Royals (Royals #1)(38)
A guy in a jean jacket gives him the side-eye and mutters some variation of the f-word, while a group of girls in school uniforms nudge each other and roll their eyes as they walk past.
Seb drops his arms, and even with that helmet (which, gotta admit, is a pretty perfect replica of what Finnigan Sparks wears on the cover of Finnigan’s Moon), I swear I can feel him grinning.
“See? No one gives a toss.”
“No one gives a toss, Dais,” Isa repeats with a shrug, then breaks into giggles again, jogging a little to catch up with Seb, and I watch them, fighting the urge to stamp my foot.
It’s silly, really, feeling jealous or upstaged or whatever it is currently twisting my stomach. It’s just that I’d looked forward to this day with Isa, and now it’s becoming a Seb day.
But then I remind myself that, hey, Isabel is having fun, and after the whole thing with Ben she deserves that. Besides, it is kind of nice to know that Seb is a genuine Finnigan Freak. On the way here, he made a pretty good case for Team Jezza, complete with examples from the book, and now, as we make our way to the bookstore, I hear him telling Isabel, “Miranda was ace in Finnigan and the Starhold. Most I’ve ever liked her.”
“That’s because she spent the entire book under an accidental love spell,” Isabel says, “so she was actually into Finnigan for once.”
“Aww, come off it,” Seb says, elbowing her. “She’s liked him the whole time.”
While it’s definitely next-level surreal to watch my best friend nerd out with a costumed prince, we’re close to the bookstore now, so I scoot in between them, ignoring the look Isa cuts me.
“Okay, so here’s the deal,” I say. “Glynnis basically strong-armed Ash Bentley’s publisher here in the UK to do this signing since me and Isa missed out on Key Con thanks to all . . . this.” I wave my hand, taking in Seb, Scotland, all of it. “Which means best behavior from all of us, and by all of us, I mean Seb.”
He pushes his shoulders back, looking down at me, but the helmet kills any intimidation factor he may have been going for.
It strikes me suddenly that I sound a lot like Ellie the day of the race, reminding people how to act, but this book signing is important to me, and the race was . . .
Important to El.
Okay, so maybe a few more apologies are in order once we get back to the palace.
For now, I stop just outside the bookshop. It has a bright blue door with a bell over it, and next door, the window frame is painted hot pink, the colors especially cheerful against all the dark stone and the gray sky. It hasn’t rained yet, but it’s been threatening it all day, and I wish I’d thought to bring an umbrella.
“So,” I say, tugging my jacket tighter around me. “This is the Ash Bentley Show, not the You Know Who Show.” I nod at Seb. “We’re letting you tag along because . . . well, I’m not sure, really. I mean, if you’re this big of a fan, couldn’t you have seen her at a signing like a hundred times by now?”
Seb nods. “Oh yeah, I have signed first editions of the whole series.” Then he spreads his arms out, palms up. “But this is fun.”
I don’t mention that it’s not a huge amount of fun for me because Isabel is smiling up at him again and is clearly living her own royal dream date today, which is something she deserves, frankly.
So I open the door to the shop and hope for the best.
The store is already pretty crowded, but because the date was announced so late, it’s not quite the packed house it could’ve been. Still, all the chairs are filled, and I immediately see that Seb is not the only one in costume. There are a lot of purple Miranda wigs, plenty of helmets that match Seb’s, and more mage robes than I can count.
Seeing them, I feel a smile start to spread across my face. Okay, this? This is much more my scene than a race or a party at a castle or whatever other crazy stuff I might have to do in Scotland. Here, I actually feel like I’ve got a pretty good handle on things, and I’m still smiling as I make my way to the table of Finnigan Sparks books near the middle of the room.
Which is when I hear the first squeal.
It’s a high-pitched whistling sound that immediately makes me wince, and I’m already whirling around, expecting to find Seb with his stupid helmet off smiling his stupid smile like a stupid person.
But Seb is still near the door, still behelmeted, Isabel at his side, and, confused, I look around.
And realize the squealer is looking at me.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she burbles, coming up to stand in front of me, practically shivering. She’s not in any kind of cosplay, just a T-shirt and jean shorts over black tights, and she flaps her hands, beaming at me.
“Daisy!” she goes on. “You’re Daisy Winters! Oh my gooooddddddd!”
Her accent is pretty and rolling, but her voice is loud, and suddenly a lot of heads are turning in my direction, and then there’s this . . . Look, “stampede” is way too strong a word, but there are definitely a lot of people heading toward me, and a lot of voices suddenly talking at once.
“You changed your hair!” I hear one girl wail, while another scoots closer, her Miranda wig slightly crooked. “When you told off that duchess at An Reis, I nearly died. I mean, I didn’t see it, but I read about it, and—”
“Is it true you’re dating Prince Sebastian?” another person asks, and in that weird moment of panic, I do the absolute worst thing I could possibly do.