“Would you mind if I prayed over this meal for us?” Finley offers his hand to me, but I don’t think I can touch him anymore. It’s getting to be too much.
“Yes,” I answer, but I keep my hands in my lap under the table and bow my head. After a moment, Finley leads us in a simple prayer of gratitude for the food, the time together, and…for me.Finley thanks God for bringing me into his life…
When he says amen, I shove my sandwich into my mouth to keep from word vomiting that I am Lorelei Raine Spence, not Lucy. With every passing second, I feel sick to my stomach over these lies. I can’t even bring myself to ask him about his past. Lucy will have to shoulder that herself. I just want to eat and go home and tell my twin that she needs to tough it up and tell this man the truth.
Because I can’t touch him again. It’s like touching the sun.
I can’t continue hearing him praise me. Compliment me. Because I know I’ve done a horrible job at being my sister.
And for the love of all things, I can’t have Finley falling formeinstead of Lucy. The poor man probably thinks he found a woman who is somewhere between the two of us, and that’s not who we are.
Lucy will make an excellent princess and queen. She will compliment Finley’s flirty, outgoing personality and will elevate his liveliness. If Finley was with me, I would choke off his buoyant attitude with a thick rope of rigid structure. It would be a slow death for Finley Andersson.
“Is there anything you would like to know about life as a royal? I swear to be an open book for you, Lucy. I want you to continue to get to know me just as Finley, but I also promise to give you all the information you need, the good, bad, and ugly, to make an informed decision if we continue down this path.”
I take a bite of my sandwich to give myself time to think. Lucy needs to have this conversation with him, not me. But I also have to be her right now. “Thank you, Finley. I appreciate your consideration and understanding. I think I am processing everything right now, but I promise I want to come back to this conversation in a few days on our next scheduled date.”
Lucy informed me that their next date will be driving a few hours east to Alabama to tour Bellina Gardens. Not going to lie, I’m a bit jealous of that. Why couldn’t that be the date I subbed in on? He apparently picked that date, though, because he rememberedmylove of flora from date one. More like an obsession, but love will suffice.
“I understand,” Finley says. He takes a bite of his sandwich, and the rest of the meal progresses as we talk through various topics such as collectivism versus individualism (we both fall somewhere in between), constitutional monarchy versus rule by republic (we both agree that both types of government are effective; it simply depends on the size, population, and diverse nature of the country), and we even talk about our favorite philosophy books. It’s an easy, stimulating conversation that reminds me of how smart and capable Finley is. He will make a great king.
And Lucy will look amazing by his side.
The rain begins to pour outside, and I swear a shadow darts past the window, but maybe it’s only a passing cloud.
Finley’s blond eyebrows knit together, then he says, “We should go.”
Chapter Six
Finley
“This is hopeless.” I groan as I place the book I’m reading over my face to create the ambience I’m feeling: utter darkness. Mason isn’t too impressed based on the way he throws an aztec-patterned pillow at me from across the room.
I confided in him about my situation, and he had a heyday making a mockery of my turmoil, much like I did when he confessed his situation with Karoline before they kissed and made up from years of hurt.You get what you dish out,he had said.
“What did you tell me back in January when I came to you for advice on how to get Karoline to talk to me?” Mason’s tone is chastising like he’s a condoning parent.
I sit up, the book falling from my face. “I’ve lived an entire life in the couple of months I was away. All I can remember these days is that I need to get married and I desperately only want to for love. Not because the crown demands it.”
Mason makes a show of swooning, flinging his hand to his forehead and leaning back in the reclining chair. It tilts too far, andMason reaches for the ground with one arm and foot to prevent a crashing fall, pushing himself and the chair back upright. “Close one.” He laughs through heavy breaths. Anders scoffs. I roll my eyes but grin. Thankfully, Gabriel is in the shower for this show of idiocrasy. Mason’s great and has swiftly become a close friend, which I honestly don’t have outside of my brother and sister, PPOs, and a few titled friends that I haven’t been super close with since I became a globetrotter. I’m one of those people who gets along with everyone but only keep a few people close.
“Ahem.” He clears his throat and settles back into the chair. “You told me to establish a friendship, back up my words with actions, and be patient. I know Karoline and I had history and you and Lor—sorry, I mean Lucy—don’t.” He glances away for a second before looking at me again and continuing. “But the rules still apply. Be patient with her. You just dumped a five-course meal onto her table. Let her pick and nibble and taste test until she’s ready to commit to something.”
I arch a brow. “Good. Yes, I should take my own advice. But Mason, should we eat dinner now?” As if right on cue, his stomach growls.
“Nah, sorry, man. I’m grabbing dinner with Karoline.” He gets up and eyes Anders. “But you and Anders here can cozy up and make Gabriel whip up some French dish or something when he’s fresh and clean from the shower.”
“They’re my PPOs, not my chefs.”
“He’s right, Your Highness. Gabrielcancook,” Anders says.
“Your Highness.” Mason laughs as he walks to his room. “Don’t ever expect me to call you that. I’m too American.”
“I would expect nothing less from you, redneck,” I say just loud enough so he can hear me down the hall.
“I’ll send you back to Korsa as a redneck. You can be their redneck king,” Mason hollers.
“Am I stuck between a royal and a redneck?” I look at Anders for an answer, but he only shrugs. A hint of a smile glosses his lips, and there’s my answer. I’ve been in the South too long. “Fancy that.”
