don’t think that I left it up to you, princess.”
My eyes widen. I’m pretty tall for a girl, almost five foot eight. But he dwarfs my size, his muscular body much more immense than mine could ever be. It’s kind of nice to feel like the fragile one for just a second, even though I’m definitely playing with fire.
My heart starts pounding. If Erik could wound me with those fiery eyes of his, I’d be skewered through.
When I finally find the words, they leave me in a mere whisper. “Now who’s the killer of joy?”
He snorts angrily, turning and storming off. I am left with a frantically beating heart and trembling hands. A few moments later Kalindi returns, looking over her shoulder.
“The bathroom line is so long that I can’t stand in it anymore.” She looks back, then senses my mood. “What? Did I miss something?”
My lips twist sourly. “Not really, no. You just missed The Ghost of Christmas Past, stirring up trouble.”
Kalindi looks puzzled. “I’m sorry, what?”
I pull a face. “I’m talking about Erik.”
“Erik… Erik Moen?”
“The very one.”
Kalindi cocks her head. “Why isn’t he in bed already?”
I burst out laughing. “I said as much to him and he did not take it very well.”
She shrugs. “He is tall and blond and unbelievably handsome… but he has a steel beam lodged up his you know what.”
I grin, rolling my eyes. “Kalindi, you are old enough to say ass.”
I hear a shrill scream from a nearby room. Everybody seems to freeze up, turning toward the sound. Then a loud male voice booms out.
“Politibetjente!”
“Shit,” I mutter. I’m drunk, too drunk to deal with any police.
Without really thinking it through, I grab Kalindi’s hand and start running. Everybody else has the same idea, running out of the house and into the manicured back yard.
What I did not anticipate was the flash of cameras as soon as I step out onto the lawn. I’m blind for a moment as I throw up an arm to guard my eyes.
“What the fuck?” I say, blinking rapidly. When I can see again, I see several paparazzi there about twenty yards away, going crazy taking pictures of me while I’m disoriented. “Fuck!” I shout, trying to shield my face from the paparazzi as best as I can. Kalindi is right there, shielding my face from their view with her tweed jacket.
“Come on,” she cries, tugging me toward the front yard. “Let’s get out of here.”
We run across the spongey green grass to the smoothly paved driveway. My mind is all over the place, mostly focusing on what just happened.
I don’t see any police cars… which means that this was just a paparazzi ploy.
Oh, god. They must have gotten some good pictures of me, standing there with my mouth hanging open, looking totally dazed.
As we climb into the first car we see, I sink down in my seat. Because already, I can hear Stellan’s voice.
Can you just cool it until the wedding?
I close my eyes. “Take me to the palace, please.”
Back to my upcoming punishment…
3
Erik
My office is a cramped space in the basement of Amalienborg palace. It’s really confined, the space no bigger than one of Stellan’s walk-in closets.
Not that I’m exactly jealous of my best friend, the King of Denmark. He has some big fish to fry, especially with his upcoming nuptials to his American journalist Margot.
But my office is really rather ridiculous. It’s musty. It’s dark. It’s always freezing. It’s only large enough to hold a desk and three chairs. It has a single window placed far above my head through which sunlight only streams in during the earliest hours of the day.
It’s a little depressing, frankly.
I’m rarely in it anyway, preferring to always be on the go. But just now, it serves its purpose. It is cool and quiet, exactly what I need today.
My head pounds. Why did I drink so much last night?
I stretch out and kick my feet up on my desk, upset that I still have to wear my suit. Stellan is still in bed with Margot, but me… I am working.
I am always working. I squint and then unbutton the top button of my shirt. Loosening my tie a little bit brings an unimaginable kind of relief.
I think it also summons her.
When the Queen Mother sweeps into the drab little room that I call an office, I shoot to my feet and shut down my iPad screen. I’m still extremely hungover and trying to cover it up with an astounding volume of