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This actually feels like a home.
“Our room is on the third floor," Torin says, escorting me to the stairs.
"I get a tour later, right?" I ask.
"Anything you want." He hesitates. "I was going to say this is your home and you're free to go wherever you want, which is true, but I think we’ll both feel more truly at home on the ranch."
I nod. "It really is okay that we spend most of our time there?" I have a niggle of doubt about that. Torin is the prince. He’ll be the king someday. He needs to be here. He can’t hide out on the ranch.
"Of course."
"How far is it from here?"
We get to the first landing, and we turn to mount the second flight of stairs.
"It's about sixty minutes by car," he says.
"Oh, that's farther than I imagined."
He chuckles. "It’s where I get away."
Yeah. Like to the United States as often as possible.
I’ll feel much less overwhelmed and more comfortable on a ranch where I can't even see the palace. But the niggle tells me that’s not the right choice for Torin. Not only because he needs to be more involved in leading, but because he likes being involved, and talking to people.
And it might not be ideal for the farm. Yes, it probably needs to be set back a bit, but we want people to see what we’re doing. I want people to be able to come and tour. I don't want to lead the tours, of course, but I want the farm to be accessible.
And I want the king to see it. If the point is to convince Diarmuid of what a great idea this is, then he needs to see it all happening.
We finally get to the third floor. It looks like there's at least one more floor above us. Torin guides me down a wide hallway with another high ceiling. The rug under our feet is thick and soft. The artwork on the walls is a mix of landscapes and portraits. We stop at the fourth door on the right and he opens it, ushering me through.
"Wow, this is beautiful," I say as I step into Torin's private rooms.
Yes, rooms. Plural.
It's much more than just a bedroom. We step into a sitting room first. There is a sofa, a chair with an ottoman, a stone fireplace that looks like it's been upgraded from wood-burning to gas. There is also a television, a coffee table, and a huge bookcase. It looks like a very typical living room. Through a wide, arched doorway I can see a huge king-sized bed. Of course it’s king-sized. It's a four poster and up on a two-inch platform.
"Your bed’s on a stage?" I tease.
He chuckles. "I definitely like stepping off onto that wooden platform first thing in the morning in the winter then onto the cold stone floor."
I look down. There are plush rugs all over the floor in here as well, but sure enough, there are stone floors underneath our feet here too.
I assume the bathroom is through the bedroom. To my right is a small kitchen area, with a refrigerator, very fancy coffee machine that I'm excited to use, and microwave.
"I almost don't ever need to leave this area," I tell him. "
"Believe me, if I could keep you in here to myself, I would. We’ll try to make the meeting with my grandfather brief."
He kisses me but it’s just a brush of his lips. I want so much more. I start to arch closer, but he lifts his head.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” he tells me.
Oh.
It’s going to be difficult to ignore the fact that he’s just on the other side of the door. Naked.
And we’re officially married now.
