15. 15

15

Edie

L yra insists I do more shots with them.

Shots, as in plural.

Princess Lyra has always struck me as a person who doesn't like to drink alone and persuasive enough to convince anyone to be her new best friend.

Apparently, I am now one of them.

Lyra and Kate are both younger than I am—I had graduated high school before they even got there—and except for Kalle, I've never been particularly close to the rest of the royal family. But I got to know them being part of Odin and Camille's wedding.

And now, it looks like I am close enough for Lyra to want to drink with me.

Or it could be because I make good cocktails.

The rain still pours down, and rolls of thunder shake the windows and make me jump. The bar is Thursday-night busy, but the chaos of the lunch rush has thinned out as pitchers of beer and sitting at a table all day have sent many back home to more comfortable furniture.

There's still enough to keep me serving between making shots. Battle Harbour is a beer and mead type of town, with the odd customer drinking too much whiskey or Screech, but more than a few regulars are curious enough about the bottles being used to order what Lyra and Kate are having.

I took a mixology course a few years ago and it's fun to revisit some of the recipes. I pull down the blue cura?ao, coconut rum, and every fruit-flavoured vodka we've got, and even unearth the dusty bottle of absinthe. Add them together and I can create cocktails and shots that have Kate cheering over the colours and taste.

I'm clearing up a row of sixteen shot glasses when Mabel Crow joins the crowd grouped around Lyra and Kate.

"What can I get you?" I ask her.

Mabel nods at Lyra. "Whatever she's having."

Mabel is a common sight in the drinking establishments of Battle Harbour, but after the rumours about her and Prince Gunnar that broke up him and Kate, I've never seen a conversation between Mabel and any of the family.

And I've definitely never seen her speak to Kate.

"Make us something fancy," Lyra instructs, leaning with her elbow on the bar to face Mabel so that Kate is blocked. "How's your sister?" she asks.

Mabel smirks. "Which one?"

"The one my brother was madly in love with until she skipped town and broke his heart. Hettie."

There's a flicker in Mabel's expression before it smooths into a masklike blandness. "She's good, last time I spoke to her."

"Where'd she end up?"

"Don't you leave town to make sure nobody knows where you end up? "

Lyra sniffs and stiffens when Kate tries to push her aside. "I talked to Gunnar about what happened between the two of you," Kate announces.

I hold the bottle of vanilla vodka aloft and hold my breath.

"Did you now?" Mabel narrows her eyes. "And what did the Playboy Princeling say about that?"

"Nothing. He said nothing happened."

Another flicker; I only notice because I'm watching Mabel. It almost looks like relief. But her voice is cool. "If that's what he says," she says with a shrug.

"It's what he says. And I believe him."

"Goody for you."

"And I'm sorry," Kate continues doggedly, "that everyone thought of you like a scarlet woman."

Mabel glances down at her plaid shirt, which is tight around the chest and has one extra button undone. "I do like red."

"It wasn't fair," Kate says. "And I'm sorry I didn't believe him."

"You're apologizing to me?"

"Yes," she says with a proud lift of her chin. "And I'd like to pay for your drink."

Another shrug. "Suit yourself. I'm not one to say no to that."

"I should have believed him," Kate repeats.

Lyra nudges her. "It's okay."

"It is okay," Mabel agrees. "You were young, and he is the Playboy Prince."

"But he wasn't then," Kate says.

"No." Mabel gives her a tiny smile. "He wasn't."

I let out the breath that I've been holding and Mabel glances at me. "What? Did you think I came over to cause trouble? "

"I think there's a lot of history between you and them," I tell her. "I came back last night to find a bar fight, so I don't want Kalle coming back to the same thing."

Mabel has a pretty, musical laugh that doesn't go with the rest of her. "Shame I missed that. Don't worry, Edie, I'll be good."

"Even though being good is boring," Lyra cuts on.

"Have you grown up to be the royal rebel, then?" Mabel asks her. "I always thought it would be Kalle."

I set three shots on the bar before anyone can make another comment. "No more for you?" Kate asks.

"I'm still working."

"I want to go dancing," Lyra complains as she clicks the tiny glasses with Mabel and Kate. "There really isn't a good place to go around her for a girls' night. Of course I like drinking for free at my brother's pub—"

"Who says you're drinking for free?" I demand.

Lyra waves a hand at me, nails bitten but still painted a vibrant turquoise. "Don't worry, I tip exceedingly well. When Kalle started this place, I was still pretty depressed by our mother dying, and he promised that I would never have to pay for a drink here. You can ask him." She blinks innocently at me.

I laugh. "I think I will since I've never heard that one before."

"I will pay, because these are really good drinks." Kate holds up her glass.

"I'd like somewhere to dance," Lyra continues. "I haven't been dancing since I've been back."

"We danced at the wedding," Kate said. "I danced with Jackson. It was nice." Her smile droops .

Lyra nudges her shoulder. "We're not talking about Jackson. We're talking about dancing."

"You can dance here." I jerk my chin at the tiny piece of hardwood behind the pool table at the back of the room. "We push the tables back."

"What do you do for music?" Lyra cocks her ear to listen for the background music all but drowned out by the raucous laughter at the pool table and the curling tournament playing on the three televisions mounted on the walls.

"I turn it up." I set Kalle's old iPhone on the bar before Lyra. "What do you want to listen to?"

Ten minutes later, Lyra has stopped the pool game, got the tables pushed back, and along with Kate, is bouncing on the make shift dance floor to Olivia Rodrigo.

It just goes to show how beloved Lyra is, because there is only a murmur of complaint when the music starts, and quickly the girls are surrounded by a group of fishermen, Mabel and her friends, and Jubblie Mark, as drunk as he was last night, but much happier. All of them are in varying degrees of intoxication but having fun. And no one is fighting.

The only fight there's going to be in here tonight is between Kalle and me when I tear a strip off of him for going out with Fenella.

Or maybe I won't. Because after I get Tyler to man the bar, I go and join them dancing and soon, I'm having too much fun to stay mad at Kalle.

That's usually what happens.