Royally Not Ready(23)

Lilly winces. “Knowing my mother, she didn’t take that well.”

“She didn’t. And one spring morning, she told King Theo that she was leaving to explore, and he could either support her or lose her forever. He went behind Queen Katla’s back and supported her, because even though King Theo knows the fate of the country rests in his hands, he never put it first. He always put his family ahead of everything else.”

“That’s why Mom sent him pictures and letters.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“So . . . he let her have the life she wanted, sacrificing himself for the sake of her happiness. This means the country must really be in peril if he’s asking me to drop the life I love and take on this complex responsibility.”

“Very much in trouble. But you can’t base your decision on the consequences.” She gets it. Even though it still pains me that I spoke out of turn, I know I did the right thing, because there is clarity in her eyes now. Knowing dinner must be ready, I stand from the bed. “You must base your decision on what’s best for you and you alone, Lilly.” I walk over to her door and place my hand on the doorframe. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

She shakes her head as she crawls back onto the bed and slips her legs under the blankets. “No, I’m not very hungry at the moment, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be great company either. Please apologize to Brimar for me.” I nod and start to walk away when I hear her call out, “Keller?”

“Yes?” I ask, looking over my shoulder.

“I know that was hard for you, but thank you for telling me. It means a lot.”

I offer her a curt nod and continue down the stairs, where I pause at the landing. My hands twist the wood of the banister as an uneasy feeling flips through my chest, an unrelenting grip attempting to squeeze the air out of my lungs. Realization hits me.

That was private information.

Kept secretly in the vault of undisclosed royal history.

And yet, I so freely offered it to Lilly.

I know the reason why I did it, but I barely blinked before offering it up.

That’s unlike me. I’m a steel trap of information. Growing up in the palace, you learn quickly that the royal family respects you more if you’re able to refuse to disclose valuable information. My parents instilled in me that earning their respect was the highest of honors. So, I became a vault over the years, and it’s one of the main reasons I’m the private secretary to the King of Torskethorpe, because I’m trustworthy.

But Lilly, she just . . . fuck, she pulled that information out of me with one bat of her eyelashes, with one pleading stare. If she can easily pull that out of me, what else can she cause me to divulge?

And what kind of hold does this woman I barely know already have on me?





Chapter Seven





LILLY





Stomach growling, I quietly make my way out of my room and to the stairs that I know creak and crack with every step.

After Keller left my room, I lay in my bed and stared up at the ceiling, hoping for any sort of sign. Anything that would help me make this monumental, life-changing decision. I considered texting Timmy, now that my phone is connected to the Internet, but I wasn’t sure he was the right person to talk to. Not because he wouldn’t give me good advice, but because I’m not sure how classified this information is. Also, I’m not sure he would quite understand. Not sure anyone would understand the position I’m in.

Coming up short, with no answers, I closed my eyes and took a nap. Unfortunately, that nap was at dinner time, and now that I’m awake at one in the morning with a stomach needing food, I’m desperate to make it to the kitchen.

Gripping the banister, I lean over it and lift my feet up, precariously balancing on the wood, and shimmy myself down so I avoid making the steps creak. How I plan on getting back up, I have no idea, but I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.

It takes some great effort on my end to not tip over to my death, especially with a fresh batch of sore abs—thank you, boulder Olympics—but when my feet land at the bottom of the stairs, I pat myself on the back. That landing easily would have scored a nine point nine out of a possible ten.

Now, planning ahead for a dark-ass first floor? Not so much on the genius level. Who knew a heap of stones could be so dark at night with the curtains drawn?

Probably everybody. Everybody knows that.

Hands extended, I shuffle through the eerily silent castle, attempting to remember where furniture was placed and hoping there’s something in the fridge for me to eat. Something that isn’t fermented cod cakes. Yes, I’m judging them before I even try them.

Seriously, Torskethorpe, why fermented?

Continuing my shuffle, one hand high, one hand low, I work my way all the way through the living room and into the kitchen, the promised land, where I smooth my hand along the wall, looking for a light switch.

My fingers rub against stone, along molding, and then . . . wait, what is that? Is that a light switch? It’s a knob. Yes, this is what I’m looking for. I turn it, illuminating the space just enough for—

“Ahhhhh!” I scream as a whicker broom hurtles toward my face.

I duck and cower against the wall but the propelled broom crashes into the side of my head, causing me to crash to the ground with a large smack.