Page 43 of Royally Drawn

“They couldn’t just find a better horse, could they?” Duncan asked. Are they not able to purchase horses?”

“Don’t ask such a stupid question,” Uncle Olav said. “One does not simplypurchasea horse. They are invited to purchase a horse, or they breed the damn thing, feed it for a million years, and maybe it’s good enough to work out.”

“Why would you want to do that? It’s not even going to earn money like a racehorse. Every horse has a price.”

“Not all do, Duncan,” Aunt Kiersten said. “I once decided to date my older sister’s friend just to move to Norway for a horse.”

She laughed, looking over at her husband.

“Thank God that pony was irreplaceable to your coach,” Uncle Olav chuckled. “I’d have not stood a chance otherwise.”

Ingrid saluted. She gave her horse big pats on the neck and hugged him as she came out of the ring.

“She did beautifully!” Aunt Kiersten clarified. “That’s going to be a great score.”

“She will need it for X-C,” Betty confirmed. “He’s not fast like the TBs.”

“She’ll return to it in the stadium,” Cici said. “He has the most beautiful round jump. He makes it look like a gorgeous, handy hunter. It’s ridiculous. They’re as pretty as a picture. You’ll see, Mamma.”

“We should go… help,” Duncan said.

“You will not be helpful, Duncan,” Aunt Natalie laughed. “Let Cici and Betty go.”

“I’m supposed to toil,” I sighed, pretending I did not want to see Ingrid. “So, I should go.”

I followed my sister and cousins to the stables, finding Astrid and Ingrid chatting about her ride while Parker nervously stood as far away from the horses as possible. The man was a bit of a hermit—a kind one when he finally adjusted—but he was no horseman.

He asked, “It went well… I think?”.

“It went brilliantly if you ask the people who know,” I said, patting him on the back.

“There are only about ten more riders,” Betty said. Do you want to join us in our box now that she’s done?”

Astrid looked at Parker.

“I can just stay here. I’ll torture myself,” Ingrid said.

“Why?” Cici laughed. “You did an amazing job. People are asking why they’ve never seen this beautiful dressage rider who showed up.”

“Until they see me on the course tomorrow.”

“We have beer,” I offered. “If you’d like to take a load off, we have food and drink.”

“You’re famished. Let’s go over there,” Astrid insisted. “You did a great job.”

I was relieved but soon tortured by Ingrid sitting beside Betty in the first row, chatting alone. It was like I didn’t exist—or couldn’t. I gave up on anything happening—for now. Later, I’d make a move.

Not Losing Hope

INGRID

By some miracle, my international debut went alright. Out of nearly 100 horse and rider combinations, I was ranked ninth going into cross-country. So, on Saturday, I was in a great mood. I’d left in my horse’s braids, too in love with these plaits, to pull them out. The protocol for small events was to leave them in. While I had time to change things up at this massive competition, I preferred Kraken dapper and left them in.

“He’s a princess pony,” Betty cooed, kissing Kraken’s nose. “So handsome.”

“You’ll embarrass him, Betty,” Keir laughed.

He was holding the horse—as if it mattered. Kraken had long gone to sleep, in his zen state going into day two. He would wind up when I took him into the warm-up, but now he slept lip drooping.

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