In Norwegian, he proclaimed, “Your Majesty, Miss Jensson has arrived.”
With military precision, he left me there, awkward and nervous in front of the Norwegian royals. Betty sat on the couch next to Ingrid, but immediately spotted me. I braced for a look of fear or disgust. I’d even have settled for a look of uncertainty. Instead, all I got was a tearful smile. Before I could bow, she rushed me for a hug. I threw my arms around Betty, so relieved to have her. Alicia was right. She never left. But as Betty pulled back to take me in, I realized there were a dozen or more other people who could still make this hurt.
The scene was odd. There were the royals I didn’t know—all dressed casually compared to Betty’s incredible getup. That included King Olav who I only knew from cyberstalking Betty. His neutral face worried me. Was it a typical Norwegian expression or was it judgement?
“I’m supposed to bow,” I whispered.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
I performed a terrible bow. “Your Majesties, I am really sorry, but any abilities I possess were learned watchingThe Princess Diariesa million years ago.”
Princess Ingrid snickered.
“Come and sit, please,” King Olav said. “We have… refreshments, but should be eating dinner shortly.”
Confused, I looked to the table which had three types of liquor.
“I’m plenty sloshed, thanks,” I said. “I apologize, but… we were stuck backstage for so long and—” I sat and looked at Betty. “Well, I suppose you had blocked me.”
Betty squeezed my knee. “No. Never.” Then, she glared at her cousin. “Someonehad them take my phone.”
Her words—salty and not at all polite—delighted me. I stifled inappropriate laughter.
“I am so sorry you worried about that for even a minute,” Betty said. “You didn’t need to. Never do that.”
I fought tears and nodded. “I see that. I do now.”
She squeezed my hands. “You are stuck with me. In a big way.”
I squeezed her hands back. “I won’t complain.”
“Now, Miss Jensson,” The King began.
“Oh, please just call me by my first name. That sounds so awful.”
“Marit,” he corrected, blissfully using my given name. “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced. However, I want you to know that you are welcome here and safe.”
“I… I do now,” I blushed. “But I must apologize because your protection officers got an earful from my band and… well, I assumed they were here to deport me or arrest me.”
“What?” Betty snickered. “Sorry, but what?”
“They showed up out of nowhere like MI-6,” I explained. “What was I to think?”
“I am sorry for all this chaos,” King Olav said. “But youneedn’t fear that, as no one wants to start a war with the Swedes and Brits.”
“The call would be coming from inside the house,” Betty’s brother Keir chuckled.
The King continued, concerned. “But, that settled, I was told you were in danger early from stage lighting?”
“Well, our drummer more than me, but yes. We’re all okay. The Swedes were DQ’ed.”
“What? Oh my God!” Betty said.
“You telling them to search the tapes did the trick, älskling.” I agreed. “Thank you for believing me.”
She stuck her neck out, potentially bringing more attention to a relationship that had been under wraps two hours ago. I suspected without her demands, Max would have once more gotten away with his shit.
“Of course. Fuck Max! And you made it, right?”
