Chapter Twenty-Seven

“How do I look?” I asked Mr. Irson. “Better this time?”

I wore the slacks and button-up silk blouse just like Sophie instructed. My hair was loose around my shoulders, but neatly curled. My makeup was light and sensible.

Just like the fifty-page rule book said to be.

Mr. Irson's eyes went up and down, evaluating every fiber of my clothing. I tried not to wiggle or fidget.

“Perfect,” he said after a moment. “Just the shoes. You really don't have heels?”

I crossed my arms. “No. No heels. I can't walk in them and I guarantee it would be a worse disaster than if I wore a bikini out on the tour.”

Mr Irson's eyes went wide and he looked utterly horrified by the idea that I would even propose such a thing. “Then, the flats will do.”

I grinned, feeling pleased. I was going to get this. I was going to follow all the rules the palace asked and I was going to do it well.

“Thank you for helping me,” I told him. “I know it's not really your job, but I really do appreciate it.”

“My job is to keep