“I really fucking love you,” I tell her.
She grabs my hand, pulling it over her heart. “I love you too. I always will.”
Giving her a kiss, I reluctantly let her go and rise from the couch. “I’m going to go see my father.”
She gives me a small smile. “I’ll be here, waiting for you when you get back.”
With a heavy heart, I turn and start moving away. When I step into the hallway, three suited guards turn to look at me.
“Prime Ministerr,” I say, nodding to them. “Lad os gå.”
I head down the hall, feeling my invisible golden collar tighten just that much more.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Margot
Istand in the darkness, silhouetted by the enormous palace windows, just staring out into the moonlit night. I’m wearing a beautiful light gray ballgown but my shoes are abandoned by the door of the living room. I press my hands to my face, feeling the heat that rushed to my cheeks a few minutes ago.
I snuck away from the rest of the dinner party and ran up here as soon as I could. That’s only after I made a complete fool of myself by talking over Stellan, though.
It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to me. It’s just a normal part of the conversational flow, at least in America. But apparently it was enough to stop every other conversation and draw all eyes my way.
My cheeks still burn just thinking about it.
“Haj.”
I turn a little, seeing Stellan standing there, filling up the doorframe. His face is mostly in shadow but I would recognize his tall frame anywhere. My mouth turns up at the corners.
“Think his name and he shall appear.”
Stellan moves forward, his face emerging from the shadows. “I noticed that you were gone and I came to check on you.”
I walk across the room to the couches, falling onto one of them. Keeping my tone light, I look at him as he walks over. “You found me. Hiding upstairs from my own shame.”
His lips twitch. “It wasn’t that bad.”
I roll my eyes. “Everyone at the dinner thought I was raised in a barn.”
He gives me a funny look as he sits across from me. “What?”
“They thought I was lacking in manners.”
“Ah! I wouldn’t worry about what they think, honestly.” He sits back, steeling his fingers.
“Well, I am worried. I’m worried from the second I wake up until the second I’m asleep. I don’t want to embarrass myself… but more importantly, I don’t want to embarrass you.”
Stellan shrugs a shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
I squint off toward the window. “I wasn’t cut out for this… this caring about what everyone thinks. I just want to be able to wear my ratty old t-shirts and listen to my loud punk music and walk around taking photos. I don’t want everyone else’s opinions about how I walk funny and who I should be associating with.”
I stick out my tongue to make a disgusted face. My expectation is that he will laugh, or make some funny remark. But to my surprise he leans forward, his face looking serious as the original sin.
“Margot. If you don’t want this lifestyle, please tell me right now. There is still time to turn the car around.”
My eyes widen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complain…”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m serious. Can you be a royal? Can you deal with the invasion of privacy and the world judging your every move?” He stops, then exhales a long breath. “I know it isn’t very romantic to have this conversation. But I really need you to think about your answer. You’d have to give up any kind of job. You’d have to put down roots here. I will move heaven and earth to make you my wife… but you have to meet me halfway.”
