Page 51 of Royal Rising

“And I’m sorry,” Kate continues doggedly, “that everyone thought of you like a scarlet woman.”

Mabel glances down at her plaid shirt, which is tight around the chest and has one extra button undone. “I do like red.”

“It wasn’t fair,” Kate says. “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe him.”

“You’re apologizing to me?”

“Yes,” she says with a proud lift of her chin. “And I’d like to pay for your drink.”

Another shrug. “Suit yourself. I’m not one to say no to that.”

“I should have believed him,” Kate repeats.

Lyra nudges her. “It’s okay.”

“It is okay,” Mabel agrees. “You were young, and he is the Playboy Prince.”

“But he wasn’t then,” Kate says.

“No.” Mabel gives her a tiny smile. “He wasn’t.”

I let out the breath that I’ve been holding and Mabel glances at me. “What? Did you think I came over to cause trouble?”

“I think there’s a lot of history between you and them,” I tell her. “I came back last night to find a bar fight, so I don’t want Kalle coming back to the same thing.”

Mabel has a pretty, musical laugh that doesn’t go with the rest of her. “Shame I missed that. Don’t worry, Edie, I’ll be good.”

“Even though being good is boring,” Lyra cuts on.

“Have you grown up to be the royal rebel, then?” Mabel asks her. “I always thought it would be Kalle.”

I set three shots on the bar before anyone can make another comment. “No more for you?” Kate asks.

“I’m still working.”

“I want to go dancing,” Lyra complains as she clicks the tiny glasses with Mabel and Kate. “There really isn’t a good place to go around her for a girls’ night. Of course I like drinking for free at my brother’s pub—”

“Who says you’re drinking for free?” I demand.

Lyra waves a hand at me, nails bitten but still painted a vibrant turquoise. “Don’t worry, I tip exceedingly well. When Kalle started this place, I was still pretty depressed by our mother dying, and he promised that I would never have to pay for a drink here. You can ask him.” She blinks innocently at me.

I laugh. “I think I will since I’ve never heard that one before.”

“I will pay, because these are really good drinks.” Kate holds up her glass.

“I’d like somewhere to dance,” Lyra continues. “I haven’t been dancing since I’ve been back.”

“We danced at the wedding,” Kate said. “I danced with Jackson. It was nice.” Her smile droops.

Lyra nudges her shoulder. “We’re not talking about Jackson. We’re talking about dancing.”

“You can dance here.” I jerk my chin at the tiny piece of hardwood behind the pool table at the back of the room. “We push the tables back.”

“What do you do for music?” Lyra cocks her ear to listen for the background music all but drowned out by the raucous laughter at the pool table and the curling tournament playing on the three televisions mounted on the walls.

“I turn it up.” I set Kalle’s old iPhone on the bar before Lyra. “What do you want to listen to?”

Ten minutes later, Lyra has stopped the pool game, got the tables pushed back, and along with Kate, is bouncing on the make shift dance floor to Olivia Rodrigo.

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