break apart with a laugh, but my gaze never leaves Margot's face.
"I love you, wife. Never forget that."
Margot gives the puppy her hand to lick, grinning at me. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world, Stellan. I love you more than I can say."
A fresh batch of tears shines in her eyes. I smile and slip an arm around her waist, content.
Chapter Four
Climbing the steps that lead to the second floor of the palace, I feel more tired than I can ever remember feeling. Pippa is right behind me, climbing stairs elegantly as always. I make it to the landing and push myself onward, casting a glance at her. She looks absolutely amazing, from her elegant red tresses that flow down her back to her white haute couture down. Head to toe, Pippa always looks absolutely impeccable.
I feel as if I’ve been wrung out to dry even though I'm also wearing a frilly pink designer gown. Even under normal circumstances, I can't compete with gorgeous, glowing Pippa. I heave a sigh. Her brow hunches a little as she looks me up and down. When she speaks, it's with a posh English accent.
"And what's the matter with you?"
We walk down the hallway towards my chambers. I draw myself up and sigh. "It just seemed like that gala we were at was going to go on forever. No one told me that being Queen meant an endless number of galas." I roll my eyes, emphasizing that what I'm saying is silly.
Pippa smiles. "I imagine that you are pretty ready to take those heels off. I noticed that you have made more of an effort to wear high heels recently."
I finally reach the doorway to my chambers and push it open, running inside and kicking my shoes off. I sigh with relief and stretch my arms up over my head. "God, yes. I'm trying to be more royal. But a lifetime of wearing Converse hasn't properly prepared me for such fancy footwear. Not to mention, I've been feeling run down for like two weeks. I'm so tired that I might go to bed before ten p.m. tonight." I wrinkle my nose. "Is it ten yet?"
Pippa arches a brow. "It's only eight p.m. It just seems later because the sun goes down by four. That's Denmark in December for you…" She passes a glance around the living area and then heads over to one of the herringbone-covered couches, collapsing on it and pulling off her shoes.
I reach behind myself and find my zipper at the very top of my shoulders, then pull it down. I sigh as a great deal of pressure is released from my rib cage. When I look up, I see Pippa arching a brow at me again.
"What?" I ask.
I shimmy out of the fancy dress, leaving me only in a white shift. I don't feel at all self-conscious in front of Pippa, who was my first college roommate and has been a longtime friend.
Pippa is the reason that I'm the Queen of Denmark, essentially. She introduced Stellan and I at a sketchy club in New York… And the rest is history, I guess.
Pippa's lips twitch. "Nothing. I'm just getting used to seeing you as the Queen of Denmark and then seeing you… Well, as yourself. Two different people, that's all."
I carefully hang my dress over the back of a chair and then join her on the couch. "It's taking some getting used to from my side, too. Believe me."
She scrunches up her nose and sighs. "I don't suppose you want to drink, do you?"
I pull a face. "No, not really. I just have been feeling like I’ve had the flu for a couple of weeks. Well… not the flu exactly? It's like the flu except that I have no respiratory symptoms. What is that, you think?"
Pippa purses her lips. "Have your breasts been tender?"
I give her an odd look. "What? Why?"
She holds up her hand, ticking things off as she makes a list. "You've been feeling really run down. You want to sleep all the time. You have an aversion to alcohol…"
I interrupt. "I wouldn't say that. I don't have an aversion. I just am too tired to drink. I think it's just being on royal duty all the time."
She sits up, eyeing me. "Or you could be pregnant."
I freeze. Scowling at her, I shake my head a little. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just a little cold or something. You know, the cold without the sneezing and coughing or being