Page 37 of Royals
Seb usually smells of expensive cologne and whatever alcohol he’s currently pouring down his throat, but no need to crushIsabel’s dream. “All those things and more,” I tell her, and she closes her eyes, tipping her head back.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Giggling, I bump shoulders with her. “Come on.”
We walk down another hallway, this one less furnished than the rest and colder, our footsteps loud against the stone floor. “So,” Isa asks, crossing her arms over her chest, “how are things? Blending in with the royals and all?”
I shoot her a look. “Haven’t you been keeping up with the blogs?”
Shaking her head, Isa gives me an elbow to the ribs. “No, I’ve beenloyal,” she says. “And honestly, reading about what your best friend is doing felt too... bleurghy.”
“Imagine reading it about your sister,” I reply, and Isa stops, her sneakers squeaking a little.
“I get it now,” she says, then gestures around us. “Why you were so weirded out by all this.” And then she flashes me a classic Isabel Smile, all dimples and shiny teeth.
“It’s still kind of cool, though.”
And the thing is, she’s not wrong. Itiskind of cool. I don’t mind the fancy cars and the nice clothes. I’m never going to like a Pimm’s Cup, but the rest of it? It’s... not that bad.
I don’t know how to tell Isabel all that, though, so I just shrug. “It has its moments.”
Skipping slightly, she takes my wrist and gives me a little shake. “Like us getting to see and possibly meet and, in my case, marry Declan Shield this fall.”
Laughing, I shake her off. “Wait, I thought you were all about Seb.”
Isabel gives a shrug and flips her hair over her shoulder. “I can handle both,” she says, lifting her nose in the air, and we’re still laughing as we turn the corner out of the hallway.
We’re just coming back down the stairs when I hear the sound of someone coming up. Taking Isabel’s wrist, I pull us to one side, expecting to see a butler or one of the 9,000 secretaries the royal family seems to have wandering around. But instead, I catch sight of a glint of auburn hair, and before I know it, Seb is rounding the curve of the stairwell.
Crap.
He’s not as well dressed as he was the first time I saw him—it’s jeans and a henley today—but that doesn’t stop Isabel from freezing in place, her free hand coming up to grab the fingers I have locked around her wrist.
Seb comes to a sudden stop, looking at us standing there and clearly noticing—and liking—the look on Isabel’s face.
Great.
“Ah, Daisy,” he says, but his eyes are still on Isabel. “I didn’t know you were staying at the palace.”
“I’m not,” I tell him, inching down a step, pulling Isabel behind me. “I was just showing my friend around. Isabel, this is—”
“Iknowwhoheis,” Isa says, all in a rush, and I fight the urge to groan. Of course. Of course we’d run into Seb the day Isabel has just gotten her heart splattered by her boyfriend, and of course Seb would be looking both extremely handsome and not as intimidatingly princely as usual, and oh, this is bad. This is really bad.
Especially because Seb begins to bloom under her obvious smitten-ness.
“Isabel,” he repeats, and then he reaches out and takes her hand. Doesn’t shake it (doesn’t kiss it, either, thank god), but just holds it, his blue eyes bright, his smile a winning combination of charm and mischief. I’ve seen it on him before. It’s a look that says, “Yes, whatever happens with us will probably be a bad idea, but won’t it be fun?”
And I am not here for it.
“So we were just leaving,” I tell him, fighting the urge to pull Isa’s hand from his.
But Seb isn’t letting go, and he’s also not looking at me. “Where were you headed?” he asks her.
She’s still glamoured, pretty much, smiling down at him there on the lower step, so I sigh, roll my eyes, and say, “Museums. Bookstores. Other respectable establishments.”
Seb’s grin deepens. “Well, that’s no fun at all,” he all but purrs, and oh my gooooddddddd, how is Isa not seeing this for the line it is?
Because her boyfriend has broken her heart, you idiot,I remind myself,and now the most eligible teenage boy in the world is talking to her and holding her hand and giving her the full court press.
