Read The Royal Treatment for Free Online Page B

our table.”
    At the end of the closet was a small dressing room. I slipped out of my clothes and into the dress, which fit me better than anything I’d ever worn. And it was dry.
    I stepped out of the dressing space and was promptly handed some gold ballet slippers and a quilted tote bag from Bosworth. “For the lady’s…attire.”
    “Thank you, Bosworth. Can I call you Bos?”
    “The lady may follow me.”
    I shoved my T-shirt and jeans into the bag and followed Bos past the small entry to the sun-drenched dining area.
    The regal excess of this job was to be expected, but even the richest of royals would have been impressed with the majestic glow of Dorshire Hall. Antique tables dotted the vast room, wallpapered in a lush cream damask. Seemingly every monarchy, past and present, was represented through delicate china, polished silverware, or priceless furniture. Pictures of hundreds of royals covered every inch of the vaulted ceilings, sloping high into a watchful V. We reached our table and Bosworth pulled out my seat.
    So this was Level Two. This I could get used to.
    Genevieve smiled at me from behind her teacup. “Bringing a sub here for the first time is one of my favorite parts of the job. Now, don’t worry about what to order; the chef’s five courses are preset.”
    “This is amazing.” I swigged my ice water and scanned the room. “This is all…amazing. You probably hear this all the time, but I feel like a princess.”
    “It is lovely, isn’t it?” She appraised the room. “Now, let’s get down to business. Before we discuss you, Desi, I want you to look at the portraits above us. How do you feel?”
    “Uh…overwhelmed. And honored. To be in their presence. They’re all royal, right?”
    “Not all of them. Dorshire Hall chronicles Façade’s history as well. You see the mother of our agency, Woserit, right there.” She pointed to a painting done in profile of a woman with dark skin and black-lined eyes, dressed in ancient Egyptian robes. “You remember Woserit discovered that the silt in the Nile had transformative properties. By disguising herself to protect her queen, she became the first substitute.
    “After discovering that magic, Woserit passed down the secret of the silt we use in the rouge to her female descendants. For generations and generations, no one beyond her lineage was aware of the magic she’d unearthed.”
    I stared at the portraits twisting up the walls. “So where did Façade come from if Woserit’s family was the only one that knew about the magic?”
    Genevieve indicated another painting, this one of a woman with a sly smile, wearing a medieval headdress. She was posed next to a hunting dog. “That’s Beatrix the Bold. Beatrix was the first of Woserit’s descendants to explore the silt’s components. She found that the silt only worked on those with a sort of magical potential, what we now call MP. That led her to define and conduct tests on MP—who had it, what caused it. As you know, a human’s dormant MP ignites when it interacts with another organism.”
    “Mine was fish,” I said, thinking back to the day I’d made a wish on the fish in the back of the pet store. I’d wanted to be a girl who made an impact, and now with this job, well…wish granted.
    “Yes, I had a rather frightening run-in with a rhinoceros, but it proved to be for the best. Beatrix believed her MP was sparked by her dog. MP is unique to each individual, not hereditary, although Woserit’s magical descendants are highly valued at Façade.” Meredith took another sip of tea. “Beatrix was also an early scientist and inventor. She actually made our first bubble—nearly died flying it.”
    “Busy woman.” I stared up at Beatrix’s calculated gaze.
    “Shrewd woman. She knew that magical power should be limited, that if it was discovered, it could be used for evil. So she made a secret pact with world leaders—magic would be used solely on royals. In exchange, they promised