Page 34 of Royals
Ellie doesn’t look nearly as amused, sighing a bit as she steps closer to me, and the two of us follow Glynnis out of the room.
“Are we going to the—” I whisper, but Ellie cuts me off with one lifted hand.
“Hush.”
“You don’t even know what I was going ask.”
We’re going down some stairs now, big, wide stone ones with shallow grooves in the center from hundreds of years’ worth of feet.
“You were going to make a joke about dungeons or drawing and quartering. Something weird. Something Dad would say.”
“Both offensive and also kind of true,” I concede.
We pass under several portraits of Alex’s ancestors and finally come to a set of double doors carved with unicorns.
One of my favorite things about Scotland so far is that the unicorn is their national animal. You really can’t hate a country where that’s the case.
The doors open up into a well-lit room that’s a lot more spartan than the other rooms I’ve seen in the castle so far. There aren’t little knickknacks resting on every available surface, and there’s only one sofa and two chairs as opposed to a whole showroom floor’s worth of furniture.
One wall is completely lined with mirrors, and I catch a glimpse of myself, my hair very bright in this room that’s mostly gray and white.
And then I see the table against the window, clothes draped across it.
Skirts, sweaters, slacks, a few dresses that come kind of close to 1950s housewife...
“Oh my god,” I murmur. “Makeover montage.”
“What?” Ellie asks, walking over to the table.
But it’s Glynnis I turn to. “Makeover montage, right? This is the part where you give me a bunch of conservative clothes, maybe fix my hair, some upbeat song plays, and at the end, I’m gonna look at myself in this mirror”—I walk to the back of the room, reaching out to touch the glass and widening my eyes, lips parting—“and I say something like, ‘Is that... me?’ And then everyone claps and tells me I look great, and Idolook great, but deep inside, I’m afraid something within me has irrevocably changed.”
I turn, and Glynnis and Ellie both stare at me.
“Have neither of you ever seen movies?” I ask, putting a hand on one hip.
“It’s just new clothes, Daisy,” Ellie finally says, and I roll my eyes, going to stand next to her.
“You’re exactly zero fun,” I tell her, my eyes scanning over the clothes lined up for me.
They’re all... fine, really. Boring colors, mostly, definitely Ellie Wear, but nothing too terrible.
Ellie is flipping through a catalog Glynnis has left lying on the table, and she pauses on a page with several ballgowns on it. “Oooh,” I say, pointing at one that seems to be a mix of tartan patterns, all purple and green and black. The skirt is wide and floofy, and a narrow green ribbon belt separates it from the purple strapless top, and I tap the page. “Can I get one of these?”
Glynnis looks over Ellie’s shoulder and makes a tutting sound. “You may have an occasion to wear a ballgown, but that one is a bit... out there.”
“I like out there,” I say, but Ellie is already closing the book and handing me a gray cardigan.
“Go try this on,” she says, nodding toward a screen set up in the corner, and I frown, taking the sweater from her.
“You’re less than zero fun,” I tell her.
“Something thatshouldbe fun is your friend Isabel’s visit,” Glynnis calls out as I step behind the screen and I poke my head out the side.
“Is that all set up? Isa coming, the Ash Bentley signing...”
Gathering up more clothes from the table, Glynnis nods. “She’ll be here the day after tomorrow, just in time for the signing.” Then she flashes that predatory smile at me.
“Won’t it be nice to surprise her with your new look?”
