Page 46 of Royally Matched
“As you wish,” he says, reminding me of thatPrincess Bridemovie we used to watch as a family.
Princess Sofia now has Lemon on a leash, too. “I’m so sorry, everyone,” she says, her voice shaky and high. “I don’t know what got into them today, but you know labs—always hungry.”
I look around at the destroyed garden party. The dogs have done a real number on the place, demolishing two tables, and scattering the guests.
“Are you proud of yourself, Pepper?” I ask the dog. She simply looks up at me, panting.
“I do not understand dogs. Why would anybody want them when they cause this level of destruction?” Enzo grumps.
“They’re Princess Sofia’s dogs. You might have to learn to love them if you end up together.”
He harrumphs. “Not likely.”
I’m not sure whether he means it’s unlikely he’ll grow to love the dogs, or whether he’ll end up with the princess.
As members of the staff begin to tidy the mess, I lead Pepper over to Princess Sofia, where a couple members of the staff offer to take the dogs from us.
Princess Sofia shakes her head. “They’re my dogs. I’ll deal with them.” She reaches for Pepper, and I hand her the leash.
“Be good for your Mama,” I tell the dog.
“I think it’s fairly clear to say that ship has sailed.”
“They’re just being dogs. I couldn’t believe how well behaved they were when I first met them at the event in the throne room.”
“They usually are well behaved. I trained them myself. I don’t know what happened today. Maybe it was because I left them inside. Your brother told me he would prefer them not to be here.”
“Right.”
She turns and waves at the gawking, dishevelled guests. “Sorry again,” she says. “Thanks for your help,” she says to me as she leads the dogs from the garden.
I return to Enzo. “Why don’t you go and smooth things out with her. She looked upset.”
“Smooth what? They’re her dogs, as she said. I’m sure she’ll be back once she’s dealt with them.”
The way he says the words “dealt with them” sends a chill down my spine, like he expects her to go take them out the back and shoot them.
My brother has never liked dogs. He finds them too rambunctious and unpredictable. Too smelly, too. He likes things to be just so, and anyone who’s had a dog knowsthat dogs are rarely “just so.” As they say, if you’re interested in dignity, having a dog should be at the bottom of your list.
“But she was mortified. I’m sure she could do with a kind word or two,” I say.
“I’m better off staying here and talking with our guests,” he replies, and I glance at Sigrid, standing by his side, looking a whole lot less freaked out than she was a few minutes ago.
I raise a quizzical brow at my brother. “You sure about that?
“Absolutely sure.”
Sofia has now disappeared from sight, and I make a snap decision. If Enzo has no plans to check on her, I suppose I can be the next best thing.
I round the hedge she disappeared behind only a moment ago to find a large floral clock made of marigolds. It’s bright and colorful, the flowers forming Roman numerals around the clock face. But I don’t have time to stop and fully appreciate it.
I spy an open gate and slip through it where I spot the princess and the dogs, walking away on a limestone path. “Princess Sofia!” I call, and she stops and turns to look at me. “Wait!”
“Go back to the party, Marco,” she instructs as she turns on her heel and returns to stomping along the path in her pumps, the dogs trotting happily beside her as though they haven’t done anything wrong.
But I’ve got longer legs than the princess, and I catch her up quickly. “Princess Sofia,” I repeat as I fall into stride beside her.
Just like her sister at the arbor, Lemon nuzzles me with a wet nose, her tail swishing from side to side.