Vlad leaned against the counter, close to me. “I was just going to say that I wouldn’t mind one myself.”

“But you’re a black coffee kind of guy.”

“Sometimes I like sweet,” he teased.

“I guess I’m dealing with Mr. Sunny Sunshine now.”

I pulled out another mug from the cupboard, fixed him a cup of hot chocolate, and handed him the mug. He did not wait before taking his first sip. How were we simply getting along?

Vlad put his mug down. “Mr. Sunny who?”

“Nothing. I’m glad one of us is in a good mood.”

His company was already making me feel better. It seemed like I wasn’t going to be able to escape Vladimir Ambrosia during the rest of the Gathering. And it hit me like Zeus’s lightning bolt: I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.

Vlad ended up staying for the rest of the night. When I swung my bedroom door open in the morning, he sat reading the newspaper on the couch—already bathed and looking fresh despite wearing last night’s clothes. Without even saying good morning, he jumped right in with, “I called Kristen—she won’t be having breakfast with us. She wants to experience all the activities of her first Gathering, so she’ll be following the official schedule. Should we call Adrian?”

We hadn’t heard from Adrian since last night and it worried me a little. “Sure. Give me five minutes.” I headed back into the bedroom to make myself look somewhat presentable.

Hey, you’ve reached the one and only Adrian Ambrosia. Unfortunately, today is not your lucky day. I’m currently busy being awesome, so just leave your message at the beep!

“He’s probably still sleeping,” I commented after we’d tried for the third time.

“Yeah. Maybe we should just pick him up along the way.”

Fifteen minutes later, we knocked on the expansive, intimidating double doors of Adrian’s family suite in the Royal Quarters, and their maid, Althea, let us in. Though Vlad had clearly been here many times before, the maid led the way up a beautiful spiral staircase to a far-reaching hallway lined with portraits of Ambrosia ancestors. She stopped in front of the third room on the left and, without knocking, opened the door.

Adrian was in bed with a girl. She had her back to us, but I could tell from her red hair that she wasn’t the same girl who had kissed Adrian last night during our game of Basilinda. He certainly did get around. My eyes took in his hard pecs before I quickly turned around, not wanting to intrude any more than we had by barging into his room unannounced.

“You have guests, Lord Ambrosia,” the maid announced before making her way back down the hallway to the stairs, not a care in the world. Who knew a maid could get away with that in a Royal household?