Page 48 of Royal Resistance

While this is going on, Benny goes through Magnus’s things. After the walls are painted, he hangs the platinum record, as well as a glass case containing his gold medal, on the wall.

And his guitar.

The room is finished on the fourth day. “I didn’t think we’d pull this off,” Diandra says, turning to study the work that we had done. “It looks great.”

“It looks like Magnus.”

“It really does,” she agrees. “And that you can see that bodes well for you two.”

I like Diandra, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing my relationship with Magnus. Probably because I don’t quite understand it myself.

I find that I miss him more than I thought I would.

“You know what we should do?” Diandra asks. “Celebrate this.”

“How do you celebrate decorating a room?” Although I am proud of what we’ve accomplished, I don’t need a party for it. But he has to come home for that.

Tomorrow. He’ll be home tomorrow, and the thought sends a flood of happiness through me.

“Let’s go for a drink in Battle Harbour,” Diandra says.

“I have no suitable clothes for drinks in Battle Harbour,” I admit.

“I know that, so I bought you a bunch of fun clothes.”

Magnus has mentioned a few times that he’d be happy to take me shopping, or at least provide a credit card to pay for what I need, but I’ve been too busy to take him up on it. Plus, I’m not sure what I would buy.

I’ve always had a closet full of clothes, but they were always somber and conservative, in shades of neutral that will never go out of style, nor will ever really be in style. They are clothes more suitable for a queen-in-training, or a woman much older than my twenty-nine years.

In Avelaine, I dressed to be seen, to impress those who might have seen my age as a disadvantage. I’ve never dressed in anything that I was comfortable in… or made me feel sexy.

Living in Laandia, I’m surprised that I want to feel sexy.

I want Magnus to think I look sexy.

For the first time in my life, I want to impress a man. My man.

Diandra helps with that.

She’s bought me jeans—so many styles and colours that I’ll never be able to pick a favourite. And the sizes fit perfectly.

With the bag of denim, comes T-shirts and tops that I would never be able to wear at a state dinner, but might be perfect for a night out dancing.

If I weren’t the queen of Laandia.

“I can’t wear this,” I tell her for the fifth time.

“You can’t wear anything else, or you’ll stand out. And you don’t want that. Laandia is a different place, and we don’t want to treat our royals any differently than the regular folk. You need to pretend that you’re regular folk here.”

“I’ve never done that,” I admit, in a quiet voice. I stare at my reflection, dressed in low-cut jeans that hug my hips and long legs, and a simple black T-shirt that shows a thin stripe of skin when I lift my arm. I see a queen staring back at me, dressed inappropriately.

At least, in Avelaine, it would be seen as inappropriate.

In Laandia, though… “Are you sure? I don’t want to embarrass Magnus.”

“Magnus will love it. He just wants you to be happy here, and for you to be yourself.”

“I’m not sure who that is,” I admit to my reflection. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”