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And for the first time since he’d come across her in the maze all those years ago, she’d had the audacity to order him to fix it. To fix Freya’s broken heart and the mess he’d created. And a connection had formed between them, despite his status and her role, a shared moment of understanding. She had commanded a king. And he’dobeyed. Andthatwas when things had changed between them. From that moment on, his gaze no longer passed over her. Each time she felt it, it caught, snagged on her and tugged. Not to get free, but to pull her to him, to draw her in as if she had no choice.
And now, as if he’d heard her very thoughts, across the lawn and in front of at least thirty of the world’s press and photographers, he looked straight at her and she had no time to brace herself for the impact. The fake smile didn’t matter, the way he was crouched down, shaking the hand of a little girl... No, it was the look in his eyes and even though it lasted barely a full second it was enough time for her breath to stutter, the hairs on her skin to lift and her heart to bruise. Turning away, she called herself all kinds of fool. Because it was now her job to find the King of Svardia a Queen.
Twenty minutes later Aleksander joined her as they walked away from one of her favourite charities. Founded by Aleksander, The Children’s Garden Party recognised children for overcoming life-changing events to their families and loved ones. It celebrated resilience and showed the children how much support they had within their communities beyond the finite boundaries of family and it never failed to remind her of the assistance the royal family had given her. Instinctively, their steps fell into a rhythm as Henna looked over the schedule she’d been sent by the press office.
‘You’re running a little behind,’ she observed as they made their way to the staff entrance at the back of the Palace.
His hand lifted almost to his temple before fisting and returning to his side as if he were unwilling to display any sign of frustration or weakness. Instead, he nodded. ‘The Prime Minister can wait. He won’t like it, but he will at least understand. The CEO from Nordact, however... Could you look into organising a palace tour for him? That would buy me, what, thirty minutes?’ he asked without looking at her.
‘It would buy you forty-eight minutes, Your Majesty, and if you had a secretary, they would be able to—’
‘It is not my fault that Anders retired when my father relinquished the throne,’ he snapped, uncharacteristically terse.
‘But it is your responsibility to find a replacement,’ she replied, aiming for delicacy and failing, given the look in his eyes. ‘It has been four months,’ she pressed. ‘It is—’
‘Enough.’
She pressed her lips together to prevent another ill-advised response from escaping, aware that Aleksander had no need to justify himself. So she was surprised when he said, ‘I was expecting Lars to continue on with me.’ She remembered the quiet, self-contained assistant who had been with Aleksander for almost as long as she had been with Freya.
‘Where is he now?’ she dared to ask.
‘I believe he is teaching personal assistant courses at an exorbitant fee.’
She couldn’t imagine it—just up and leaving like that. The relationship between a royal and their assistant—it was a bond unlike anything else. She thought back to the email she had received offering her a role away from the royal family. The job invitation she hadn’t yet replied to. An email she should just delete, but for some reason hadn’t yet. Shaking the thought clear from her mind, she focused on the task at hand.
‘We need to talk about your...’ Henna struggled for a word that wasn’t offensive or rude ‘...requirements.’ She thought she heard him grunt in response. Really, she was beginning to get more than a little frustrated. This was supposed to be something he wanted after all. ‘Your Highness, we need to discuss timelines and—’
‘Two weeks.’
Henna missed a step.
‘Are you unwell?’ he demanded.
‘I have a headache.’
‘I know the feeling,’ he muttered, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
‘Two weeks is all we have, as she will need to be on my arm for Freya’s engagement party,’ he said, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets. He squinted off into the distance. ‘She must be educated. Degree level at least,’ Aleksander plucked from an invisible list.
Henna noted it down on her tablet.
‘Scandal-free, preferably,’ he continued, and she ignored the way it sounded horrifyingly like ticking boxes on a medical health form.
‘Able to handle the press and public events,’ Henna added, adding it to the list only once Aleksander had nodded in approval. ‘Titled,’ she continued, starting to type before he could respond.
‘No.’
‘What?’ Henna asked, stopping to stare at him.
‘No, my future Queen doesn’t have to have a title.’ He was peering at her as if she had started to sprout leaves.
‘But what about Freya? And Marit when she thought she would have to replace Freya as second in line to the throne? The second in line has to marry someone with a title. It’s the legislation.’
‘I know that you might find this hard to believe, but I do know my country’s constitution. Can we?’ he asked, gesturing impatiently to the pathway that would bring them to the back of the palace.
‘But why not you?’
He stared at her impatiently. ‘Do you not consider my title enough for both of us?’
