Page 88 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

“Well, stop it.”

“Okay,” I say. But I can’t. The pollen is out; I can feel it tickling my nose. We should go inside soon, before it gets into his frail lungs and he starts hacking—

“The guards inside are complete morons, by the way,” Oscar huffs.

I can’t help but grin. “Why’s that?”

“One of them tried to convince me a coat of arms was from the 1600s. It was eighteenth century at best.”

I chuckle and knock my leg against one of his wheels. “He probably didn’t know. Not everyone is a huge history geek.”

“I don’t see why not,” he sighs. He pauses a moment before he says, “This palace… it’s remarkable.”

“Yeah,” I say. There’s a bitter nagging nibbling the edge of my heart. “It’s not bad.”

“What’s that tone of voice?” Oscar says, twisting his chair back so he can face me properly.

“It’s nothing,” I say, but there’s no use hiding from Oscar. He sees right through me.

“You’re thinking about leaving, aren’t you?”

“You know me,” I say. “Itchy feet.”

Oscar’s eyebrows furrow together. I’ve spent so much of my life taking care of him, sometimes it’s hard to remember that he’s the older sibling. When he gets that serious look and pulls the big-brother card, however, I shut up. “Rory… seeing Buckingham Palace like this… it’s not something I ever thought I’d see for myself. I can touch these walls here. The fountain.” He reaches forward and sets his hand palm reverently down on the stone. “Rough edges. Sun-warm. It’s… wonderful.”

“Yeah. It is.”

His eyes lift to me. “You’ve shown me so much. I’ve seen the world through your eyes. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

A knot tangles up in my throat. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

“I do have one more thing to ask of you.”

“What is it?” I ask quickly. “Anything. Name it.”

“Put roots down, Ror,” he says. “Here. Home. Anywhere. Wherever you want to be. It’s time to stop living for me and start living for yourself.”

My vision blurs. I try to be strong for him, I don’t want him to see me cry, but it’s dangerously hard to hold back. “Otter… it’s not like that…”

“What is it like?” he asks. “You like them, don’t you? Roland and Ben.”

I nod. My head feels heavy on my neck. “I love them.”

“Good. They seem like good guys. Didn’t get much out of Ben—he’s something of a steel trap. Prince Roland, though… we had a lot to talk about. Hermit stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”

Despite my tears threatening to spill over, I bark a laugh at that. He always manages to make me laugh. It gives me a chance to move my hand to my face and wipe my eyes. “How do you do that?” I ask.

Oscar grins. “It’s the terrible March sense of humor, I imagine.”

“Make room, March.” I leap off the fountain. “I’m coming in.” I wind my arms around him, hugging him close. He wraps his arms around me and cradles me in his chair. We sit here for a moment, curled up together, just enjoying being close to each other.

Finally, he coughs lamely. “Pollen,” he says, which is his way of asking for space. He can only take too much touch. I climb back up to my feet. With that, he grabs his wheels and starts rolling himself backward up the walkway, forcing me to pick up my pace to keep up with him. “Come on. Let’s go back in. I’ve got tour guides to educate before tomorrow. Who knows? Maybe they’ll hire me. Tours on Wheels… it has a ring to it.”

Once we’re inside, Oscar makes good on his promise and detours to explore the rest of the palace. I walk beside him for a while, not really taking in the information he’s giving me, just soaking in the cadence of his voice.

When we get to the sitting room, we run into Roland and Ben. The lion and the wolf. They’re spread out on the pale, gold-rimmed chaise. Roland has his head in Ben’s lap, but they both turn their gazes up at us when we peek in the doorway.

“Would you mind watching over my sister for a bit?” Oscar says suddenly. “She’s slowing me down.”

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