“How, exactly, are you going to serve the Danes from America?”
“It’s not like it’s another planet. I’ll still be around occasionally.”
“You could be on the moon, as far as I’m concerned,” I complain vigorously. The way she talks about me becoming King is like it’s an easy favor, like I’m spotting her some cash in the bar rather than my whole life. Freja’s my big sister—my only sister—and I’ve always looked up to her, and this whole situation is messing with my head. Plus, our relationship. I suck back air. “And, importantly, not the Queen. Are you sure you don’t want to continue on as Queen? I mean, the coronation celebration is this summer. If… are you cancelling it?” I ask her incredulously and continue on before she has a chance to answer. “You can’t. And I’m not standing in your place. Think of what Papa would have wanted.”
“You’re not abdicating too,” she says flatly.
I lean back in my chair and frown. “As if you’re the only one who has rights to abdication. Besides, I thought we went over this, and you said I could abdicate, and Lars can march right up to the throne and?—”
“Theo, please.”
“How am I the unreasonable one in this situation?”
She gives me a level look that reminds me of growing up together. Freja’s six years older than me and sometimes more like another parent than a partner in crime. Which also means she has six more years of preparing to live a royal life in the public eye.
“Just… try? I can give you a little more time, but I’m not changing my mind.” Freja’s voice wavers. “Please, Theo.”
“Freja…”
“Please,” she repeats again, her voice barely audible. “I truly need your help.”
“Fuck. Okay, fine. I’ll… I’ll try to make this situation better. This week. And, by the way, I definitely didn’t make this specific mess. But—don’t abdicate anytime soon, that’s all I ask. I need more time, okay? Warn me before you do. Like, lots of warning.”
And maybe she’ll divorce or annul her marriage, or maybe it’ll be waived due to temporary insanity.
“Of course I will.” She tilts her head, her expression softening. “Thanks. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I sigh. “We’ll talk soon.”
After we hang up, I fold my arms on the table and put my head down on them. I don’t know how I can face any of this alone. And leave the life I’ve built—maybe it’s not remarkable, but it’s mine—behind.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Between a client appointment and a meeting with Ethan, I message Mamma I’m coming home to Copenhagen on Friday for the weekend. I ask her to help me arrange a press conference with the support of our communications team on Saturday morning.
Coming home for a few days is a good idea. I don’t know about the press conference idea, darling.
I won’t do anything scandalous. I promise x
I book my flight to depart from Heathrow, and I immediately start to pack my suitcase, trying to decide which of my suits is the most respectable and media-friendly option. After some deliberation, I make my choice from a Danish designer and pack it with care. I’ve got to take charge of this situation with my reputation, because sitting on the sidelines hasn’t helped at all. Aside from James’ lead, that is. Meanwhile, Aidan just continues with his nonsense, and the yacht story has legs, as they say. Everything feels terrible right now.
When I’m waiting to board my flight late on Friday afternoon, the all-news channel in the private departure lounge shows endless top news stories with closed captioning. The last story I want to see is about the yacht affair. Well, the story’s indirectly about the yacht. There’s a brief moment where they discuss the recovery of the yacht. But more than anything else, the news story is more of an interview with Prince Stefanos and his father, Prince Stavros, about the black-tie fundraising event they’re attending in Athens for a museum. And I can’t help but thirst over Stefanos in a tux.
This is temporary lust, I tell myself sternly. Get it together.
Unfortunately, I’m called to board before Stefanos speaks. With great reluctance, I’m forced to drag myself away to the gate before I miss my flight. Something heavy settles in my chest. I’m ushered onto my flight, and I pull on my over-ear headphones, blocking the world out, including yachts, handsome princes, and dastardly exes.
A stray thought creeps in despite my efforts to drown them out with music.
It’s just as well. Stef’s off living his life, as well he should, far from me. And I’m off living mine.
By the time I reach the royal residence, I feel a million years old. I get warm greetings from everyone, familiar staff and assistants who are happy to see me back. I beeline for my rooms. After freshening up, I go to Mamma’s study and knock on the door.
“Come in,” she calls.
I open the door and give her a big smile as she rises from her desk to squeeze me tightly. “Theo,” she says affectionately. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been too long since you’ve been home again.”
“Sorry, Mamma. I should’ve visited you sooner.”
