sometimes he couldn’t help wondering just how badly he’d mucked it up given that he’d had no clue what he’d been doing and, honestly, some days thought he still didn’t.
Case in point: maybe if he’d done a better job, Oliver wouldn’t feel the need to insert so much profanity into every conversation. Not that Edvin was a prude or anything, but given what a beast even the simplest words could be for him at times, hearing his brother so casually pepper his conversation with colorful words just felt… sloppy.
A commotion near the entrance drew Edvin’s attention… and everyone else’s.
“It’s Prince Leopold,” he told Oliver, finally remembering to answer his brother’s question. No need, though, since Oliver gasped and clutched at Edvin’s arm, repeating the same thing but with a swoon thrown in for good measure.
“Oh my God, it’s Leopold.” Oliver fanned himself dramatically, because he was ridiculous.
Edvin’s lips twitched. His brother was outgoing and vivacious, the opposite of Edvin in every way, and Edvin loved that about him.
“I won’t even complain about us getting the straight prince,” Oliver gushed. “Because hello, eye candy! I can’t believe he’s here in the flesh! And… oh my God, Edvin, look! He’s stopped to talk to Linnea.”
Edvin stiffened, all his Hans-angst forgotten as he went up on his toes to try to see over the crowd. Every single one of his protective big-brotherly instincts roared to life when he saw that Oliver was right. Linnea was only nineteen, and Crown Prince Leopold had a reputation. He was too old for her, too wild, and—based on every media report since the dawn of ever—far too charming to be chatting her up. Edvin knew firsthand how it felt to fall for someone so out of his league. There was no way he was going to let Linnea go through that.
He shook Oliver’s hand off his arm and charged through the crowd.
“Slow down there, Vinnie,” Hans said, his eyes sharpening with interest as Edvin brushed past him. “What’s the—oh. Hello. It looks like our guest of honor has arrived.”
Hans fell into step behind Edvin, but for once, Edvin barely noticed. He wasn’t normally an overly assertive person, but he pushed right through the throng of people surrounding the prince—the prince and Linnea—and inserted himself between them just as Leopold turned an unfairly charming smile on her, reaching for her hand.
He tagged Edvin in the stomach instead.
“Oof,” said Edvin, doubling over. It hadn’t been a very hard hit, but between the angle and Edvin’s forward momentum and the fact that Edvin’s abs were a bit non-existent—not that he was soft, exactly, but working as a librarian also didn’t lend itself to staying all that fit—it had caught him off guard. And… and oh Lord. Everyone was looking at him now, including a big, intimidating-looking man next to the prince who was probably a bodyguard.
“Ah… s-s-sorry?” Edvin said before he remembered that he actually wasn’t.
He’d come to protect Linnea.
He straightened up, staring down the bodyguard even though he had to look up to do it, way up, and was actually feeling a little wobbly all of a sudden. He definitely wasn’t used to being the center of so much attention, and his face was positively flaming with heat, but still. Linnea needed him.
“No, it was my fault,” Prince Leopold said with his trademark cocky grin, holding up a hand when the bodyguard made a move toward Edvin. The prince reached for Edvin himself, steadying him. And more proof of life’s unfairness? He looked ridiculously handsome up close, especially dressed in an actual suit instead of one of those edgy, bad boy, sex-on-a-stick outfits he was always photographed wearing in the tabloids.
Not that those weren’t incredibly hot, too.
Not that Edvin looked.
Okay, he looked. It didn’t hurt anything, did it? He’d like to respect the royals’ privacy in theory, but the pictures were already out there, so…
He cleared his throat. The point was that here, in person, the whole package was… distracting.
Leopold winked at him, his hand still wrapped around Edvin’s bicep. “Eager to say hello, were you? Big literacy fan?”
Edvin was a big fan of literacy, actually, but that was beside the point. Also beside the point? The fact that the prince smelled delicious and that his grip inexplicably made Edvin feel like he was standing on solid ground for the first time in five years.
He blinked, pulling himself together. A member of the royal family had asked him a question. And sure, Prince Leopold had obviously been teasing, but