Page 52 of Royally Drawn

I looked over as she grew quiet. She was blushing, trying to come up with words. I’d been too genuine, perhaps. I didn’t know how else to be with her. I didn’t like the idea of lying to her as she was too clever to fall for anyone’s bullshit. She gave as good as she got. Thankfully, my final clearance over the radio came to rescue us from awkward silence.

“Cleared for take-off,” I said.

“Do I just… hold on?” Ingrid panicked.

“You’re in the seat and fine,” I laughed. “Stay where you are. This is not going to be a rough ride. We have beautiful weather.”

I spun up the engines and released the brake. We were off running. The 601 was a pilot’s dream. It was zippy and fun to fly. It wasn’t as simple as a comparable Cessna, but who wanted to be bored? The only pain point was that this thing guzzled fuel like my mother inhaled iced coffee in summer. Which was to say you filled it up on every trip. The one time I got cocky with this beast and ignored my aunt’s advice, I ended up coming in mostly like a glider with a pan-pan call. To say she was disappointed in me for neglecting her would be a vast understatement. Today, we were full up. Nothing impressed a woman less than running out of fuel.

We took off, the wind lifting us, and headed southwest. We could do a visual flight without issue, as visibility was unseasonably good for Norfolk in May, and everything was coming up roses today.

“Are we done now?” Ingrid asked.

I tried not to laugh as I checked in. “Climbing to 5000.”

“Roger. You got it, Chef.”

“Don’t you have an official rank or something? Like a Colonel or Chancellor orsomething?”

I laughed at that, unable to hold back. “Oh, Ingrid, I’m sorry. Do you nothavearmed forces in Neandia?”

“We have not for years. I have never shot a gun, nor do I intend to. I consider myself a pacifist, so why would I care? I think it’s men with a small man complex blowing shit up. So, apologies if I don’t know any better. We’re a neutral country and have been for two centuries.”

She crossed her arms. I gathered her overreaction came from embarrassment, and I’d hit a nerve.

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I promise we’re not up here to fire any missiles. I leave that to my daily driver.”

“Which is? Another old plane?”

She thought I was having fun at her expense. Unfortunately, I was annoyed she’d just shat all over what I did for a living as if it were silly.

“A bomber,” I answered. “That blows shit up. But I promise you I’m not going to do anything wild. This aircraft is near and dear to me. I do have a rank. Up here, I’m Squadron Leader Inverness. And you can disagree with what I do when we get down to the ground, okay?”

My voice was hot. I’d only wanted to impress her, but she wasn’t that simple. It seemed when I was in bed with her, she was easy to please. Now that we had to converse, I struggled. The playing field levelled. She tilted her body, resting her head against the window, ignoring me. Fuck, I needed to grovel again. Flying with a person that hated your guts wasn’t much fun. I dialled in the autopilot and sighed, thinking about what to do next.

“I don’t like people acting like I’m stupid,” Ingrid said. “I’m clever. Not like Astrid is, perhaps. I’ll never be Dr Deschamps, but… I am not just a walking pair of tits. It gets old. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but you’re acting like I’m an idiot. You do not get what my life has been like… okay? What it is. So, stop treating me like I’m an idiot. Also, English isnotmy first language. Don’t make fun of me for not knowing technical terms.”

I looked over at her, her voice calmer. “I am sorry, Ingrid. That wasn’t my intent. I… I don’t mean this in a bad way, but… you don’t know anything about aviation. You know less than pretty much anyone, and… I thought you were being silly.”

“I lived under lock and key until I was thirteen,” Ingrid said. “Andeven then, I was still quite sheltered. My first flight came when Rick and Alexandra took us to Lundhavn for the first time. I don’t have brothers, and Rick’s a dandy. What was he going to do? Talk to us about planes. No.”

I snickered at that characterisation. “Ah, that’s not totally fair to Rick the Prick. He’s quite the mariner. If he taught you about those things—and you know quite a bit about sailing—he’s nottoomuch a dandy.”

She looked at me, then giggled. “The nickname never dies.”

“No, Velcro, it doesn’t.”

She softened. “Okay, so tell me about the plane. I’m sorry I insulted him… or her… or it.”

“I will stick to basics because you do not care about everything, I could tell you. This plane was the first one I ever worked on. My grandfather flew it for years. It sat disused and was destined for a museum. When I turned twelve, my aunt decided to refurb it. In the span of a summer, we rebuilt the engine and put it back together. I learned a lot. I got my instrument rating in this thing before I could even drive, of course.”

“Your aunt… the Queen?”

I chuckled. “Yes. She has a hangar and rebuilds things. She’ll hide away there if she wants to be left alone. You know those people you hate for being gifted at all things?”

Ingrid nodded. “In our case, that’s Astrid.”

“Well, she’s like that. She taught me much about flight, and we still sometimes rebuild things.”

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