Page 5 of A Royal Promise
Bri shoved her phone back into her pocket, trying to push aside her worries. She continued her walk back home with Bastian trailing at a reasonable distance behind her to allow for privacy.
But the closer she got to the palace, the more her mind wandered to Drew. She’d thought maybe he was just busy this week and that was why he seemed more distant than usual, but Bri was concerned there was something he wasn’t telling her.
He’d still sent her his usual morning texts, but she knew him well enough to recognize something felt off. Earlier in the week, Drew had told her Clarissa’s family was visiting, and ever since, he’d been acting strangely. After today’s response, she was certain something was up. He’d been secretive about whatever paper he was holding at Rosalie’s wedding last weekend too. All her thoughts left Bri with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She forced a smile onto her face as she stepped back into the palace.
“Welcome back, Your Highness,” the palace’s head butler greeted her, his disposition cheerful. He extended a glass of iced tea to her, which she gladly accepted. “How was your walk today?”
She took a sip of the drink, savoring the sweetened black tea with a hint of peach puree. Bri let out a contented sigh. Sweet tea had been her favorite since she was a little girl sneaking it up to her treehouse with Drew.
“The spring air made the hike perfect.”
Bastian scoffed from behind her.
She shot him a sassy smile over her shoulder. “Fine, perfect minus the one time I slipped.” Bri held up a hand when the butler’s eyes went wide. “I’m good. Bastian was there to save me. You know, since it’shis job?” She could practically feel her bodyguard roll his eyes behind her.
“If you say so, Your Highness,” the butler said warily.
Bri stood taller and nodded. “I’m going to head down to the kitchen to see if—”
“I’ve already had a bowl of watermelon sent to your room.”
She might have a slight—major—obsession with watermelon. The palace staff knew this and imported it from other countries year-round to ensure it was always fresh and ripe.
“You’re the best.” Bri headed toward her room, offering a quick shout of thanks over her shoulder.
Upon reaching her bedroom, she immediately took a big bite out of a slice of watermelon. Bri did a little dance with her shoulders as the refreshing flavor hit her tastebuds.
She took another sip of her peach tea before plopping down on the blush-pink settee in the sitting area. Pulling out her phone, Bri began scrolling through her favorite travel blogger’s feed, dreaming about where she would travel next. When she clicked on a photo of a gorgeous mountain view along with a crystal-blue lake, she immediately knew Banff would be her next destination.
Maybe Drew could go with her and row her around in one of the cute rowboats in the pictures the travel blogger had shared. But that would mean she would have to persuade her best friend to be spontaneous and leave work behind for a week.
A dry laugh escaped her lips at the thought ofDrewbeing spontaneous.
She finished her sweet tea and watermelon before popping up off the couch. Checking the time on her phone, she realized she was late for her scheduled meeting with her father. Bri rushed toone of the palace’s conference rooms. She always looked forward to their weekly standing meeting. She felt awful whenever she was late, which happened more often than she cared to admit.
Bri stepped into the small conference room just as a figure jumped out from behind the doorway, yelling, “Boo!”
“Phillip!” she squealed, holding a hand to her racing heart. Her brother was only three years younger than her, but Phillip had never gotten over his teenage pranking phase. “You’re the worst.” She swatted at his arm, and he jumped away, laughing.
“At least you didn’t have a drink this time.” Phillip raised his pointer finger in the air, a wry grin on his lips.
Bri shoved her brother’s shoulder. “Youdeserveanother drink to the face.”
“Drinks don’t mix well with my devilishly handsome features.”
She rolled her eyes and walked over to her usual chair, falling back into it with an exasperated sigh. When she heard retreating footsteps, she called out, “Make sure you duck, or your enlarged ego might hit the doorframe on the way out.”
“You think you’re so funny—” Her brother’s voice was cut off by atsksound.
Her father’s warm, deep baritone voice filled the room. “Are you still pulling pranks, Phillip?”
“It’s not my fault people don’t know how to take a joke,” Phillip mumbled from the door.
Her father released a humorless laugh, but she saw the smile he attempted to hide behind his hand. Even though he was now a king, Bri would bet all the watermelon in the world that her father had acted a lot like her younger brother back in his youth.
The door gently clicked shut, and her father came and placed a kiss on the top of her head before taking the seat across from her.
