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Royally Not Ready(47)

Author:Meghan Quinn

But when I say she’s off limits, I mean it.

Because if she decides to say yes and become the goddamn queen of Torskethorpe, then I have absolutely zero right to her. She can never be mine. And even though I want her, I have to keep this boundary in place. There is no other option for me.

With all that being said, I thought about this last week—and the hell I’ve put us both through—and believed a change of heart was necessary regarding how I teach her. She’s right, not every day has to be spent in the room. I can make it more fun, and if I want her to make it through the training, I do need to attempt to create a pleasant learning experience. And, my ultimate goal is to make her love Torskethorpe. So she’ll stay.

Which means, I need to fucking lighten up a bit.

“Okay, I’m dressed,” Lilly says, disrupting my thoughts.

Decked out in a pair of navy-blue joggers and a gray hooded sweatshirt that’s far too big for her body, she walks up to me, arms extended, a smile on her face. That smile, fuck, playful yet placid. It’s the pinnacle of joy.

“Are you ready?” she asks, hopping around.

“Are you going to calm down?”

“No.” She smiles even brighter.

Sighing, I turn her toward the stairs of the castle and lead her up to a small door on the left.

“Are we hanging out in a linen closet?”

I push the door open and step to the side, revealing a narrow staircase.

She pokes her head in. “Wait, this isn’t a linen closet?” She looks over her shoulder. “Is this a secret passageway?”

“Secret would mean that it would be hidden, and this door is plain as day, out in the open.”

“Disguising itself as a linen closet.”

“Do you truly believe an eighteenth-century castle would have a linen closet?” I ask.

“I don’t know what people did with their closets back then.”

“If a royal needed a towel or linen, they wouldn’t fetch it from the nearest closet. A servant would bring it to them from the servant quarters.”

“Huh, I guess that makes sense. So, then, where does this lead to?”

“The roof,” I answer as I move past her and turn my body to shimmy up the narrow, curved staircase.

“Oh my God, you’re too big for the staircase. Are you going to get wedged in?”

“No, I was up here earlier. It’s just tight.” I reach out and take her hand in mine. “Mind the steps, they’re slippery.”

Her fingers curl around my hand, indenting into my skin as we make our way up toward the hatch. Still holding on to her tightly, I unlock the hatch and then push it open, lighting up the narrow hallway with the light from the never-setting sun.

When I reach the roof, I bend down and take both of her hands, helping her up until she reaches the top with me. She straightens up, and that damn smile of hers grows again as she takes in the view.

From the top of the castle, the grassy landscape and blue ocean feel endless. Fjords are cratered into the coastline, creating a jagged appearance to the black rocks, and wisps of foam stretch infinitely along the heavy sea waves. And despite it being summer, there’s still a chill in the air, but fuck is it breathtaking.

“Oh my God, it’s gorgeous up here. I feel like you can see for miles.”

“You can,” I say as I press my hand to her lower back and guide her to where I set up a blanket and some pillows.

She pauses when she sees the laid-out fur blanket and the plethora of oversized throw pillows Lara helped me collect. When she faces me, I’m met with a quizzical brow tugging above her glittering eye. “My, my, my . . . Fitzy, what is this? It looks awfully romantic if you ask me.”

“It’s not,” I answer, wanting to make that abundantly clear. “The castle has nothing else that’s comfortable to sit on that would fit up the staircase.”

“Okay.” She winks. “Sure.”

Grumbling under my breath, I say, “It’s fucking true,” as we walk over to the blanket and pillows and take a seat.

I hand her a spare blanket as she gets comfortable. “In case you get cold.”

“Thank you.” She rests it over her lap. “So, what are we doing up here if this isn’t a romantic interlude?”

It’s not.

Remember, not going there.

“I wanted to show you the land, the best way I could without driving.”

She offers me a genuine smile. “Now this is what I’m talking about.” Hands clasped, she asks, “Where do we start?”

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