Epilogue
MARY
Ibowed deeply, trying to remember all the things I’d been taught over the past six months.
I wasn’t a delicate flower. I struggled to be elegant.
Hoping I soaked up even an ounce of Betty’s poise, I met the gaze of the woman before me.
She was taller than I ever expected and altogether more jovial this morning.
“Welcome, Ms. Jensson,” Queen Natalie extended her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you. I’ve heard only good things.”
I smiled and shook her hand, while a creeping red blush climbed my neck. “Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty. I can say the same. Betty told me you are like her aunt.”
The Queen looked towards where Betty stood and chuckled. “I am her aunt if you ask me. She’s dear to us. And we’re glad to honor you today.”
She handed me the badge—one I initially wanted to refuse.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“This is for your continued contributions to music, culture, the LGBTQ+ community, and your desire to protect young artists in music.”
I blushed. “All I do is help empower people.”
“You do not help. You empower.” The Queen pointed out my weaker language.
I nodded and bowed slightly. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Enduring the ridiculous portion where she tapped me on either shoulder with a sword, I wondered what I did for this.
I considered how pleased my mother would be to stand back with the onlookers taking this in as the press snapped photos.
I made eye contact with Betty, who watched on with a shit-eating grin.
After the ridiculous ceremony concluded, I approached the band and Betty who hung out near the tea and coffee station in back.
“Look at you!” Betty said excitedly. “Should I pin the badge on.”
“God, no,” I laughed. “But if you wanted to put it in your bag, I won’t complain. I need some coffee.”
“It’s fika o’clock,” Alicia teased, noting my desire for the Swedish coffee break that I never quite quit.
Betty slid the award in her handbag and shook her head. “If you ever carried a bag—”
“Then you’d have no practical reason to buy a new handbag every five minutes. Look at the glass half full,” I said. “Take your own advice, ?lskling.”
She rolled her eyes. “I do it maybe once a month. And it’s convenient. See.”
“So are pockets,” I gestured to my trousers.
“Good lord, you argue like old married people!”
A man approached. It was Betty’s somewhat-cousin, The Prince of Wales.
“We’re practically old married people,” Betty joked, hugging and kissing him. “I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“Dad laid on the damn guilt trip. And I still hadn’t met Mary.”
Betty proceeded to introduce us like she ran into a friend while out shopping.
I mostly adjusted to things being normal between us when we were safe and out of the public eye—which was rarely.
I forgot who her family was most times. They were just so normal when at home.
But in cases like this where the future king spoke to me like I was anyone else while in full military uniform, I struggled to separate our lives.
“You didn’t put on the hardware?” Duncan asked. “All that and you didn’t wear it?”
“It’s a lot of pomp for her,” Betty said. “She’s appreciative, but shy.”
“I am not shy,” I laughed. “I just… I cannot imagine wearing all this flair.”
He chuckled. “You get used to it. The good news? If you ever get honors in Sweden or Norway, it’s much chiller than here. We keep it antiquated.”
Alicia and I exchanged surprised glances over him taking the piss. It wasn’t what we expected from the man the press often described as an entitled bad boy.
“Anyhow, I should leave you,” Duncan said. “I am obligated to circulate.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Clarice said.
“And you all as well,” Duncan nodded.
As he turned, Alicia slapped Clarice’s arm, “Put your tongue back in your mouth.”
“I have no chance in hell,” Clarice said. “But your cousin is hot, Betty.”
“He’s a head case. Trust me,” Betty said. “Now what?”
“Now what?” I asked.
“Where now? I figured we’d go out,” Betty said. “What do you fancy?”
The band looked to me.
“C’mon, it’s your choice,” Barry nudged.
“The Bookstore for a pint?” I asked. “I sincerely doubt anyone will follow us there. Unless that’s too low brow for you, princess?”
She blushed. “Hell no. Let’s go. I’m always down for a cheeky pint.”
We departed Windsor in good spirits, stopping at Kensington Palace to change and redirect the press. I knew the routine by now. Duck the press by leaving out a back gate to a waiting car. It was the nature of the game. Our little interlude gave me a boost with its clandestine vibes.
In the car, I squeezed Betty’s hand, smiling. “You were right.”
“About what now?” Betty asked.
“I’d have regretted turning the honor down. It’s silly, okay? I won’t deny it, but it was nice to do something to impress your family and I don’t know, but my mother would have been over-the-moon to see me get honors.”
“You regret the things you don’t do more than the ones you do,” Betty said. “At least that’s what I’ve found.”
“No, you’re right. I’d have missed everything with you. And all this past year. I’m hesitant, but I’m learning.”
Betty rested her head on my shoulder.
“Bets?”
“What?”
“I think I’m ready to buy the house,” I said. “What do you say about looking at them next weekend?”
Betty’s head popped up, a beaming grin crossing her face.
She kissed my hand. “Yeah. I’d love that. It would beat all this back and forth. Are you really ready?”
“It’s not about you. I know it’s you,” I promised. “It’s been you for longer than I wanted to ever admit. It’s about believing I can buy a nicer place and enjoy it.”
“Mary, you deserve nice. You deserve privacy. You deserve the damn world—like I’ve always told you.”
I kissed her forehead. “You’re right. As always. Is that what you want to know, my love?”
“No comment,” Betty giggled. “I will only say that I won’t complain about having a home base where I can wake up next to you more than I do now.”
“We’ve got forever, right?”
“I want to believe it. I want to manifest it, yeah,” Betty said.
I did, too. And somehow, I knew it would come to us eventually.