Page 9 of Appointing

Elin laughed and nodded again, “Yes, I think that would be best for everyone.”

“Very good, Ma’am.”

“Can I get you anything else, Ma’am?” the stewardess asked.

“Ingrid?” Elin askedher.

She nearly always did that. Whenever the two of them were working and someone asked if they wanted anything, Elin rarely just answered for herself. She always asked Ingrid first and then did so. It was something Ingrid hadn’t noticed about any of the other royals, but not even in some of the government officials she’d worked with.

“Biscuits for The Princess Royal, please,” Ingrid said. “The chocolate ones.”

Elin added, “Andthe toffee.”

Ingrid smiled. Chocolate was Elin’s greatest love; Ingrid was convinced. Ingrid, herself, preferred toffee. It had been three years of learningherPrincess’s favorite things, least favorite things, quirks, and overall personality. Now, she would have to start over with a much more demanding, precocious Princess. And Ingrid was nearly thirty-seven; she wasn’t certain she’d have the energy or the desire to put up with the antics of a twenty-seven-year-old woman who couldn’t decide between wallpaper or paint in the kitchen of her would-be private residence. Markus was in his fifties, though. If she could deal with Lillian for the next ten years or so, the Queen would only be forty and have many more years on her throne. Ingrid could work with her then. That was what she kept telling herself as they discussed the gala seating arrangements, Elin’s speech, the donors they still needed to lock in, and the impending arrival of Princess Mari and departure of Prince Christian.

“Even when we’re separated, I always feel him,” Elin said as the plane prepared to land. “This feels different, though.”

“How so?”

“The dynamic has shifted between us. I’m going to be Queen. Hewasgoing to be King. I know he wants the Air Force, and I’m happy he gets what he wants, but I’ve always felt one or two steps behind my big brother. Now, I’d have to walk in front of him. That’s going to take some getting used to,” Elin replied.

Ingrid watched her blue eyes as they stared out the window at the island of St. Rais, one of Elin’s favorite places to visit these past few years Ingrid had served her. How had this woman turned out like this when her siblings were all so different? Christian had shied away from responsibility until he joined the Air Force, and now he saw only that. Lillian attended the events and worked with her charities but seemed more concerned with finding a new boyfriend and decorating her house than the fact that she was third in line to the throne of a country; soon to be second until Elin had children of her own. Mari wanted nothing to do with royal life. It wouldn’t surprise Ingrid if the youngest Princess also asked to leave the line of succession one day. She seemed happiest when she was reading a good book or when she’d been off at university in Sweden and hardly anyone paid attention to her.

“Personally, Ma’am, I believe you have always outshone your brother. Even before we began working together, I saw it. You will be the Queen this country needs you to be. I’d be proud to call you Your Majesty, Queen Elin.”

Elin blushed again, and as she brought her likely now-cold tea to her lips, the cup shook, and Ingrid prepared for the Princess to drop it. Elin managed a sip, though, and placed it back on the saucer. The plane touched down just after, and Ingrid thanked God it hadn’t touched down a moment earlier, or Elin would surely have tea all over her blazer and silk shirt.

CHAPTER 4

“Aunt Elin!” The seven-year-old blonde girl with big blue eyes ran toward her with outstretched arms.

“Sophie!” That yell came from her mother. “We’ve talked about this.” Elizabeth chuckled at her daughter.

Sophia reached Elin just as Elin knelt down to hug her.

“Well, hello, Sophia,” Elin greeted, laughing at the little girl. “How are you doing?”

“Camilla is coming tomorrow. We’re going to go horseback riding,” Sophia announced, pulling out of the hug. “Will you go with us?”

“Let Aunt Elin breathe, baby,” Palmer said, walking up behind her daughter. “Hi, Elin.”

“Hi. Where’s my nephew?” she asked.

“He’s just more well-behaved than his older sister, apparently,” Elizabeth replied as she walked up next to her wife, holding her five-year-old son’s hand.

“Hi, Leif,” Elin greeted, still kneeling in front of Sophia.

“Your Royal Highness,” Leif said and offered an adorable head bow.

“We’ve been going over the protocols with him now that he’s old enough,” Palmer explained. “He listens and takes after his mother. My little Soph takes after me.” She picked up her daughter and put her on her hip. “Right, Soph?”

“Right, Mama,” Sophia said, placing her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Leif, are you going horseback riding tomorrow with your Aunt Camilla?” Elin asked him, knowing the boy was a little shy.

“Yes, I was invited,” he said, his light-brown hair making him resemble Palmer more than Sophia did, despite Elizabeth giving birth to them both.

While they weren’t technically her niece and nephew, they still called her Aunt Elin. It was widely known that many members of royal families around Europe were all descendants of Queen Victoria in some way or another, so they were at least distant relations. The woman had had nine children. They spread across the continent, marrying other royals, and now, Elin had lost track of how she was related to them all.

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