All the Love in the World: A Holiday Anthology

by Karina Halle

“What’s the point if we’re already taking it down?” Freja asks.

  “Because it’s getting needles everywhere,” I tell her, bending down to lift up the end of it, the tree shedding all over my sweater.

  “And why are we taking it down to begin with?” Clara asks. “We usually keep the decorations up until New Year’s Day.”

  “Because you know that your father and I are going to Norway for New Years and won’t be back until the second. If we take down the decorations now, it’s much easier this way. Besides, it’s the twenty-ninth, and we put everything up on the first. That’s a long time to be in the Christmas spirit. Aren’t you over it?”

  “No.”

  “No!” Clara yells.

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, well over it or not, just do what you can to help.”

  “Why don’t you hire someone to help,” Clara says. “You’re the queen.”

  “I know what I am, but if you two little princesses would move your arses and help me, we could get it done really fast.”

  Clara exhales noisily, and stomps over to me. Together, the three of us manage to steady the tree and finish putting all the decorations away.

  Until Maja chases Snarf Snarf into the room.

  “Snarf Snarf, no!” Freja calls out.

  That pig doesn’t care, and he seems to have a loaf of bread in his mouth.

  He heads straight for us, straight for the tree.

  We have no choice but to get out of the way.

  The tree goes down again, needles flying everywhere.

  I put my head in my hands and groan. “Anyone feel like bacon for breakfast?”

  “We finally did it,” I say softly as the car starts to pull out of the driveway and through the palace gates. I close my eyes and attempt to sink into the seat. “We’re finally alone.”

  Aksel chuckles, holding my hand. “Almost.”

  “Just pretend I’m not here,” Henrik, our driver, says.

  I sit up. Henrik winks at me in the rearview mirror. “I mean it,” he adds.

  I laugh. I’m not about to have sex with Aksel in the car on the way to the airport. It’s not about that anyway (since he did have his way with me late last night). I’m just so damn overwhelmed by the silence, no one screaming in my ear, no one demanding anything of me, whether it be my kids or Denmark in general.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love Clara and Freja as if they were my own, I always have, from the days I started off as a nanny for them. And obviously I would do anything for the twins, even if they’re in the grips of the terrible twos, which has pretty much been happening ever since they turned one.

  But this is the first time I’ve gone anywhere without them. Usually when there’s a royal engagement we take the kids with us. The public loves to see them and they like the outings and the ceremonies as well. There’ve been a few times that Aksel has gone off to meet with some monarch on his own and I’ve stayed behind (to be honest, I hate that diplomatic shit), but that’s about it.

  Now, well, not only are we alone, but we’re together and we don’t have to do anything royal related or see anyone royal related.

  Okay. So that’s not quite true.

  The reason we’re going to Norway is to meet up with our dear friends Magnus and Ella, the Crown Prince and Princess. Magnus had the idea a few months ago that, if we gathered all of our friends together, we could have a small, intimate gathering in his cabin, high in the mountains above some fjord somewhere. Celebrate New Year’s together where there are no paparazzi, no photo shoots, no royal duties, no children. Just us adults, plus Prince Viktor and Princess Maggie of Sweden, and Aksel’s sister and her husband, Princess Stella and Prince Orlando of Monaco.

  It sounded too good to be true, but apparently once crazy Magnus gets an idea, he holds onto it. He made it work, and now it’s happening.

  The first stop for us is the private airstrip outside the city, then a quick flight on our private jet over to Oslo, where we land in a rural area.

  A black car is waiting for us on the tarmac, the driver beside it.

  “Your Majesties,” the man greets us, bowing. “I’ve been sent by Prince Magnus to drive you to the destination.”

  “We’re not going to the palace?” Aksel asks, frowning.

  The man takes our bags over to the trunk.

  “Prince Magnus fucked up,” the man says, throwing the bags in. “He got the times wrong. So, I have to drive you directly to the destination myself before it gets too dark.”

  “And who are you?” Aksel asks, looking as confused as I am over the man’s language, usually not something you hear from drivers or bodyguards, though this guy definitely doesn’t look like the latter.

  “The name is Ottar, your highness,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you to your destination safely. I’ve been behind the wheel of many of Prince Magnus’s getaway vehicles.”

  Getaway vehicles? Then again, this is Prince Magnus we’re talking about. Magnus the Mad, the adrenaline junkie. He’s calmed down since he got married to Princess Ella and they had kids, Tor and Bjorn, and has proudly become an advocate for mental health. But man, did he ever have a past.

  I look at Aksel and shrug. “Looks like the adventure is just beginning.”

  He grins at me, and already my husband looks years younger, as relaxed as I’ve seen him in a long time. “Looks like.”

  We get in the back seat of the car and buckle up before Ottar guns the vehicle out of the airfield.

  Here we go.

  Chapter 2

  Magnus

  “Princess Planet?” I say, rapping on the bathroom door. “This is Prince Shitbag, requesting your presence in the car. Immediately.”

  I hear a disconcerting growl from inside the washroom, then the door flies open. Ella scowls at me, pushing past me into the bedroom. “I hate to rush,” she grumbles, grabbing her overnight bag from the bed.

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I tell her. “But we have to go.”

  “Ugh I feel like I’m forgetting something,” she says, hands pressed on her temples, looking around the room.

  “Don’t forget these!” Jane, her lady-in-waiting, says from the doorway. We turn to see her holding up a clear bag filled with NYE hats, horns, and party favors.

  “Yes, thank you,” Ella says, scurrying over to her and snatching it from her hands. “Jane, you’re a lifesaver. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  Jane eyes me warily. She knows that she was invited, even though I was trying to make this strictly for royals, and royals only. Oh, I’m not a snob by any means, part of me wanted to invite the old timers I sometimes sit with at the bar. But, even though we built an additional cabin to compliment the other one, there’s barely enough room for everyone as it is.

  We’re also doing this without bodyguards. I mean, they’ll be there because we’re not stupid, but they’re staying at a family cabin down the hill, so they won’t be up in our business.

  “You’re crazy if you think you can get me up into the mountains in the middle of winter,” Jane says, shaking her head.

  “Technically, winter only started last week,” I point out.

  “Technical winters don’t apply to you Norwegians.” She eyes Ella. “This party better be worth it. What happens if you get snowed in?”

  “No such thing,” I tell her. “All the snow has already fallen.”

  “What does that even mean? You have a snow quota in this country?”

  “We’ll be fine,” I assure her.

  I walk over to Ella, taking her bag from her arms and the bag of party favors, and then stride out to the main hall where my sister Irene is standing with my sons, Bjorn and Tor (Tor named after my uncle, not our old butler. I mean, I liked the guy, but not enough to name my son after him).

  “Say goodbye to your father,” Irene says to them.

  Tor is sitting on the floor in his diaper, looking dazed and confused, his hair in his eyes, holding onto Irene’s leg. I bend down and pick him off the flo
or, kissing him on both cheeks before putting him in Irene’s arms.

  Then I crouch down so I’m eye-level with Bjorn, who is three years old and highly emotional. “Hey buddy,” I tell him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “We’re leaving for a few days to the cabin, but we’ll be back.”

  Bjorn’s lower lip trembles, which breaks my fucking heart.

  “You promise?” he asks in a small voice.

  “I promise.”

  But I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

  And then the dam opens.

  He bursts into tears. Once he gets going like this, he’s impossible to stop. I glance up at Irene and give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry,” I tell her.

  “It’s fine,” she says, as if she doesn’t have her own life to live. We’ve been through two different nannies already, all of them quitting because either working for a royal family was too much for them, or because Bjorn has been too much. I suspect he’s got ADHD like I have, but he’s still so young and we’re working through the best treatment at this stage. I have my medication, which works for the most part (except for times like today, when I’m planning something and I calculate the time wrong), but there’s still a chance this is normal developmental behavior for him.

  Either way, he’s a handful, so my sisters tend to step up and help when they can. I trust them with our children more than anyone else, anyway.

  “Oh, Bjorn,” Ella says, hugging him, even though he’s not calming down.

  She glances at me over her shoulder, and I know the look in her eyes. It’s the look that tells me she doesn’t want to go, that she doesn’t want to leave her kids.

  This will be the first vacation the two of us have taken in a long time, so even though it’s breaking my heart as much as hers to have to leave them, I know that we can’t be home with them all the time, especially given our positions.

  Eventually, Ella comes to her senses and manages to tear herself away from the kids. I grab her hand, giving it a squeeze, and then we hurry down the steps to the waiting car.

  “I’m a horrible mother,” she sniffs as the car pulls away, my loyal bodyguard Einar at the wheel.

  “Ella,” I tell her, holding her hand. “You are not a horrible mother. And you’re not only just a mother, okay? You’re a woman. You’re Ella. You’re allowed to go off and have fun too, you know?”

  “But they’re hurting, Magnus.”

  “They’re kids and they’re crying and they’ll miss us. Or at least Bjorn will, Tor thinks I’m one of his stuffed animals half the time. But they’ll get over it.” I raise her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it. “I wish you didn’t look so fucking sexy when you’re upset.”

  That brings a look out of her. Her blue eyes narrow. “Magnus. Come on.”

  I shrug. “What? I have you alone now.”

  Her eyes go to Einar at the wheel.

  “You know Einar doesn’t count. He’s a cyborg, anyway. He’s viewing the road right now like one of those digital screens, like the T-1000.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Einar says stiffly.

  “Yes, I know. You always hear me,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. I smile at Ella. “Hence why he’s heard it all. Now, what were we talking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh wait, I was saying you’re sexy when you’re upset, and you were getting mad at me for it.”

  “I’m going to feel guilty this whole time,” she says, looking out the window.

  “No, please don’t. You have to get over it. It’s two days. Tonight, and then tomorrow night’s New Year’s, and then we’re back home. It will go in the blink of an eye and it’s such a rare thing for all of us to be together like this. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

  I stare at her for a moment, her blonde hair pulled off her face into a tight bun. We’re opposites in so many ways. She’s organized, I’m chaos personified. She’s singularly focused, my thoughts are bounding through my head like fucking Tigger. She’s the ice, and I’m the fire.

  Usually I try to conform to her ways, because it’s not always easy (or useful) when you’re reckless, impulsive and forgetful like I am. She keeps me in line, keeps me “adult” when I really am just a giant man-child at heart, and she often saves the day.

  But today, for these next two nights, I want to bend her to me. She needs to let loose, relax, remember what life was like before she got married to me and became the Princess of Norway, before we had Tor and Bjorn. Our courtship was highly unusual, being a marriage of convenience and all, but I remember what it was like when it was just the two of us, getting to know each other, the way I slowly unraveled her like thread from a spool.

  I start by loosening her hair.

  I reach over and start plucking the pins from her hair.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, sounding horrified.

  “Chill out,” I tell her, removing them all until her blonde hair is loose and cascading down her shoulders. “There. Sexy mama.”

  Then I reach into my bag and pull out a bottle of cloudberry liquer handing it to her. “Here.”

  She takes it from me. “What is this?”

  “What does it look like, Princess? Drink it.”

  She blinks at me and, fuck, she looks so damn gorgeous with those big confused eyes and the way her blonde hair spills over shoulders and chest.

  “Drink it or I’m going to get handsy with you,” I say, raising a hand and wiggling my fingers.

  Damn. I think there might be a flicker of lust in her eyes after all.

  But, knowing that I’m not about to make Einar that uncomfortable, she still takes a drink.

  Hands it back to me.

  I grin at her and take an even bigger gulp. The drink is sweet as hell and I’d much rather have the nice burn of a scotch, but the bottle I brought I’m saving for when we get to the cabin.

  We play this game of passing the bottle back and forth between us until we’ve drunk the whole thing, and now we play a whole new game where I’m buzzed and she’s drunk and we aren’t even at our destination.

  We get Einar to pull over eventually, since I need to take a piss, and he drives down a quiet road. It’s deserted, covered in snow, so the car can’t go too far.

  I stumble out of the car, the snow covering my boots as I make my way into the quiet of the pine trees. Last thing I need is for someone to drive past and take a picture of my dick.

  I mean, the public has already seen it with that sex tape I made back in the day, but still.

  I’m almost done when I see Ella stumble out of the car after me, laughing, drunk.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. “You need to go too?”

  She answers me by flinging herself at me, kissing me hard.

  “Thank you,” she whispers against my mouth, wrapping her arms around me.

  “For what?”

  “For getting me drunk,” she says. “I’m already having the best time.”

  I laugh. “We aren’t even there yet.”

  “I know,” she says. “And I know when we get there, we won’t be alone.”

  She places her hands on my face and kisses me again, so hard that I nearly fall backward into the snow. I can’t remember the last time she attacked me with her mouth like this, like she’s trying to devour me. She’s usually so timid and tired that it takes a lot of coaxing for me to get her to even consider having sex with me.

  Luckily, I’m a persistent motherfucker, even if I have my work cut out for me every night. Hey, I don’t blame the woman, she’s a mother and she’s married into my crazy Norwegian family and there’s always a lot going on. I’m a pain in the ass too. But the least I can do is try to get her off a few times a week.

  Right now, however, it seems like she’s trying to return the favor.

  She reaches down, pressing her hand against my crotch, where my dick has turned into a very massive hard-on, straining against the fly of my pants like a monst
er.

  I watch her expression as it changes, her nostrils flaring from lust, the way her smile curves, like she knows she’s being naughty and is about to be wicked. She’s having fun, which, fuck, is all I really wanted for this trip.

  And I let her have her fun.

  Who am I to stand in the way?

  She drops to her knees in the snow, and for a moment I want to bring her back to her feet, knowing her jeans are getting soaked.

  Then I realize this isn’t going to take me very long anyway.

  She unzips my fly and reaches in, pulling my cock out of my briefs.

  The air chills me to the bone, making my spine straighten, but her fist is warm as she grasps me and her mouth even more so.

  Fuck me.

  She slides my tip through her lips, sucking me in as far as I will go, keeping eye contact with me as she does it. I reach down and grab the back of her head, wanting so badly to start thrusting into her mouth around me. Somehow, I get a modicum of control and make a tight fist, slowly guiding her.

  She has other plans. While she stares up at me with those devious, wicked eyes of hers, she starts moving her fist and mouth together, faster and faster. Her mouth is so warm, so wet, her tongue giving just the right amount of pressure over my ridge that I’m already seconds from coming.

  God, I hope Einar isn’t watching this. He really does have eyes on the back of his head.

  But that thought alone isn’t enough to stop it.

  With a jerk, I come, my groans filling the forest, pumping my hips against her mouth as she sucks every last part of me dry.

  Holy fuck.

  My heart is thundering in my chest, my mind chased by euphoria. I stare down at my wife, my princess on her knees, and I’m just in fucking awe.

  “That was fun,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Though, I suppose we should get going.”

  I nod, feeling weightless and dumb, and haul her up to her feet. Her knees are totally soaked through, so we bring out a pair of fleece-lined leggings from the trunk and she quickly gets changed in the back of the car, Einar averting his eyes.

  He cranks the heat and then we’re off. It’s another hour until we arrive at the meeting point, and we dozed off in each other’s arms for the rest of the drive.