Chapter 20 Retirement
Retirement
Ingrid
From the Desk of the Queen—
Today, I attend the promotion and retirement ceremony at RAF Marham.
I am pleased to present awards, thank service members for their service, and celebrate the contributions of men and women in uniform.
I am very excited to extend a personal congratulations to a beloved member of my family, His Royal Highness the Duke of Inverness.
Today, after more than a decade and a half of service, The Duke—known to his squadron as Squadron Leader Inverness.
However, with his retirement, I am happy to promote him to the rank of Wing Commander.
Wing Commander Inverness has served many tours with a number of Squadrons, retiring a decorated pilot and devoted, dedicated member of the service.
In his next chapter, he looks forward to championing the cause of service members and their families.
The firestorm in England the day we landed for Keir’s retirement ceremony was madness. We no sooner set foot on base than were greeted by a press pit. They were truly vipers. Unprepared, I stared in pure confusion out the window.
“You’re going to do great,” Keir promised, kissing me. “You’re beautiful, and all they want to do is tell a happy fairytale story, baby.”
“I hope I don’t fall down the stairs.”
“You won’t,” Keir said. “And if you do, I will catch you.”
Swoon. I fucking hated how perfect he was or how much his uniform made me want to climb him like a tree. He was too good. This sweetness—the part no one ever saw—was the thing that made it impossible to remain angry with him. He never got like this with anyone but me. I loved the way he loved me.
The stairs dropped, and Keir went first, immediately turning to help me down from the RAF transport.
There was too much fanfare for him to fly us down from Oslo.
We’d been escorted for the photo op. I slowly descended the steps, smiling at him.
I stayed focused on his face rather than the three hundred photographers and news crews before me.
“Ready?” Keir mouthed as we stood on the tarmac.
“As ever,” I shouted, nervous over the din.
I held onto his arm for dear life, following his head.
He waved at the press, then turned back with a look of absolute adoration.
I linked my arm behind his back, and he did the same.
I smiled, unable to react differently to his boyish, loving grin.
I was his world. I relaxed, waved, and eventually greeted the military escort taking us to the ceremony site.
Safe inside, Keir said, “I hate that they make this big deal. It’s unlike me to make a fuss like this.”
“You said it. They want the fairytale, Keir.”
“They get it. I cannot fool anyone right now. I love you so fucking much, Ingrid.”
I knew it was true. He’d never stop saying it.
His brother, Nate, and Aunt Natalie greeted us in uniform. I felt so out of place. I didn’t calm until I spotted his mother, Sanne, and Peder, who flew separately.
Sanne hugged me. “You look beautiful. How was it?”
“Something entirely unexpected,” I said. “But I think I did alright. It’s not about me.”
“Nonsense!” Peder laughed. “It is always about the bride. I am sure you did fine.”
That was a compliment from a Norwegian. Sanne gave Keir a big hug. He was embarrassed but put up with it. Deep down, all her sons were total mama’s boys. Over time, she became a sort of mother to me.
“You all should go take your seats,” Keir said. “Apologies for all the pomp.”
“You realise we’re all royals, right?” I asked. “This is sort of par for the course, mon chere.”
He gave me a quick kiss. “Fine, fine. Just… don’t make a fuss.”
Betty appeared, hugging him while he tried waving us off.
“C’mon,” Sanne sighed. “He’s mortified.”
Nate escorted us to our seats. “Is he fucking delusional? We’re all going to be embarrassed.”
Ed, Keir’s uncle, waited for us.
“You made it. And you survived?” Ed asked.
“We did,” I answered. “He doesn’t want us to embarrass him.”
“Sure. Natalie won’t cry, but she will make the biggest deal out of this—either way. He’s lost that battle.”
I knew his uncle was right. And, anyway, this was a crowning achievement.
Keir secretly wanted the recognition, even if he never admitted it.
The Queen may not have cried, but Sanne, Betty, and I certainly did.
Being with a pilot wasn’t always easy. It caused plenty of discord, a breakup, and sleepless nights.
While I didn’t like war, his dedication and care for something bigger than himself impressed me.
I still wasn’t wild about planes, but I was his biggest fan.
After he sported new regalia and a new title, we finally saw him.
Keir was choked up but hiding it by talking to his comrades. I ignored his tough guy routine and decided to fuss over him anyway. He put up with it.
“You’re only excited because now there is cake,” Keir joked.
“Oh, I didn’t know.” I lied.
“Uh-huh. Yes. There is cake. And I get to cut it with a damn sword. I protested that this was ridiculous, but Auntie forced my hand.”
“She’s the boss,” an officer joked.
“She is.”
“Who cares?” Betty asked. “There’s cake.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
Keir shook his head. “Okay, I will go cut the damn thing, so I don’t disappoint all the women here.”
“You already broke millions of hearts,” another officer joked.
It took me a moment to understand what he meant.
He’d broken hearts by announcing his engagement—a long-awaited surprise that made two queens breathe easier.
My sister and his aunt had nearly exhausted all energy to give us cover.
We could go fully public and live it up.
The press frustrated me, but at least I could tell the world how much I loved this man. Relief set in.