“The Queen said you needed light in dark places,” Renato said gravely. “And ambiance.”
Okay. I was obsessed.
There were at least three sitting rooms. Two libraries. A conservatory with singing birds imported from the East. A tearoom that smelled like heaven and secrets. And a training room.
For what?
“Lightning practice,” he said casually, as if that’s a normal sentence.
Then came my room.
And by “room” I mean—
The Divine Chamber of Abby, Goddess of Glow-Ups.
Double doors opened into a sanctuary that slapped me in the face with elegance.
Silken canopy bed the size of a royal carriage. Velvet chaise. Gold-trimmed vanity. Bookshelves. Private balcony overlooking a lake with lotus flowers, because why not.
And then—
Renato opened the wardrobe.
I cried.
Silks. Satins. Leathers. La
