“For certain. You’ve made Pappa’s day, so you’ve earned it. I honestly didn’t think to ask.”
“Well, one of my patronages is actually a disability and accessibility charity in Oslo,” I said. “I might have learned a thing or two.”
“I hate that you are earning all these points right now.”
“I’m not. I only hope it translates to you officially inviting me to watch your set.”
“You can,” she agreed. “I promise. But… I don’t know how to make you fit in without… you know… making you feel like just a friend.”
“I literally do not care. Not this once. It’s more important for me to see you play than anything else,” I said. “I want to see you kill it at Miragelite. Also, if we do not hook Jaz up, we’re going to disappoint her.”
Mary giggled. “How could I hurt that poor woman? You lay on the guilt well.”
“Blame my paternal grandmother. She was really a queen of guilt.”
“And a literal queen.”
“I suppose, yes. But she was just my grandmother,” I laughed. “That’s the weird part of being me.”
“I signed multiple rounds of autographs yesterday. I get it,” Mary said.
“Look at you, superstar!”
“Oh, stop. It’s so weird.”
I smiled. “I’m proud of you, baby. Really. I love this for you. Let me be proud of you.”
Chapter 30
The Princess
MARY
“She’s next up.” Pappa pointed.
“She is. Game face on,” I noted.
It was the first time I saw Betty on horseback. Bubbly smile gone, she trotted a horse in a circle. Her mount seemed convinced she was a rocket about to blast off. The horse’s muscles twitched and her ears pricked straight forward. I saw a person wave Betty over and a moment later, the announcement rang.
“Next up, Her Royal Highness Elisabeth riding Truly Adored, owned by Sybil Creighton of Robel Estates Farms.”
Betty posted up as I died inside.
“Princessa?” Pappa asked, confused.
I winced, “Let’s just watch her run.”
I relied on a convenient excuse while Betty circled her very excited horse. A buzzer beeped and she flew past the line. The horse flew forward with Betty looking like a toy atop a racehorse. Then, after letting the mare have a moment, she slowed her, settling into the first fence. Knowingit was about as tall as I was, I braced nervously. They cleared it beautifully and the crowd erupted.
“Fuckin’ rights!” Dad erupted with banter only heard in a hockey arena. “Go Betty!”
She made the line down a bank into a bit of water, then back. All in all, Betty made it look easy. And that was when she disappeared, with only a roar of hooves on turf.
Dad elbowed me. “That’s your girl. Look at her go! She’s brave!”
I blushed. “She’s braver than me.”
“Brave or stupid? You decide,” Jaz said. “Two of her bothers are pilots. They all have a screw loose. But, hey, so do I.”
