14. A Bit Awkward
A Bit Awkward
BETTY
“No.” I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”
Brita’s exasperated expression didn’t give.
“Look, I’m about to hang out with a bunch of industry people and pop stars. The goal is to drop in and welcome them. I cannot do that in a pantsuit. I just want to wear the wrap dress.”
“It’s above the knee.”
“And I’m twenty-fucking-nine,” I protested in English. “Cici has worn things above the knee. I went out last night with my friends in a club dress that barely covered my ass. I am sure there are pictures.”
“That wasn’t an official capacity.”
“I promise if His Majesty gets heated, I will say I went rogue, okay?”
“Fine,” she relented.
I didn’t want to do this. I knew I was about to see the woman who embarrassed me.
People didn’t ghost me. A man never had.
She hit my pride, but I had to pull it together.
The best revenge was living well. So, on a dreary March morning, I prepared to meet with all the UniVox acts, followed by a film crew.
I’d keep my rejection to myself and get on with it.
That was my job. But even though I had to be professional, I planned to be unignorable.
I couldn’t show up looking less than a fucking ten.
After arriving at Magnushallen—Magnus’s Hall—I greeted royal watchers for about ten minutes.
My aunt’s rule was always enforced. If children waited in the cold for hours to meet us, we gave them a show.
I never minded a walkabout even if my mother loathed it.
She was such a private person that she was ill-suited for royal life.
I thrived on that energy and used it for good.
My legs would have quaked over the anticipation of a potential crash-and-burn reunion if I didn’t accept a few bouquets first. At least these kids loved me, right?
“Your Royal Highness, they’re ready for you,” Brita led me inside.
“So what is the rundown?”
“Everyone is taking promo photos onstage. They are gathered backstage now. So, you can go through and then take some yourself. Kaldi’s crew will follow you.”
“Cool,” I said, not aware they had been there this whole time.
We approached the first group, unsure of who they were.
“Do we have a full run-of-show? I’d love to know who is coming first,” I said.
Brita shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. That’s artists for you, I suppose.”
I let myself grimace, exercising all my facial muscles before three hours of meeting, greeting, and smiling commenced.
It had been years since putting in this much face time.
I wondered how my father and Cecilia pushed through.
All the while, I wished I was back on the farm with my greenies in the dressage arena.
Life was always better with a view through a horse’s ears.
Every time I heard new voices, I listened for hers.
It was as if I was entering the ring blind, having never walked the course or counted strides with complicated combinations.
I was out of control, totally unprepared as I shook hands and smiled like an idiot.
Internally, the longer this went on, the worse I felt.
“Can I take a minute?” I asked Brita. “I need to use the loo.”
She gave me a disapproving glance, but I left anyway. My detail guarded the door as I paced for several minutes, my heels clacking loudly. I settled and checked the mirror. I reapplied the sealer to my lip stain.
“You look hot. She’s the one who should feel bad. Get back out there!” I whispered.
It was back to it. I tried my best to ignore her, but Mary never quite left my memory.
Even if I couldn’t hear or see her, I felt she was right there.
And then, finally, as I spoke to a group of charming Icelanders, I heard her voice.
The British entry was there, waiting in the wings.
As they came into view, Mary’s eyes met mine, but I tried not staring.
It’s just a bit awkward. You can do it. Just be polite.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just Mary who recognized me. What I didn’t bank on was the entire band confused with my appearance.
“Oh my God. What?” Alicia laughed, pointing between Mary and I. “Wait, wait, wait. Were you two like… planning this?”
“Definitely not,” I remained neutral. “Uh… I… I’m Leah’s somewhat cousin. Step cousin? I am not sure what.”
Jaws dropped as Brita pieced it together.
In Norwegian, she whispered, “What is happening?”
“I may know them,” I whispered. “But they only know me as Betty.”
It didn’t register. She cocked her head.
“We hung out once at a bar,” I said. “So, yeah. I guess, it’s a little awkward,” I filled the silence. “Surprise?”
“Is this a Norway-Sweden sabotage thing?” Barry asked.
“No! Oh, God, no! I’m a genuine fan,” I said.
Mary crossed her arms but remained silent.
“Uh-huh,” Alicia said. “Yeah, sure.”
My attention turned to Mary. Please say something. I longed for this to be over and awaited her apology. I knew she couldn’t say too much, but maybe she would soften a little? Instead, she remained professional and extended her hand. It didn’t matter. Even rage would have hurt less.
“Well, it’s really nice to meet you, Your Highness. I was wondering when that might come out. Officially, I mean.”
Come out. Officially. I noted her emphasis on those words.
“Of course,” I said brightly, fighting the urge to cry.
Brita nodded at me. It was the signal to move along.
“So nice to have you all and best of luck!” I walked on with a smile.
I prayed that was the worst of it but couldn’t turn off my brain.
I realized I hadn’t feared her rage. It was her silence that broke me.
Her indifference showed how little I mattered, but it was the statement about “coming out officially” that struck me.
I initially suspected Mary was a bitch who wrote me off, but she made it clear she learned who I was before now.
Had it been my status that caused her to ghost me?
And if so, why didn’t she just ask me? Why hadn’t she reached out? Didn’t I deserve that much?