The Royals Upstairs Read Online Karina Halle

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
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“Likewise, Your Majesty,” I tell him, trying not to wince.

He rolls his eyes. “Please. Call me Magnus. Not Prince Magnus, not Your Royal Highness, and definitely not Your Majesty. You’re part of the family now.”

“Right,” I tell him, feeling a wee bit unsteady, like I’m still standing on ice. His energy is pretty intense.

“It’s nice to have a Scotsman joining us,” he says with a wink. “You know we’re probably related, going way back, since Scotland was the first step for us Vikings.”

“Back then with all the plundering?”

“Yes, the plundering and the ravaging of the local ladies and all that unsavory stuff.” He grins at me. Not only is he built like a Viking, he looks like one too. Though he’s wearing a long gray cable-knit sweater and jeans, I know he’s famous for his tattoos. Then he’s got the scruffy beard and the longish wavy dark hair. “Like I said, you’re family now.”

“Speaking of family,” Ottar says to Magnus as he walks into the house, “it turns out that Laila and James know each other. Gave him quite the surprise.”

Magnus stops in the front hall and gives me a curious look. “You didn’t know she was working for us?” He then glances at Ottar. “Laila was the nanny for the duke and duchess, just as James was their PPO. I believe they worked together for about two years?”

I nod, clearing my throat. I hate that this whole thing has caught me completely off guard. “That sounds about right.”

The thing is, if I had given all of this a little more thought, if I’d had a little more time, I’m sure I might have come to this conclusion. When Eddie first told me I had a chance to move to Norway, memories of Laila drifted through my head. She’d left her position as nanny to the Fairfaxes because her beloved grandmother, who lived in a tiny village in Northern Norway, had gotten sick and she wanted to be with her. I know it was a tough decision for Laila to make, but since her grandmother raised her and they were especially close, she didn’t have much choice.

At that point, Laila thought I was an outright wanker, so we weren’t really on speaking terms anyway. The most I would get out of her was a stiff nod of recognition as we passed each other in the halls. One day I found out that she was gone and that was that. Never heard from her, or about her, again. Until now.

“Must be a relief to see a familiar face,” Magnus says to me. “That’s why I put your room right next to hers.”

Bloody hell.

Two

JAMES

“Come, I’ll show you to your quarters,” Magnus says, motioning for me to follow. We turn down a long hall, the walls dark wood and adorned with paintings of forests and pastoral scenes, interspersed with the occasional vintage photograph in a gold frame and wooden heirlooms.

“We have a house for the rest of the servants and help,” Magnus says as we walk, our boots echoing down the dark hall. “But we like to keep our closest members close to us. Downstairs you’ll find your bedroom, Laila’s, Ottar’s, and Ella’s lady-in-waiting, Jane. Jane has been Ella’s closest friend and advisor for a long time, though she’s a handful, I’m warning you,” he adds with a conspiratorial grin.

At this point I’m wondering who isn’t a handful in this house.

“Upstairs has the guest bedrooms, plus mine and Ella’s, the kids’ rooms, and a nursery…not that we’re planning on any more, but you never know. Perhaps one day we’ll add to the chaos.”

“And your personal bodyguard?” I ask.

Magnus laughs. “Einar. He’s around. He has his own little cabin out in the trees. He prefers to be alone when he can, lord knows why since he’s locked in his brain most of the time.”

We stop outside a door, and Magnus opens it, striding on in.

It’s a nice room, on the large side. A king-size four-poster bed in teak, dark blue walls with gold designs along the top. A window that looks out onto the white fields and the rows of frosted pine trees beyond. The isolation already feels suffocating, and there’s a bit of a draft, ice on the edges of the windowpane.

Ottar takes my suitcase and places it on the suitcase holder, struggling with the weight.

“That’s all you brought?” Magnus asks incredulously, pointing at the suitcase.

I shrug. “You get used to living out of a suitcase.”

“I bet, but you worked for Eddie for how many years?”

“Four.” What I’m not about to get into is how I’ve basically lived out of a suitcase my whole life. Growing up in various foster homes will teach you to never put your roots down for long. I’m actually surprised I lasted as long with the duke and duchess as I did.


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