They’re all watching us, and they’relovingwhat Astrid’s doing.
I need to do this. I need to let go.
Tentatively, I move my feet a little and wiggle my body. I probably look completely foolish, but I’m doing my best. Surely that’s the point.
“You’re doing it, Fred!” Astrid encourages. “Now loosen up those shoulders!”
I obey, wiggling my shoulders from side to side. It feels absurd, and yet somehow not absurd at the same time. Somehow, it feels rather wonderful.
I watch how the other men move. They’re more grounded and solid than Astrid, but still with a surprising amount of fluidity. I do my best to mimic them, hoping I look more John Travolta at the Whitehouse than Prince Charles dancing with tribesmen in the ’70s.
“You’re doing great!” Astrid beams at me, and I actually believe her. I may not be a born dancer, but this? It’s easy. Freeing, even.
Before long, I’m the one doing the spinning, twirling Astrid around and catching her in my arms. The crowd cheers us on, swept up in the town's festival atmosphere, and I find I’m actually enjoying myself, being here in this picturesque town, far away from the palace, with the woman who fills my heart and mind
Then the song changes to something slow and melodic, the kind of song that belongs in an American high-school dance movie. Around us, couples draw closer, drifting intoone another’s arms, gazing into each other’s eyes, swaying gently in the warm evening air.
Just like in those movies, I stand and stare at Astrid, awkward, my heart thundering in my chest. She’s watching me, the look on her face telling me to do something.
So I do just that.
I take her hands and draw her toward me. Her mouth forms a surprised little “O”, her eyes widening before they soften into the sweetest smile. She steps closer, trusting me, and I place my hands gently around her waist, holding her carefully against me. We’re so close, she must be able to feel the thudding of my heart, and I can’t help but breathe in her scent, and get lost in the deep blue pools of her eyes.
Surely she must know by now how she makes me feel? How being around her is changing me for the better. How being around her makes me want to loosen up, to allow myself to have fun, to live life, even in just a small way.
For a moment, the bunting, the flags, the festival crowd, the music, all of it fades. It’s just us. Just Astrid and me.
“You're good at this,” she murmurs in my ear, her breath warm on my neck.
“At what? Swaying to music?”
“Slow dancing with princesses.”
She's teasing me, and I like it.
I tighten my grip a little around her waist, and it takes her by surprise. “I didn't think our first dance would be at a town festival, but I'm enjoying myself.”
“Astrid, you're—” I break off. There’s so much I want to say, but I have no idea if she reciprocates my feelings. The last thing I want to do is confess and for her to laugh her pretty laugh and remind me this is a business deal.
Even though that sounds more like my style than hers. Without the laugh, of course.
“You're good for me,” I say finally.
Her big eyes grow even bigger. “I am?”
“Yes. Your zest for life is infectious.”
Her lips quirk. “Only you could make a compliment sound like I'm some sort of a disease, Fred.”
Stung, I pull back. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. That wasn’t my intention at all.”
She steps back into my arms and instantly I feel the warmth of her body against mine. “You didn't offend me, Fred. I rather like that you think I'm good for you, even if apparently I'm some sort of infection.”
I smile at her, and she beams back up at me, and I can't imagine a better ending to our day. Her and I, dancing at a town festival, surrounded by onlookers, the flags of our respective countries hanging overhead.
We might not be a real couple yet. This might be a business arrangement between our two countries. But right now, it feels like we could at least be friends, even if I’m beginning to admit to myself that I want so much more from her. Something I know I should not dare to want.
Chapter Fifteen
