The Rejected True Heiress (Liora and Callum) novel Chapter 428

Liora’s POV

The palace felt different today.

I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous. I had spent most of my life walking these halls, and coming home always felt like a relief. But today, my heart was thumping, and as we pulled up through the circular driveway, I had to take a breath to calm myself.

Callum said nothing for a moment. Just looked up at the palace with his mouth slightly open.

“So. You grew up here,” he said after a bit.

“I did.”

“Huh. Interesting,” he said, and I rolled my eyes but smiled.

The head butler met us at the front door. His white gloves made me shudder, but I pushed the thoughts down. He bowed deeply at the waist.

“Welcome home, Princess,” he said. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“I know. Is my father home?”

“His Majesty is expected back by late afternoon. He had an engagement this morning, but he left word that he would return for dinner.”

I glanced at Callum. “Come on. I’ll show you around while we wait.”

The butler nodded and stepped aside, and I led Callum into the entrance hall.

I heard his footsteps slow behind me.

The entrance hall was, admittedly, impressive. High vaulted ceilings with an enormous glass and gold chandelier. Marble floors so polished you could see your reflection in them. Two staircases curving up on either side to the second floor landing, where portraits of my father and his father and his father’s father all looked sternly down at us.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather,” I said, pointing up at the one on the far left.

Callum looked up at the portrait and swallowed. “Cheerful-looking guy.”

“He wasn’t, from what I understand.”

“This is… bigger than I expected. Which is saying something, since it’s a palace and all.” He walked in and stopped in front of the bookshelf, tilting his head at the titles. Then he turned, taking in the rest of it, and his gaze landed on the wardrobe. He opened it.

The wardrobe was near full to bursting. Gowns, mostly, in every imaginable color and fabric, pressed and ordered by occasion. Formal, semi-formal, garden party, dinner. I had grown up in gowns the way other people grew up in jeans.

Callum stared at them for a long moment. Then he looked at me. His lips twitched.

“Not one word,” I said.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Yes, you were. I could tell.”

He turned back to the wardrobe. “It’s just…” He reached in and held out the skirt of a pale gold one near the front. “I’m so used to seeing you in your usual jeans and sweaters with your hair in a messy braid and that raggedy old satchel on your shoulder. It’s weird thinking about you walking around a palace in gowns, living in a room that’s bigger than half of the dorms put together.”

“If it’s any consolation,” I said, “I think I prefer the jeans and the raggedy satchel.” I stood, walking over to meet him, and pulled out the gown the rest of the way. “Although, I do like the occasional gown. Speaking of which…”