Profession

Presentation of the work

Fortunately, I kept a wardrobe over here, including a nice suit from Uncle Steve in a dark gray. The skirt was a modified A-line, with a tailored jacket, collarless, with a deep white organza ruffle. I had the handmade black pumps that Mom had gotten for my college wardrobe; they were attractive and had a moderate heel. I'd do my hair and makeup nicely and wear my pearl earrings. I also took special pains with the portfolio; all images were discreetly watermarked, the black and white and color images separated out, and the digital images transferred to a fancy crystal plate. I made sure to polish off the fingerprints before popping it carefully into the holder in the new portfolios I'd had made for high-end clients. These new ones were made from thick, stiff green rag paper, handmade for interest. My monogram was front and center in copper to match my favorite hair color, and the portfolio was a bifold; the front half had a space for the crystal plate in solitary splendor, outlined with a copper  border, and the second half held the paper prints, held in with silk ribbons that had a flat clasp to the side, where it couldn't damage the images. There were additional folders that were just for paper images if I had so many that they wouldn't fit into just the one, and all this slid into a monogrammed dark green silk taffeta envelope that looked like interoffice mail, but instead of a limp red string and plastic washers for the closure, it had a copper braid that wound around oxidized silver buttons. It was a striking presentation.

  The car picked me up at three thirty sharp, and I had a different driver. This one was mostly silent aside from asking for my ID, but the trip was smooth and didn't take very long. I was taken through the same gate, and Jones waited patiently for them to send me through the scanner and quickly examine the portfolio. The guards put on gloves before opening it up, which I appreciated, and swiftly flicked through the images to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. This was handed back to me, and Jones escorted me to a parlor on the second floor. It was very traditional looking, with ivory walls, a white ceiling, and gold ornamentation. There was a Persian carpet on the floor, and comfortable-looking upholstered chairs. The tables that were placed along the walls and at the center of the seating group Jones steered me to were also painted gold and ivory. The draperies for the large windows were heavy ivory fabric, gold fringe, and embroidered Jacobean flowers. There was a standard projector on the round center table; I assumed so that the princess could view the images on the crystal plate. Jones and I had barely been seated when the door at the end opened and the crown princess strode through. We both rose, and she smiled and shook my hand.

"I'm so excited to see your work," she said, sitting down. As I passed the green silk envelope over, her mobile face lit up and she examined it carefully.

"This is lovely," she said, smoothing the silk before carefully twisting the braid off the buttons. "Does everybody get all the... snazziness?"

I laughed. "No, I can't get the portfolios and envelopes in sufficient quantities, plus the work I do for publication isn't really in a bells and whistles sort of category. I have to sort of dole out the best stuff to the clients I like the most. Plus it does add to the bottom line, and I like to be affordable to a wide segment of society."

She grinned, then looked thoughtful. "There's a silk industry in France that supplies British fabric wholesalers, and I happen to know there's a small but excellent factory up in the Hebrides that does bespoke work. They could possibly produce the envelopes for you."

"Her Royal Highness takes every opportunity to promote British business," Jones said blandly, picking up the envelope himself. "This really is nice, Lys." He examined it inside and out. "Plus, as a legal resident here, you would have to pay VAT, of course, but not import/export fees or the additional fees that some companies charge overseas customers for the work." I brightened up, and the princess said she'd email me the contact information for the factory. It was a lot more effort than I expected from someone as busy as she.