Royal Watch (Royal Watch #1) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,1

over the summer.” She stood, patting down her pleated skirt, her brown eyes moving over me.

That was true. I was a very late bloomer, one of those preteen kids who would have been locked in the dungeon. But like most things in my life, my mother’s willpower won out and broke down Mother Nature, letting her have what she wanted.

An attractive daughter to brag about.

When Vivian Sutton set on something, not many things could stop her. Only my uncle’s will had been strong enough to break her over the years.

Introducing me to a curling iron and lowlights, my mother turned my silky straight dull brown hair into long, shiny auburn waves. My skin cleared up, now dotted with freckles instead of acne. My plump body decided to let go of the baby fat and give me a waist and thighs that wouldn’t start a fire when I walked. But in comparison to the top girls here, I was very average. Most looked like models or telly actors.

Standing about five foot six, I blended into the background. The only thing that I perceived unique about me were my huge gray eyes. Against my pale skin and dark auburn hair, they stood out.

Charlotte (I swear nobles had like five names they rotated around and named all their children the same), a clear leader of one of the popular clusters, had called me out the other day, noticing the change I had undergone. But her sentiments were followed by words like “peculiar,” “interesting,” and “different” when it came to all of me blending together. To any girl, no code needed to be broken; it was not a compliment.

Mina was used to peoples’ notice. She didn’t blend into the background, being one of the rare black nobles in the country. Her father was white, her mother of West African descent. It was another thing she and I found revolting about the upper crust, besides the clear inbreeding. The diversity, or lack thereof, in the noble circle was horrifying.

She was even more a token to the school than me, the dean practically motioning to her and saying, “See, not only do we let in the bottom barrel aristocracy, but we are diverse as well!”

I think that was why we bonded so much in secondary school. We’re both on the fringe. Oddities in the mind-numbing world of the aristocrats.

“You know you’re gorgeous, Spence.” She brushed her curly black hair off her shoulder. She was tall and thin with a smile that lit up the world. Smart and extremely shy, she came off as unapproachable, but once you really knew her, she was crazy and fun. Hilarious too. I thought she was stunning, but guys at the school tended to stay away from either of us. Landen, my cousin, was the singular male in our minuscule group. Another misfit.

“Just think of it as a compliment when the upper crust starts noticing and insulting you.” Mina grinned as we started to walk to our class. “Highest form of praise.”

“If you say so.”

“Did they even bother to insult you before?”

“Ouch.”

“But true.” She grabbed for the door, leading us into Durham Hall, which was named for Charlotte’s great-great-great- (times whatever number) grandfather. I found it strange that centuries later, children of some man they happened to be related to were living off his name like fat hogs. They seemed entitled and arrogant, without doing a damn thing to deserve it, besides being lucky enough to claim they had his blood somewhere in their pinkie.

“Charlotte is no different than a shark, smelling new blood in her pool. She doesn’t like competition, even from her so-called friends. You can deny it all you want, but the guys are noticing you. I mean, ‘tongues rolling out onto the ground, dry-humping the wall when you walk by’ kind of notice.”

“Mina!” I groaned, rubbing my head. “That was a visual I didn’t need.”

“Please.” She followed me into the history lecture room, finding our seats closer to the front of the large lecture room. We were the type who not only liked to learn, but had to. I had no billion-pound inheritance waiting for me, nor would the school ignore bad marks from me like they did the “other” people.

“Like you wouldn’t love his tongue lapping at you.” She lifted her eyebrows towards the back row on the other side of the lecture room. Butterflies fluttered in my gut at seeing Theo lounge back in his chair, legs wide and his laughter booming through the room

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