Royal Scandal (ROYAL BLOOD #2) by Aimée Carter EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Aimée Carter
- Language: English
- Genre: YA
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.8 MB
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The Regal Record, 18 December 2023
“ I’M WELL AWARE THAT BEING on time isn’t a priority for you,” says
Tibby, clutching her phone like she’s about to chuck it at my tiara. “But
could you at least pretend to care that I’m about to lose my bloody job?”
I’m leaning against the wall in the long gallery of Windsor Castle,
trying to keep my head upright as I fiddle with a strap on my stiletto. My
gown isn’t making it any easier, and as I set my foot down, the heel snags
and comes dangerously close to ripping the shimmering burgundy fabric.
“It’s my shoe,” I mutter, untangling my hem. “One of the straps is
loose.”
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Tibby arches an eyebrow as I test my weight again. Somehow, despite
what has been an obscenely long day full of trivial appointments and lastminute fittings, Lady Tabitha Finch-Parker-Covington-Boyle’s black pixie
cut is still perfectly styled, and her tailored gray dress doesn’t have a single
piece of lint on it. Unfortunately for both of us, this superpower has yet to
rub off on me in the six months she’s been my personal secretary/babysitter,
and no one is more aggrieved by my failure to develop a completely new
personality than Tibby.
“I don’t care if the heel’s broken off and you’re walking on your
tiptoes,” she says. “We cannot be late, Evan.”
“We’re not late.” As I resume my march down the corridor, now with a
noticeably uneven gait, I glance through the nearest window and into the
dark courtyard beyond. A line of luxury vehicles snakes along the opposite
wing of Windsor Castle, and royal footmen hoist umbrellas as tonight’s
guests exit their cars and step into the December downpour. “Okay, we’re a
little late, but—”
“There is no such thing as a ‘little’ late,” says Tibby. “If His Majesty
discovers you’re missing, it’ll be my neck on the block, not yours.”
“He’ll be too busy with the president to notice. Besides, they don’t need
me for the pictures, and I’m not escorting anyone inside.”
“An unforgivable oversight,” says Tibby irritably, as if this, too, is
somehow my fault. “You’re His Majesty’s daughter, and you’re American.
You should be in the procession, preferably on the arm of a member of the
president’s family. Your absence will only start another wave of rumors in
the press.”
“I start rumors by breathing,” I say. “Besides, it’d be an insult to pair
me with anyone important.”
Tibby sniffs. “Illegitimate or not, you’re still of royal blood.”
“Which is the only reason I’m part of this dog and pony show in the
first place,” I say. “That and the fact that the universe has a terrible sense of
humor.”
By the time we turn the corner and pass the royal family’s private
apartments, my scalp is throbbing. I reach up to adjust the Queen Florence
tiara that’s secured to my braided updo, but before my fingers can even
graze the glittering headpiece, Tibby swats my hand away.
“Don’t you dare,” she says with more vehemence than usual. “Can you
imagine the headlines if your tiara falls off in front of the Royal Rota? The
metaphor alone—”
“The pins are digging in,” I protest. “I think my scalp might actually be
bleeding.”
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