“Please stop telling people that,” he says, leaning forward so that he can shake my hand, too. He’s a good six inches shorter than Sakshi, his hair bright orangey red, freckles smattering his milk-white skin everywhere that I can see.
“So you’re American,” he says as he steps a little closer. He’s also wearing the Gregorstoun sweater vest, but it looks a little big on him.
“Yeah,” I say, shifting my weight to my other foot. “From Texas.”
It occurs to me that that might not mean anything to them, and when Sakshi says, “Perry and I are both from Northampton,” I realize that where she’s from doesn’t mean anything to me, either. This is a weird bit of culture shock I hadn’t really anticipated.
But I nod at the two of them and smile, figuring that fake it till you make it is about to be my new motto around here.
“Well, come along,” Sakshi says, threading an arm through mine and tugging me back toward the stairs. “I assume you’re on your way to the Girls’ Tea.”
I nod, letting myself be dragged along in her wake with Perry.
“It used to just be the First Years’ Tea,” he says as we make our way down the stairs. I spot a few portraits of stern-looking men in tartan, as well as some framed black-and-white photographs of uniformed boys standing in front of the school.
“But they’re doing a special one just for the girls,” he continues, and Sakshi sighs, waving her free hand.
“Yes, yes, Perry, I’m sure Millie here could put together what I meant by a ‘Girls’ Tea,’ for heaven’s sake. She’s American, not stupid.”
“Thanks? I think?” I say as we come to the bottom of the stairs.
There are more girls milling around now, some who are clearly my age, but a lot who seem younger. Sakshi looks at them, the corners of her mouth turning down.
“Poor loves,” she says. “There aren’t many of us intrepid ladies this year, and I feel it’s going to be harder on the younger ones. I’ve even got one as my roommate, you know. Some little horsey girl.”
“Horsey girl?” I ask, and Sakshi waves a hand.
“There’s always a handful. Those girls entirely too invested in horses. Anyway, there aren’t enough of us ladies to pair us all up with our own age group, so some of us have to room with the little ones, yours truly included.”
She takes a deep breath, folding her hands in front of her. “Like I said, poor dears. I only have to survive for a year. They’re here for ages.”
Okay, “survive” is not how I want to think of my time here in my brand-new, exciting life.
“It’s not going to be that bad,” I say, shrugging. “I mean, we all chose to be here, right?”
“Saks did,” Perry said. “I have never chosen to be at Gregors- toun, and I want that noted for the record. And possibly engraved on my headstone.”
Rolling her eyes, Saks leans down and says to me, “Perry has been moaning about this place since he was twelve, so I decided I’d come and see what all the fuss was about.” Then she flips her long dark hair over one shoulder. “Besides, if it’s good enough for a princess, it’s certainly good enough for me.”
She leans in closer, lowering her voice. “Princess Flora is here,” she says in a stage whisper. “As in the Princess Flora.”
“Right, not the other, off-brand one,” I joke. “Do they give her some kind of special tower room or something?”
Sakshi wrinkles her nose. “You haven’t seen her? She’s supposed to be rooming on your floor.”
I shake my head. “I have seen no princesses,” I say, and then . . .
No.
My mouth dry, I ask, “Do either of you have a phone? So you can show me her picture?”
Perry shakes his head, but Saks looks around before reaching into the waistband of her skirt and pulling out a rose-gold iPhone.
“Saks, it’s supposed to stay in your room—you’re going to get in trouble,” Perry says, but Sakshi just holds up one finger, clicking on her phone with the other.
“Here she is,” she says. “Shopping in New Town, wearing a truly fabulous coat.”
Before she even turns the phone to me, I know, but it’s still a shock to the system to see the picture and clearly recognize Princess Flora.
My roommate.
When Princess Flora joins Gregorstoun this autumn, she’ll be the first female royal to do so in the school’s hundred-year history. However, Flora won’t be alone in making her mark as part of Gregorstoun’s first female class! Let’s have a look at some of the other aristocratic ladies who are heading to the Highlands this year.
Lady Elisabeth Graham: Youngest daughter of the Earl of Dumfries, Lady Elisabeth recently celebrated her twelfth birthday by renting out the entire Edinburgh Zoo for the weekend. Like her mother, the Countess of Dumfries, Lady Elisabeth is quite the equestrian, and we hear she’s greatly looking forward to honing her skills at Gregorstoun.
The Honourable Caroline McPherson: Miss McPherson is the daughter of the Viscount Dunrobbin, and like Princess Flora, she will be completing her final year of secondary school at Gregorstoun. Another thing Miss McPherson has in common with Princess Flora: She was briefly linked romantically to Prince Sebastian’s best friend, Miles Montgomery.
Lady Sakshi Worthington: As the daughter of the Duke of Alcott, Lady Sakshi is second only to the princess herself in terms of rank. Her mother is noted philanthropist and socialite Ishani Virk, whose wedding to the duke was one of the grandest in recent memory. We’re told Lady Sakshi has inherited her mother’s flair for entertaining, as well as her interest in charity work.
(“Ladies of Gregorstoun,” from Prattle)
CHAPTER 9
“You seriously didn’t know you were rooming with the princess?” Sakshi asks as we sit on an uncomfortable sofa in what’s called “the east drawing room.” There’s a buffet table against the back wall that has a bunch of china teacups and saucers, plus tiers of cakes and cookies, but I’m definitely not hungry right now. I did take the cucumber sandwich Saks offered me from her plate, but I’m mostly just crumbling it into a napkin.
“I seriously didn’t,” I tell Sakshi now in a low voice. “But honestly, that seems like the kind of thing someone should’ve told me? I mean, I got about five thousand emails about what kind of socks to buy, but I didn’t get a ‘hi, you’re living with royalty’ heads-up?”
I don’t add that I’m here on scholarship, and for all I know, insulting the royal family is automatic grounds for getting all that sweet, sweet school cash yanked back.