“Why not?What does it matter to them?You’ll still be here.You’re the CEO.”
“Just be back before the July board meeting.”
Nearing the barn, Scottie voiced her last argument for her decision.“You know this isn’t about you or the company.Not even entirely about Kate.This is about me learning who I am.Until now, I’ve only had half a story.If you’d married when I was little and that woman adopted me, raised me, called me her daughter, we’d not be having this conversation.Mom would’ve been my mom.But you didn’t, and my guess is deep down you knew this day would come.You wanted me to know Catherine Blue was my mother.”
His jaw flexed, just once, which meant he heard her but didn’t like it.“Why don’t you tend the horses while I run into town for the steaks.”
“Dad,” she said.“I promise I’ll come home the same girl I am now.”
“Let’s see if that girl can finally beat her old man in a race.”He pressed Nova into a run.Dart, with a reluctant trot-to-run, raced home, giving Scottie everything he had.
That’s what she planned to do with her time with Kate—give it everything she had, then come home the same girl who’d left.
* * *
“By order of Her Majesty, Queen Catherine the Second, Letters Patent have been issued and sealed by the Ancient Cypher of Titus granting Scottie O’Shay the style of Lady Royal on this day, the 30th of April, thus affording the rights and privileges thereof the Houses of Blue and Lauchtenland.”
— The Chamber Office of Her Majesty, the Queen
* * *
“We’re blooming overrun by Americans.Do we need another snooty rich lass with a title?Didn’t the Yanks fight a war to throw off the yoke of oligarchy and aristocracy?Why are we allowing them to make it fashionable again?Every North Sea Island Nation has an American under a crown.Go home, Lady Royal.MP Fickle for Prime Minister!”
— @RECOPartyMan2000 on X.com
* * *
“On the heels of the queen’s Letters Patent, Hamish Fickle presented the Royal Reduction Act in parliament, intending to limit the size and power of the royal family.‘Why are the citizens of Lauchtenland still paying tribute to the House of Blue a thousand years later?’Fickle said.‘We don’t need their protection.In fact, we protect them.Of course, we adore our queen.The House of Blue is our constitution representing our history and culture.But there’s no need to bow and curtsy.We’re not a big nation but we are influential.Let’s lead the way for our North Sea Island neighbors to fully embrace the power of the people in the twenty-first century.’”
— Clark Wilson, The News Leader
* * *
Michael
Her Majesty’s daughter had arrived.The dark Range Rover pulled round Hadsby’s meticulously cared for circular drive and stopped by the speckled portico steps.
“Here we go, lads and lasses.”Michael exited the security office through the servants’ hall to rouse the staff.“Grand Foyer, please.Greet her as Lady Royal but do not curtsy or bow.She’s an American.”
“She is Her Majesty’s daughter.”Cranston, Hadsby’s butler, had been in conflict with Michael about the status of the recently dubbed Lady Royal Blue, Scottie O’Shay.
Cranston wanted to treat her like a legitimate member of the House of Blue.Michael insisted she be treated in the manner of any government official or visiting dignitary.
“With respect, Cranston, I believe I have Her Majesty’s mind on the matter.”The queen, who’d been visited by her physician this morning, was asleep but eager to greet her daughter for afternoon tea.She’d personally rung him several times admonishing him to “Not overwhelm her with our world.”
Our world?Yes, of course, the world of royals and security.As a Cross man, Michael was familiar with royal security and royal duty.Yet the attempt on Prince John’s life during the North Sea Island Nations’ Summit lingered with him.How had he let it happen?How had he not seen the assailant?The investigation may have cleared him, but he’d not cleared himself.He had a chance to erase that event by protecting Lady Royal.He determined not to make a pig’s ear out of it.
Then there was the moment Mum cornered him at Evan and Tracy’s after Finn’s football match.
“It’s time you come work for Pratt.I need your tactical training and thinking in our exec room.You’ve done your Cross duty.You’ve served the Crown.You’re forty years old, Mick.Time to join Pratt, settle down, and have a family.Poor Finn, Mindy, and Linus have no cousins.”
Evan had defended him.“Mum, have a care.He’s still mourning Purnell.”Such a good brother and mate.
“I loved Purnell, you know that, but she’s not coming back.”
Over the past few weeks Mum had texted Michael a possible job description, opportunities, and a pay packet.Nearly four times what he made in HMSD.Before bonus.
Yet as he stepped into Hadsby’s Grand Foyer, his only focus was the queen’s daughter.
