Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
I might not be sure about how I felt about the fact that, for all intents and purposes, I’d been moved into Aleksei’s penthouse without a word exchanged between us before this happened.
But I was sure I’d move into that closet.
All said and done, I had soft, wide-leg, silvery-cream, drawstring pants on the bottom, a horizontal stripe semi-oversized shirt up top (stripes in silver and cream). My hair was half up and half down, the down part having bouncy waves. And a pair of silver, flat mules were on my feet. They had notched-side uppers featuring intricate embroidery in greens, pinks, silvers and blues.
It wasn’t a meet-the-king-and-queen outfit, as such.
But they were just his parents here.
Right?
I hit the living area feeling vaguely nauseous because I was not so vaguely nervous and was greeted not only by a loud meow from Comet, even if he was still licking his chops after consuming breakfast, I was also greeted with the knowledge that Allain had not lied.
King Fillion, Queen Calisa, Princes Timothee and Errol were there. As were Gayle, Cat and Mr. and Mrs Truelock.
And Sirk.
They were all assembled in the luxurious built-in couches and freestanding armchairs that were positioned with a talented designer’s eye in the sunken living room.
Good news: none of my beings looked like they wanted to launch themselves at me in order to throttle me.
They didn’t appear entirely comfortable (save Mr. Truelock), but they also didn’t seem homicidal.
I further noted, somewhere along the line, Aleksei had donned a white, long-sleeved T-shirt and another pair of jeans, these less faded than the ones he wore last night.
Last, Germaine was in attendance, pacing the landing close to the bottom of the steps.
And the instant she saw me, she took all my attention, because she announced, “Oh my gods, she is just so perfect…I could die.”
“Uh…hey,” I said to her.
“Stunning, natural, casually stylish, relatable. Dead Winter came early to me this year,” Germaine went on rhapsodizing about me.
What she didn’t do was greet me.
I wasn’t sure about this female.
She was making me uncomfortable, and I was already feeling mightily uncomfortable, so I turned my attention to the seating area and began to do my thing for the king and queen.
“If you curtsy, I’m throwing their asses out,” Aleksei warned.
Seemed the grouch was back.
“Over here, with me,” he ordered.
Since he was holding a coffee mug, I went over there, to him.
He poured me a cup, manually, from a glass carafe that was set inside some kind of shiny, black electronic unit.
He then dolloped cream in it from a little pitcher (likewise shiny black), doing this also manually.
He stirred it (manually).
And he handed it to me.
“Um…” I said.
“I don’t have a Bev-Buddy either,” he replied to my unasked question.
Righty ho.
I sipped and found it was better than Bev-Buddy coffee, or at least the brand I supplied my Bev-Buddy with.
By a lot.
He positioned me at his side and made sure I knew to stay there by wrapping his arm around my waist.
I didn’t want to catch certain eyes.
But I had to catch certain eyes.
Sweeping through my beings, I took in the fact that Mr. Truelock looked cool as usual, lounged casually in an armchair like he owned this penthouse, his long legs crossed.
Mrs. Truelock sat in a chair next to him wearing one of her signature elegantly feminine dresses, her coppery-blonde hair perfectly coifed, and Jupiter was in her lap (she was the only one Jupiter liked, which told you all you needed to know about the lovely Mrs. Truelock).
Gayle and Cat shared a couch, and they, unsurprisingly, considering where we all were and who we were with, appeared alert, but also surprisingly rested considering the night they’d had.
Time to face the music, so I asked quietly, “Are you all mad at me?”
“Hells no,” Gayle answered, then said to the king and queen. “No disrespect.”
“Be yourself in my home,” Aleksei put in before the king or queen could say anything.
Oh dear.
I wasn’t having good thoughts about this unplanned, post-assassination-attempt, inter-family mingling, and I was already not having good thoughts.
“Anyway, truth serum is a trip, sister,” Gayle told me. “A killer one. I’m feeling a whole lot better about law and order in our realm after dealing with those RMI guys. They’re like…whoa. Totally on it.”
Sirk grunted unhappily.
Gayle darted a glance at him and then her face flushed prettily.
“He almost got arrested when the constables took Gayle into custody,” Cat educated me.
Gayle’s cheeks got even pinker.
Sirk’s pecs popped when he crossed his arms irritably over his chest.
Interesting.
I filed that in my Make Cat and/or Gayle Tell Me the Story Later folder.
Not catching the vibe, someone rudely wanted the story now.
“What did you do?” Prince Errol asked Sirk.
“Nothing smart,” Sirk replied sharply.
Denied the goods on a misadventure by Sirk, who was adult enough to know whatever it was, it was a misadventure and not be proud of it, Errol sneered at Sirk.