Page 5 of Royally Rivalled

Jeremy Morgan saluted me playfully. “Hello, Your Grace.”

He was the self-assured prat I loved to hate—also Niall’s acquaintance. They weren’t best mates but ran in the same social circles. Jeremy’s father was favoured to win the next Tory leadership contest. If you could even call it avote. I’d call it a popularity contest. Despite both being born with silver—if not platinum—spoons, Jeremy and I couldn’t have been more different. He was the self-assured jock who cheated off kids in sixth-form maths.

“You back and ready to go?” Jeremy asked.

“You ready to get down to actual work?” I played it like a joke.

It wasn’t. I found his work and work ethic equally unimpressive.

“You know it. Have you seen the girls up the road?” Jeremy asked.

“No. I’ve been focused on my thesis research.”

“And Bianca Linder?”

I glared at Niall. I didn’t need his inquiries.

“Oh, you’re still chasing her?”

Bianca was a friend—another student in the program. She was clever, kind, and beautiful. While I adored her cute German accent, she forgot I existed outside a seminar room. Niall said I needed to make more of an effort, but I felt like I was already doing enough. Doing more felt uncomfortable and desperate.

I changed the subject. “What is notable about these girls?”

“They’re fit as fuck,” Jeremy said. “I ran into one of them. Word on the street is that her housemate is that princess, and she’s on the accelerated course in politics.”

“One of your comrades?” Niall asked.

I disagreed vehemently. “No. It’s apples to oranges. The accelerated Master’s students are the children of wealthy people in a hurry to graduate and move into industry or politics. I doubt I will see her in any methods courses. Students like that loathe maths and do anything to avoid them.”

“I don’t care if she can do maths as long as she’s fit.”

Jeremy wouldn’t care. He wasn’t in this for a real connection.

“You think they’re coming to the party?” Niall asked.

“What party?” I asked.

“Bianca’s mate is throwing something,” Niall answered. “I’ve got to go to London. Mum is guilting us to go to the theatre.”

“Sucks to be you,” Jeremy said.

I usually wouldn’t, but there was a chance to speak with Bianca again. I wouldn’t miss it. I might not have been lucky to this point, but Niall was right. I couldn’t despair yet.

“I’ll go,” I agreed.

five

ASTRID

I was puttingmy most beloved books on their shelf when I received a text from someone I preferred to ignore.

Shit Guitarist

U alrite?

I tossed my phone on the bed, ignoring the barely decipherable text babble.

Instead, I focused on the shelves of beautiful colourful spines and limited editions that took up about half my suitcases. I had yet to unpack my clothes, but my books needed a place to live. I’d spent the weekend looking for an antique shelf to display them on. Mission accomplished. It was time to put my new shelf to good use.

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