The man, whose favourite pastime used to be spending sixteen hours a day tromping through the forest with an axe slung over his shoulder, turns to mush when his little girl calls him Daddy.
It’s… sweet. And slightly terrifying.
“Magnus,” Hettie decides. “I can manage that. We’ll work on the Dad.”
“Let’s get back, see what the little terror did tonight.”
While it is possible Tema could get away with literal murder at the castle, the little girl is still a treat, and thankfully, hasn’t shown the signs of becoming the stereotypical spoiled brat.
There’s a lot of talk about if Tema will take after Lyra in that matter, just because Tema physically resembles her aunt at that age.
Lyra was a lot of things, but I never considered her to be a brat. She was impulsive, often demanding and definitely liked getting her own way, but she was never a brat to me.
She was a lot of things to me, but not that.
I tell myself that it’s the talk of Tema that has me sliding into thoughts of Lyra. Because of the similarities of the princesses, not the fact there’s been radio silence from Lyra for the last three weeks, which is worrying. It could mean a lot of things, though:
She could be off on an African safari without cell service. She could be holed up in a hotel in Paris, working as a muse for some fashion designer, or following Sabrina Carpenter’s latest tour, hobnobbing with her celebrity friends all night, and sleeping all day.
Or she could have run off with some man nobody would approve of and who only wants to use her for his fifteen minutes of fame, and she’s afraid to tell me.
Tellus,not just me. Tell the family.
When it comes to Lyra, it could be any of those things, and more.
Contact with her brothers has always been infrequent, but it’s constant with me, texting me daily or sending me silly reels or pictures. But that’s stopped since…
Since Abigail.
I tell myself I don’t miss getting sixteen pictures of shoes and demands to tell her which one is my favourite. I’m worried because not hearing from Lyra might mean she’s about to show up on the cover of a magazine with a story about how she came between Tom Holland and Zendaya. Or have drunken pictures of her splashed over the internet. Or reports that she hosted a party that took over a high-end Toronto restaurant and caused the place to get slapped with a health warning because someone lured a raccoon into the party.
That actually happened last year. And I was sent to clean up the mess—not from the raccoon, but the media mess about how Princess Lyra of Laandia is a demanding diva whose rebellious and irresponsible behaviour made the Canadian government rethink giving Laandia their autonomy, as well as fishing rights.
I cleaned it all up.
My official job title is “lawyer”, but I’m more like a fixer for the family. I deal with little things—Kalle’s alcohol permit for his bar, Odin’s proposal for his Viking restoration site—and big things, like Bo’s secret wedding. Ever since my father brought meto live in the castle, I’ve been made to feel like part of the family. Still, I manage to be objective enough to see the big picture, make the tough decisions. My loyalty to them has no bounds—not just because they are the royal family, but because they’re my family.
But not really.
I fix things for the family, and I do a very good job of it. And Lyra is always giving me a new challenge.
I really should track her down to make sure things aren’t about to spiral out of control. “Can I get a ride back to the castle with you?” I ask Bo suddenly. I have a suite of rooms in the castle, but I divide my time between there and my apartment in town.
“You’re not—” Abigail checks herself but I can see the flash of disappointment. “Oh.”
Did I make plans with her? I don’t think I saw that in my schedule. “I’ve got an early meeting with the finance minister in the morning,” I tell her. “It’s easier to stay there tonight.”
“Okay. Sure.”
I notice Hettie watching us. I’m sure this will be part of their next discussion. I lower my voice. “Are you okay with that?”
“I just thought… It’s fine.”
I’ve dated. I’ve had relationships. But none of them has ever felt serious. None of them has ever felt like my future is there, waiting for me to grab it.
I’ve never fully committed to a woman like Bo has done with Hettie. Like Gunnar has with my sister. Something has always held me back, and I’ve never really explored what that is.
Abigail deserves someone to be committed. She deserves someone as invested as she is. And I’m…
