Page 8 of Silent Secrets

Hadley

Aloudbangingstartles me awake from a deep sleep. I wipe my eyes, trying to get my brain to engage. I take a moment to remember where I am, but before I can freak out, the banging sounds again.

“Hadley,” Grace calls through the door. “It’s time to get up.”

Jumping from the bed, I head over to the door and throw it open. “Sorry—”

I break off at the look on her face, remembering that she’d told me that a queen doesn’t apologize. Yeah, I still don’t think that’s going to be a thing I can deal with. “I wasn’t sure how to set an alarm and kind of just passed out. Let me use the bathroom and then I’ll get dressed.”

“I’ll pick you out something appropriate.” Grace trails behind me as I head for the closet door.

I frown as I glance at the shapeless dress that she’s wearing. I’m not sure that I want her to pick out my clothes. Grace snorts and my eyes shoot up to meet hers.

“I am not a queen, Hadley. I do not dress to draw attention—in fact, I do the opposite. Trust me when I say that I will dress you appropriately for your station.”

I shrug because I don’t even know what’s in the closet, so it would take me forever to pick out something to wear. Not to mention, I have no idea what would be appropriate.

By the time I make it back to the closet, I find an outfit laid out on the counter of the island. Who the hell puts an island in the middle of a closet?

It doesn’t matter right now, does it, Hadley?

I can’t help but roll my eyes at myself because I’ve never been a royal before. Everything about this situation has me on edge, and I don’t know how any of this works. I take a moment to look over the outfit that Grace has laid out and I kind of love it. It’s definitely fancier than anything I’ve ever owned before, but it’s clear that the material is all top quality.

The black pants are high-waisted, fitted as if they’d been tailored to me as they hug from my waist to my hips and over my ass. They’re snug without being tight on my thighs, cutting off at my ankle. The shirt is a deep red crop top that leaves a sliver of bare skin between it and the pants. A fitted black jacket finishes the look and I’m in awe of Grace’s ability to pick out something that I would have picked out on my own, but is also regal at the same time.

Let’s just hope that I’m not expected to dress like this all the time. It’s a sharp look, but I’m not one to dress up at all times. It’s just not me and even if I’m going to be the queen, I’m still me. I can’t lose myself to this. I won’t.

I frown at the heels set out for me but pull them on, realizing that I can’t exactly wear tennis shoes with this outfit. They’re surprisingly comfortable even with the heel—which has to be at least four inches. I don’t even struggle to walk in them and they definitely don’t pinch my feet. I wonder if it’s some kind of Fae magic that makes their clothing and shoes so much more comfortable than it has been for me in the past. Or maybe it has something more to do with the quality of clothing.

There’s jewelry laid out as well, so I take a moment to put that on before looking in the mirror.

Damn, I look good.

“Are you just about ready, Hadley? We’re running behind.” Grace appears at the door, smiling as I turn to face her. “You look just like your mother.”

I clear my throat, glancing away when tears fill Grace’s eyes. It’s obvious that she was close with my birth mother and I just can’t deal with her emotions right now. I didn’t know the woman who birthed me, and while I’d like to learn about her, I can’t exactly miss someone that I’ve never known. Sure, I can miss the idea of her, but I can’t miss her like Grace obviously does.

“I’m good to go.” When I glance back up at Grace, I see the tears are gone and her face is a mask once more. Much better.

“Excellent. Follow me and we’ll get started on the tour. Grab your schedule and make a note of the rooms where you’ll meet the court representatives. I’ll send food to your first lesson, since there’s no time for breakfast.”

I nod, following her out, and grabbing my schedule before we head back out into the palace. The tour takes well over an hour and I’m sure that I won’t remember where anything is—this palace is massive. Luckily, all of my lessons will take place on the first floor, so at least that’ll narrow down where I need to be. Our last stop on the tour is the library, where my first lesson will be.

“Just remember what I told you last night, Hadley. I don’t know if you can trust these men or not. But they’re honor-bound to teach you what you need to know. Listen to what they have to say and learn from them.” I can hear the unspoken ‘but don’t trust them,’ as Grace shoots me a tight smile and then she’s gone.

Great. I get to spend the day with four men that I not only don’t know, but that I probably can’t trust either. What could possibly go wrong?

Knowing that putting off this lesson will hurt no one but me, I push open the door to the library and head inside. My jaw drops when I see the rows upon rows of books. Grace had told me that the library takes up an entire wing of the first floor, but I hadn’t really comprehended what exactly that meant. I’ve never seen so many books in one place. And how the hell am I supposed to find the representative in this place?

I certainly can’t do it from the doorway, though. Forcing myself to focus, I walk further into the room, glancing up and down the aisles as I look for the representative. I don’t even know their name. The schedule only tells me that the lesson starts at ten with the Summer representative and will be on the history of the Fae and Sorlphi.

Oh, joy.

I turn a corner, skidding to a halt when I find one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life leaning against a table, legs crossed at the ankle, as he shoots me a smirk. Though he’s already seen me, I take the time to look him over. I don’t care if he knows that I’m checking him out. There’s no way that a man this hot doesn’t know how hot he is, so I’m sure that he’s used to it.

I can’t say for sure how tall he is, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s over six feet. His shirt is snug against his torso and arms, leaving little to the imagination. He’s muscled without it being too much, like a swimmer. His blonde hair, darker at the roots and fading to a lighter blonde closer to the tips, cuts close on the sides and is longer on top. It is messy, but you can tell that it’s done on purpose. A neat beard graces his face and it makes me wonder what it would feel like between my thighs.

Down, girl!

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