But things aren’t normal… things may never be normal again.
Shivering and trembling, I sink onto the couch and try to stop my thoughts from spinning out of control.
10
Erik
Clearing my throat, I stand ramrod straight as I hold the door to the ballroom open for a crowd of ladies. My face creases as I peer inside the ballroom. The walls are draped in a light pink velvet. The many tables are each covered in spring green or off white or baby pink. The tables are set with gleaming silver tiered trays of macaroons and sandwiches, polished water glasses, and white porcelain teacups.
Looking at how intricately decorated the room is for high tea makes me tense.
Doubly so when my glance trips over Annika. She’s breathtaking just now in her baby blue dress, her blonde hair swept off her neck in a fashionable knot.
I escorted her here of course, because apparently, I’m a very expensive and very glorified babysitter. But she didn’t so much as speak a word to me in the car on the way here. Instead I just stewed in the icy tension brewing between us.
And tried not to relive every second of the evening before, when I grabbed her. When I pulled her close, dug a hand into her hair, and kissed her neck. When I ran my hand up the soft skin of her inner thigh.
When I touched her pussy, finding it hot and wet and ready for me.
A fine shudder runs through me, remembering the sensation. I know that I misbehaved. The fact that I completely lost my mind for a moment and laid my hands on Stellan’s little sister makes me so deeply ashamed.
I just don’t know what to do about it. And it’s clear that Annika doesn’t either.
I move inside the ballroom, smoothing a hand down my navy tie and black suit jacket. Everywhere I look there are fancy ladies in sleek light pink or white dresses, gathering at tables to sit down. I see that Annika is standing awkwardly by her mother the former queen and her grandmother, waiting. for them to take their seats. She looks like she’s about to drown in this sea of older women.
My attentions aren’t needed there. Like many times in my life, I think that it would be best if I were to just wait downstairs near the cars.
I turn around and am brought up short when I almost knock over a young brunette in a skintight pink lace dress. Her upturned nose and severely plucked eyebrows look familiar but I can’t immediately place her. She grins and latches onto my arm.
“Erik!” she crows. Her voice is loud and high-pitched, and it brings me back to last summer. She’s a royal hanger-on, one of those girls that used to flutter around Stellan, hoping he would look their way.
“Dalia,” I summon her name out of my memory. “Right?”
She beams at me, leaning close and hanging on my arm. “Of course, you remembered my name. How gentlemanly.”
My eyes narrow. “I was just leaving.”
Dalia widens her eyes. “But why? When I heard that you were going to be at our table, I got all starry eyed. You can’t leave me all alone at the Queen Mother’s table!”
I blanch, glancing behind me. The Queen Mother and Annika are just now taking their seats, Annika with a scowl on her face.
“Yeah, I don’t think—“ I start.
“Shh. Come on,” Dalia says sternly. She starts towing me toward the table in question,
I resist. “Seriously, Dalia— “
But Dalia is already making a scene, waving to the Queen Mother. “We’re coming!”
I release a sigh, allowing myself to be pulled over to the table of honor. There are six women already seated and just two seats left on opposite sides of the table. One is next to Annika; I can see from the place cards that it’s intended for me.
I shake off Dalia’s grip. “This is my spot.”
Dalia pouts as she slinks to the other side. I slide into my seat, trying not to call too much attention to myself. Annika gives me the cold shoulder, tossing her hair and turning away.
Just as well and fine with me, honestly.
“Dalia! Who have you found?” an older brunette asks, indicating me.
Dalia smirks and makes the introduction. “Mor, this is Erik. He’s one of Stellan’s friends. Erik, this is my mother, Lady Shane.” She pauses, eyeing me. “As you can see, the Shanes and the royal family are very close.”
I repress an eye roll, bowing my head briefly. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Shane.”
The Queen, who is usually noticeably absent, clears her throat politely. It’s obvious that Annika and her mother share the same gene pool; they have the exact same aristocratic nose, the same impossibly high cheekbones, the same pouty lips. I can tell exactly what Annika will look like in twenty years’ time just by glancing at her mother.
And I have to say, she will still be undeniably beautiful.
“Erik, it’s so nice to see you here,” the Queen says.
I incline my head again, deeper this time. “Thank you, your highness. His Royal Highness is feeling well, I hope?”
Without even thinking about it, I just casually mentioned her husband the former king. Until a recent Alzheimer’s diagnosis, he reigned as king for my entire life.
A flush comes to the Queen’s cheeks. Annika kicks me under the table, shooting me a frown.
The Queen recovers gracefully though. “He is very well. Thank you for asking. And thank you for taking care of Annika.” She smiles at her daughter, patting her hand. “She does need a little extra attention. Right, darling?”
Annika’s cheeks turn scarlet. I expect her to say something sarcastic. But to my surprise, she doesn’t. She just looks down at her lap and mumbles, “Yes, mar.”
My eyebrows rise a fraction. Looking back and forth between the Queen and her very unhappy daughter, I think that I’m missing some important info. I have no idea what, just that there is something about the Queen that makes proud, reckless Annika… submissive.
What is that, exactly? I wonder about it while several waiters come around our table, filling our teacups with dark, fragrant tea. The Queen looks at me. “How have you been, Erik?”
I raise my gaze from my teacup, feeling a little put on the spot. “Very well, your royal highness.”
She smiles. “Please, call me Thora. We are practically family, after all. And besides, I feel like Margot and Stellan have really shaken things up in the royal family. I stepped down as Queen, Margot will take my place later this year…”
Annika gives her mother a small smile. “That’s a good view to take.”
Her mother tilts her head and sighs. “I was just talking to Stellan yesterday, and he said the same thing. Which of course meant the world to me…”
Annika flinches at Stellan’s name, looking back down at her lap. The Queen doesn’t notice her daughter’s distress; she goes on to tell a long, rather uninteresting story about how as a child, Stellan would bring her flowers and brighten up her day.
Dalia narrows her eyes at Annika, smirking just a bit. “That’s so wonderful. I’m glad one of your children only brings you joy. What do the others bring, I wonder?” She pretends to think about it for a second. “Nothing but news headlines, I suppose?”
The Queen smiles and reaches out her hand to Annika’s. “My other children bring me joy. And occasionally, they are the thorns in my bouquet of roses. But they still make me proud.”