Page 44 of Royally Drawn (Resplendent Royals #3)

The Reason

KEIR

W e went out for drinks with Odette at a local haunt. It was the first time I’d gotten much one-on-one time with Ingrid’s most tender-hearted sibling. Where Ingrid had biting wit, Odette had love for everyone for days. I anticipated she was the sort to pick up a spider and carry it to safety.

“Do you actually fly planes?” Odette asked.

I snickered. “They do not fly themselves—not completely, and not to land and take off. Flying is the easy part.”

“She means do you fly them,” Ingrid clarified. “And yes, he does. Don’t ask dozens of questions if you don’t want answers.”

“She is not a plane person,” Odette said, pointing at her sister. “She must love you if she’s putting up with it.”

“I don’t hate planes. But they are complicated. I don’t love them like he does.”

“I know,” I said. “But I love that you put up with it. You’re so sweet to me, Ingrid.”

It was incredibly sappy and came seemingly out of nowhere. Still, I’d said it .

She gave me a quick kiss. We’d decided PDA was okay, I guess.

“You’re overly adorable today,” Ingrid said in French. “I love it.”

I wanted to make an inappropriate joke about how her ability to give head made me want to sing her praises nonstop, but that wasn’t it. It was just her . It was the sunshine she brought in that made me annoyingly, sickeningly sweet. I also didn’t hate this. She made me feel so safe. Maybe that was the point?

We stayed for another drink and then left. Odette went to see a man she was dating, and I went home with Ingrid.

“They’re cute together,” Ingrid said of the guy. “Hopefully, this ends well for her. She deserves it.”

I nodded. “I wish her the best, but of what you’ve said of her history…. is that wise?”

Odette had a mental break the year before. She ended up needing intensive mental health care to recover. I’d only learned of this recently—it was a well-guarded secret and hard to imagine given how cheerful Odette was most days.

“She deserves to be happy. I am hopeful.”

“She seems happy.”

“She’s happy. We both are—for once,” Ingrid said. “Her dog and the children have been so good for her. And, of course, I adore them, too. I miss them when I’m gone.”

“You love them so much.”

“Of course. They will always be dear to me,” she said. “We all treat them as if they are ours. It’s not a struggle to love them. Someday, my sisters will love my children just as much. While I will enjoy motherhood, their love of my children will only add to it. Having my sisters near me is precious, and I hope my children feel the same.”

She’d thought about this. None of us had children. I loved my siblings—even Lars when he wasn’t being pig-headed. I didn’t always like them. However, I’d never considered how they might have children and that I would be in their lives as my aunts and uncles were in mine. Auntie Nat, in particular, had always been there, but it stunned me never to have considered it.

“I just don’t understand loving something you didn’t make—truly loving something as you do,” I said. “I don’t think I’m capable of it. ”

“Doesn’t Peder love you? I think he does. Behaviour suggests it,” Ingrid said.

“He does. And I am grateful for how good he is to all of us. I don’t know if I’d be capable.”

“You’re wonderful with children. I’m surprised you’d worry at all.”

“Being wonderful with children is different from parenting them.”

I wasn’t sure I saw myself having children. The pain of loss riddled me nervous about attachment. I wanted to say I wanted children and was capable of having them, but I didn’t think I was mentally prepared at the moment.

“Do you not want them?”

“Not right now, obviously,” I said, hoping Ingrid dropped the topic.

I wanted to be home in bed with her fifteen minutes ago—slowly unwinding her until she screamed my name. I didn’t want to think about impregnating her and raising children. I tried to avoid that.

“I want kids,” Ingrid said. “Eventually. Honestly, I think seeing men with babies is probably the most disastrous thing.”

“Disastrous?” I laughed. “How?”

“Oh, I don’t mean men cannot parent. Rick is a brilliant dad and loves those kids so much. It’s the extreme level of broodiness that comes with it. Again, I’m not interested in children right now, but you’ll understand. Alexandra will pop any minute, and if you’re around to hold the baby, I will want you even more.”

“Protection is good,” I said.

“Very. But that base urge is strong . I don’t know how to describe it. Seeing a hot man be cute with children only makes me realise that someday I want a baby—even if that idea is frightening. Maybe I shouldn’t say that.”

“I think most women do,” I said. “That ticking clock is a biological norm. It’s not unique.”

“Well, most women didn’t lose their mothers in childbirth.”

Ingrid’s voice dropped, leaving me feeling like an asshole. I’d made a joke, and now—even unintended—it felt like it was at her expense.

“I love you, Ingrid,” I said. “I didn’t mean it like that. It must frighten you. And… I dunno. ”

“It’s stupid. Bringing up babies was stupid. I’m just… excited because I love my nieces and nephew, and we don’t know if this one will be a boy or a girl. It’s all exciting.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Ingrid.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“Well, when someone jokes about having cancer and doesn’t have it, I get pretty cross, so I didn’t want to do that to you, my love.”

Resting her head on my shoulder, she said, “I know. I’d never assume you would.”