniels. “I don’t know if I can be one of your ladies-in-waiting, Jordan. I’ve been away from my puppies too long as it is.”

Jordan put her hand on her friend’s arm. “Then bring them with you. I have Brutta, no reason you can’t have your companions along. That way, you’ll have them when you need them.”

Next, they went to collect Consuela, but she wasn’t in her room. Anna smiled. “She’s probably in the gym or the armory beating or stabbing something.”

“Someone send her a text and tell her we’re all in my room and to come join us.”

They headed toward Jordan’s suite, and when they arrived, the door across the hall opened. Princess Jaquie laughed. “I was just sent to find you all. Mother and Grandmother want to talk about the wedding and start planning while we wait for the news. After all, we only have ten weeks.”

Jordan nodded and headed into the Royal Suite. “Whoever texts Consuela let her know about the change of venue.”

Pamolina nodded, and her quiet fingers started flying. Then she looked up and whispered. “Okay, so let’s make a list of the things we need to figure out to pull off Jordan’s Royal Wedding in ten weeks. We need a dress, unless you already have one?”

Then she blushed as she saw everyone looking at her. “Oh sorry. I guess I should have waited for Her Majesty to start.”

The Queen waved the girl’s embarrassment away. “No, you were completely right. I believe we were all just surprised. You are always the quiet one, my dear. While I know who you are, I’m not sure I even know your first name; you are Duke Wilshire’s niece, are you not?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, Pamolina Wilshire; my father is Count Wilshire, Uncle Roman’s younger brother.”

“Yes, and I believe we have just found your strength in Jordan’s little group. You’re a planner, aren’t you? You are organized and make lists, ensuring everything gets done.”

The girl blushed and nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The Queen looked at Jordan. “She would make you an excellent Personal Assistant. I have Gordon, who oversees all my different secretaries and presents me with lists of things I need to focus on. He makes sure I’m where I need to be and doing what I need to be doing. He is invaluable, as I believe Lady Pamolina will be for you.

Jordan grinned and looked at the blushing, quiet woman. “How does that sound to you?”

Pamolina bit her lip. “It sounds like a position I’d enjoy, My Lady.”

“Okay, stop you all. I’m Jordan. You are all my friends and I refuse to keep up this My lady stuff. I’m Jordan,” she pointed at herself. “You’re Pamolina,” she pointed at the quiet girl, “Lillian,” she pointed at the small happy again girl. “Jennifer,” she pointed at her American friend. “Consuela is Consuela even if she frowns at us for it. We are friends.”

Jaqueline spoke up, “When we’re alone I’m just Jaquie. Can’t help the Princess thing in public, unfortunately and you’ll have to do that for Jordan too after the wedding.”

The Queen pointed to herself. “While I may not be part of your group of friends, I’d be honored if you’d all just call me Dianna when we are alone. My mother-in-law will insist you all call her grandmother as well.”

Tricia smiled. “Well, I’m Tricia, I have always been Tricia, even to Jordan. I’m not her mother, but her stepmother, and I’ve never tried to make her call me anything else. She was a teen when I married her dad, so we’re friends more than mother and daughter.”

Jennifer laughed, “I don’t think that’s true, Tricia. I know she sees you as a kind of mom. We talked about you a lot in college and she was always calling you for mom-like advice.”

Jordan grabbed Tricia and hugged her. “She’s right, I may call you by name, but you’ve been the best mother figure I’ve ever had, after mom of course.”

Tricia smiled a watery smile. “Thank you Jordan, I love you too.”

“All right then, Pamolina, a dress is first on the list. What’s next?” the Queen asked.

“Umm decorations, I’m sure there are some traditions and regulations that we need to know. I’ve never seen a Phildonia Royal wedding.”

“No, I wouldn’t think you would have. Mine was the last one. The colors are a tradition, a royal blue and gold, of course, just like the Phildonian Royal seal.”

“Flowers?”

“No traditions about those.”

While they were talking and making lists, Jordan noticed Jennifer had pulled out her electronic sketch book and was busy drawing with the stylus. “Jenn, are you over there designing my wedding dress already?”