Page 2 of Royally Drawn

“Yet I don’t get an Old Fashioned?” Betty called back.

“You are a baby. You get what you get. It’s not even legal for you to drink liquor at home,” Lars said as they left.

“I fucking hate it,” Betty groaned. “Everyone treats me like a damn child.”

“They do, yes,” I said. “I get it.”

“And how do you deal?”

“I left the country. The only one who gets it is Odette. She’s my ride-or-die. We were always the ‘little girls.’ We were still young when Alex and Rick married. Since our parents passed away, they were the closest thing we had to parents.”

Odette was two years my senior. She was the typical middle child but recently struggled in ways we did not discuss publicly. Despite some personal setbacks, she remained positive and dedicated to the family. I doubted she’d ever leave Neandia.

“So, I must go abroad?” Betty laughed. “Well, mission accomplished.”

The boys returned with our drinks.

“First class service by a shirtless bartender,” Cici mooned.

Isak kissed her. “Yes, elskling.”

“I am a lucky woman.”

“Oh, stop it. I’m going to puke!” Betty groaned.

I laughed. It was sweet.

“And both princesses get whatever the hell they want.”

Lars delivered our drinks. “Betty, you got what you asked for. I didn’t leave you hanging.”

Betty gleefully took a sip and pulled a face. Unwilling to admit this was a poor choice, she smiled. “Thanks.”

I snickered. “And thank you, yes.”

“Anytime,” Lars said.

At that moment, I realised Lars may want more from me than just the friendship we’d established hanging out at the barn. Or was I reading too much into it?

Welcome Aboard

KEIR

Aruba in April was paradise and a perfect long weekend escape for young royals looking for sun and parties. With a yacht, anything was possible. My brother Nate and I were due to arrive at the vessel where things were underway. The sun bounced off the waves as we sailed across them on a fast, tender boat. Soon, we’d be aboard the majestic ship awaiting our arrival. Until then, we’d take in these sights and soak up the sea breeze.

“You’ve been smiling since we landed. Jesus, I forgot you even knew how!” Nate ribbed me.

“Nathan, it’s been a long time. I’ll grant you.”

“Test pilot school is bad for your brain.”

“No, it’s the inverse,” I said. You can only get in with a broken brain. It’s a feature, not a bug, for us.”

I’d barely returned to the UK, only to agree to fly us out from London, where my brother lived. I’d been training on a new aircraft in America following a lengthy deployment. We both needed some time away. I only wished the time away wouldn’t be spent with Duncan. Duncan acted like a buffoon most of the time. I rarely thought ofmyself as terribly mature. I lived in the RAF mess with a bunch of my men, I had no steady girlfriend, and I didn’t even own my own home. However, I was more mature than the twenty-six-year-old head case that was our cousin. Moreover, I figured Duncan would be insufferable on a stag-hen-do weekend.

Arriving at the Danish super yacht, we were immediately greeted by the groom, Prince Isak of Denmark. The bride, our cousin Cecilia, was nowhere to be seen. Isak beamed in excitement as he said hello. Duncan and our younger brother Ollie, for some fucking reason, were belting out “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey.

“Don’t look so bothered.”

---