“I don’t know,” I say, unsteady. “I keep having these dreams. Where I lose control. I keep scaring Mads and the guards.”
Stef gives me a sympathetic look. “You keep having the same dream?”
“Something like that.”
“And you always wake up yelling?” he asks, incredulous.
“Yeah, lately,” I confess, embarrassed I keep shouting in my sleep, alarming everyone around me. Where everything’s out of my control again.
“Fuck, Theo. How long’s this been happening?”
“Since… moving back to Copenhagen. It got worse.”
Stef nods slowly, then kisses me. “Everything happened so fast,” he says sympathetically. “It’s a shock. You haven’t really had time to adjust.”
“And Papa’s usually there in my dream, watching, and Mamma too, and things keep going wrong and they’re upset. Because I’ve disappointed them.” I gaze at him. Admitting my fears is like a wound.
Stef draws me into his arms, settling against the headboard.
I swallow hard, shaking my head, leaning into Stef. “It’s silly, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so.” His hand runs along my shoulder comfortingly. “It’s a lot of pressure. You should talk to someone about this. A therapist.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Seriously,” Stef encourages. “It’s important. It’s understandable why you’d have anxiety. But it doesn’t mean you should struggle alone.”
“I suppose you’re right.” With a deep breath, I try to relax into his embrace, pillowing my head against his shoulder. There’s comfort in having him so close. If only it were forever. “And, well, it’s about the time of the first anniversary of my father’s death last year.” Which means it’s almost my birthday too, but I don’t mention it, not wanting Stef to fuss. He’s already got more than a lot on.
“I’m so sorry about your father. I can’t imagine.”
“Just… I know you must leave soon, and it’s late, but don’t go quite yet?” I whisper. I want as much time with him as possible.
“Of course. And really, this is all so much. And I definitely can’t imagine it all at once.”
The truth is, neither can I. Following Papa’s path and the high bar he set isn’t going to be an easy one. He was a well-respected king, practically scandal-free, too, during his reign. And now I’m going to have to level up to not disappoint his memory. Call up the remnants of discipline I had drilled into me from my military service nearly ten years ago. And forget all about being the former disaster prince.
Stef goes out to make us tea. He brings us mugs of tea, and we sit up in bed. Mads has made me tea a couple of times since I’ve come out there when I wake from my nightmares, without being asked. From what I can tell, he has a latent paternal side that comes out in these moments when I’m at my lowest. He’s told me he has two sons around my age. That’s all he’s revealed about his own life to me, and that I remind him a little of his own family.
We soon shift to sleep, and Stef rubs my back to comfort me.
“If only we could be like this forever,” I say sleepily. “Where I’m not King, and we can be together. Just like everyone else.”
“I want that too,” Stef whispers back, giving me a kiss. “To be together.”
Eventually, we drowse again, our limbs entwined, skin to skin. Stef’s still here. With me. Like a dream—but the best kind this time. Even if we’re back to pretending again, only for a night.
“Je t’aime,” I murmur sleepily on his chest. Stef smooths my back once more. “Et je te veux.”
I love you. And I want you.
At last, I fully close my eyes, comforted by Stef’s nearness. Maybe I’m dreaming again, but I swear I hear him whisper, “Je te veux aussi, mon amour,” as I drift off to sleep again.
I want you too, my love.
Chapter Fifty-Five
In the mid-morning, when I wake up again, Stef’s gone. In his absence, I discover a bottle of sunscreen on the bedside table, which is no kind of substitute.
