at my sandwich some more, visions of being stripped of my fancy new uniform on the first day circling my brain, and fill them in on my first meeting with Her Royal Pain. When I get to the Veruca Salt bit, Perry actually hoots.
“Oh my lord, I would’ve given anything to see her face when you said that.”
“It’s going to be okay, isn’t it?” I ask, crumpling up my crumb-filled napkin. “I mean, they’re not going to—”
“Throw you in a dungeon?” Sakshi asks, and I shoot her a look.
“No, I’m not that much of an ignorant American. I was thinking more along the lines of getting kicked out or something. I’m here on scholarship, so what if the punishment for insulting a royal classmate is expulsion or . . . I don’t know, demerits or something?”
Perry shakes his head before snatching a tea cake from Sakshi’s plate. “No worries on that front,” he says before demolishing the cake in one bite. “The whole point of sending the royal kids here is so they’re forced to live like normal students. No special privileges, no kid gloves. If they wouldn’t expel you for calling me Veruca Salt, they can’t do it because you said it to her. That’s the deal.”
Speak of the devil—at that moment, Flora comes in the room, flanked by two other girls, both of whom have hair just as shiny as hers, but aren’t nearly as pretty. They’re both in uniforms, too, but Flora’s still decked out in that fancy sweater and designer jeans.
Her eyes briefly land on me before flicking away again, and I’m not sure if that’s because she’s pissed or because I haven’t really registered to her yet.
She walks over to another sofa, this one smaller than the one Sakshi and I are sitting on, and already occupied by three younger girls.
Flora doesn’t even say anything to them. She just approaches, shoots them a look, and suddenly all three are scattering, practically tripping over themselves to give Her Highness her desired seat.
I snort as Flora situates herself in the best light, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
“I’m not the only person to want to throw ‘Veruca Salt’ in her general direction, am I?” I ask, and that makes both Perry and Sakshi laugh.
“Oh, darling, no,” Perry replies. “I’d bet half the country wants to say that to her. In fact, they probably want to say something much, much worse.”
Sakshi looks at me, her dark eyes narrowed slightly. “You . . . really don’t know anything about her, do you?” she asks, and I shrug.
“Maybe I should’ve read up more. I knew both her brothers went here, but that’s it.”
Sighing, Perry glances up at the ceiling. “Not knowing anything about this crowd,” he says, wistful. “What a lovely life that would be.”
“Easy, drama queen,” Sakshi counters. “It’s not like your family has exactly suffered from their connection to those weirdos.”
Perry grins then, and I’m surprised how much cuter that makes him look. He has a good smile, overbite and all.
“It’s true, it’s true, we have all sorts of lovely lands and houses because of the Bairds and the Stuarts before them. But still, bit of a hassle, even you have to admit that, Saks.”
“I don’t have to admit anything,” she says with a little sniff, lifting her chin in the air. “Besides, one of these days, I’m going to be a Baird myself.”
She says it with such confidence that I don’t even question it, but Perry rolls his eyes. “Give it up. He’ll never come back here, not now that he’s finally gotten free.”
“I’m sorry,” I say slowly, fiddling with the edge of my sweater vest. “You’re going to have to explain things for the American girl. Who are we talking about?”
“Seb the Wanker,” Perry says, but Sakshi shoves at his leg, frowning.
“Prince Sebastian of Scotland, my future husband,” she informs me. “That’s the whole reason I’m here.”
“To . . . marry Prince Sebastian?”
“Mm-hmm.” Sakshi nods, like it’s perfectly normal to set your sights on a royal husband at seventeen, then plan your schooling accordingly.
“Of course, when I applied to be part of Gregorstoun’s first female class, it wasn’t all about Seb. It was beyond time they let women into this place, and I was determined to be among the first wave. But one should always have a secondary goal, and mine is becoming a princess.”
She lifts one shoulder. “I don’t think it’s a bad goal to have.”
“It’s barking mad,” Perry says, and I get the sense