The Wild Heir(15)

“Why are you so wet?”

I run my hand over the top of my head, wincing at how soaked it is. “I forgot my umbrella. And I’m not going to class today. Instead, you and I are going to Edinburgh.”

“Edinburgh?” she exclaims loudly. I knew she’d get all excitable about this. She never keeps things very subtle.

“Yes. Now promise you won’t get all, you know, loud about this,” I warn her, putting out my palms as a way of calming her before she can start.

“I’m not loud,” she says extra quietly.

I give her a steady look. “Anyway,” I go on, “Schnell called me. Just now on the way to class.”

“Oh my god, is everything all right!?” she cries out, hand to her chest.

“Jane,” I warn her. “This is you. Being loud. This is what loud is. And yes, everything is fine, don’t worry. It’s just that he called with an unusual request on behalf of my father.”

“Why didn’t your father call?”

“You know why.”

She narrows her eyes. Even though my father is the one who pays her salary, I know Jane doesn’t like him. Her personality with his is like oil and water.

“What does he want?” she asks.

“Well,” I say, taking in a deep breath, “it seems I’ve been invited to dinner tomorrow night at the royal palace in Norway.”

She stares at me for a few moments before she goes, “Say what? You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

“Someone might be pulling mine, but I’m still going. Both of us are. Tomorrow we fly out of Edinburgh for Oslo. I need something to wear—I assume you do too, unless you’ve got some fancy dress in your closet here”—I pause to glance at the closet by her bed which looks like it holds maybe three hangers—“so I thought we would just head to Edinburgh right now and get some shopping in.”

She’s still staring at me with the same blank expression as before. I stare right back at her, brows raised, waiting for some sort of explosion. “Why?” she asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s some horrible joke my brothers are playing on me. Maybe I’ll go there and no one will be there to pick me up. Though my brothers would first have to know I exist before that could happen…”

“Bloody hell,” Jane exclaims breathlessly, her eyes growing wider by the second. “You’re serious.”

“When am I not?”

“We’re going to an actual royal palace!”

“You act like you’re not the lady-in-waiting to an actual princess,” I remind her stiffly. “You’ve seen the palace I grew up in.”

“And you know that it’s not the same,” she says, clapping her hands together. “Your family’s palace is a castle fit for Count Dracula. That’s what happens when you have only men ruling your country. Oh, if only my mum could see me now. She was so bloody obsessed with all royal families, the type to collect every single mug and collector plate she could get her hands on. Ooooh,” she goes on, “maybe the Prince will be there!”

I roll my eyes and shudder. “Ew. I hope not.”

Jane recoils at that and gawks at me like I have two heads. “Prince Magnus? What’s your problem with him?”

Ugh. Don’t get me started. Maybe it’s because I’ve only been mercilessly teased by those types back in boarding school (princesses are an easy target), I have no patience for men who act like boys or think with their dicks, and it seems like Prince Magnus of Norway is nothing more than a glorified playboy with a fancy title. All I ever see when I flip through the blogs and news is him racing motorcycles or hooking up with a new socialite.

Now there’s a sex video floating around of him and the prime minister of Norway’s daughter, which seems like bad news all around, though I shouldn’t be surprised at the lengths that people go to for more and more fame. “He just seems like an idiot. That stupid smug smile I always see, like everyone wants him or wants to be him. And flaunting all those women around. I mean, hello, who the hell makes sex tapes anymore unless it’s for attention? Yeah right, it was accidently leaked.”

She chuckles. “Believe me, I don’t think he did that for attention. He has enough of it already.” She pauses, a strange gleam in her eyes. “Have you watched it?”

I scrunch up my nose. “God, no. Why would I?”

She shrugs and looks away.

“Jane,” I say slowly. “Have you?”

Her head tilts and she’s unable to hide her smile. “Maybe.”

“Ugh, you’re supposed to be refined, Jane.”

“I am refined!” she yells, her round cheeks going pink. “I just have a healthy dose of curiosity.” She pauses. “It’s going to be hard having dinner with him after I know what he looks like naked. How he moves…the man has skills, Ella. Skills you need to see.”

I raise my palm. “Please, please stop talking. I don’t share my…sex life with you.”

“This isn’t my sex life,” she says with a snort. “It’s his sex tape and it’s all over the news. And need I remind you that you can’t share your sex life with me if you don’t have one.”

I turn around. “This is getting wildly inappropriate.”