“It wasn’t time before.” And I never expected this to be the time, either. I signed on to be the Suitorette to get over Spencer, not go on a date with him.
It shouldn’t feel this significant because I’ve gone on date-like things with Spencer before. We’ve been to the MetGala. Movie premiers. Birthday parties for Prince William and former PM Justin Trudeau.
I’ve wandered through the secret passages of the castle clinging to his hand and drank wine on the battlements with him.
But all those times were the same because I never felt like he wanted to be with me. It was as if he had been with me because he was assigned as my date or my guide, or my minder. Someone who was there to make sure I didn’t get into trouble.
This time, it’s different.
37
Spencer
I
t’snotthebestday for a hike.
The afternoon sun hides behind grey clouds that threaten rain. Rue assures us three times that the rain will hold off until this evening, and everything has been set up for us, so the date is still a go. There’s a cool breeze that has Lyra hugging her elbows as she strides along the path before me.
“It reminds me of Scotland.”
They’re the first words I’ve spoken since we started off.
Maybe it’s the cameraman following us, close enough to hear our every labored breath. And yes, some of my breaths are labored. For a flat piece of land, Saint Pierre has a surprising number of dips and inclines. And yes, I’m far from the best shape of my life. Too many late nights at my desk with fish and chips take out, too many mornings starting with lattes from Coffee for the Sole with full-fat milk and extra syrup.
I can still keep up with anyone, but it takes its toll.
The quiet may also be because it’s the first time we’ve been alone.
Alone, in that there’s no other men around. There’s always the cameraman.
“Do you remember when we went to Balmoral?” Lyra says over her shoulder. “Dad went a few times, but it was only the one time when they let all of us go too.”
“All of us” means I was invited as well. It was soon after Dad and Signe got divorced and he hadn’t wanted to leave me alone. King Magnus and Queen Selene thought nothing of bringing along another teenager.
“And the Queen thought you were another prince.” Lyra laughed.
“Your mom didn’t correct her until the end of the weekend.”
“She always thought of you as hers, so she didn’t care. Plus, you don’t correct the Queen of England.”
“No, you don’t,” I agree but all I can think isshe always thought of you as hers.“I loved your mother,” I add. “Not as the queen, but… you know.”
Lyra looks back at me. “She loved you too.”
“I never told her.”
“And I never told her enough. But she knew.”
We’re silent again, the path widening, so we can walk side by side. A plane flies low overhead and Lyra waves.
“Try not to acknowledge the cameras,” Johnny says from behind us.
“It’s Bo,” Lyra tells me. “They wanted overhead shots, so he offered to fly around with the camera guy.”
“Hasan,” I say.
“You know their names? Of course you do. It’s no wonder Mom loved thinking of you as a son—you’ve got more royal qualities than the rest of us put together.”
