She laughed. “Not the point. At all.”
“We now have thirty minutes.” I untangled her from my neck. “There will be a bag packed for you. Would you like to speak to Ayla about personal items? She will be assigned to you.”
“Assigned to me? What are you talking about?”
I folded the lodestar and stacked it on top of my desk. “You need a royal manager to assist you on the trip. I trust her. Kenley would be better, but she’s with Dominic today. She knows how to deal with him.”
“I don’t need a manager. And I’m capable of packing my own bag.”
I faced her. “Have you ever attended an official royal event of any kind? A tea? A dinner? A ball?”
She shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor.
I lifted her chin. “That is why you have a royal manager. Ayla will prepare everything. She will get you through it.”
“This seems intense.”
“It’s life as a royal.” There was no other way to explain it.
I saw her fidget with the T-shirt. “I need to call my roommate. Brooklyn is probably freaking out. And my laptop. Shit, I forgot about it. All my notes.” She covered her eyes with her palms. “Everything is at the library.”
I pointed to a bag next to the elevator. “That laptop?”
Molly ran to the entrance and bent. I smiled at the view.
She unzipped the top and pulled out the contents. “My phone!” She pressed the buttons and began chatting. I walked to the bedroom. There were a few things I wanted to include in my bag, and it was none of my royal manager’s damned business what I needed for a night with Molly.
Twenty-Two
Molly
Brooklyn had been sleeping, but she was glad I called. “I heard about the royal guard at the library, so I sorta figured it was him.”
“Yes. It was. And I just got my phone. I would have called sooner.” Neglecting Brooklyn was turning into a bad habit.
“It’s fine. Really. I get it. You’re with the king.”
“I’m not going to be home again tonight.” Damon walked to the bedroom and closed the door. I had a second of privacy to talk to my best friend.
“Why not?”
“I’m attending a royal trip.” It sounded like the best way to put it. I certainly wasn’t going to run through the irrigation issues. Brooklyn wasn’t interested in politics.
“Holy shit, Mol. That’s crazy.” She suddenly seemed more awake.
“It kinda is, isn’t it?”
“And what about your dissertation?”
I looked at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it was carved with ornate designs. “It’s ok if I leave it for another day, right? I’m being spontaneous. You have to do it. I would if I could.” I wondered if she was still melancholy over the guy from gala night.
“Oh, I agree. This is totally spontaneous.”
The bedroom door opened. Damon stood, holding a small overnight bag.
“Hey, I have to go, Brooklyn. But I have my phone now.”
“Thanks for letting me know.”