“I’ll show him, Mother,” Vivienne replies, rolling her eyes.

“I thought you had some obligations to take care of this afternoon,” the queen replies.

“Nope,” Vivienne responds. “We’ll see you at dinner.”

“Very well.” Vivienne’s mother heads off in the same direction as her father.

“Sorry about that,” Viv tells me. “My mother finds most tasks to be ones best handled by the staff.”

“Feel free to pass me off to a butler if there’s something you need to do,” I reply.

Vivienne laughs. “I definitely don’t. My mother’s just trying to keep us apart.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Why is that?”

“I think they’re a little unsure how to act around you. I was pretty vague about our relationship, ergo the ‘good friends’ controversy.”

“I’m familiar with it. Nothing tells your ex it’s over quite like the friend zone, followed by getting engaged to another guy.”

Viv looks startled, so I hold my serious expression for a few more seconds before relaxing it into a grin.

“I’m kidding, Viv.”

“I think you’ve gotten less funny. I didn’t think that was possible,” she shoots back.

I laugh as I start to follow her up the stairs. The varnished banister feels as smooth as glass. I let out a low whistle as I survey the elaborate entryway from this new vantage point.

“So…this is where Princess Vivienne grew up, huh?” I ask, echoing her words from when I brought her to my home.

She laughs. “Yes. What do you think?”

“It’s…nice.” Understatement of the century.

Viv smirks. I follow her down a series of long carpeted hallways lined with expensive looking paintings. Finally, we reach a more modern hallway with marble floors and white walls.

“Is there any way I can get a map of this place?” I ask. This time I’m not joking, but Viv smiles anyway.

“I’ll be your tour guide,” she promises.

We finally arrive outside a wooden carved door Viv stops at. She opens it to reveal a massive four-poster bed made out of dark lacquered wood. The thick navy bedspread spread across it matches the hanging velvet drapes. Frames filled with expensive, fancy artwork hang on the walls. I can’t believe Viv stayed in my parents’ laundry room when she visited. I’ve never felt ashamed of my upbringing, but the level of decadence that Viv grew up surrounded with is both astounding and intimidating.

She seems to sense my trepidation. “It’s pretty over the top, I know.”

“Are you sure there’s not a laundry room I can stay in instead?” Even that’s probably luxurious.

“It’s just a bunch of expensive stuff my family inherited, Jace,” Viv says softly.

I look over at her, and understanding pulses between us. This. This right here is what I was trying to convey to Gretchen. Gretchen may have grown up with me, but Vivienne has always had some uncanny sense of my true feelings. She read the underlying insecurity in my joke.

“Did you bring a swimsuit?” is how she breaks the poignant moment.