Her Royal Highness (Royals #2)(8)



But other than a text from Lee asking if I want to get fro-yo later (I do, obviously), my phone is silent.

I’ve just shelved the last book on my cart when I hear footsteps.

It’s probably someone wanting to use one of the study rooms, but it could also be people looking for a private spot to do . . . whatever (trust me, I’ve seen it all), so I steel myself for either/or.

But it’s not a studious college kid or horny high schoolers.

It’s my dad.

And there’s a letter in his hand.

“Is it . . . ?” I ask, but I know that it is. Dad would not have come all the way out here to give me junk mail.

And when he turns the envelope to face me, I see the Gregorstoun unicorn up there in the corner.

“Omigod,” I say softly, and Dad nods.

“Oh my god, indeed.”

I take a few steps forward, my hand outstretched, and Dad gives me a little grin.

“Millie, you know this is just a school, right? This isn’t your Hogwarts letter.”

“And you’re not an owl,” I remind him, “but this is absolutely the closest thing I’m ever going to get to a Hogwarts letter, so hand it over.”

Dad does, but his grin slips just a little bit. “Millipede, if they’re not offering you anything, we can still find a way to make it work. Or we can try to.”

I make myself smile back, even though it’s hard. I have to have gotten a scholarship. Gregorstoun was calling to me for some reason, I know it, and places don’t call just to reject you, right?

But my hands still shake as I open the envelope, my chest tight as my eyes scan the letter, landing on Pleased to offer you a full scholarship for the upcoming—

The scream I let out probably causes at least three heart attacks in the reading room, and I hear one of the old guys in the soft chairs give a startled “Hoozit?”

Clapping my hand over my mouth, I look at Dad, but he’s laughing silently, his shoulders shaking as he wipes at his eyes with one hand.

“I’m guessing you got it, then?” he asks when he’s done cracking up, and I look back at the paper, rereading carefully, hoping I didn’t misread it because I wanted it so badly. But nope, there it is in black and white.

Full ride, room and board, everything covered.

I’m going to Scotland.

Oh.

I’m going to Scotland.





OOOOOOH Y’AAAAALLLLL!!

I have some INTERESTING NEWS TO REPORT! Okay, so you know how Prince Seb went to that Fancy But Totally Terrifying Boarding School in the Highlands? One of those places where your roommate is probably a sheep and you have to get up at 4 a.m. every day? WELL.

It looks like Seb is DONE WITH THAT. St. Edmund’s Academy in Edinburgh just announced that Seb is doing his last year of school with them, and APPARENTLY the tea is that Queen Clara wants Seb muuuuuuch closer to home, what with the Big Wedding Kicking Off in December. You angels remember what happened last summer, right? With Boring Prince Alex becoming UNBORING for a hot minute, and knocking Seb into the dirt? Appears THAT little drama got Seb sentenced to Life Under Mum’s Nose.

So sorry, all you Highland Lassies who get to go to Gregorstoun this year and were hoping to lay eyes on Seb the Dreamboat/Hot Mess! At least you’ll have pretty views to look at? And sheep? Honestly, a sheep would probably make a better boyfriend than that dude, let’s be real.


(“Dreams! Crushed!!” from Crown Town)





CHAPTER 6





“Will you have to wear plaid all the time?”

Lee sits on the end of my bed, hands clasped between his knees as he watches me pull things out of my closet. It’s mid-August, which means it’s very hard to imagine a time when I’ll need heavy coats, but the weather app on my phone tells me that if I were in Scotland right now, I’d want to be wrapped in wool. Besides, I won’t be back home until December, so my heaviest winter coat gets tossed on the bed with the rest of the things I’m packing.

“The uniforms are plaid,” I tell Lee. “But a dark plaid, so it’s not so bad.”

Lee attempts a smile, but his eyes keep returning to my suitcase.

Walking over, I put a hand on his shoulder. “The internet exists,” I remind him. “Email, FaceTime, Facebook, probably some other face-based technology they’ll invent while I’m over there . . .”

That gets a genuine smile out of him at least, and he runs a hand over his hair. “Face Plate,” he suggests. “Faces showing up in your plates so you can eat dinner together.”

Giggling, I throw another pair of socks in my bag. “Gross. I don’t want to eat off your face.”

Lee smirks. “Then I guess you don’t even want me to get into Toilet Time, because that’s where technology will really take off.”

“Why am I friends with a boy?” I muse to my poster of Finnigan Sparks, tapping my fingers against his space helmet.

“Because you love me,” Lee replies, and I heave a sigh.

“Sadly, I do.”

Lee is not doing great with the whole Me in Scotland Thing, but he’s definitely trying at least, hence the moral support while I pack. Gregorstoun’s first day is later than Pecos High’s, so he’s already back in school, while I have a week before I’ll start my senior year.

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