Page 68 of The Broken Dawn

Something tight in Hal's chest finally loosened. He leaned into Jakob, letting their foreheads rest together again. "I love you," he whispered, the words still new enough to make his heart race. "And I'm terrified of losing you. To Christian's schemes, to my mother's disapproval, to your mama's very reasonable concerns..."

"Hey." Jakob's fingers tightened on his shoulders. "What did I just say about not leaving?"

"I heard you." Hal managed a shaky smile. "I just... sometimes I need to hear it again."

"Then I'll keep saying it." Jakob pressed a soft kiss to his temple. "I love you too. And I'm not leaving. Not for anything." He picked up the fallen grenade, turning it over in his hands. "Now, about Riddarhuset. I assume you have some thoughts?"

Hal straightened, watching as Jakob resumed his methodical inventory. The familiar challenge of tactical planning helped clear his head. "Several, actually. First—when does your mother have to leave her position?"

"End of the month," Jakob said, his jaw tight. He pulled the pin from the practice grenade, held it for a moment, then slid it back in with a decisive click. "The Commandant was apologetic, but firm. Said the Board of Governors had already made their decision."

"And what were you thinking of doing?" Hal asked, his tactical mind already working.

"I thought maybe the army?" Jakob said, setting the grenade in the crate with mathematical precision. "Regular enlistment, rather than an officer's commission. It's not what I wanted, but it's something."

Hal's eyes lit up. "The crown expects me to serve in one of the Royal regiments anyway - that's why I'm here. Well, that and to keep me sensibly and appropriately occupied while Freddie gets married and starts having children to push me further down the succession."

Jakob pulled back slightly, studying Hal's face. "What are you suggesting?"

"If you can't finish at Riddarhuset, I won't either. We enlist together." Hal's voice grew stronger as the plan took shape. "The Svea Artillery Regiment would be the obvious choice - they're stationed near enough to Stockholm that I could still attend formal functions when needed, but far enough away to give us some breathing room."

"You've thought about this before," Jakob said softly, abandoning the grenades to give Hal his full attention.

Hal's cheeks colored slightly. "I might have... considered some options for the future. For once Freddie is a father and no one cares what I do anymore. I never thought I'd need them this soon, but⁠—"

"But circumstances are forcing our hand." Jakob's fingers traced absently over a grenade's safety lever. "Without Mama working here, I can't stay at the academy anyway. And with the situation in Europe..."

"We'd be doing our patriotic duty," Hal finished. "My mother could hardly object to that."

"The artillery would suit us both," Jakob mused, his tactical mind clearly engaging with the idea. "Your understanding of men and my practical experience with machinery... we'd be good at it."

"And it's respectable enough that even my mother couldn't complain. Not with the Germans modernizing their own artillery corps." Hal's fingers drummed against the table. "The real question is timing. If we move too quickly, it looks like we're running."

"If we're too slow, I'll have to leave anyway," Jakob reminded him, absently pulling and replacing a grenade pin with rhythmic clicks. "And with Christian gone, your mother might start wondering why I was such a concern to him in the first place."

"You're right," Hal said, sudden worry creasing his brow. "Christian might be in disgrace, but he still has my mother's ear. He could still tell her about us."

"All the more reason not to delay," Jakob said, setting the grenade down with finality. "We need to make this look like our choice, not a reaction."

"If we do this right, we can make it look like a natural progression," Hal said, a slight smile curving his lips. "The spare prince, inspired by the situation in Europe, choosing to serve in a front-line regiment instead of taking a ceremonial post..."

"And his close friend from the academy, following the same calling." Jakob nodded slowly. "It's not even a lie, really. Just... a very economical truth."

"And think about it," Hal said, his voice softening. "We'd be assigned quarters in the barracks. Not much privacy, but we'd see each other every day. I would fall asleep every night knowing that you are right there, within my reach. No more sneaking around the academy or waiting for farm chores as an excuse to see one another."

Jakob pulled Hal closer, letting himself imagine it. "You'd be terrible at barracks life. You can barely boil water without setting something on fire."

"That's what I'd have you for." Hal's smile grew dreamy. "And after, when we're done in the army... I have this townhouse in Södermalm. Great-Uncle Eugene left it to me - Mother was furious because she'd wanted it for some duchess or other. But it's mine." His fingers traced the muscles of Jakob's shoulder. "It needs to be cleaned, furnished, painted… but it's big enough that Rachel could have her own rooms. You could teach me to cook, or at least try to..."

"You're hopeless in the kitchen," Jakob murmured against Hal's hair. "But I like the idea. Rachel would love Södermalm - all those artists and writers. And you'd look so handsome in your artillery officer's uniform, coming home in the evenings..."

"Coming home to you." Hal's voice caught slightly. "Both of us doing something that matters, serving Sweden our own way. Not just being the spare prince and the charity case anymore."

"Exactly," Jakob agreed, his hand closing around one of the practice grenades. "We serve. We stay together. We survive."

In the back of his mind, Hal knew his mother would never allow it to be this simple. But with Jakob's warmth against him and the future they were building with words, he couldn't bring himself to voice his doubts. Not tonight. Tonight, he would let himself believe.

November 17, 1939