on the other end of the line not to worry about it.
As she hangs up, I swallow nervously. There's no way of knowing whether she's serious or not about killing the girl. There's no honest way of telling whether or not Stella is in fact my sister. But one thing is very clear to me: it's obvious that I am bringing danger and pain into Lars's world by continuing to pretend to be his fiancée.
So, Ms. Olson says, folding her arms across her chest. “Do we have an understanding then?”
I nod. I would've said just about anything to get her to call off her dogs. And knowing that, I realize what must be done.
I have to break up with Lars. I can't risk being an enemy to him while I was supposed to be engages to him. I would never put him in any peril. And I fear that by remaining his fiancée, I'm putting him in danger.
So I have to break off the engagement. And the sooner it's done, the better.
That realization makes my eyes well up with tears. My heart breaks, thinking about the conversation that I'm going to have to have with Lars.
He is my heart, love of my life, but in the grand scheme of things I would rather know that he is safe then to risk putting him in danger over and over again just him with my presence.
Mrs. Olson looks pleased with herself. “Well then, “she says. “I've already made an appointment for you with the royal tailor. He will fit the royal wedding dress on you. And don't feel the need to respond to any wedding planning invitations, because everything has already been dealt with. There will be no detail left unattended.”
I nod a bit glumly. Mrs. Olson looks satisfied with herself and picks up the phone, putting it in her pocket. Under normal circumstances, I would ask her more questions about where my sister was and what she intended to do with her. But today, I don't.
If she finds the lack of questions unusual, she doesn't say anything about it. In the back of my mind, I am trying to figure out what the best plan to save Stella would be.
“Sylvie?” I look up, wiping at my eyes.
She starts walking towards his door, smiling her particular little smile. “I think you will see that you made the right choice. I think you will be satisfied. After all, isn't it every little girl's fantasy to marry a real life prince?”
I don't say a word. I just cross my arms across my chest and look at her blankly. She smiles at me, gives me a head to toe glance, and then shrugs. “I'm sure we'll see each other soon,” she tosses over her shoulder as she heads out of the room.
After she's gone, I sit and stare off into space. I don't know how I will find the strength to do this. But I'm going to have to break up with him, no matter how much it tears my heart into pieces. Worse than that, I know that my secret, the one held closest to my heart for so many years, is going to get out one way or the other. I have a choice I suppose.
I can take my story to a newspaper and hope that they don't sensationalize who I am and what my father did. Or I can wait until someone else slips the paper this information.
God, if I could do everything all over again, I would tell Lars the whole and unvarnished truth on the day that we met. It might've changed the course of our friendship… But I wouldn't be staring down the barrel of this terrible decision right now.
It occurs to me that maybe Lars won't care about who I used to be. It's possible. But if I tell him, layout the whole tragic truth, there is always the possibility that he won't understand.
In any event, I will have to break off our engagement. No way will the royal palace let him marry someone who has lied about who she was for so many years. The daughter of an anti-monarchist terrorist?
Ja, I'm definitely not going to be welcome at any kind of family event.
I hear Lars in the hall and I suck in a breath. Do I have to do it right now?
On the other hand, can I stand to wait?
When Lars finally comes around the corner from the hallway, I can see the sadness written all over