Page 89 of Royally Drawn

“Being wonderful with children is different from parenting them.”

I wasn’t sure I saw myselfhavingchildren. The pain of loss riddled me nervous about attachment. I wanted to say I wanted children and was capable of having them, but I didn’t think I was mentally prepared at the moment.

“Do you not want them?”

“Not right now, obviously,” I said, hoping Ingrid dropped the topic.

I wanted to be home in bed with her fifteen minutes ago—slowly unwinding her until she screamed my name. I didn’t want to think about impregnating her and raising children. I tried to avoid that.

“I want kids,” Ingrid said. “Eventually. Honestly, I think seeing men with babies is probably the most disastrous thing.”

“Disastrous?” I laughed. “How?”

“Oh, I don’t mean men cannot parent. Rick is a brilliant dad and loves those kids so much. It’s the extreme level of broodiness that comes with it. Again, I’m not interested in children right now, but you’ll understand. Alexandra will pop any minute, and if you’re around to hold the baby, I will want you even more.”

“Protection is good,” I said.

“Very. But that base urge isstrong. I don’t know how to describe it. Seeing a hot man be cute with children only makes me realise thatsomedayI want a baby—even if that idea is frightening. Maybe I shouldn’t say that.”

“I think most women do,” I said. “That ticking clock is a biological norm. It’s not unique.”

“Well, most women didn’t lose their mothers in childbirth.”

Ingrid’s voice dropped, leaving me feeling like an asshole. I’d made a joke, and now—even unintended—it felt like it was at her expense.

“I love you, Ingrid,” I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. It must frighten you. And… I dunno.”

“It’s stupid. Bringing up babies was stupid. I’m just… excited because I love my nieces and nephew, and we don’t know if this one will be a boy or a girl. It’s all exciting.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Ingrid.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“Well, when someone jokes about having cancer and doesn’t have it, I get pretty cross, so I didn’t want to do that to you, my love.”

Resting her head on my shoulder, she said, “I know. I’d never assume you would.”

A Detour

INGRID

No more had Keir arrived than he was headed home. Our lot was a sad one. I’d be back in the UK for Burghley in a week, but Keir would be off for a training run in Wales. I’d not see him again until the week of Astrid’s wedding. And as we sat in bed the morning of his day to leave, I wanted nothing more than to beg him to stay with me. I knew he couldn’t, but I needed it.

We were curled up in bed that morning. He read the paper—in French with zero issues—and I sketched trees from my palace bedroom windows with chalk pastels.

“Do you ever think about what will happenafteryou leave?” I asked.

“Here? Back to the grind, reporting to our exercise at Valley? Dealing with Duncan managing us from the goddamn tower?”

I snickered. “Not that. I mean, after all of it, youwillretire, yes?”

Keir shrugged. “It’s not easy to just walk away, Ingrid. I enrolled in the academy at seventeen. Fifteen years in, and I still have more to do. I know I should retire and assist my cousin and my aunt. But for now, Aunt Natalie seems fairly happy to do it all herself.”

“I get that guilt,” I said. “I think about leaving. Astrid did—has.And I have, but I might come back. I think Alexandra and Rick would like it if I came back.”

Keir looked up, squinted and said, “There’s no way you stay here.”

“What?” I laughed.

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