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Royally Not Ready(112)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Do they think I’m going to fail?” I ask, insecurity crawling up the back of my neck.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s the case at all.” She looks to the side and says, “I don’t want you to feel bad about what I’m going to say, okay? But I think it has something to do with Keller’s involvement with you.”

“As in . . . us coupling?”

“Yes,” she answers. “I think Brimar is worried that Keller might scare you away, you know, if something ever happens between the two of you.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I say. “I know it’s easy for me to say because I’m the one feeling it, but what I have with Keller is so far removed from the crown, it’s more on a primitive level. Just me and him, nothing else.”

“I can understand that. When Brimar and I first started dating, I knew Keller had reservations about it, especially since we’re on the same security team. We never want anything interfering with the job.”

“Ah, I see what you mean,” I say. “Because the job always comes first.”

“Unfortunately, it does, for everyone involved.” She grows even more serious when she says, “Something you need to remember when you step foot in Strombly—it has a rich history of sovereigns who’ve always put the crown ahead of everything else. I know King Theo has reservations about doing so. He blames his responsibilities and his tunnel vision when it comes to the country on his inability to have raised his children to appreciate the roles they were born into, to have the same loyalty that someone like Keller has, who would do anything in his power to serve the country. So, even though you need to go into this knowing, no matter what, the crown always comes first, I think you need to remember there’s life outside of the crown, and if you don’t nurture it, everything can tumble to the ground.”

I place my hand on Lara’s and say, “That’s probably some of the best advice I’ve gotten. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I want to see you succeed. There’ll be people in the public who want nothing more than the girl from Miami to fail, and they’ll be vocal about it. But just know, the core people who are surrounding you, they aren’t waiting for you to fail, they’re excited to watch you succeed.”

My emotions get the better of me as I say, “Thank you, Lara. That truly means a lot to me.”

“Well, you mean a lot to us.”

“Are you ready?” I ask Keller, who still seems to be in a weird mood.

“Ready for what?” he asks as he stops in the middle of the living room. He’s been up in his bedroom all day working on the welcoming and preparing the staff, so much so that I haven’t seen him. And the way his hair is all rumpled from his hands running through it, and the stiff set to his shoulders . . . it makes me want to loosen him up in all the right ways.

“Two things.” I hold up my fingers. “Thing one, I have some tricks to show you that I’ve learned. And thing two, I made something for you.”

His eyes narrow skeptically. “Did you finish your fish?”

“I did.” I gesture toward the windowsill. “Right over there, in all its glory, my Torg fish. Compliments will be accepted.”

He walks to the windowsill, picks up the fish, and examines it. I spent a great deal of time carving out the scales, which he told me I didn’t have to do since I was a beginner, but I wanted to. And then I painted only the head and the tail in a pale blue. I put a clear coat over the whole thing and—voilà—a fish!

“You carved the scales.”

“I did.” I rock on my heels. “Impressed, aren’t you?”

“I am. Very impressed. You did great, Lilly,” he says softly. “I only wish I could keep it for myself.”

“Funny that you bring that up,” I say as Lara chuckles behind me.

Keller turns to face us, confusion on his brow. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I told you I made you something. And this . . . this is all for you. Hold out your hands and close your eyes.”

Still eyeing me skeptically, he does as told, and that’s when I take the mini boob, no bigger than a golf ball, out of my pocket and set it on his palms. Hands clasped together in glee, I say, “Okay, open your eyes.”

His eyes flutter open and zero in on the mini boob in his hands with its . . . adornment. Then they flash up to mine as he clutches his long fingers around it.