No one does, outside of my grandmother, Erik, and the royal fixers. I clear my throat and rub my temples.
“Are we almost there yet?” I grit out.
Erik sighs, looking at his phone. “Ja, we’re only a minute away.”
When we arrive at the large factory, I look up at the two-story slab of cement. I’m strangely nervous, though I would guess that has more to do with Margot being here than the public nature of my visit. “What does this place make again?”
Erik consults his phone. “Porcelain plates.”
“Mole people will probably make porcelain plates their first form of currency,” Annika says, straightening her aquamarine dress.
I shake my head as I stride up to the factory. I mirror her, shaking the wrinkles out from my light gray suit. Adjusting my powder blue tie, I shake hands with the owner of the plant and several other people that are deemed important.
“God morgen.” I smile and shake hands with another man whose name I will not remember. “Det er godt at være her. Ja tak, hvis det ikke er til besvær.”
Good morning. It is good to be here. Thank you so much for taking the time to show me around.
Smile, shake hands, repeat until I’m sick with it. Just part of being the crown prince, I guess.
All the while, I’m scanning the small crowd that has gathered by the front doors to meet me. Annika is all smiles and zero sarcastic comments as she shakes hands to my left. Erik is his usual brooding self as he hovers by my right side, shaking hands only when they are thrust at him.
As I am ushered inside, I spot Margot standing in the entryway there, just out of the way. Her hair is still pink and long, pulled up in a messy bun. She’s still petite, her face still sweetly heart-shaped.
But this time instead of her short plaid skirt and a Hole t-shirt ripped in a dozen places, she’s wearing a pair of sensible black dress pants and a black blazer. She still rocks her pink Converse and what looks like a band t-shirt under the blazer.
And looking at her still makes my heart lurch and stutter.
God, if she even hints at feeling the same way about me, I will be so completely, utterly fucked. All I have known up until now is duty.
But one look at Margot, at her beauty and her unbridled enthusiasm for life, and that all falls away. I can’t ever let her know that she makes my heart race; if she has the slightest idea what is going on in my head right now, she could close her fist and crumple me like a sheet of paper.
It’s time to put on my mask.
Tamping down on my facial expression, I turn my head away and pay closer attention to what the factory owner is saying to me now. Something about the plates his factory makes… something dull, no doubt.
But out of the corner of my eye, I watch Margot turn around and lay eyes on me properly. Time slows down. Her eyes widen, her breath catches.
There is something magical about the effect we have on each other, even from thirty paces away. Somethingelectric. For just the briefest moment, we are the only two people in the whole world.
This,thisis the reason that she had me teetering on the edge of falling for her.
“Stellan,” Erik says, elbowing me. “The plant manager just asked if we would like a tour. I think we would, don’t you?”
I pull my gaze away from Margot and zero in on the people I’m supposed to be talking to. “Ja, ja. Hvis du venligst.”
The plant manager beams like this is the most exciting thing that has ever happened in her whole career. She ushers us all down the hall and through a series of doors.
For the next half an hour I put on a thoughtful face, sometimes switching it up for an astonished one. Everyone’s eyes are on me, making sure that I’m pleased with the porcelain plates.
I honestly couldn’t give half a fuck, but I nod and smile. Annika nods and smiles too, and interjects questions where they are appropriate. We are more than just ourselves to these people, after all…
We are two members of the royal family and the rulers of Denmark. I don’t even have to remind myself to keep up a cool and aloof veneer around normal people.
I think they are as alien to me as I am to them, honestly.
When we are done with the shaking hands and smiling portion of the morning, Erik wordlessly offers me a squirt of hand sanitizer. And I take it; this gesture is repeated so often on days like today that it’s almost second nature for me.
Margot is at a table by herself, admiring a stack ofplates. I clear my throat, adjust my tie, and walk over. When she looks up, she bites her lip. Her dark blue eyes are full of unanswered questions.
