“Ever since I finished my master’s,” he explained. “So, gosh, I would guess now about eight years.”
Keira did the math in her head quickly and concluded he was in his early thirties, and was alarmed when the first thought to cross her mind was perfect.
She wondered, with a sudden jolt of cynicism, whether this had been planned by her magazine. Perhaps Milo was a plant, a temptation, to see whether she could stick to her assignment. Then she checked herself. She was getting paranoid!
“What did you study?” Keira asked, intrigued. “For your master’s, I mean?”
“History,” Milo told her. He gestured to the palace and smiled. “Hence the job here.”
“Yes, it’s quite fitting, I suppose,” Keira said with a blush, feeling suddenly dumb.
Tourists started filing into the palace, cameras in hand li
