The Wild Heir(44)

As if she reads this on my face, she says, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything or judge you. I just want to know. Personally, I wouldn’t be cut out for it and I don’t think many people are.”

I nod, running a hand over my jaw, the stubble feeling scratchy against my fingers. It’s my own stupid game and I need to be as honest as I can be.

“Yes and no,” I tell her, taking a breath before I explain. “It’s complicated.”

“Most jobs are. Most families are.”

“Yeah. And most of this is tied to family. We are royals. A monarchy. It’s all about family and the job, combined. There is deep shame in abdicating.”

“So you would abdicate if you could?”

“Oh, I can,” I tell her, something inside me pinching at the thought. “I’d just rather not.”

“I’m not sure if you answered my question.”

“The thing is…my father wants me to rule. Lord knows why when Irene is more qualified than I am.”

“Irene…she’s your sister. How old is she?”

“She’s a couple of years older than you. Twenty-four. But she’s dead serious about everything in her life and has taken an interest in the monarchy and position more than anyone else has. She would rule with an iron fist. She would be steadfast in her role. I can’t think of anyone better.”

“But she’s twenty-four,” Ella says slowly. “I would think that’s too young.”

“She is too young for it. But sometimes I think her twenty-four is a lot older than my twenty-eight. If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m rather immature.”

“You don’t say,” she deadpans.

“Yes, well, perhaps we’re both too young. But the truth is, we may not have much choice. My father isn’t doing well, and…everyone—including him, maybe especially him—think that at the very least he should step back from his role for health reasons. Which means someone has to step in, and so far the world is expecting it to be me. I am the heir apparent and I have no reason to abdicate.”

“Except that you don’t want the job.”

I let out a long breath. “It’s not that I don’t want the job. It’s just that I am not built for it. As you said, very few people are, and I…well, I shouldn’t even run a McDonalds. I’m absolute shit at anything to do with organization, and after a week the company would be overrun with monkeys and knuckle deep in secret sauce.”

She stares at me for a few moments, seeming to take me in. I have to say, I like it when she looks at me. I like the feeling that I’m finally registering to her. Though it might not be in the most complimentary way. What was I just talking about, secret sauce?

“I know what you’re saying,” she says quietly, her eyes dropping to study her empty glass. “But perhaps you’d be better at it than you think.”

I shrug and get up, grabbing the bottle of scotch. “I doubt it. But I appreciate your faith in me.” I go over to her and try to fill her glass but she places her hand over it.

“I’ve had enough for tonight,” she says. “And if question time is over, I’d like to go to bed.”

I take the bottle back, pretending not to be slighted, and sit back down in my chair, filling my glass to the brim.

“I have one more question,” I tell her as she’s about to rise from her seat.

She sighs and sits back down. “This is going to be a doozy, isn’t it?”

I only grin at her. “You should know what to expect from me by now.” I clear my throat. “Listen, it’s only because of what we were talking about earlier. My first question. I asked if I made you uncomfortable and you said yes, because you don’t have that much experience around men like me…”

I pause and can see her shoulders stiffen, anticipating where this is going.

“So,” I continue, “I was just curious. Are you a virgin?”

Oh man, if looks could kill. She’s trying to incinerate me on the spot and I know she’s going to tell me it’s rude, it’s crude, it’s none of my business, but the fact of the matter is, she has to answer truthfully, and honestly, I have no idea what she’s going to do.

Finally she raises her chin and looks me dead in the eye. “Is this relevant to the marriage?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, am I supposed to be a virgin?”

“Oh god no.” I laugh and then quickly compose myself. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being a virgin. I mean, hey, that’s always a trip. But this isn’t that kind of marriage. There are no ancient royal Viking laws or anything that say the queen has to be a virgin. Vikings knew how to have fun.”

She slowly raises a brow at that. She’s not impressed with any of this.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she says slowly, getting to her feet, “but I am not a virgin. And to save you the trouble of bringing this up again in future questions, I can tell you that it happened at boarding school, his name was Malcolm, I was sixteen. We were together until the summer after we graduated when he went to Oxford and I took a year to find myself.”

“And did you? Find yourself, I mean.”

“No. Is that all?”