I wrap my legs around his waist, as always amazed at his strength. I grip his shoulders and hug him while peppering tiny kisses along his collarbone.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You don’t need to thank me, Lilly,” he says softly, now rubbing my back with his hand.
“I know that wasn’t on your schedule this morning, but I needed it. I needed that connection.” I lean away to look him in the eyes. “Waking up without you was sad. Today will be overwhelming, and I needed that quiet moment with you first.”
“I’m yours, love. Whenever you want me.”
“Promise?”
He nods. “I promise.” And then he leans in and offers me a kiss, which I greedily take.
“I love you,” I whisper when our foreheads connect.
“I love you, Lilly,” he says softly, and even though there is so much unknown coming my way, I know one thing is for sure—this man is mine, and I can do anything with him at my side.
“Hi.” I wave to the kitchen staff. “It’s so great to meet you. And can I just say, it smells fantastic in here. I don’t know what you’re cooking, but my stomach is growling.” They chuckle.
It’s been a day full of hellos and introductions. We first took a more extensive tour of the palace. I even got to go into the crown room, which was immaculate. So much history, so many jewels, a total robber’s dream. I was assured that the security in the crown room was next level, and not even a Hollywood screenwriter could devise a way to steal anything from the room.
And in every part of the palace we toured, staff lined up to say hello. I was educated on their jobs, which, wow, there are so many specific things that need to be done around the palace that I had no clue about. One person, in particular, is in charge of vacuuming the west wing carpets daily.
Every.
Freaking.
Day.
“Lunch is almost ready,” Keller says and then presses his hand to my lower back, ushering me toward the exit.
“It was so nice seeing all of you.” I wave again. “Thank you all for everything you do.”
They also wave, a bunch of very friendly people, and once we’re in the hallway, I turn to Keller and ask, “Do you think they liked me?”
“You’ve asked me that every time after you’ve met someone. When are you going to realize you’re a likeable person?”
“Not for a while. I’m an outsider coming in, so I can’t be their favorite.”
“You’re also saving this country from falling under the reign of another country, so I don’t think they care where you’re from, as long as you have Strom blood.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“Ah, Lilija, there you are,” Queen Katla says from the other side of the hall. “I’m sure you’ve had a busy day so far, but would you mind joining me for some tea sandwiches and fresh fruit in my stateroom? I’d love to have a chance to speak with you on a more personal level.”
“Of course,” I say as I look up at Keller. “That would be fine, right?”
He smiles. “Of course. We’re finished with this portion of our tour. Does the kitchen staff know of your dining arrangements, or shall I inform them for you?”
“They’re aware. Thank you, Keller.” Queen Katla comes up to me and loops her arm through mine. “Right this way, my dear.”
Weathered but beautiful, Queen Katla is not the typical grandma I would’ve envisioned. You know, white hair with a short perm, possibly some Alfred Dunner clothes decorated with birdhouses and styled in a dusty blue. That’s not Katla at all. She’s dignified. Refined, with her thick, salt-and-pepper locks that are styled in a blowout and pinned back with a jewel clip. Her makeup is light and very subtle, but her bright eyes are highlighted with mascara, her cheeks are pinched with blush, and her lipstick is pristinely painted across her lips. Her style reflects what Emily Gilmore would wear on a random Tuesday—comfortable, but rich.
And she smells divine.
“Thank you for allowing me to steal you away for lunch. I know Keller has you on a tight schedule, but I wanted to speak with you.”
“Of course. I’m here for whoever needs me.”
We walk up a flight of stairs to the right, where large, stately doors part as we approach. Queen Katla walks me right through the doors, and then the footmen close them behind us, the sound of birds chirping outside the window the only noise filtering through the vast room.
Decorated in a beautiful light blue, her stateroom is like all the others in the palace. Sweeping, curtained windows offer soft contrast to the high ceilings, which are decorated with intricate, gold design work. Cream carpet runs the length of the room, with soft, cream-colored furniture dotted throughout. A fireplace sits to the left, and the mantlepiece is adorned with picture frames of who I can only assume are her children. My aunt and uncles.