Throat tight, I say, “Hi, Theo.”
“Hi, Lilija. Tell me, how are you liking Torskethorpe so far?”
“Well, it’s colder than I expected,” I say.
He chuckles and then coughs, a deep, almost scary cough. He holds his fist up to his mouth and says, “Excuse me. Yes, I’m sure it’s colder than you were thinking it would be. High fifties is a nice summer day for us, but probably a chilly day for you.”
“Just a little,” I answer nervously. “I’m sorry, this is all kind of strange to me. I didn’t think my mom had family, let alone . . . royal family. It feels all very unbelievable.”
“Yes, I can see how that might be hard to believe, but trust me, my dear—” He coughs heavily. “It is quite true.”
My head tilted to the side, I ask, “Are you . . . are you sick?”
I can see his eyes flit to someone else in the room before he focuses back on the screen.
“Well, I guess we should be honest with you now, shouldn’t we?” He clears his throat. “I trust Keller can explain more once I get off this call, but the reason we brought you out here is that you, Lilija, are next in line for the throne.”
What?
I glance at Keller, who nods, and then I look back at the computer, a laugh bubbling out of me. “Oh, is that right?” I cross one leg over the other. “So, what am I? Tenth? Twelfth in line?”
“First,” he answers, causing my jaw to hit the ground.
“First?” I blink a few times. “First, as in . . .”
“As in, if I pass away, and your uncle Sveinn doesn’t return to Torskethorpe, which we’re sure he won’t, you are the rightful owner of the crown.”
I can’t help it, I let out the loudest guffaw ever guffawed. It blows back Keller’s blond hair, whipping it over his forehead. It moves a vase of fake flowers, disrupting the well-thought-out, put-together arrangement. The guffaw is so obnoxious that it actually shakes the sheer rubble we’re sitting on.
“This is a good one.” I clap. “Like, really good, you guys. Who put you up to this? Was it Timmy Tuna? I mean, I know I pranked him last month by tying his shoelaces together while he was napping and then scaring him with a blowhorn, but come on, this . . . this is next-level.” I lean closer to the computer. “Is that a green screen behind you? I can’t tell. Are you all hired actors? How much was the flight up here? I know Timmy is from a rich family, you know, tuna really does sell, but I didn’t think he would do something this crazy. And he even created the Internet searches, too? This is crazy. I mean, kind of cruel to trick me with a family I always wanted, but I have to applaud the commitment.”
“Lilija—”
“And that name, so odd that you’re calling me by my real name. No one ever called me that besides my mother. I don’t think Timmy even knows that . . .”
“This isn’t a prank, this is real and I don’t have much time to talk, but you are at Harrogate for a reason. Keller can explain the rest.” He coughs a few times, his eyes squeezing shut. “But, please, listen to him.” Growing incredibly serious, he says, “Keller will be handing you a letter, so please read it, Lilija. You’re my only hope.”
And before I can say one more thing, he shuts the computer, blacking out the screen.
Uh, what is happening?
You’re my only hope? Who is he, Princess Leia?
Keller picks up his computer and sets it on his lap. “We should start with family history and what’s put you into this position,” Keller says, getting right down to business.
“Wait, hold on.” I hold up my hand as I stand from the couch. “Are you just going to ignore the fact that a huge bomb was dropped on me?”
“No, I was going to go into detail as to how this all happened.”
“Like a robot,” I shout at him. “Can’t you for a second realize that this all might be very weird and very strange for me and that I might need a goddamn second to process it?”
Keller leans back on the couch. “How much time do you need?”
“Uh, I don’t know, Keller, a fortnight?”
“Do you even know what amount of time that equates to?”
“No,” I yell before fleeing the main living space and storming up the stairs to my bedroom. I attempt to shut the door, but all it does is groan against my push.
There’s no use.
I flop on my bed and drape my arm over my eyes.
A royal.
Not just a royal, but the next in line to the throne.