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Before Petrus could figure out a way to make things right, Oskar appeared in the doorway and called his name. All eyes at the table turned to Oskar—who also looked a little worse for wear. He, too, didn’t seem to have slept well, and even though Oskar was normally reserved and dignified, there was a sharper edge of irritation in his voice and his stance.
“Petrus, I must speak with you at once,” Oskar said, gesturing for Petrus to come away from the breakfast table.
Petrus blinked, feeling as though he were in the middle of a storm with no idea how he’d gotten there and no idea how to get out. He glanced to Charlotte with a questioning look—and noticed Lady Jenny squeeze her eyes shut and lower her head, sharp blots of pink appearing on her cheeks—then shrugged.
“Go, go,” Charlotte said. She wore a frown of the sort she’d worn the other night, when the family had played at solving riddles that the others had come up with.
Petrus nodded, pushed his chair back, wished he was at liberty to kiss Charlotte’s forehead, or her lips, before standing all the way and stepping back from the table.
“What is this all about?” he asked Oskar once he met him at the door.
Oskar frowned and glanced back into the breakfast room before heading down the hall.
They didn’t go far before Oskar touched his sleeve and drew him into an empty parlor.
“It is Christmas Eve,” Oskar said once they’d walked to the far side of the room. Oskar pulled back the curtains to gaze out into the courtyard below. The look on his face was such a tangle of frustration and devastation that it made Petrus squirm.
Petrus waited for him to say something else, to explain the uncomfortable emotion on his face. Emotion was not Petrus’s favorite thing to encounter, particularly in another man, his cousin. He would much rather have left Oskar to his own thoughts and feelings, but his cousin had drawn him aside for a reason.
Oskar seemed to tense like a bowstring, then let out a breath all of a sudden and turned to him.
“We all have duties in this family, Petrus. Even you,” Oskar said.
At once, Petrus’s back went up. Oskar rarely, if ever, held his origin against him, but the comment seemed to be doing just that. It was not the best foot for Oskar to start off on. Petrus did the best he could to tamp down his indignation, but he bristled with offense as Oskar went on.
“We might not like the things we are asked to do on behalf of the kingdom, but it is our duty, as members of the royal family, to comply with the wishes of our king,” he said.
“To which duties are you referring?” Petrus asked. He knew, of course. He just wanted Oskar to say it out loud and get to the point.
Oskar huffed through his nose and turned away to the window. He seemed to be gathering his courage as he strode up to Petrus, hands clasped behind his back.
“You know as well as I that the Kingdom of Aegiria holds a precarious place in Europe,” he said, sounding very much like the future king he was. “We are a small fish surrounded by sharks in an ever-shrinking pond. It is imperative that we maintain the very best relations with our neighbors, and that we comply to their wishes wherever we can to strengthen alliances.”
Petrus clasped his hands behind his back, mimicking Oskar’s stance. “You might as well come right out and say it,” he said. “Because I already know what you’re talking about.”
Oskar tensed even more, clenching his jaw for a moment before saying, “Lady Jenny Lindstrom is a marvelous woman, and from the moment she’s arrived, you’ve ignored her.”
“I have not ignored her,” Petrus argued. “I’ve been otherwise engaged, searching out and making myself known to my half-brothers.”
“Yes, I know,” Oskar snapped. “Yourotherfamily.”
Petrus’s eyes popped wide. Did Oskar resent his Rathborne-Paxton connections? Was he jealous?
Sure enough, Oskar half turned away and said, “You did not have to run off and disregard the family you already have for a handful of Englishmen.”
Surprise was too light a word for everything Petrus felt at those words. “Oskar,” he said, leaning toward his cousin, tempted to reach out and touch him. “Just because I have found other blood relations does not make them more important than the family that raised me from birth. I love you all as my very own, and I would never dream of replacing any of you.”
“Then why are you defying the wishes of your king to chase after an Englishwoman?” Oskar snapped.
Petrus jerked back, clenching his jaw. Something more was bothering Oskar. The torment in his cousin’s eyes went far deeper than the possibility that Petrus might like someone else more than he liked Oskar. That in itself was a rather childish way to think, but Oskar always had had a sentimental heart under his prickly, royal exterior. No one valued the family more than him. Oskar had always taken his duty as the future patriarch, as well as the future king, very, very seriously.
Perhaps that was the matter now.
“It is not merely a matter of duty, Oskar,” Petrus explained. “I love Miss Sloane. Surely, love must be accounted for in the execution of family duty as well.”
Petrus thought his argument was a good one, but Oskar flinched as though he’d been struck.
“Don’t you think I know that?” he hissed. “Love is important. Love is everything. But it is not the only thing.”
