Freya shook her head and her long curls swung wildly. “Oh, good heavens, no. I was already headed here and offered to relay the message. He was very distracted. Something about your brother.”
Bryn watched Sven’s relaxed posture stiffen in an instant. He looked at her and backed toward the door. “Enjoy your visit. I’ll return as soon as I’m able.”
“You let me know where my wayward son is,” Freya called after him.
He waved as he opened the door. Bryn watched him leave, curious as to why he hadn’t mentioned his brother was actually missing.
“Is everything okay with his brother?” she asked before she thought about it too long.
“I wish I knew.” Freya’s face clouded over. “Erik went on a walkabout two years ago,” she explained. “Basically ran away from home and his duties. We don’t really know much about it, or if Sven does, he hasn’t shared any information. Erik wassupposed to fly in and finally come home and now he’s just missing.”
“That’s why Sven was at the airport,” Bryn mused. She hadn’t put the pieces together before.
“What’s concerning is that obviously the assassin knew that Erik was returning. I don’t know if his target was Sven or Erik. And about that. Thank you for helping my son when he was hit. It scares me to death how close I came to losing him.”
“It’ll take more than an arrow to take him down,” Hilda interjected.
“Not with the poison they’re putting on the arrow that prevents him from–”
“Freya!” Hilda’s voice was sharp and commanding. “Enough of that talk right now while we have a guest.”
“They put poison on the arrow?” Bryn knew she was missing a piece of that puzzle, but now she wondered just how big that piece actually was.
Hilda shot a glare at Freya, who was oblivious. “We don’t know about the poison. They’re trying to analyze it to know how to create an antidote.” She waved her hand. “You know how hunters put toxins on the arrow to assist in the kill. Same thing.”
The explanation seemed a tad too generic, and Bryn couldn’t help but wonder what Freya had been about to say. She refrained from asking because she didn’t want to outstay her welcome by being nosy. She didn’t know either woman well enough to be that bold.
Freya smoothed her hair and sank into a chair. “Sorry. I’m just so distraught. Did you see my son on the plane?” she asked Bryn. “I believe you were both on the same flight.”
“I don’t know,” Bryn answered. “I’m not much of a traveler, especially flying. I worry about my own little bubble.” When Freya drooped in disappointment, she tried to be helpful. “Do you have a picture of Erik?”
Hilda gestured to a side table full of frames, but Freya leaned over and pulled a locket from under her blouse. “Here you go. No need to get up.”
Bryn studied the photographs. Sven smiled for the camera in a regal way, and the other man was more wild, more laid back. She frowned.
“Hey. I think I sat right next to him.” She got out of her chair and walked over to the frames that Hilda had indicated. There was a formal portrait of the two brothers. She picked it up and looked at Erik intently. “His hair was longer, his beard a bit scragglier.” She told them about her seatmate and how she had hoped he missed the last part of his movie. “Once I got off the plane, I have no idea what happened to him. It’s all chaos at that point.”
For several minutes, the puzzle pieces were the focal point of the room as her words were absorbed. Bryn peeked at the other women but was unable to read their expressions. She regretted that she hadn’t forged a relationship with her seatmate, but how was she supposed to know that he was a prince?
Finally, Freya seemed to collect herself enough to paste a smile back on her face. “How do you like our royal existence so far? I hear that you’ve had quite the adventure, good and bad.”
“It has been interesting,” Bryn responded with a grin. “And I have to say. You’re much less…. formal… than I have imagined royals.”
Freya burst out laughing. “We can be formal when we need to be, but for the most part, we try to just stay human.” She paused before she spoke again. “You know. Accessible and part of the community.”
Bryn felt the air shift. It was easier somehow, now that it was just the three of them and she felt like she had been accepted into their inner circle.
“So,” Hilda said with a spark of interest, “tell me more about your family, dear. You mentioned a sister?”
Bryn hesitated. Her family was not the best way to remain in the inner circle. She sucked in a breath and decided to just stick with honest answers. It made for a less confusing future conversation if she had to remember fibs or lapses with the details. “Yes. Randi. She’s my baby sister who I raised, more or less.”
Freya’s brows lifted. “More or less?”
“My parents were…” Bryn searched for the right words, her throat tightening. “Busy. Their careers came first. Everything else, including me, Randi, and general home life, was secondary. So it was me packing lunches, fixing broken things, me…” She shook her head, forcing a small laugh. “Being a mother, in every way but procreation. I often wondered how they found time to be together long enough to create a baby, let alone two.”
Hilda’s sharp eyes softened. “That is a heavy burden for young shoulders.”
“It was,” Bryn admitted. “But Randi was worth it, even if we did have our battles. She’s brilliant. She’s at college now.”
