Quint. The Princess and the Texan have been rumored to be more than friends recently, but these pictures of them kissing seem to put to rest any doubts as to the nature of their relationship.
However, don’t get your heart too set on this being the new Royal Romance now that Flora’s brother and his own American Girl, Ellie Winters, are getting closer to tying the knot.
“Flora was mad for Tam,” a source tells PEOPLE exclusively, referring to Lady Tamsin Campbell, once thought to be paired with Prince Sebastian, “and they’ll probably end up back together in the end. Flora only chucked her because she freaked out when it got too serious. Honestly, most of us think this thing with the roommate is just a ploy to make Tam jealous.”
Poor Amelia!
(“EXCLUSIVE: FLORA AND GAL PAL HEAT UP THE HIGHLANDS!” from People)
CHAPTER 36
I sit on the little tufted bench in the dim hallway, staring at my phone.
It’s not a bad picture of me with Flora. In fact, I look kind of . . . good in it. Not as good as Flora, of course, but then, I’m not superhuman. It’s cute, though, us hand in hand there by the rocks, smiling at each other. The next picture captured that moment when Flora pushed my hair back from my face, and okay, that one I can’t really look at because my heart-eyes are kind of ridiculous.
But I keep looking at that line about Flora “chucking” Tam. Flora told me Tamsin broke up with her, not the other way around. Is that true? I think back to seeing Tam back on Skye. She’d seemed cold and standoffish, yeah, but had that actually been hurt, not snobbery?
“There you are.”
I glance up to see Flora coming down the hall toward me, her dress belling out prettily as she walks. How many dresses like that does Flora own? I wonder.
Reaching out to me, she takes my hand. “We’re about to go in for dinner. It’ll be just like at Lord Henry’s, so we won’t get to sit together, but I’ve made sure you’re near Daisy so you’ll have someone to talk to at least, and—what is it?”
I really wish I didn’t have one of those faces where everything I’m thinking is immediately obvious, but such is my curse. It was my mom’s, too, Dad tells me.
“Can we go somewhere and talk for just a sec?”
She looks over her shoulder back toward the ballroom, but then she nods, tugging me up from the bench and farther down the hall. “It’ll be a bit of a scandal if we’re late, but I for one am all right with that.” Flashing a smile at me that makes dimples appear in her cheeks, she adds, “You’ve clearly been a good influence on me, Quint—I haven’t caused a ruckus in ages.”
We pause at the end of the hall, and her smile turns into something like a smirk. “Should probably rectify that,” she murmurs, and then she leans over, kissing me softly. Even though my head is still reeling, I can’t help lifting my hand to her wrist, holding her hand against my face for just a little longer.
When Flora pulls back from the kiss, she laughs lightly, running her thumb over my lower lip, sending a shower of sparks through me. “Why such the serious face?” she asks, and I try to make myself smile back, but I’m not sure I do such a great job at it.
Still holding my hand, Flora opens a heavy door there at the end of the hallway, and a blast of cold air hits me. She’s taking me out onto the rooftop terrace I spotted before, so we can have this super-awkward conversation in a very romantic location.
Great.
We step outside, and I’m already shivering. Flora is, too, but she’s still grinning at me. “I know it’s not quite the season for this,” she says, “but it’s one of my favorite spots. Look how gorgeous Arthur’s Seat looks from here.”
I glance over to my right, and sure enough, the craggy hill reaches up to the stars, lit from the lamps in the park below, a darker shape against the navy sky.
“I knew you’d like this place,” Flora says, a little smug. “Volcanoes and all that. Advanced rocks, really.”
My throat feels tight as I look at Arthur’s Seat, and just for a moment, I think about forgetting the whole thing. Just kissing her again, telling her I love it here—and I do—then going back in to the dinner.
Turning