Page 121 of Royally Benevolent

She set her glass for Alexandra to fill.

I paced until Wyatt appeared at the doorway. I stopped, making eye contact, but unable to speak. He wasn’t his clean-shaven self. Instead, he was hisweekendself, where he didn’t shave and let himself grow stubble. This was my favourite version—the one who saw me on a Sunday morning and pulled me closer rather than pushed me away. I couldn’t smell his cologne, but I knew his scent.

“Odette, I don’t have a speech, but I love you. I love you so much. And I’m a fucking idiot for not just running here the minute you got home from The Netherlands to apologise andinsistI loved you. Odie, I… I didn’t want to put Theo through anything, but I didn’t realise how much I miscalculated. I should have trusted you, and I am sorry I didn’t.”

I didn’t know what to say. It was everything I wanted—and needed—to hear. I didn’t deserve his words, but I wanted to tell him I agreedand apologise for pulling back. I’d probably have given him a break if he’d just run over. Instead, I took off.

“Fucking finally!” Astrid declared.

Wyatt’s eyes grew wide. He turned to see my sisters on the couches.

“Uh… fuck. I didn’t mean to… go off like that, Your Majesty and… Your Highness.”

“Alex and Asti, please, darling,” Astrid sat up. “Champs?”

He stared at her stomach, then the bottle.

“Oh, she’s not drinking,” Alexandra giggled. “She’s justoffering. We’re celebrating the death of a deeply fucked up woman. Care to join?”

“Alex, can you leave him be?” I asked, finally able to talk.

I needed to get Wyatt alone, but suddenly, my feet wobbled. I stepped forward, falling towards the hard floor below, twisting my ankle as I did. Wyatt rushed to catch me, gently lowering me to the floor. He bent next to me. Astrid came over. Alexandra sat up, probably too drunk to be of much use.

“You okay?” Wyatt asked.

“I’m… broken,” I giggled as Grieg jumped in his lap and licked his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Your leg is broken?” Wyatt panicked. “Oh, God!”

“No, she’s pissed,” Astrid said.

“I am apologising?—”

“Not pissed in the American sense,” Astrid clarified. “She’sdrunk,mate.”

“Astrid, less British, please,” Alexandra groaned.

“British isn’t a language, Lex!”

“Justbeless British, alright?”

The two argued as Wyatt checked my foot, intensely focused like a medic.

“You can wiggle your toes?”

I wiggled my toes, then giggled again. “Oh my God, you’re so cute when you get worried and flustered.”

Wyatt cocked his head. “Youaredrunk, aren’t you?”

I realised he’d rarely seen me drunk—certainly neverthisdrunk.

“I’m sorry. Blame Alex. I am. I should lie down.”

He helped to hoist me back, supporting me. I winced.

“C’mon. You should lie down,” Astrid said. “Come on.”

Gesturing at Wyatt, he frightened me by picking me up.

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