Her Royal Highness (Royals #2) - Rachel Hawkins Page 0,84

bag to the little girl. “Fair trade,” she says, and the girl, clearly having good taste, takes the purse eagerly, flowers forgotten.

“Saks,” I say, but she shakes her head.

“It was last season anyway. Now, take these flowers and go get your princess.”

The flowers in my hand are a little wilted, the purple blooms definitely worse for wear, but there’s a bright ribbon around the stems in the Baird family plaid, which seems like a good sign.

And after a moment, I reach into my pocket for the smooth and shiny lump of rose quartz I slipped in before we left the school.

The crowd is thicker now, surging near the barricades, and the Bairds are moving down the Mile, closer to where I am, but unfortunately, I’m stuck all the way at the back of the crowd, and being the size of a sixth grader definitely doesn’t help.

Luckily, I have Sakshi.

“PARDON!” she calls out loudly, her bright smile in contrast with her sharp elbows as she pushes her way through the crowd. Perry stands behind me, the caboose in this engine getting me to the front of the line, and I duck my head, following behind Saks as best I can. As the crowd parts, I hear some of the murmurs start up.

Most of them are about how gorgeous Sakshi is, which is valid, but I hear my name a couple of times. Amelia. Millie. That’s her. That’s the girl dating Flora.

And this time, the words don’t make me want to cringe or hide out of sight. They make me want to hold my head up. Yes, that’s me.

Millie, the girl dating Flora.

We’re nearly to the edge of the barricade now. It’s cold out, gray and windy, and I nearly trip on the cobblestone when I hear Saks trill, “Flooorrraaa!”

There’s still six feet of Saks hiding me from sight, but I hear Flora’s reply of “Sakshi!”

And then suddenly, Saks is gone, and I’m standing there at the barricade facing Flora, a bunch of flowers in my hand.

The smile Flora had been wearing for Saks falls away, her expression going guarded for a second until she looks down and sees the flowers.

One corner of her mouth lifts slightly, a patented Flora Smirk, but her eyes are suspiciously bright as she glances back up. “Are those for me?”

“They are,” I say, holding them out. “I stole them from some kid. Well, Saks did, and they’re not as pretty as I would’ve wanted, but beggars can’t be choosers, right? Or . . . stealers can’t be choosers, I guess.”

The crowd is starting to back away from me a little now, and I see Flora’s bodyguards watching us cautiously. From just behind Flora, Seb rises up on his tiptoes to see what’s going on.

When he spots me, he breaks out into a grin, and maybe that’s what gives me the courage to rush on.

“Flora, I’m so sorry. About everything. About not being brave enough or . . . or tough enough or whatever it was. Because I . . .”

I have never been more aware of people looking at me, and even though the rest of the royal family is moving on, the crowd’s attention feels very focused on me and Flora right now. But I realize that there’s only one person’s attention I care about right now—Flora’s. As long as she’s looking at me, I don’t care about anyone else.

“I love you, Flora,” I say, and even though there’s a crowd around us, and bodyguards and other royals, it feels like it’s just us. Like we’re back in our room at Gregorstoun, or out on the moors under the stars. “And yes, sometimes you make me crazy, and we’re definitely going to have to talk about the whole high-handed thing, but . . . it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

Flora laughs at that, the real kind that shows her teeth, and her hand is tight in mine.

“I’m sorry, too,” she says. “I should’ve told you the truth about Tam, and I definitely shouldn’t have paid your tuition without telling you, but . . .” She shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a mess.”

“You’re not,” I immediately reply, then I rethink that. “Okay, you are, but you’re kind and sweet and lovely, and did I mention the whole ‘in love with you’ part? Because seriously. In love.”

“So I’m your sort of mess, then,” she says, and I reach into my pocket, pulling out the rose quartz.

“You are,” I tell her, pressing the rock into her palm. She looks at it for a long moment before lifting her head to meet my eyes.

“This is a very fine rock,” she says at last, her voice a little tight, and I grin back at her.

“You already have all the fancy jewelry in the world,” I say, “but I can keep you supplied with actual rocks. And read maps for you. And there’s a whole world of laundry out there you don’t even know about. Towels were just the beginning.”

“Well, how can a girl resist such an offer?” Flora says, tossing her hair a bit, and my heart feels so big in my chest, I’m surprised I don’t burst.

“Kiss her, lass!” a man shouts from the crowd, and Flora bursts into giggles, covering her mouth with one gloved hand even as tears sparkle in her eyes.

“Is he talking to me or you?” she asks, and I step forward, shaking my head.

“I don’t know,” I tell her, laying my palm against her cheek. “But it’s good advice, so I’m going to take it.”

And I do.