Page 14 of Royally Rivalled

“This will be our year—the year you say yes to everything. Theyear you make friends, live a little, and dress spectacularly, okay? And I’m here to help you.”

I longed for Amara’s words to ring true.

“I am so grateful to have you as my life concierge,” I giggled.

“That is what girlfriends are for. I’m honoured. And I will have so much fun corrupting you.”

I beamed. I wanted a ride-or-die, and now, somehow, I thought I had one! I hoped this would be the year—our year!

As I tucked my clothes away in my closet—finally organising my life properly—I saw how far I’d come. I had new threads and a lot of hope. Sorting through a line of dresses I’d brought from home, I grimaced. They felt dowdy now. I hung up the first one before shaking my head.

No, they weren’t for me. Old Astrid liked dresses that hit below the knee. New Astrid wanted body con dresses that hit well above, and she wasn’t about to apologise. She liked reds and blacks and deep purples rather than pastels and florals. Astrid was big, bold, and unapologetic. I was going to live my life now by myownrules.

I still wasn’t entirely sure who Astrid Deschamps was or what she needed to become her fully realised self. What I did know was what I wanted. I wanted to be smart and lauded for my intelligence. I knew I could prove that over the coming semester. I was proud of my academic nature.

What I wanted and needed beyond that was love and acceptance. That meant having solid friends I could rely on and—maybe—a boyfriend who supported me. Jeremy’s interest piqued my curiosity. I didn’t like to admit how badly I wanted social connection. Seeing Alexandra and Rick happy planted this seed of hope that I, too, could find a man who would love and protect me as I deserved—someone like the book boyfriends I grew to love.

ten

PARKER

I arrivedat my solicitor’s office, ready to sign the papers and wrap this up. Instead, he wanted to chat. I was forced to sit in his expensive office at this very well-appointed conference table and drink posh tea out of an uncomfortable but elegant teacup, all so we could sign papers I wish he had just sent in the post.

“You seeing anyone then, Your Grace?”

“No,” I answered.

“Up to anything new?”

“No.”

Can we just get on with it?

“You getting ready to graduate then? Move on?”

“Have to finish my thesis first,” I answered.

“How long until you do that?”

“Well, as long as it takes. It’s not like an exam. It takes time.”

He nodded.

“You got any pets or… anything? Friends?”

Did he assume I was incapable of forming any bonds with anyone?

“No pets, plenty of friends,” I answered. “Now, what is it I need to sign?”

“Ah, the papers. Charity, can you please pass those over to His Grace?”

The assistant nodded, staring at me for too long. Did she fancy me? Was that what that was? Or was it just more derision?

“Sorry, Your Grace. I’ve got something in my eye, I think!”

She passed the papers over before excusing herself.

No, she wasn’t amorous. She was in pain. It seemed I had such an effect on most women these days. The meeting left me feeling worse. It wasn’t the hangover as much as feeling a failure. I headed back to the station, stopping for a pasty to further ease my hangover. My mobile buzzed. It was Ashleigh.

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