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“I’m fucking starving, Tiny One. I don’t know about you, but I am going to eat everything I can get my hands on when I get back.”
Hyzenthlay made noises. She hadn’t got the hang of too many words yet. It was interesting watching Hyzenthlay develop against Alex and Erin’s babies. Matilda was definitely the best at words so far. She seemed to be the baby with all the brains. Hyzenthlay could understand things, but still was struggling with words beyond Mama and no. Vic thought no was a good word to have. A very useful word throughout life so an excellent choice of first word for Hyzenthlay.
Vic could see the flurry of activity around the castle, the convoy of black Range Rovers in the driveway, the increased security that had flooded the premises. The red, gold and blue Royal Standard flag was at full mast at the front of the castle.
“Looks like the Queen is back in residence, Tiny One. Let’s go and see your cousins!”
“Mama,” Hyzenthlay said, happily.
Vic, Hyzenthlay and the assortment of dogs burst into the living room of the castle into the utter chaos that had descended in Vic’s absence. The room was suddenly filled with babies, nannies, Erin and Alex, Jess and Vic’s assortment of dogs happily greeting everyone, including their excited Great Dane, Audrey, who was knocking things off tables with her big ass every time she turned around.
Vic pulled the backpack off her shoulders and released an eager Hyzenthlay into the mix.
“Welcome home, bitches!” Vic shouted and Alex ran over and kissed her. “Lovely to see you, my Queen,” Vic said, lifting Alex off the floor and swinging her round while Alex laughed. Now Alex was no longer pregnant with triplets, she was back to her usual tiny self and Vic had always enjoyed lifting her up and swinging her around.
“Bodyguard,” Vic nodded to Erin, using the nickname she always had for her since Erin had originally been Alex’s bodyguard. “I saw you earlier so I’m not hugging you again.”
“Fine by me,” Erin smiled. Erin looked happy to have her family back with her. Vic realised it was becoming a challenge for Erin to balance being a parent and wife of the Queen, and therefore needed in Central London with her family, alongside her riding ambitions. Erin hadn’t said it out loud but Vic knew she was hoping to make it onto the British Equestrian team one day. Vic was her coach. Vic had spent time on the British team years ago, with Excelsior, back when she had won her Olympic medals and also the World Championships. She had kind of retired after that when Excelsior had suffered an unlucky, career-ending tendon injury. What more was there to win? What more was there to prove?
People had said she should have sold Excelsior when he was at the top, but she had never regretted that. He lived at the castle still now, living out his retirement in the luxury he deserved, lush green fields, a lovely warm stable, plenty of attention. Excelsior had given her everything and she would never forget that.
She was selected for the British team two years after Excelsior’s World Championships win with Amaro, a lovely talented mare, but she had turned it down. People had thought she was mad, but the team environment had never really worked for her. She was a lone wolf; she didn’t like being told what to do. Amaro was young and wasn’t ready for that level of competition and Vic wouldn’t have her pushed into it before she was ready. Amaro had some maturing to do and Vic would give her every chance to do that in her own time. She wouldn’t have the British team coaches interfering with her training and competition schedule that Vic had carefully laid out with the input of her own, carefully chosen coaches.
Now Vic focussed on young horses, buying them, training them, selling them. She didn’t compete at top level anymore and she was fine with that. Without Excelsior, it wasn’t the same. Recently Satan had inspired her more than any other horse since Excelsior; he had that same unshakable arrogance to him. He might have been difficult, but Vic loved him. She wondered if he might be the horse that inspired her to get back to the top?
Meanwhile, she was coaching Erin and her horse, Shimmer. Erin was a talented rider, and with Vic’s help, she was fine tuning and coming into her own. Shimmer was a great horse. The biggest problem with the two of them was Erin’s fucking self-doubt. It was something that if she wanted to compete with the best, she would need to phase it out. It is tough at the top of any sport and more often than not, the ones who win are the ones who believe that they can.
Vic looked up as Alex called across the room, “Olivia, please take the children to the playroom. Vic,” she looked at Vic, “Do you want her to take Hyzenthlay too?”
“Oh, no not yet. She will be hungry; I was hoping you might have ordered food. I’m going to feed her.”
Olivia, the nanny, enlisted help from Jess and made it out of the room with the three little heirs to the throne. It was funny looking at them like that, Vic thought. So little and innocent and yet one day they would have such a huge weight of responsibility on them. Well, Florence would, at least. Technically Florence came out first, so Florence was the eldest and therefore the heir to the throne. It was strange because Matilda and Frank were both bigger than her, and Matilda was obviously the smartest of the three; she was the most advanced and developing beyond her age, yet it was little Florence that the crown would fall to. Princess Florence, who looked most like Alex.
“I have indeed ordered food. I know what you are like when you’ve been out at the stables all morning.”
As though right on time, the door opened and a flurry of servants headed in with trolleys full of food.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” Vic said. “Excellent. I am fucking starving.”
She scooped up Hyzenthlay and followed the procession of food trolleys into the dining room picking bits out of any open bowl.
“Victoria! Manners! At least wait till they have put it out on the table,” Alex reprimanded her half-heartedly.
“Who do you think you are, the fucking Queen?” Vic was razor sharp with her response and Alex laughed.
Soon they were tucking in to a delicious spread on the table. It was a selection of traditional French food and Vic helped herself to a bowl of French onion soup and a big chunk of bread and butter.
Vic tore at the bread with her hands and dipped it in her soup. It tasted so good.
There was a knock at the door and it opened slowly. It was Julia Wilding, Alex’s Royal Advisor. The same Julia that Vic had secretly crushed on from afar. The same Julia that Vic had secretly nicknamed Swoony-Julia or Swoolia for short. The same Julia that had been kind to Vic and helped her when she thought she might have an abortion. The same Julia that had held Vic’s hand while she gave birth.
The last time Vic had seen Julia properly, Vic had been naked, sweaty and bloody, giving birth in a pool high on gas and air.
She had a vague memory of flirting with Julia whilst high and she couldn’t imagine she did a good job of it. She had never really thanked Julia for being there for her.
Oh god, this is fucking awkward.
“Come in, Julia, sit down,” Alex welcomed Julia in. Alex looked to Vic, “Julia will be joining us for lunch, but we won’t talk business, I promise.”
