by Wood, Vivian
Five days.
It has been five days since Margot and I fell apart. Four sleepless nights, five agonizing, drudgery-filled days.
I sit in the backseat of another limo, my eyes closed, wishing… well, I don’t know exactly what I want. I want Margot to reappear, to explain why she was so wrong before when she said she couldn’t live like I do.
“Stellan.”
I crack open my eyes, sliding a look at Erik. He’s sitting beside my against the black leather seats, looking concerned.
“I’m here,” I say, adjusting my big body in the car.
He looks at me, scrubbing a hand through his blond hair. “We’re almost back at the palace.”
I loosen my tie, feeling miserable. “Ja, okay.”
Glancing out the window as Copenhagen flies by, I flutter my eyes closed again. Erik clears his throat.
“What can I do to make you less…” He pauses. “Whatever you are right now? It’s hard to watch you be so… listless. Is this still about Margot?”
I laugh and look at him again. “It’s about everything and nothing, all at once.”
He cocks his head. “Who rejected whom?”
His question puts a scowl on my lips. “That’s unclear. I laid out an ultimatum… and she backed away from it.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I just want to move on already. I want to be done with all of this.”
Erik squints. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. Maybe you need to talk to a doctor or something.”
I shoot him a glare. “It’s not that bad.”
“Today you kept calling the minister of health Prime Minister Kelley, even after you had been corrected numerous times. Yesterday, at the gala, you were totally distracted and got drunk in public. I could go on.”
I roll my eyes. “So?”
“So, you need to shake this off. You’re the fucking crown prince of Denmark. If you want to drown your sorrows in women, all you have to do is say so. If you want to do something daring and dangerous, I have like five activities up my sleeve, waiting for you to say the word. But you’ve got to pull it together.”
I clamp my mouth shut, glaring at the front of limo. When I don’t respond, Erik shifts his weight.
“I’m sorry that Margot hurt you.”
I look at him funny. My heart squeezes in my chest. “She didn’t hurt me.”
He slides me a skeptical look. “No? You wouldn’t call this behavior you’ve been displaying heartbreak?”
If I could kill with a look, Erik would be bleeding out right now. “No. It’s not heartbreak. It’s… disappointment. It turns out that all my initial biases about Margot were right on target… I just allowed myself to get distracted by the nice ass and pretty blue eyes that those things accompanied.”
He doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Furrowing his brow, he shakes his head. “It still sucks to go through a breakup. I mean… you’ve never really had to go through one before. Because of who you are, girls just flock to you. And you’ve never really spent any time with a girl who didn’t want the crown.”
I roll my eyes. He’s right about one thing: Margot definitely didn’t want the crown or anything attached to it.
Outside my window, the palace looms close. The second we stop, I bolt out of the back seat, not waiting around for Erik. He has to jog to catch up with me as I head inside, taking the stairs two by two.
I come to a halt when I reach the landing, squinting at the circus that awaits me there. No less than twenty young girls stroll up and down the hall, which is set up with a runway like a fashion show. The girls model barely-there dresses for my little sister, who sits at one end of the runway, her head cocked. Loud, upbeat music blares from a single speaker.
As soon as Erik and I walk over, suddenly the models are far more interested at making sexy faces in our direction than whatever Annika has them doing.
Annika turns around, spots us, and heaves a sigh.
“Girls, please!” Annika says, clapping her hands to get the models. “Take a five minute break, then we are all going again.”
“What are you doing?” I ask her, annoyed. “This is my private hallway, Nika.”
She scrunches up her face, standing up. I realize now that she’s also wearing a sparkly silver dress similar to those the models have on; if Momse saw Annika right now, she would have a heart attack.
Annika gives me a cool smile. “Hello, big brother. It’s nice to see you too.” She wrinkles her nose. “This hallway has the best light. I need tons of good natural light for the fashion show I’m working on. Don’t worry, it’s for charity.”
I grit my teeth. “Annika, take your models and your… party… somewhere else. I’m not in the mood.”
Annika pulls a face. “You suck.” She turns, cupping her hands to her mouth. “Turn the music off! We’re moving to another floor!”
I glance at Erik, who is staring at Annika’s barely covered ass so hard that it’s a miracle it’s not on fire. The look of longing on his face is an emotion I know all too well. It’s the exact look I used to give Margot, before we fell into bed together.
I reach out and shove him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He glances at me, his eyes widening. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
Erik starts pushing his way past the models and the runway, trying to get to the door of my study. I’m right on his heels, shoving him again once we make it into the study.
“On top of all the shit that I’m dealing with right now, the breakup with Margot and the upcoming coronation… I have to worry about you trying to fuck Annika?”
He pins me with a hard gaze. “Jesus. No. I swear. It’s just been too long since I’ve gotten any pussy, that’s all.”
I glare at him. “That had better be all. You know better than to fuck around with Annika. She’s only eighteen. Barely an adult.”
“Stel, come on. Even if I was tempted — and I’m not saying that I am — I’m not stupid. Our friendship is more important than any crazy ideas my libido might have.”
Getting very close to Erik’s face, I stare him down. “It has better be. Twenty years we’ve been friends. Longer than Annika has even been alive.”
“Ja. I know. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up, okay?”
I scan his face for signs of deception, but I come up empty handed. Shaking my head, I push past him. “You’d better remember that.”
He gives me an odd look. “You really are fucked up right now, you know that? You should be more focused on making some kind of decision.”
I throw myself down into one of the overstuffed leather chairs. “A decision about what, Erik?”
He takes a seat on the corner of my highly polished desk. looking down his nose at me. “It seems like you either need to call Margot, or you need to find some other way to deal with the breakup.”
I scowl at him. “I’m not calling Margot. Things between us are done and dusted.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Okay. So let me throw a party. I’ll invite a ton of girls and we’ll all have a great time. You can have this weekend to party and recover, then be on your feet again by Monday.”
This idea of throwing a huge party leaves a bad taste in my mouth. “I’ll pass.”
Erik checks his watch, then stands and wanders over to the bar setup that we always have on hand. He pours two glasses of whiskey, sauntering over to hand one to me.
I take a sip, though it can’t be past two in the afternoon.
He drinks a little, looking at me. “You need to relax.”
“I don’t want to relax,” I fire back, feeling prickly.
“What do you want to do, then? Huh? You can’t spend any more time brooding.”
Sitting back, I stare at the whiskey in my glass. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to feel like this anymore,” I admit to him.
“Great.” He walks over to my desk and sets his tumbler down, pulling out his phone. I watch him texting for a minute.
“Who are you texting?” I ask.
>
He looks up at me. “You said you don’t want a huge party. So I am arranging for something more private and intimate. You, me, a couple of girls, a discreet evening.”
Draining the contents of my glass, I stand and put the glass next to his. “Just give me a few days by myself, okay? I just… I need time.”
His eyes narrow on my face. “To heal?”
“One more comment about how Margot broke my heart and I am going to punch you right in the nose.”
He grins. “That’s the spirit. No woman can keep you down!”
Rubbing my temple, I turn toward the door. “You are impossible. And on that note, I’m going to go lie down.”
Leaving my study, I head down the hall toward my bedroom. But Erik’s voice still echoes in my head.
And that’s not heartbreak you’re experiencing?
I don’t know what it is, but I’m ready for it to be over, and soon.
Chapter Forty-Four
Margot
My least favorite place to be in the whole entire world has got to be my current one: in Anna’s office at Politiken, listening to her vent about how useless I am.
“I got a call early this morning,” she shouts, pacing back and forth over the small office’s length. “And would you believe it, it was from His Majesty’s Press Office, calling to officially axe the article that you were apparently, supposedly, theoretically writing for us.”
I slide an inch lower in my chair, my face turning neon pink. My input is not required for Anne’s critique so I just swallow and try to ride it out.
As if I need another reminder that Stellan and I are over. Just thinking about it makes my eyes watery — and I swore that today, six days after we broke up, I wouldn’t dissolve into tears in front of everybody.
Anne turns, pinning me with her dark gaze. “Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself, Margot?”
I suck my lower lip between my teeth and bite down. “No, ma’am.”
She paces the tiny space for a half a minute, her face contorting with anger. “Of course not. You know, the press office refused to explain why they pulled the plug on this project… but the young woman that called said it was not their idea.” She stops, turning to glare at me again. “That means that it was your idea, Margot. Is that right?”
I look down at my lap. “It’s very complicated, Anna.”
She laughs coldly. “You know what? Get out of my office before I fire you. As a matter of fact, take some time before you even think about coming back here.”
I think she expects me to stay, to fight with her over my job. But I’m up and out of her office as soon as she says that. I can feel her eyes burning holes in my body as I gather my things.
As I barrel out of the front door, I repress a sob.
No Stellan.
No job.
Paparazzi mobbing the doorway of Pippa’s apartment.
Will I even last here in Copenhagen? Because it sure feels like I have ruined Denmark for myself. Aside from Pippa, I’m essentially alone in a foreign country.
My eyes well up and I dash away my tears as I head toward the river.
“Margot! Wait!”
I turn to see Pippa rushing toward me, looking concerned. She catches up to me and throws her arms around me as I try not to cry.
“This place sucks!” I moan into her hair.
“Oh.” She pets me as one would a cherished dog, caressing my hair. “I’m sorry. You should know that Guy asked me to come down and fetch you. Apparently, he didn’t like the way that Anna handled you at all.”
I allow myself one more whimper, then put some space between us. Pippa offers me a leather satchel, smiling a bit.
“It’s a laptop. He thought you might have an interesting perspective on the royal family, if you feel up to it.”
I take the satchel, adding it to the burden I already carry on my shoulder, including my tote bag. “Thanks.”
She cocks her head, rubbing my shoulder. “Have you eaten anything?”
I nod. “A whole pint of gelato, straight from the container.” My cheeks go pink. “And a cupcake.” I pause. “And a whole loaf of French bread with butter.”
She arches a brow. “I see. Heartbreak apparently makes you eat.”
I nod. “I couldn’t sleep again last night so I just stared at the ceiling and ate a whole block of cheese.”
She grins. “Sadness-induced insomnia coupled with a little fridge binge. Got it. Honestly, I’ve heard of worse things.”
I scrunch up my face. “My stomach hurts.”
“Come over here,” she says, marching me over to a bench and sitting me down. She sits beside me, squinting up into the bright blue sky. “Have you heard anything from him?”
Her question knocks the breath out of my lungs, so I just shake my head. She heaves a sigh.
“Stellan is quick tempered, as I’m sure you’ve found out. But he’s also fair minded. I’m sure if you called him, he would take you back in a heartbeat.”
I pucker up my face like I’m tasting something sour. “That will solve exactly nothing.”
Pippa looks at me out of the corner of an eye, pushing her cheek out with her tongue. “Can I be really blunt?”
I raise my eyebrows. “I thought you already were.”
She makes a face. “I think that this was your first fight.”
I give her my most dubious look. “We fought all the time when I first moved to Copenhagen, Pippa.”
She rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t count at all. Since you guys have been all lovey dovey, you haven’t been cross with each other. Then when you did get frustrated with each other, there was so much pressure on him to settle down… and on you to say yes to being a royal…” She wrinkles her nose. “It was a powder keg, just waiting for a match to be struck.”
I suck a deep breath in, struggling not to start crying again. “I love him, Pippa. I really do.”
Her hand lands on my knee, rubbing little comforting circles in my flesh. “I know, Mags. I know.”
“It was just an insane amount of pressure,” I admit, putting my bags down on the ground. “I wanted to say yes to him. I really did. But the timeline was all kinds of fucked up.”
“Yes,” Pippa says with a nod. “I think if you two didn’t have to face his upcoming coronation so soon…”
“God!” I cry out, looking heavenward. “That really put a rush on things. I was trying to tell him to slow down… that things were going too fast for me… but I think that he just had so much pressure from his grandmother and his family that he couldn’t hear what I was saying.”
She sighs. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to say.”
I look at her for several long beats. “What?”
“If you really love Stellan, I think you should try to reach out to him.”
“What?” My cheeks heat. “No way! No. He told me not to come back.”
She rolls her shoulders. “Call it the heat of the moment. Wouldn’t it just be tragic if he feels the same way and you never know because you’re both so damn stubborn?”
I make a disgruntled sound. “What if I were to show up at the palace and he doesn’t want to see me? That would be so embarrassing, I don’t even have the words.”
She smirks. “So you do want to try?”
“I didn’t say that!” I protest.
“Okay, but let’s just say that you decide you are willing to give it a go.” She puts up a hand to stop my complaint. “We are just brainstorming here. No harm, no foul. Yes?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Just brainstorming,” I reiterate. “Just… in case.”
A dimple flashes in Pippa’s cheek. “What if you made like… a grand romantic gesture?”
I scoff. “Like showing up at the airport at the last moment? Isn’t the guy supposed to do that?”
Pippa shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe for other people, yeah. But you? You’re Margot Keane. You’re a rebel. You live by your own rules. And if you want
to make a grand gesture, then by god, you can do it!”
I stare at Pippa for a second. “I just realized that you actually believe in me. You are a really good friend, you know that?”
She beams at me. “Duh. I’ve always believed in you, Mags.”
I hug her, sudden and hard. She makes a funny noise at first, but then she relaxes and claps me on the back. When I pull back, Pippa arches a brow.
“So. Shall we make a list of romantic grand gesture ideas?”
I shake my head slowly. “No.”
Her eyebrows rise. “No?”
“I just realized that we work at the main newspaper in the country. Millions of people see whatever gets onto our front page.”
Pippa looks shocked for a second. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”
I squint at her. “Maybe. I mean, my words will almost definitely reach Stellan. And if it works, I am sure the Politiken editors will forgive me.” I wrinkle my nose. “Right?”
She looks a little unsure. “If it doesn’t work, Margot… if you publish a personal letter addressed to Stellan in a public paper…”
I wince. “I would have to leave the country.”
“Yeah, that would be the least of your worries.”
“So… I’ll have to make my letter really good,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Oh god. Am I really going to do this? Agh! Where would I even begin?”
Pippa’s lips curve upward and she slides me a knowing glance. “Start at the beginning.”
She picks up the leather satchel, opening it to reveal the laptop inside. Then she stands, tucking her glorious red hair behind her ears.
“I should get back to my own work,” she says with a sigh. “Good luck. Call me when you need help.”
“Thank you, Pippa.” I crack open the laptop and open a blank word processing document. “Start at the beginning. I can do that…”
Typing out the first line, I start the scariest letter I will probably ever write.
Chapter Forty-Five
Stellan
My father clears his throat and adjusts his seat at the table. We’re having breakfast on the vast veranda of Gråsten Palace, where he and my mother are currently staying.
