The woman who stared back at her in the mirror was every inch a princess.

She had no idea where RJ had vanished to.

Oh boy.

“Beautiful.”

The voice came from the door, and Eloise turned. “Your royal highness.” She curtsied, as did Imani, and RJ just sat there, not sure what to do.

“Um,” she made to gather the makeup brushes left in her lap.

“Stay seated. I’m still not used to it.” The woman came into the room. Tall and regal, she wore her deep-chestnut-brown hair back and up, in a similar, if not as fancy chignon, a pair of dress pants and a floral blouse. Her blue eyes settled on RJ, kind. “I needed to meet this American Imani has been texting me about.”

She came over. “Just call me Gemma. We Americans have to stick together.” Gemma gave a glance to Eloise, then her work. “Breathtaking.”

“I really don’t recognize myself,” RJ said.

“Most brides don’t. They’re dazzled by what they see in the groom’s eyes. And that’s exactly how it should be. Love should transform us, make us realize that we are set apart.” She leaned in. “That each of us are princesses.”

RJ laughed. “I’m a cowgirl, not a princess.”

“Tell that to your groom,” Gemma said. She winked. “Imani says you’ll be attending the Rosendans.”

“Yes.”

“Lovely. Well, I won’t tell a soul that I have seen this dress before.” She picked it up from the blue box. “Enchanting.” She held it out to RJ. “Let’s get you dressed.”

It took the crowd, it seemed, to slide the dress over her head without upsetting her hair and makeup, but twenty minutes later, she stood, fully dressed, her feet in the golden heels, resplendent in a full-length mirror that Princess Gemma had brought in.

“Your groom is a lucky man.”

“Oh, I think it’s me who is lucky,” RJ said.

“You need these.” Imani handed her a pair of white, elbow length gloves.

“And this.” Gemma gestured to a butler, standing near the door. He came in holding a box. Gemma opened it.

“Oh, no I can’t —”

“Calm down. The baubles aren’t real diamonds. It’s one of our fakes, that we use for our costumes. It was on display here a few years ago when Daffy, our then curator, created a vintage wedding dress display. This was on the Princess Louisa’s display.”

She put the simple tiara on her head. The pearl-encrusted crown sat perfectly on her head, the diamond-like chips glittering in the light.

“Are you sure?”

“You can wear it to the ball and return it then.” Gemma leaned down. “Happy wedding day.”

“She needs to get to the church.” Imani stood behind her.

RJ glanced at the wall clock. “I’m late. Already—oh York will think I’m not coming.”