haven't eaten all day. Let me make you a sandwich or something, at least."
My eyebrows raise. Lured by her offer and no little amount of curiosity, I step inside and close the doors behind me. The walls of the loft are all glass. Everything inside is sleek and light colored and modern. The overlarge living room area that is to my left, the dining room table set up to my right, and straight ahead is a truly luxurious kitchen that any chef would die to have.
I follow Annika toward it, noting the stainless steel appliances and the huge marble island. She walks to the refrigerator and opens it, biting her lip as she frowns at the contents.
"Oh, I thought… I assumed that there would be… like sandwich things or something." She flushes, looking up at me. "It looks like we are out of luck unless we want some expensive wine and cheese."
I exaggerate my eye roll for her benefit. "Move over, Princess. I’ll make something very simple for us. You need to eat as much as I do."
I catch a tiny frown on her face, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. She relinquishes her space at the fridge. I quickly assemble a platter of the expensive cheeses, bread, sliced fruits, and cucumbers. I add a couple glasses of sparkling wine, sliding it all onto the marble countertop.
Nika cants her head at me. "We should eat in the living room. Come on."
She picks up the platter of food and her champagne flute and makes her way to the living room. I snag the bowl of bread and my own drink, following her. I would never think to eat on the expensive looking white fabric couches that line the corner of the penthouse. But Princess Annika does it without thinking about it. She and I are just fundamentally different, I suppose.
She throws herself down on the couch, putting the wooden platter of food down beside herself. I take my own seat on the other side of her with more caution, settling the bread down between us. She glances at me, tucking her fair hair back behind her shoulder. She raises her glass, biting her lip.
"Is it tacky to toast right now?” That same little frown appears on her face.
I shake my head. "I don't think so, no. Cheers."
We clink our classes together and then I lift my flute to my lips, taking a long pull of the wine. It's extremely sweet but there is a certain satisfaction that I feel, a poor man toasting with the most expensive champagne in all of Denmark. That's nothing to sneeze at.
I sip my wine and look out at the dark landscape of Copenhagen. There are a million thoughts playing over and over again.
How my father is a bastard.
How I feel like I've done something to let him down, even though a part of me knows that that's not the truth.
How I'm sitting in this penthouse, surrounded by all of this obscene wealth and yet I know that none of it is mine.
So, I brood. I drink my champagne and nibble on a piece of cheese. And I think over all the things that have been bothering me ever since I got the fateful call this morning.
Nika sets her glass down and looks at me carefully. "I can see that you have a lot of things on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?"
I squint at her, finishing the last of my wine before setting my glass aside. "You don't really want to hear it. It's all just noise."
She bites her lip, a wrinkle appearing in her brow. "Yes, I do. I want to hear whatever you are thinking."
I arch my eyebrows at her and tilt my head. "Really?"
She rolls her eyes at me. "Yes, really. I'm here for you. I'm listening."
She adjusts her position on the couch, pulling her short white skirt down an inch and looking at me quite seriously. I shrug my shoulders, looking away over her shoulder at the darkened city skyline.
"I don't know. I was just thinking that…" I pause, trying to think of how to word what I am feeling. "I know that this emergency isn't about me. But I'm just so mad at my father. He is such a bastard. Of course he doesn't want the nurses fussing over him. He just wants… He just wants to go back to his little cottage and drink himself to death."
Nika frowns. "That has to be frustrating. It's