Chapter 7

There was a knock on the door. I flipped over to look at the alarm clock on my nightstand to see what time it was and why someone was knocking at my apartment.

When I opened my eyes, I didn’t recognize anything.

I shot straight up, heart racing, and looked to my right as a short, stout woman walked through the white double doors.

Oh, right. I’m in Wexstone. I flew here yesterday. I took a deep breath as my heart rate slowed.

“Good morning, Ms. Hamilton,” the woman greeted as she pulled back the floor-to-ceiling drapes that ran the length of the room.

“Good morning,” I greeted as I rubbed sleep out of my eyes, still trying to get my bearings.

“Breakfast will be served downstairs in the dining room in an hour. Would you like me to have any tea sent up while we get you ready?”

“Um, we?” I questioned.

“Yes, miss. I’m Sonya, your maid, and I can start the shower or run you a bath if you’d like. Or if you'd rather wait, I can go ahead and lay out the clothes you’ll wear for breakfast. Whatever your morning routine is, let me know and I can help get you started.”

My maid? Many of my friends growing up had cleaning ladies that came to their house once a week, something my own family could never afford. And now the idea of having my own personal attendant made my head spin. It’s too early for this. I need coffee.

Sonya looked at me with big, round eyes, waiting for me to respond to her.

“I would love a cup of coffee if you have any, thank you.”

“Right away, love,” she answered as she hurried out the door.

I made my way to the ensuite and stopped in my tracks after taking a step in.

I had been so exhausted the night before that I had failed to properly take in the room when I washed my face before bed.

This wasn’t a bathroom, it was a hotel. I was sure that they ran a high-end spa out of here on the weekends or something.

To my right, a marble vanity ran along what had to be a fifteen-foot wall, and to my left was the largest shower I had ever seen.

I counted four shower heads pointing in every possible direction, and the bathtub that sat next to it looked like you could swim in it.

What caught my eye next was the fireplace on the far back wall.

A fireplace?! In a bathroom?! A girl could really get used to this.

After seeing to my needs, I washed my hands and heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Come in,” I called.

Sonya entered, carrying a tray filled with an assortment of tiny serving bowls and pitchers with sugar cubes, cream, honey, milk, and a French press full of dark liquid gold.

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you, Sonya. And please, call me Birdie.” I took the delicate coffee cup and the saucer it sat on and filled it to the top with coffee and cream.

“I can’t do that, miss,” she replied, looking nervous.

“No, seriously. Please just call me Birdie. You don’t have to be formal with me.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think Lord Alexander would be very happy if he caught on that I was being informal with you.”

I cocked my head. I was already out of my comfort zone being waited on by household staff. I was used to being the one serving. But the fact that Sonya didn’t feel like she would be allowed to call me by my name?

“Is Lord Alexander nice to you? Is he good to the staff?” The questions tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop myself, but I didn’t think I could stomach staying here if the staff was afraid of Bronson.

Vince was a nice guy; Sam’s bullshit meter was never wrong, so I knew that she would have told me if something felt off with him.

But Bronson was so uptight and close-lipped that I had to ask.

“Oh dear, yes! The Alexanders are wonderful employers and a lovely family. I couldn’t have asked for a better house to serve, other than perhaps the royal family.”

Well, that was something, at least. Sonya glanced at me, spotting the lingering questions in my eyes. After a beat, she continued.

“King Leroy’s father, Francis, set into place a number of laws protecting household staff and domestic workers.

They say it was because his childhood love was a maid in the palace, but no one can confirm if that’s true or not.

Either way, he made sure we would be given the protections that many of us had lacked before then, things like a proper wage and time off.

In that way, I believe, we are quite a bit ahead of the United States, yes? ”

“By about a mile,” I answered ruefully.

“I have worked for the Alexanders for most of my adult life—in fact, I was even there when each of the boys was born. My own sons were raised on these grounds and are now attending university themselves. I expect I will retire soon; Lord and Mr. Alexander have both assured me that I have a home here for as long as I would like one. Perhaps I will take them up on that offer, perhaps I will use my savings to buy a small flat in the city. Only time will tell.”

“I think that’s beautiful, Sonya. Thank you for your service to the house and to me,” I said as I lightly squeezed her forearm. “How much time do I have to get ready for breakfast?”

She glanced at her watch. “About fifteen minutes. Lord Alexander is already waiting.”

Oh geez. I’ll never hear the end of it if I’m late.

I quickly brushed my teeth, threw my hair into a knot on the top of my head, changed out of my comfy pajamas into a pair of black leggings and a loose cable-knit sweater, and dashed down the stairs. I realized once I got to the bottom of the staircase that I had no idea where I was going.

“Good morning.” Vince was walking toward me from the hall to my right.

“Good morning. I’m glad to see you. I have no idea how to get to the dining room.”

“I figured so. That’s why I was coming to wait by the staircase for you. It’s this way.”

We walked down the corridor lined with paintings of landscapes and military battles. I could only assume they had some meaning to the family and the events that led this house to greatness. Vince opened the dark wood door to the dining room, where Bronson sat at the head of the table.

“Lord Alexander,” I greeted, inclining my head toward him. I decided I would play Bronson's game and display all the lessons he had instructed me in yesterday. What better way to practice than at the breakfast table with Lord Stick-Up-His-Butt.

After sitting at the beautiful mahogany table, I placed an ironed linen napkin into my lap and scanned the trays of sweet breakfast pastries, bowls of fruit, scrambled eggs, roasted potatoes, and thick slices of bacon.

I knew I would have to pace myself here if this was going to be the normal at every meal.

“Good morning, Ms. Hamilton. How was your stay last night?” Bronson inquired, sipping a cup of tea.

“Wonderful. Thank you,” I smiled. “Is there an agenda today?”

“Yes, there is. Tonight is the welcoming gala, so Clarence and his staff will be here precisely at five and twenty past three p.m.”

Of course he’d even be formal when telling me the time. I swallowed back a laugh. “Sounds delightful.”

“Are you ready for tonight?” Vince asked as he scooped a few spoonfuls of eggs onto the porcelain plate in front of him.

“I’m nervous, but I’m ready. It’ll be nice to see Oliver again.”

“Prince Oliver,” said Bronson.

“Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Bronson closed his eyes and then set his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose. “And please do not curse in front of His Royal Highness or any other member of the royal family.”

Vince let out a small chuckle.

Good grief. I’ve got to make sure that I’m on my game tonight. Prince Oliver. Your Royal Highness. No handshaking. Curtsy. For the love of God, don’t swear. I guessed showing Bronson everything I learned yesterday was a bust.

“I think it would be best if you and Vincent took the rest of the morning to review and practice your curtsy. I will have Sonya fetch you once Clarence arrives.” Bronson took a final sip of his tea, stood, and walked out the door without another word. He hadn’t touched any food.

The air returned to the room once Bronson was gone, allowing Vince and I to make comfortable small talk as we ate our breakfast.

“Once you’re done eating, we can meet in the sunroom at the back of the manor. I think you’ll love it. Sonya will be waiting outside the door and can show you where to go. Please, take your time.” Vince stood and left out the same door as Bronson had.

With both of them gone, any attempt to be ladylike was out the window.

I finished scarfing down a cherry Danish, two slices of bacon, half a grapefruit, and eggs drenched in syrup—a habit I had picked up as a child that thoroughly grossed Sam out.

After flying yesterday and all of the nerves, my appetite had come back with vengeance.

Once I was done eating, I wiped my mouth and stepped out into the hall. True to Vince’s word, Sonya was there waiting.

“Right this way, dear.”

“Thank you, Sonya.” I smiled and followed her down the long hall to the back of the manor. We passed several doors that led to God-knew-where, as well as more paintings and sculptures. As we reached the back of the house, I was met with the most breathtaking view.

Like everything else in the manor, the sunroom was enormous and immediately became my favorite spot in the house.

The three outer walls were made of glass and overlooked a frozen river snaking through a snow-covered valley, a towering mountain visible in the distance. It was like stepping into a postcard.

At the back wall, a fire roared in the brick fireplace, which was flanked by two plush armchairs. There was already a tray of tea on the pedestal end table between the chairs.

Behind me, Vince asked, “What do you think?”

“I think I’m actually speechless.”

“That does seem unusual for you.”

I gave him a playful shove and rolled my eyes. He just chuckled and walked over to an armchair.

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