A well-dressed man with a royal crest on his blazer jacket walked down the hall of the XFW headquarters. Mason stepped up to greet him. "Ahh, you must be Mr. Lewis, the Mecca Island representative. Glad you could make it. How was your flight? Please, come to my office."
"Thank you, Mr. Archer. Please call me William. I am Arabella's personal head of security. We're interested in hearing more about this event than your company would like to host in Mecca Island. I'm here to discuss Arabella's media and personal protection if she in attendance. The future princess is honored to be invited to the show and we are open to negations on bringing her to the event."
"Please, sit. Would you like something to drink?" Mason asked.
"No. Thank you. Let's get right to business," the regal Englishman instructed. He was a very pleasant laid back older grey-haired man with a kind smile. William was one of Bella's favorite people in the palace, and he always had a way of making her laugh.
"I understand that Arabella can't appear as a guest on stage. Is it alright to acknowledge her being there to the audience?" Mason sat at his desk taking notes.
"That will be fine. As you're aware, the future princess is a bit of a loose cannon. She has had more than a few bad media run-ins. We want to ensure this event doesn't have any adverse publicity for her majesty."
"Understood. I have two children about her age, and they can still be a handful even though they are gown."
About that moment, Scarlett burst through the door. She stopped in her dead in her spot, staring at the Royal security with her mouth gaped open.
Mason just shook his head and rested it in his hand. "My daughter is an idiot," he said under his breath.
"What is the meaning of this?" The man questioned, sitting up tall and squaring his shoulders.
"I'm sorry. This is my daughter, Scarlett. She's very excited to meet the princess."
Scarlett just stood looking at him in awe with a goofy grin across her face. A royal guard was in her dad's office and she was so excited that she couldn't contain it. "I'm sorry. I was just..."
The man stood and held out his hand to her with a gracious smile. "Excited. I understand, Miss Scarlett. I hear you are a fan of Arabella. She's excited to meet you. She is a huge fan of the... Rebels of Destruction, is it?"
"That's right. I can't wait until the show. Can I meet her in person?" Scarlett smiled a huge cheesy grin.
Mason ushered his daughter out of the office. "Scarlett, we will discuss this later. I don't think Mr. Lewis is here to see you gushing over them. I'm sorry, sir. Let's get back to business. Scarlett, go see if the caterers are here to provide lunch for our guest."
"Yes, Daddy."
Quickly Mason went back to work, hoping his daughter's intrusion didn't just blow the deal.
***
"Do I have to wear this fu-fu crap to a wrestling show? Can't I just wear my Rebels of Destruction t-shirt and jeans?" Arabella fidgeted with her itchy blouse.
The soon-to-be princess wore a black wiggle skirt, lace-up pumps, with a matching chiffon blouse with a bow collar, looking very poised and elegant. At least it was black, and the Duchess didn't force her to wear something too prissy. Bella was never a fan of dressing up to impress people and to wear a dress to an event like this was just silly in her eyes.
"Arabella, dear. You're lucky the king is allowing you to go to that event at all. After that fiasco of falling into the punch bowl while drunk at Lord Drake's party last week, and then trying to high five Prince Jamison in England at the royal dinner, you are wearing on the king's last nerve. I thought everyone was going to have a panic attack over that dirty joke you told the prince," the duchess reminded her.
"Eek. Don't remind me. Who knew Queen Camille had no sense of humor? She has a royal stick up her butt." Bella picked at her teeth, which instantly got smacked down.
"Manners, Arabella." Bella rolled her eyes at Cora for scolding her. "I saw that." The Duchess gave a half-smile. "Remember your training. Please, don't get us into trouble again tonight."
"Fine. I'll be good. If you buy me a corn dog and a new Jett logo t-shirt at the show."
"Deal." The Duchess winked, "I might even spring for a soda."