I read over the printed statement and noted something.
“Norwegian, English, and Swedish?”
“I had them add the last bit,” Cici said. “For you all. I figured the Swedes would be touched by it. After all, they’re here, too. The Crown Prince wants to meet you at the finals.”
“Betty mentioned that,” I read.
From the Desk of the King-
Recently, details of a relationship between our niece, HRH Princess Elisabeth, and Ms. Marit Jensson broke when a video was taken of their private conversation backstage at the UniVox semifinals. The two met while filming a forthcoming documentary on UniVox.
While in most cases, the palace does not comment on such chatter, we can confirm that the two are in a relationship. However, that is all we will do given the ongoing UniVox competition and Ms. Jensson’s standing as a private citizen, rather than an official member of this family.
We request that you please grant Ms. Jensson privacy as she prepares for Britain’s final performance in UniVox. His and Her Majesty wish all the contestants the best of luck and plan to sit with the Norwegian delegation at the finals tomorrow. We hope that the competition proceeds safely and are so grateful to see this celebration of unity between our nations in a time of international division.
-HM The King
“That seems fine,” I said. “But the timeline is off. And I’m not sure how forthcoming I should be about that. I don’t really know what I’m doing, you know?”
“It’s fine if it was later. We just wanted to keep it brief and give cover, so it looked less girl-on-girl action and morecommitted partnership. I know it’s the latter not the former, but people are dicks.”
“They are. But… it’s longer, not shorter.”
Cici cocked her head. “How so?”
“We… uh… we met five years ago. For the first time. And I have pined for her in a way I literally couldn’t imagine.” I realized this poured out of me uncharacteristically.
“Five years?” Keir asked.
I winced. “Please don’t think it pathetic or?—”
“I won’t. Ingrid and I broke up once for about six months and it was hell for me.”
“He was a sad sack,” Cici said. “And Betty helped reunite them.”
Keir smiled. “Yeah. Shelovesa second chance. Somehow, this is perfect. How did it go?”
His genuine interest in our little love story delighted me. Mortification led to me wanting to shout from the rooftops.
“I didn’t know who Betty was. And I had to leave because my Mum fell and I needed to go help her. I regretted not getting her number for five years. And… it turns out… she felt the same.”
“Aww,” Cici brimmed. “It meant that much?”
I couldn’t help myself. “I wrote ‘Wayside’ after Mum died. There were opportunities to sell it to someone else, but I kept it for myself because it’s about so much—including Betty. And it was like… if I gave it up… I’d have to give up the memory of that night.”
I fought tears because speaking it into words made it true.
“Fuck. That’s beautiful. I want to vomit and hug you all at the same time,” Keir chuckled. “It’s sickeningly sweet.”
I shrugged. “She was too young for me then and remains too young for me now.”
“I won’t cast stones. Honestly, I haven’t seen her this at-ease and happy with anyone, Marit. So, well done on you both.”
I fought the way my throat scratched. It signaled tears. I wouldn’t cry before virtual strangers. I already bore my heart out.
“Well, if you all want to walk the carpet together, this means you can,” Cici said. “But I wouldn’t put that pressure on you.”
“I would never presume Betty has time. She’s hosting and?—”
