If Victoria Taryn treated floral arrangements like a military campaign, she treated the Royal Wedding Waltz like a fight for absolute survival.
"No, no, no!" Victoria's voice cracked like a whip across the empty expanse of the Grand Ballroom. "You look like two wooden planks caught in a sluggish current! The Wedding Waltz is the centerpiece of the reception! It must project unity, passion, and unbroken imperial dominance!"
Kaia winced as Prince Beckett stepped heavily onto her right foot for the fourth time in ten minutes.
"My deepest apologies," Beckett whispered, his face shining with a layer of nervous sweat. "I am trying to project dominance, Kaia, but my boots have very thick soles, and the marble is aggressively slippery."
"It's fine," Kaia murmured through a strained, plastic smile. "I didn't need that toe anyway. I have nine others."
