Chapter 3

"Well, that just sounds fabulous."

Susanna's lunch with the queen and Alberta was actually going quite well, but the conversation about her and New York was dwindling down, which could only mean one thing: wedding talk.

They were on one of the many balconies, facing out onto the large estate. Tents could be seen going up in the grove below.

"I do hope those tents are big enough. There always turns out to be more people than you expect," the queen said, looking worriedly at the tents.

"I'm sure it will be fine," Alberta consoled her.

"Besides, people probably won't even stay in the tents," Susanna chimed in.

They both looked at her oddly.

"Why wouldn't they stay in the tents?" the queen asked.

"The food is in the tents," Alberta said.

"Well, yes, but it will get so stuffy in the tents that people will want to move outside," Susanna said awkwardly. They were looking at her as if she had just sprouted another head.

"See! The tents are too small!" the queen exclaimed.

Susanna sighed, vowing to keep her mouth shut until this was over. Her wide-brimmed hat kept blocking her view, and she felt uncomfortable in the chocolate brown blazer and skirt her mother insisted that she wear. She felt far too dressed up for a lunch, but the queen and Alberta were dressed as if the wedding was today, so she took a sip of her gin and tonic and stopped her silent complaints.

"Thank you for such a lovely lunch," Susanna was saying to the queen and Alberta. The lunch was finally over, and it was nearing three o'clock in the afternoon. The other two women bid her goodbye and then turned around and went back into the castle, chattering worriedly about tents.

Susanna took her hat off and ran a hand through her hair. She unbuttoned the tight blazer and took it off, feeling much better in just her skirt and tank.

She stood waiting for the car, cooling herself off with the enormous hat, when she noticed something and began to laugh.

The prince, Ryan, was walking up the long driveway, his head hanging, a pack of golf clubs trailing behind him. He was also completely slathered in mud. His nicely pressed khakis were now brown, and a white polo shirt was barely visible underneath a layer of mud.

"Quit laughing," he said angrily when he approached her.

Her laughter died down. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I was golfing," he said, obviously pretending that he wasn't covered in mud from head to toe.

"Oh yes, and people go golfing and come back plastered in mud all the time," she said sarcastically, still chuckling.

"Well, it rained last night," he said.

"So?"

"So the course was muddy."

"What did you do, lie down and roll around in it?"

"No," he said irritably. "I just…"

"What?" she said, egging him on.

"I tripped over a club and fell in the mud, alright?" he said furiously.

She held a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing too hard. He glared at her, not a hint of a smile on his face.

"You think it's funny, do you?" he said. Then, without warning, he lifted up his hand and slapped some mud all over Susanna's face.

Her laughing abruptly stopped, and in its place came anger. She glared at him, but he just threw some more mud at her.

"Not so funny anymore, is it?" he said, finally cracking a mocking smile.

"You asshole!" she exclaimed, wiping the mud out of her eyes. It was his turn to laugh, and laugh he did. He laughed and laughed, while Susanna tried to get the mud out of her hair and off her shirt. The car finally came up, and Susanna got in angrily, slamming the door behind her.

Ryan's laughter died down as Susanna's car drove away. The smile, however, stayed on his face as he walked into his home.

He walked very quietly to his quarters, dumping the muddy golf clubs on the balcony and quickly undressing as he turned on the shower. It took him a good ten minutes to get all the mud out of his hair, and he got out and walked through the steamy bathroom to his closet. His quarters were much smaller than his brother's, but his closet was still easily the size of a studio apartment. He grabbed some jeans and a shirt, and put them on hurriedly when he heard his mother's voice at the door.

"Ryan! Where are you? Angelo has been waiting thirty minutes for you!"

Ryan cursed to himself. He had completely forgotten about his tuxedo fitting, what with the mud and the bitchy Susanna. He took a deep breath and opened his door.

"Where have you been?" his mother demanded.

"I am sorry, Mother. I was attempting to work on my golf skills," he said with a charming smile.

She sighed. "Please, Ryan, there is no time for your jokes. Go to the parlor and get your tuxedo fitted."

"Yes, Mother," he grumbled. He kissed her on the cheek and then walked quickly down the hall to the west wing parlor. Angelo, an elder Italian man, stood tapping his foot, a beautiful tux hanging on the mirror next to him.

"I apologize," Ryan said as he came into the room. "I forgot the time."

Angelo only raised his eyebrows. Ryan gave him an awkward smile as he took the tux. He changed as swiftly as he could behind the triple mirror, not bothering to tie the bowtie.

Angelo made a clicking noise with his tongue, and promptly tied the bow. He then buttoned the jacket and began to pull it in at the sides, thrusting pins into the fabric. Ryan tensed as the man's hand ran up the inseam, cursing his mother for not getting the measurements made first. Angelo, however, looked rather happy, which made Ryan rather sick.

As Angelo began to work on the shoulders, Ryan saw his thoughts flicker uncontrollably to Susanna. He grunted. What a piece of work she was… yet there was something different about her now that she lived in America. She had always been unhappy and dejected when she lived in Telera full-time, from which sprung her unpleasant sarcasm. He rolled his eyes and remembered her comment on him not being the best man. He decided that no, there was nothing different; she was still the same mean-spirited person she had been before she left for New York.

"Done," Angelo announced. Ryan sprang back behind the mirror, and took off the tux hastily. He put it back on the hanger and handed it to Angelo.

"A beautiful groomsman tuxedo," Angelo murmured, looking at the tux fondly. Ryan smiled, but then turned and left the room.

Did everyone have to remind him that he was only a groomsman, and not the best man? Just because his brother was closer to his cousin than to Ryan was not cause to make Ryan miserable. When Roberto had first announced that their cousin was to be the best man, Ryan had been fine with it. But now, everyone everywhere was reminding him how shameful it was that he wasn't the best man.

Oh, well, he thought. The wedding was tomorrow and then it would all be over.

Susanna cursed the prince on the way home. What a jerk! As she neared the house, she saw with dismay that her mother and aunt were standing on the stairs, waiting for her.

Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car, trying to wipe away the mud one last time. She steeled herself for what was coming.

"Susanna, there you are dear!"

She smiled as her aunt Emily came down the steps.

"Good heavens! What happened to you my dearest?" her aunt asked worriedly, eyeing the mud. Her mother came down the steps as well.

"It's a long story," Susanna lied.

"Well, let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" her kindly aunt said. Her mother looked at her with disapproval as her aunt led her up the steps and into the home.

Susanna excused herself and went to her room, ripping off her dirty clothes and jumping into the shower. She muttered angrily to herself as she scrubbed herself clean.

She changed into a light pink skirt and matching top, and quickly dried her hair. She hurried back downstairs and found her mother and aunt on the back patio, discussing the wedding.

"I've heard the dress is simply divine, just to die for," her aunt was saying. "Ah! Here she is!"

"Hello," Susanna said cheerfully, avoiding her mother's stern gaze. Her aunt began to chatter again, going on about the bride's dress, the food, the music… anything and everything. Her mother stayed interested the whole time, but Susanna's mind began to wander… to the prince. What a snob! And yet… Vivian's words ran through her head: "But I bet he's cute." He was awfully handsome… no! She shook her head to get rid of such stupid thoughts. He was egotistical and a jerk. And that was that.