Page 56 of Her Royal Highness
“Thick as thieves in the sexy way or the friend way?” I ask, and Flora’s lips tilt up at the corners.
“Friends only, believe it or not. I think it might have been the first time Seb actually had a girl who was a friend. But even without any sexiness, it was quite the scandal. Glynnis nearly lost her job over it. Nicola went back to California, and we haven’t seen her since. But Glynnis has always wanted her here, learning the ropes. Glynnis’s mum worked for my granddad, her dad worked forhisfather. That family has acted as the right hand to the monarch since... lord, I don’t know, Mary, Queen of Scots, probably? Needless to say, Nicola is less than enthused about it.”
Before I can get any more gossip, there’s a loud gong, and I glance up to see Lord Henry standing in front of a set of double doors at the other end of the hall. “I’m sure there’s some fancy thing I’m supposed to say here,” he calls out, “but instead, I’ll just say dinner is served, so move your arses already.”
Everyone laughs at that, and we make our way to the dining room.
Lady Ellis is as elegant as her husband is charming, and I remember what Flora said about them being scandalous in the ’60s. It’s hard to imagine, looking at them now, but then, as Lady Ellis passes by her husband to lead us all into the dining room, I see his hand briefly pat her backside.
Okay, then, maybe scandal is not so hard to believe.
Flora must have seen it, too, because she leans in and murmurs, “They are such goals.”
I glance over at her. “Are your parents like that?”
She snorts, linking her arm through mine again. She keeps doing that, and it keeps making it harder to remember that I’m not Flora’s date this weekend, just her roommate she’s brought along as a charity case, more or less.
“My parents sleep in separate wings of the palace. Not just rooms. Wings.”
“Isn’t that how all royal people do?” I whisper back, and her eyes meet mine.
“It’s not how I would do,” she says, then she nods toward Lord Henry and Lady Ellis. “It’s definitely not what they do. They have seven kids.”
“Seven?”
Flora nods. “Seven. And they were basically an arranged marriage.”
I wouldn’t mind hearing more about that, but we’re in the dining room now, and Flora drops my arm, moving toward the head of the table. As a guest of honor, she’ll sit up there with Lord Henry, while I’m relegated to somewhere near the middle. Luckily, I’ve got Baby Glynnis—sorry, Nicola—next to me, so at least there’s a familiar face and accent.
“So how are you liking Scotland?” she asks me as a bunch of men in fancy suits bring us plates. I’m so distracted by the ceremony going on around us, I can barely answer her question.
“Um, it’s good,” I say as a tiny plate is placed in front of me. There’s a fish on it, staring up at me with its fishy eyeball, and I swallow hard. “It’s... you know. Scotland,” I say to Nicola, but she’s already smirking slightly, tapping one fingernail against the tiny silver fork to my left.
“That one. Also, you don’t have to eat it. Just poke it a few times while making conversation, no one will notice.”
I don’t even want to dothat—poor fishie—but I pick up the fork Nicole pointed at and give the fish a few half-hearted stabs.
“See?” she says, smiling, and in that second, she really does look a lot like her mom. “You’re a pro.”
I snort at that, glancing up the table to where Flora sits, having a fairly animated conversation with Lord Henry, who’s smiling at her, clearly charmed.
“I will be competing in the amateurs for the rest of time, I’mpretty sure,” I reply, and Nicola grins back at me, turning to her own sad, dead fish.
“I wish I could get back in the amateur division, believe me.”
There are multiple wineglasses around me, but I pick up the one that seems like water and take a cautious sip. Yes, water, okay, good. “How long are you staying here for?” I ask, then wave a hand to amend, “I mean in Scotland in general, not here at the castle.”
Nicola heaves out a sigh that ruffles her glossy bangs. “I leave after the wedding. Mum needs an extra hand, or, let’s be real, an extra pair of eyes.”
I raise my eyebrows at that, but Nicola just waves me off. “It’s boring shop talk. So you’re from Texas, right?”
We chat a little bit about back home—me about Houston, Nicola about San Diego—both of us agreeing that Scotland is gorgeous, but awfully cold for girls used to a sunnier locale. And before I know it, the plates are being cleared, and I’ve done it—survived my first royal dinner.
From there, we move into the ballroom just off the main dining room, and as a string quartet starts up, my stomach sinks. I’d been relieved to get through dinner unscathed, but dancing, too?
I watch the couples moving across the ballroom floor. Lord Henry and Lady Ellis are elegant, and even Nicola acquits herself well, dancing with Sherbet.
And then I scan the people gathered at the edges of the ballroom, looking for a girl who might be Tamsin. I’m not sure why I feel this deep need to see Flora’s ex, but I do. Maybe I’mjust curious as to what kind of girl could dump Flora. Is she a goddess, too?
