Page 16

CHAPTER 16

I t’d been four days, and Victoria could not get that kiss out of her mind. The weight of it. The slight shake in Ash’s hands as they touched her face. How it had started gentle, but soon turned hungry, desperate.

The problem was, she wanted to be able to focus on other things in her life, too. To not be constantly distracted. To chop an avocado without nearly slicing her finger off. To get out of the shower without nearly crashing to the floor. To put her bra on the right way, and not get waylaid thinking of the moment when Ash’s fingertips grazed her nipple, and her mind had staggered left like it had just been shot.

Being able to function was the minimum requirement for Victoria. But multiple kisses in the back seat from England’s captain, and she was a total wreck.

She wasn’t sleeping well either, due to staying up late messaging Ash, who was five hours behind on the East Coast. The team were playing their first game tomorrow, so they were training every morning, and doing team activities in the afternoon. Yesterday, the Ravens had gone on a boat around the Hudson River. Today, somebody had booked them onto a Segway tour of the city, but their manager had quickly unbooked them, stating that was too dangerous for professional footballers.

Victoria had messaged earlier to say the same thing happened to her.

It was decided Segways were too dangerous for royalty. Did you know the man who invented them died on one a year after he sold the company?

We’re both too valuable for a Segway.

Keep your legs safe for your job, and your hands and mouth safe for me, please.

Objectification!

It’s getting to be a terrible habit.

She’d never understood the need to send tit pics to a partner, but now she did. She wanted to take her and Ash to the next level, and the temptation was overwhelming. But even though she trusted Ash, what if her phone fell into the hands of her more boisterous team-mates? Victoria could just imagine the briefing with her PR team for that one. It didn’t bear thinking about.

Victoria’s scattiness hadn’t escaped Michael’s notice, either.

“What’s going on with you, Vix?” he’d asked this morning, after she hung up her wetsuit from her morning swim. He’d just made the world’s strongest coffee which she loved him for, and presented her with a cup. “Every time I see you, you look lost in thought. And every time you wield a knife lately, I feel the need to duck.” He zig-zagged sriracha onto his scrambled eggs as he spoke.

She waved away his worries. “I’m fine. I’m just a little preoccupied with work stuff. The homeless charity has nearly finished its first centre, so I’m going to visit them this week. Excitingly, we’ve managed to make half of the ten centres LGBT+, which I’m thrilled about. Plus, the Emir of Qatar and his wife are in town this week, and Dexter and I met them for dinner last time around. I’m going solo this week, but it feels a little odd.”

What would it feel like to have Ash beside her as her partner?

Odd, too. She couldn’t imagine it. She’d never gone into an event like that with a romantic partner by her side who she wanted to be with. She’d had Dexter, and she’d had Michael. That was it. But on the horizon, maybe that might change. Walking in with Ash would be a dream.

Michael took a bite of his egg-topped sourdough, then swallowed before speaking. “A homeless charity with a queer flavour, and the Emir of Qatar are two ends of the spectrum.”

“I like to live my life with balance,” Victoria told him. “Plus, if they meet me, they’ll see queer people are just like them when I eventually come out.”

His eyes widened. “Since when are you coming out?”

She waved a hand. “It’s just a turn of phrase.” Not strictly true.

He studied her. “You want me to come to dinner with you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re offering? Are you feeling okay?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You could do with some support, that’s all. This Dexter stuff is still rumbling on with the papers. Did you see they snapped him and Sid together at that polo game the other day?”

“I did. He messaged me and apologised. But they were just standing next to each other. Sid had a hand on his arm, but they were hardly humping in plain sight.”

“Now that would be a photo to get the world talking.” He paused. “Plus, now you’ve got a certain footballer in your sights, too. I heard you were playing footsy at the James Bond premiere the other night.”

His words were like a bucket of ice over her head. “What?” All her blood drained south, and not for the right reasons. “Who told you that?”

He put down his cutlery and frowned. “You’re going to have to practice your reaction to her name if this is going somewhere, because honestly, that was terrible.”

“What have you heard?” If there were tongues wagging, she wanted to know.

“Nobody said anything. Tanya let it slip when we were chatting the other day that you’d sat next to each other. I put two and two together after I heard about you meeting in Marbella, and again when you went to the FA the other day. Once is nothing. Twice is a coincidence. Three times, and I know something’s up.”

He ate more of his food as Victoria squirmed.

“Am I warm?”

She pushed herself off the counter, then stood opposite him in the kitchen as Albert, their butler, walked in.

“Morning, Your Highnesses,” he said, bowing. No matter how many times she and Michael had told Albert to call them by their first names, he refused. He was a classically trained butler and nothing would shake him from his old-school principles. “Just getting something from the pantry. Don’t mind me, I’ll be gone in a tick.”

They waited for him to leave before they continued.

“Well?”

She nodded, not wanting to say anything out loud. The house had ears.

“You are. But please keep it to yourself. It’s very early days and we haven’t been able to get together because either I’m out of the country, or she is.”

“Where is she?”

“America. Pre-season tour.”

He nodded, then took a sip of his coffee. “And this is what to you? A dalliance? A walk on the wild side? I’m sure she’s lovely, but she’s not really your norm.” He wound his finger in a circle in front of her face. “I’m not sensing casual here. Your face is scaring me. Last time I got anything like this was with Hermione…”

She folded her arms over her chest. She desperately wanted to talk to someone about Ash, but to do so before anything had truly happened didn’t feel right.

However, her brother had just pointed out the elephant in the room. That Ash was not from their world. She didn’t understand royal protocol. Had Victoria been getting too caught up in the moment to remember that?

No. If Ash didn’t fit the royal protocol, perhaps royal protocol had to change.

Victoria shook her head. “I just know that it feels very different from Hermione. In a good way.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Be careful, Vic. I’m on your side, but I also want to protect your heart. You know you can’t go falling in love with just anyone. Dexter always told you that. Maybe without him in your life, you’ve forgotten.”

“I can’t help who I like, Michael!” Her head buzzed with conflict. “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

He gave a sad sigh. “This is me being nice.” He walked towards her. “Our family has a terrible habit of destroying anything that isn’t deemed appropriate. You know that.” His gaze held hers, daring her to contradict him.

She had to try. “We haven’t had a chance to explore how we slot into each other’s lives yet. We’re both busy people. Once we do, I guess we’ll know for sure.”

Michael nodded, then put his mug on the side. “Take it slowly is my advice. This is a big deal. You’re a big deal. Plus, the Dexter thing has just settled down. Public opinion is on your side. You need to lie low for a while. Play nice. Remember, you and Ash were seen together at the premiere by the people inside. Who all told their friends. Who all told theirs, too. That’s strike one. Three strikes and you’re out.”

She wished he wasn’t telling the truth, but she knew he was.

“I’m going to start laying the groundwork with mother. Because what I know is that I can’t carry on this half-life I’ve been living. Can I count on your support?”

The look he gave her was filled with such tenderness, it almost broke her. “You can always count on me. From day one. It’s us against the world, remember?”

Victoria spent the following morning meeting with the new head of her homeless charity. David radiated positive energy, and the meeting had left her convinced he was the right person to lead her project to success. Ten centres around the country were due to open over the next six months, and she couldn’t wait for the first one to come to fruition. The media had gone easy on her, not questioning the queer leaning of her charity too much. She was grateful for that, although she knew if she came out, that might change.

In the car afterwards, she’d fallen down a sapphic social media rabbit hole, where fans were currently speculating whether or not Ash and Cam were a couple. United were also in the US, along with the Ravens, and a shot had emerged where Ash’s arm was casually slung over Cam’s shoulder as they walked along a beach. Even though Victoria knew it wasn’t true and that they were best friends, she was still irked by the rumours.

Ash was hers.

Almost.

Now it was lunchtime, and she was in the backseat where she and Ash had shared their first electric kiss. Michael’s words from yesterday fizzed through her mind, as they had for the past 24 hours. However, being back on this white leather made all her doubts disappear. She knew what had happened with Ash. She knew how it made her feel. Maybe she needed to tell her parents that if she wanted things to change.

The car swung around Piccadilly Circus, on the way to Windsor, where she was meeting her mother for their monthly ride. They stopped at the traffic lights, the centre of town bursting with tourists all soaking up the summer vibes. To her right, a vendor sold hot dogs from a metal cart. Victoria had always hankered after one when she was little, but her mother had never let her. One day. The statue of Eros stood tall in the midday sun.

Victoria flicked her gaze to the huge curved electronic advertising hoardings, famous the world over. But what she saw took her breath away. It was Ash, in her ad for Tiffany’s.

Victoria hit the button and lowered her window ever so slightly. She pulled down her sunglasses and inhaled. Damn, Ash was beautiful. She was also unapologetic, in your face.

Ash stared at her down the camera lens, as if daring Victoria to be bold, too. She was making change with her queer charity. Shouldn’t that be echoed in her life?

Victoria put a hand to her chest as her heart thudded inside. Then she closed the window and leaned back.

It felt like a sign.

Maybe it was.

Victoria arrived at the Royal Mews earlier than necessary, as she always did when riding with her mother. She found comfort in the familiar routines: checking the girth on her saddle, running her hands along Artemis’s flanks, the gentle huffs of horse breath in the warm afternoon air. Her mare nudged at her pockets, knowing there’d be treats hidden there.

“She already knows you have them.” The Queen’s voice carried from the entrance, more mother than monarch this afternoon. She was dressed in jodhpurs and a weathered Barbour jacket that was older than Victoria. “You spoil her.”

Victoria gave Artemis a mint. “She deserves spoiling.”

Her mother’s mare, Venus, was already saddled: the staff would never leave the Queen to do it herself, even though she was perfectly capable. They led their horses out in comfortable silence, hooves clicking against the cobbles. The afternoon was pristine, hues of burnt butter and orange dappling the grass of Windsor Great Park, the castle rising behind them like a painting.

It wasn’t until they were well away from the stables, mounted, that her mother spoke again. “How are you doing with the breakup and fallout?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I see Dexter’s not wasting any time. He does know he can’t be seen out with Sidney so soon?”

Victoria gripped her reins tight. “He does. He sent me his apologies. But they’re on the same polo team. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Small deals lead to bigger deals, Victoria. You know that. Don’t leave a trail. What have I always told you? When I was growing up, we had more control over the media and what they reported. But these days, everyone’s a reporter. It’s the wild west.”

She left a silence to put the matter to bed (for now), and the pair kept a steady walk, the August heat too oppressive for anything more ambitious. Even under the canopy of centuries-old trees, the air was thick and still, heavy with the scent of sun-baked grass and late-summer roses. Venus flicked her tail at flies, while Artemis tossed her head occasionally, sweat darkening her neck. A family of pheasants strutted unhurriedly across their path, too heat-drowsy to startle at the horses’ approach.

Victoria gathered her bravery into a shield in front of her, then took a deep breath.

“Moving on from Dexter, though. Which I am doing, because I have to. We were never in love, never even in a relationship, as you know. I’m 33 now, Mother.”

“Don’t I know it. I’ve been reading all the columns on your age and the unfortunate nature of your relationship’s demise.”

Great . “I thought you told us not to read the tabloids? Or is that an instance of ‘do as I say, not as I do’?”

The Queen didn’t answer or turn her head.

It was the latter, then.

“I do want to find a meaningful relationship. One that will make me happy. Now Dexter is done, I need to think about what might happen if I meet someone.” Ash’s face on the Tiffany ad flashed into her mind. Strong. Gorgeous. Defiant. Everything she wanted in a woman.

“You know my feelings, Victoria. We talked about this.”

“That was four years ago. Things change.”

“The world doesn’t.”

“I have.” Victoria gently pulled on the reins, and Artemis let out a puff of breath, then stopped. Her hands trembled, but she had to get this out. “It’s not something you can just make a statement on, put it on a shelf and never revisit.” Her voice cracked slightly on the last word. She straightened her spine, fighting against years of training that told her queens-to-be don’t show emotion.

“This is my life. My future. My happiness. I could abdicate. Tell you I don’t want to be a future Queen if I can’t be myself. But I’m not going to do that, because that’s not who I am. However, I do want to be the best version of me. To do that, I have to live an authentic life.”

Each sentence felt like removing armour she’d worn for too long, pieces of herself she’d locked away clattering to the ground between them.

Next to her, Venus’s ears flicked back and forth. The horse sidestepped, forcing the Queen to soothe her with a practised hand.

“You always said that you wanted your children to be happy.” The words tasted bitter now, childhood memories taking on new shapes in the harsh light of adulthood. “But it feels like that was something you said, rather than something you lived or truly believed. It was lip service.”

Victoria met her mother’s eyes directly, refusing to look away even as tears threatened to blur her vision. “But I need you to remember that when you and Father got together, it was groundbreaking. He wasn’t the norm. He wasn’t from your usual circle. I’m not going to fall in love with the norm, either. I need you on my side for this. I’m not going to hide away anymore. I can’t .”

Her mother’s hands tightened almost imperceptibly on the reins. She stayed silent for a long moment, her eyes fixed on some point beyond Victoria’s shoulder. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, careful.

“The monarchy survived the abdication, Victoria. It survived untimely deaths and a myriad of scandals. But this... This would be different. The tabloids would be relentless. The traditionalists in parliament would have a field day. Everything you do, everything you are, would be scrutinised through this one lens. Is that really what you want?”

“Of course it’s not what I want.” Who would? “But I don’t have a choice. I get to be the person I am, or live a life that will break me. I’d rather die trying than never try at all.”

Her mother looked at her. She’d always been on Victoria’s side. Apart from this, the biggest hurdle of her life.

“What’s making you bring this up now? Have you met someone?”

But Victoria wasn’t ready for revelations. She didn’t know what this thing with Ash was yet.

“There’s nobody in particular. But there might be. Astrid and Sofia made me see that. As did Dexter.”

The Queen raised an eyebrow. “Do his parents know?”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “They’re more in denial than most people I know. This is your chance to show them the way. To really support your kids. It would also do wonders for all the queer kids in society. Think of how much this would help families worldwide if you come out and say, ‘I support my queer daughter to be happy’.”

Her mother drew in a long breath. “I worry about descendants. About the passing on of the throne.”

“I can still have children, Mother.”

There were times when Victoria was reminded her mother was from a different era.

When the Queen spoke again, her voice was quieter, stripped of its usual authority. “When you meet someone, come to me. We’ll talk again then.” Her internal battle danced across her face. “Until then, let me sit with this. Please.” She looked up. “There’s your grandmother to think about, too. I dread to think what she’ll say.”

Victoria had seen this before: her mother, usually so composed, becoming that younger version of herself whenever Gran’s disapproval loomed. Suddenly, Victoria understood the layers that were involved. This wasn't just about her own future anymore. This was about her mother caught between two generations: her gran’s iron grip on tradition, and her daughter’s plea for change.

Victoria had no idea how this would play out, but at least the ball was rolling. It was all she could do.