My palms are a little sweaty as I reach the car. She’s already inside. She’s small and frail, and yet… she carries herself with the kind of poise that a supermodel would kill for.
When I slide in, Ida waits until we start moving to eye me. “May I be frank with you, Stellan?”
I incline my head. “Please,Momse.”
She looks away, out her window. “Your grandfather was a mighty king. He was fair and just, but he was first and foremost Denmark’s king. Before me. Before his children.” She pauses, drawing a breath and pushing it out. “Having such a remote father figure had an undesirable effect on his children.”
My eyebrows rise. “On my father?”
Ida clears her throat, swinging her gaze around to me. “It was a personal failing, as I see it. I felt responsible. And I was determined that the next generation... that’s you, dear… I was determined that you should grow up with a strong sense of duty. And I hoped that your grandfather would be able to carry the crown until you were ready for it. But… that obviously wasn’t meant to be.”
I am more than a little surprised that my grandmother is being so forthcoming.
“I’m sorry about grandad passing.” I reach out and touch her forearm. She gives me a resigned smile and pats my hand a few times.
“Thank you. But that’s not really the point I am trying to make. I am trying to say that I am not omniscient. I don’t see everything. I can’t always catch every little mistake and correct it before other people see it.”
Fuck. So she does want to talk about Margot. A solid mass of angst rises in the pit of my stomach.
“Momse...” I begin, trying to decide. Should I deny the allegations she’s about to lay against me? Or maybe it would be better to explain. “Let me?—”
She cuts me off. “Stop.” She draws a line in the air with her hand. “Listen to what I’m saying.”
I settle back, looking at her with a blank expression.
“I need you to really take what I’m telling you seriously.” She pauses. “It’s time that you settled on a wife.”
I shake my head. “I don’t?—”
“Stop talking for a moment!” she cries, her hands balling into fists. “You are not listening! We are out of time. Your father is not well. Do you hear me? He’s ill. He may need to be replaced at any time.”
My mouth opens and closes. My eyes are fixed on her small figure. “…what?”
“Your father is ill, Stellan. The doctors aren’t sure what is wrong with him, but he’s been forgetting things for a long time. And then last week he just fainted. We revived him but he had trouble with his vision… He was blind for almost a day.” She draws in a shaky breath. “I learned about it from a phone call. Gorän says it wasn’t a big deal, but I know he is wrong.”
A million questions race around my head, half of which Ida probably doesn’t have the answer to. I try to marshal my thoughts.
“Where is he? When are my parents arriving back home?”
My grandmother looks upset. “Your father is insistent that he and your mother continue on their world tour. I tried every argument I could think of… he will not hear anything different.”
“That’s…” I search for the word. “That’sabsurd. He needs to come home and be checked into the hospital.”
Ida shrugs. “I quite agree. Do you think I would be here with you if I had the option of being by my own son’s bedside? But it’s not in your father’s nature to be told what to do or where to go. That leaves me in the rather precarious position of getting you ready for coronation. And the first step of that process is to find a suitable marriage partner.”
“It’s not like I have to be married,” I fire back.
She glares at me. “It’s what has always been done.”
“So?” I ask, defensive.
I blow out a breath, looking out the window. We’re driving through downtown Copenhagen and many beautiful multicolored building fly past my view. But I can’t even take that in; I’m just floored by my father’s illness and my grandmother’s demands.
“Stellan,” she says sharply. I look at her, trying like all hell to keep my emotions off my face. The last thing I need right now is for all my secrets to come out. And I swear, Ida has a way of just looking at me and knowing what is in my soul.
It’s time to chance the subject.
“I’m worried about father,” I say, hedging a little. Yes, I am worried about him… but there are other things, bigger secrets, that are in the forefront of my mind just now.
