Page 52 of Royally Drawn (Resplendent Royals #3)

A Call From Home

INGRID

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

C antering around a warmup was always an excellent way to start my day. Kraken and I were competing in Virginia at a four-star international event. We rode right after Cici and Cardigan, her new Irish Sport Horse. Coming out of dressage, the two of us were sixth and eighth—with me in sixth. I was so proud of myself and excited at this chance to win an event for the first time since entering international competition. I’d come close in February at Wellington—placing third. I’d never been so proud of myself.

That would all come to a halt in the next five minutes. I pulled up next to Cici, trotting next to her.

“He looks outstanding today,” Cici said. “You’re going to kill it.”

“He’s a little wild, but that isn’t bad.”

“You’ll be great. Just go out there and give it your best. It’s enough.”

I noticed our coach waving his arms like he was landing a jet.

“I don’t know what Nils needs,” Cici laughed. “He looks so insistent.”

“He’s so aggro. What did I do?”

“Oh, darling, it’s me more than you I worry about.”

We rode up to find him there with Betty and Isak, both looking upset.

“Cici, go back,” Nils said.

“What is going on?” Cici asked.

“This is about Ingrid,” Nils said.

“You can say it to us all,” I said.

“You’re out.”

“What?” Cici and I both erupted.

“I got a call. Your grandmother has died. I have a message to relay. You are to put on a black suit and go home immediately. Your sister has organised a transport. There is a car ready to take you back to the hotel.”

“What? But I can win this,” I said. “I…”

“I’m sorry, Ingrid. Take it up with her.”

They called Cici’s number. She was in the hole.

“She’s riding this round,” Cici said. “God damn it, she’s riding it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I sighed. “You know how this goes. And I will have to scratch after.”

“Ride for you . Don’t let that old bat take this beautiful ride and gorgeous day from you. Don’t let her take it from Kraken.”

She trotted off.

“I cannot stop you. It’s going to be all over in 20 minutes. Overjump it if you want,” Nils sighed. “Go. Be free.”

I watched Cici leave. I was only going to be a few minutes behind her. Seven minutes from now, I’d be done. Kraken wound up. We were given the green light, taking off like a shot. I ignored my time. It didn’t matter. We rode the course for fun. It was surprisingly freeing. Watching the world speed by through his ears was the best feeling. Every jump felt like freedom. I was free. Celeste was dead. I was no longer in her wake. But even in death, she’d cost me something big.

I finished strong. I cried because I was proud. I cried because my horse deserved better than a ticket home. I cried because I knew the math suggested I would have finished in the top five, at least, if I’d jumped clean in the show jumping. Yet, I would not get a chance .

Cici gave me a huge hug. “I’m so sorry, darling. So sorry.”

“I am not sad she died.”

“I know you aren’t, but just know that ride was Olympic-level perfection. You deserved to win today. And if I do, you’re getting the trophy. I rode one of my best rides for you.”

“Cici, that’s sweet, but?—”

“Darling, you deserve this. You’ve worked your ass off. Remember how beautiful that ride was, not that the woman who took so much from you continued to. Okay? Promise me!”

Betty hugged me, too. I never expected a group hug from the Scandinavians. I cried.

“You’re going to do beautifully next time.”

“I might miss Kentucky,” I sobbed.

“You will not miss Kentucky. If I must, I will call Leah and pull her off that project in Austria! She will fly you back!”

“Yeah. I’ll guilt her,” Betty laughed. “Or ring Duncan.”

I sniffled. “That is ridiculous—all of it.”

Betty didn’t mention Keir, and I was grateful. His flying me sounded dreadful. I knew he was home again, but I hadn’t heard from him, and I didn’t care to.

“Ride every day. You will finish in the top ten and cement your place for the European Championships. And you’ll get your division pick and join us back here in a year and a half.”

“I am not making D.C.!”

“You are. You will,” Cici said. “We’re going to the Olympics together, babes.”

I snickered, hugged, and kissed her on the cheek, as I had done to Betty. “Okay, I gotta go. I have a plane waiting.”

“Go. Celebrate the bitch being dead,” Cici said. “You’re a very free woman.”