“Basic manners do not a gentleman make,” Matteo says in a sort of mockingly posh accent. “Though I try my best in the company of ladies.”
“All you need is a suit of armor and a horse to match that accent of yours, Lord Moretti,” Irina plays along, making herself giggle.
“Well, if I’m to be Lord Moretti, then you two must be princesses rather than ladies. I assure you, you’re both much higher in station than I am in this fictional world of ours,” he jests, dipping into a short bow. “At your service.”
“Show us your castle, then,” I play along, not bold enough to change my accent.
And show us the castle he does. He takes us room by room while we all muse about pros and cons. It’s a huge space with potential, but I’m not sure that he’s sold on it. Aunt Irina not so subtly gives us some time alone by saying that she wants to check around the outside for any structural imperfections. Our driver stays stationed at the door, but she ensures him that a spare guard will follow her around as she looks.
“So, what do you think of the palace?” Matteo jokes, eyes wandering around the room as he does. We’ve found ourselves in the former den, right off the kitchen wing. “It’s a little gaudy for my taste, but I bet Armani could style it. It doesn’t need to beperfect inside. Just good bones and a lot of space. Redesigning is the easy part.”
“I think it’s big,” I say dumbly, lifting a shoulder. “It’s a bit…loudand kind of cold? Maybe that’s just because it’s empty and too many of the walls and accents are gold. It’s nice, though. I’m sure your family could make it work with the right amount of effort put in.”
“It’s like a queen lived here,” he jokes. “But not a very traditional one. Like a new money sort of royalty. Whoever it was, they certainly liked shiny things. I noticed all the gold too.”
How could he miss it? It’s everywhere.
“It could be worse,” I reply, smiling absently to myself. “Aunt Irina once toured a vacation property that had cheetah print wallpaper in the bathrooms. All of them.”
“Oh yikes.” Matteo laughs. “I’m assuming that place was a pass?”
“Yeah,” I agree, remembering the pictures she showed me. “Uncle Lev said they could just strip the walls, but she said she’d never be able to look at them without remembering the room being covered in animal print.”
He hums, nodding. “Itdoessound haunting.”
My stomach gives a funny flutter as silence follows his statement, no words coming to mind for a reply. We’re alone together in a way that we’ve only really been once before. There are always people around us or so close by that they may as well be in the same room. But now, with Irina checking out the exterior, and the guards stationed outside of the room, it feels like we’re just existing together in a world of our own.
It’s an intense realization, but not troubling like I assumed it could be. There’s no awkwardness, either. I’d hoped that after our hug things wouldn’t change between us, and it seems they haven’t.
“Do you have more tours planned today?” I ask, swaying on my feet absently.
“A couple,” he answers, looking hesitant. “Would you want to?—”
“Can I come with you?” I interrupt before he can ask.
A relieved smile paints his face and my heart beats hard.
“I’d really like that,” he says sincerely. “If you’re up for it, that is.”
“I want to go,” I confirm, breathing out. “I’m having fun.”
“I am too.”
The next mansion Matteo brings me to is much more Southern California style. It’s very tall and looks like it could be a beach house or a desert palace. The crossover of the styles is something I’ve seen a decent amount of in the past around our territory. Not many of those houses were this size or stature, though.
“Oooh, I like this one!” Aunt Irina sing-songs, walking in ahead of us. “Do you two mind if I tour on my own? We can meet up in the kitchen in say, fifteen minutes?”
I know what she’s doing. My aunt is giving us the opportunity to have more alone time if we want it. IfIwant it. And she’s doing it in a way that isn’t overly obvious but still giving me the option to deny her.
“Fifteen works,” I reply bravely.
It’s more time alone than we had in the last house, but I liked talking to Matteo before. It was easier than I expected it to be, and there was no fear where I assumed there might be.
“Lead the way?” I ask, trying not to be too shy.
“Let’s do it,” he agrees.
“It already feels warmer than the last place,” I tell him, noticing more furniture staging and decorations that probably cost a pretty penny.
