Page 99 of Royally Drawn

“I’ve been left out by every person who ever claimed to love me, Keir,” I sobbed. “Every person says they love me, but… they fucking don’t. The only people who love me are the people in this house. And I will probably die here in this house?—”

“You won’t,” Keir pleaded. “Because you are beautiful, capable, and strong. You’re brave. And that’s why I don’t understand this. You could have so much more than just children, a house, and a husband. You could dream so much bigger.”

I shook my head. “I want to build something bigger with someone—someone who wants the same. I want that first. Marriage then empire, I guess?”

Keir shook his head. “I’m not ready to tell you I will do it for you, my love. I hope with some time?—”

“No. You hope I will forget about it and settle.”

“I would never want you to settle. That is what I am saying, Ingrid!”

I shook my head. “But you want me to wait while you find the person you want? Am I a nice placeholder?”

Keir took my hands in his. “There is no woman on this planet I would prefer to you. I am convinced of it. I’m addicted to you. You make me ridiculously happy.”

“Except for the ability to opt out with impunity?” I asked. “I’m a royal woman living in a fucking fishbowl. You claim youwant to protect me. If so, you’d want to legitimate me. Because I grow stale on the shelf.”

“You aren’t bread at the shop, Ingrid!”

“I don’t make the fucking rules, Keir,” I sobbed. “And you don’t actually want me. You want to fuck me and play with me. You don’t want to have me forever. And that’s fine, but just be fucking honest. You’re incapable of this commitment. It’s not me, it’s you.”

“I am notincapable.”

“Then what do you need from me?”

“I need to… I need to finish out the mission.”

“When does that end?”

He shrugged.

“Well, when you figure it out, let me know,” I said, storming out of the drawing room.

Disappointment

KEIR

“Well, when you figure it out, let me know,” Ingrid said before fleeing the drawing room.

I stared after her, puzzled. The night began so well. We were delighted—dancing, joking, laughing. Then, it all turned. She was so sad. I broke her heart with sort-of promises. And to be true to myself, I couldn’t promise her what she wanted. I couldn’t pretend I could ever give her this fairytale where I came home every night to tuck our adorable babies into bed.

I couldn’t understand why she wanted it for the life of me. She was an athlete, brave beyond measure, and clever. She wasn’t the type of girl to wait at home. Thus, why did she care about being “legitimated”? And what did that mean? Why was shesofocused on codifying all of it?

We did not want to be too focused on exclusivity at the onset. It was as if my saying I love you created a great panic in which now we needed to meet the criteria to stay genuinely “together.”

I couldn’t handle it. I defaulted as I always did. I ran. She sobbed in the bed as I packed my things. I knew all I would do if I stayed was disappoint her and everyone else she loved. So, I fled. I chartered a flighthome sooner than planned and returned to London to lay low. I told myself this was for the best. I’d be off on duty in thirty-six hours, so all I had to do was keep my head down.

Unfortunately, the next day, I had a visitor who wasn’t taking my bullshit.

I woke to an angry voice.

“Keir Robert, get up!”

My aunt stood over me, arms crossed.

“Auntie Nat, I just want to sleep.”

“You’ve slept for a day and embarrassed the entirety of Britain with whatever shenanigans you pulled, so get your arse up. We need to have a chat!”

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