“I am sorry for being such a fuck up,” I played with a piece of hay at my feet. “It’s not about the barn. I just… I met someone. I feel so confused about it. I felt all the things. I feel so stupid now. They ghosted me but I had to see them—and I’m supposed to tonight—but I cannot bear feeling mortified again.”
“This is another royal? I thought the princes were either married to your cousins or were too closely related.”
I snickered. “No it’s not a prince that is the problem.”
“A prince-ess.”
I furrowed my brow and met his gaze. “What… no!”
“Oh, come on. It’s… look, if it was, I wouldn’t judge you?—”
“Hank, how did you?—”
“Well, sweetheart, I have seen things. And you keep checking your message history for a woman named Mary. I’ve known you far too long and far too intimately to not put things together. Honestly, Bets, it’s a relief.”
“A relief?” I gasped. “For you, maybe! God, do not make this about you!”
“I am not! I’m saying it’s good to know you let yourself go there with a woman. Who is she?”
I softened. “She’s a musician playing in the UniVox competition. I’m hosting and that damn documentary is following me everywhere. We hooked up. It’s stupid, like I said.”
“And you caught feelings?”
“I think webothdid. Or, rather, thought. It felt different—and not just because she was my first.”
His eyes grew wide. He knew I liked women, but I never officially outed myself to him. I waited for him to turn it around somehow.
Instead, he spoke sympathetically. “Oh, wow. I… I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, Betty.”
“You didn’t.” I let out a long breath. “You know, it’s somewhat comforting to say. I haven’t told anyone. Even my brother was prying, and I just let him think Mary was a guy. Because in the end, she’s just a person. It was just a hookup.”
“Yet she was texting you all day? All for a booty call?”
“No. She wants to apologize for fucking everything up.”
“She’s groveling.”
I shrugged. “I dunno. She’s Swedish, so it’s all kind of bizarre. This is why I do not date Scandinavians.”
“Sweetheart, youareScandinavian.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Regardless of whether you accept her apology or not, just realize it’s okay to just… be you... all of you?”
“Says the southerner!”
“Okay, but I’m not an ogre. And if you’re worried about your family?—”
“I am not worried about them. It’s optics.”
“Optics won’t make you happy. If you care about her, you should go for it.”
“I am not supposed to fraternize with the enemy,” I said. “I’m repping Norway. I cannot be caught up with a Swedish spoiler candidate who is playing Britain’s only hope at winning this competition in at least fifty years! And yeah? Did I mention she’s a woman?”
“There aren’tanygay royals?”
“Not that are allowed to stay in. By year’s end, Uncle Olav will step back. Cici needs stability rather than a coming out party for her flake of a charge.”
“Honey, I have known Cici for way longer than I have known you. I do not think Cici would want you to put happiness aside to save face. Nor do I think your countrymen would care one iota.”
“Old people?—”
