Page 20 of Royal Rising

Does she get Mathias too?

She drains her glass and sets it on the bar. “Good drink,” she says to Tyler. “Give the lime a squeeze before you drop it in, everyone likes extra lime. I think I’ll head up,” she adds to me but is looking at Mathias.

Being able to swing a couple of punches got rid of some of the tension, but that knot in my stomach tightened even more with the thought of Edie inviting Mathias upstairs to her apartment.

“Thank you very much for dinner,” she tells him. “If you’re here for a few more days, maybe we can do it again.”

And then I click to what just happened. Edie has just dismissed Mathias in front of everyone and his surprised expression sours, but he’s too polite to say anything.

I feel like I’ve just hit a three-run homer. I wave as Edie leads Mathias out through the kitchen.

“Did you stage that fight to ruin her night?” Fenella asks in a lazy voice. She’s still there at the bar, taking in everything with those eyes.

I set down my glass with a bit more force than necessary. “What?” I growl. “Her night wasn’t ruined.”

Fenella sighs, rolling the delicate stem of her glass between her fingers. “Are you always this observant?”

“I observe.”

“She was wearing a dress that cost at least two hundred dollars, wearing shoes that kill your calves because you have to tiptoe in them. Neither of those things are a big deal to me, but I suspect they’re not part of her usual wardrobe. Plus, the two of them came in through the kitchen, which means they were probably in the alley and I know for a fact that’s how you get to her apartment.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you getting in the middle of that fight ruined her night. Youinterruptedher, Your Highness.”

“I don’t know what they were doing,” I mutter. “I didn’t tell her to come in.”

“Right.”

“Right,” I echo. I didn’t ruin anything. It’s not my fault Jubblie Mark took that moment to curse Ken McKibbon, or that Ken—who has an even worse temper than me or his cousin Jonathan—would throw the first punch.

Fenella smirks and turns those purple eyes on me. “Still want to take me out tomorrow?”

What does that have to do with anything? “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I want to take you out tomorrow,” I say, enunciating each word.

“Okay then.” Fenella slurps up the rest of her drink. “You asked for it.”

7

Edie

Iwasn’t sure howthe night would end but I did not see that coming.

After Mathias says goodnight—no kissing this time—I head upstairs to my apartment. I hang up the dress, wipe off the makeup and pull on the battered sweatshirt and old gym shorts I sleep in and then crawl into bed.

Ernie climbs in after me, settling at my side.

It’s not long before the rain starts driving against my window as hard as hailstones, the wind whistling through the cracks. The storm will empty the bar quicker than ringing the last-call bell can, and Kalle will be able to close early.

I lie awake in my dark bedroom and wait for Kalle’s light to come on.

His apartment next door is twice the size of mine and lacks the curry scent that drifts up from the Indian place below, but both of us agree mine is much more comfortable. Our bedrooms are in the same spot, the windows both looking over the alley.

Kalle got into a fight tonight.

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