Page 61 of Her Royal Highness

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“I’m sorry,” I say. “Trust me, I know how awful that feels.”

“Dastardly Jude,” Flora says in response, and I can’t help but giggle a little.

“The very same. But if it’s any consolation, it’s totally Tamsin’s loss.”

Flora looks over at me, and it might just be a remnant of the cold, but I could swear there’s a blush high on her cheekbones. “It is, isn’t it?” she says at last, and when we head upstairs to our rooms, I don’t think anything of slipping my arm through hers again.

CHAPTER29

When we get back from Skye, Dr. McKee is waiting for us in the front hall. I wonder if she’s going to ask us about our trip or maybe hit up Flora for information on Lord Henry—the school is always on the lookout for wealthy donors, Saks says—but instead, she says, “Welcome home, ladies. I hope you had a lovely time on Skye. One of my favorite places in Scotland.”

“It was gorgeous,” I say, meaning it, and Dr. McKee gives me what I think is a genuine smile.

Then she says, “In your absence, we’ve decided to make a few changes. Miss Quint, for the rest of the school year, you’ll be rooming with Miss Worthington. Miss Baird, Miss Worthington’s roommate, Miss Graham, will be taking Miss Quint’s place in your room.”

We stand there in the hall, not saying anything for a beat, and I have this horrible, jolting thought that Dr. McKee heard about us dancing at Skye. That she somehowknowsthat it’slike the ground has shifted underneath me and Flora just the tiniest bit.

It makes me want to squirm with embarrassment, and I don’t even look over at Flora when she says, “For heaven’s sake, why? Quint and I were just getting to be friends. Isn’t that the point of being roommates?”

Dr. McKee’s smile tightens just a bit. “The point of being roommates is learning how to share space with other people in a congenial and respectful manner. Friendships are a lovely bonus, but not the point, no.”

This still feels weird to me, and I think Flora might keep fighting, but instead, after another long pause, she only shrugs. “Fine,” she says, and then she turns to me.

“Well.”

“Well,” I echo, very aware of Dr. McKee watching us.

“Suppose I’ll see you in class, Quint.”

“Yeah, same,” I reply, and I wonder if we’re supposed to shake hands or something.

But Flora just turns, heading up the stairs with her bag. When she’s out of sight, to my surprise, Dr. McKee reaches out and rests a hand on my shoulder.

“This is for the best, Miss Quint, I assure you. And this decision is not a reflection of your behavior at all, but more a... let’s say a precautionary measure.”

“Against what?” I ask, my fingers numb around the handle of my duffel bag.

“I told you,” she says. “You need to be careful in choosing friends here at Gregorstoun. Miss Baird is a lovely person, andher life is very glamorous indeed, but you never struck me as the person to get her head turned by that. It’s part of why you were assigned to be her roommate in the first place. And now...”

Cheeks hot, I heft my bag a little higher. “And now my head seems turned?”

“Flora’s mother thought it might be better for her to live with someone who’s not quite as attached to her,” Dr. McKee says, and okay, then. So that’s the real answer—this isn’t just a school decision, it’s basically a royal decree.

I remember Flora saying her mom thought her liking girls was a phase. Is that what this is about?

And if it is, what does that mean?

Moving rooms doesn’t take nearly as long as I think it will. That’s the deal we make, that I’ll go to Sakshi’s room while Elisabeth moves into Flora’s, and as I stack up the last of my books, Flora sits on the edge of her bed, watching me.

“She’s an actual child, you know. What’s-her-name. Lady McHorseyHorse.”

“We’re not supposed to use titles here,” I reply, “so it’s Miss McHorseyHorse.”

Flora snorts in response, and I slide a bookmark into the latest Finnigan Sparks novel before adding it to my stack. “Upside, you won’t have to look at so many rocks anymore, probably. Just plastic horses.”

“I like rocks,” Flora says, and I look over at her, eyebrows raised.

“You do not,” I say, and she flicks her hair over one shoulder.