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CHAPTER THREE
Home from graduate school for the winter break, Tor watched his family opening Christmas gifts, a smile fixed on his face.
Janne was giving his brother Holger doe eyes over her gift. Their father was smiling and exclaiming over the contract Geir had had framed for him. Tor thought it must be one of the early contracts his ancestors had signed when establishing their sovereign monarchy and creating a business consortium to finance it.
Geir had enlisted Tor's help over the summer to do some searching in the oldest archives from when the archipelago kingdom was first created.
Though the details of what it was weren't that important. The fact his family was happy and together, that was what mattered.
It was all he'd wanted as a child. It was all he wanted now, though he'd never be so naff as to say so out loud.
His own Christmas gifts were few but thoughtful. Even so they showed very little understanding of the man he had become and more familiarity of the boy he had once been.
Nevertheless, his thanks were genuine.
He noticed that his father had gotten a rather personal gift for Janne's mother, Lady Ingrid.
She blushed when opening it, though the painting by her favorite artist was in no way inappropriate.
Which meant what?
The feelings behind the gift and in the receiver were more intimate than one might expect. He'd noticed his father and the countess spent a great deal of time together, but Tor had chalked that up to being thick as thieves planning The Great Royal Wedding.
Now, he had to rethink that conclusion.
Was his father having an affair with the countess? In a relationship with her?
Certainly, whatever was going on between the two was not for public consumption as no official, or even family only announcements had been made.
Blythe sat across the room, opening her own gifts. Her festive but stylish, dark red jumpsuit clung to her curves enticingly. She'd pulled her long brown hair away from her face with a clip. She was, as always, beautiful.
Not that he allowed even the slightest spark of that approval to show in his expression. Tor kept his gaze moving on to the rest of his family, though his mind stayed fixed on the Travel journalist.
He had been unsurprised to discover she planned to spend Christmas with them. Blythe seemed to prefer spending holidays with Janne rather than her own parents.
Tor knew there was a story there, but it was one he doubted he would ever hear.
"Just imagine Christmas morning when we have little ones to tear into the gifts." Tor's father rubbed his hands together in anticipatory glee and gave Janne and Holger a significant look.
"I used to love watching you open your gifts," Lady Ingrid said to Janne.
His father gave them all a benevolent look. "It was my favorite time of year when you boys were children."
"Whenever we have children, I will have a fine example of fatherhood to follow," Holger said with uncustomary sentimentality.
Geir added something similar.
Tor knew he was expected to echo the sentiment. He couldn't do it.
His father had abdicated that role when he was eight years old and although everyone in his family seemed to think there was nothing wrong with that, he couldn't voice some lie about how Prince Canute, former king, had set the prime example of fatherhood.
Tor was a grown man now and it did not matter anymore that he had no relationship with his father, but he wasn't pretending some perfect childhood either.
Standing up, he said, "I need to call Else and wish her happy Christmas."
He left the room before anyone could answer.
His phone call to Else was short, but she thanked him for making it. Their implied relationship had done what he'd intended and taken the pressure off her to look for a husband rather than focus on her education.
