Lady Shane clears her throat, sensing tension bubbling between Dalia and the Queen. “Of course. I am certain that Dalia only meant to tease. Didn’t you, dear?”
Dalia beams. “Oh yes. Certainly. I didn’t mean to bring up those ugly headlines about Annika stuffing herself— “
Annika shoots to her feet, her face contorting with rage. “That’s enough from you, Dalia. And FYI? You’ll never be a member of the royal family. My brothers all hate you— “
“Okay!” I jump up, cutting her off. I laugh a little as I slip my arm around Annika. “You know, I think Annika is tired. Poor girl, we had a late event last night…”
I see Annika’s chin start to wobble; a telltale sign of tears sure to come. The Queen folds her arms across her chest and looks displeased.
“I see,” is all she has to say.
“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us,” I say, bowing my head.
Annika wrenches herself out of my grasp and storms off, leaving me to chase after her. It’s a little dicey because there are still waitstaff circling and serving the many other tables. Annika manages to slip through the crowd, something someone of my stature can’t do nearly as easily. But after dodging several tea-wielding servers, I catch up with Annika outside the ballroom.
“Annika,” I try.
“Don’t,” she warns, barely repressed fury in her tone. She dashes away a welling of tears from her eyes.
She looks angry as she stalks down the hotel’s grand white marble hallway.
“Annika—“ I say, trying to grab her.
She suddenly stops, squaring off with me. Her head tips back, her face is flushed, and she glares at me utterly defiantly.
“I won’t…” Her eyes suddenly shine with unshed tears, her voice growing strained. “I won’t… apologize.”
I step closer, my hands coming up to brace her arms. Not a hug, exactly. But I can’t very well stand here and be a stone wall.
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” I say, searching her face. She peers up at me, guileless, her blue eyes shimmering.
“I know that you don’t want to be here,” she says, her voice breaking. “I know that you’re just doing as you’re told. The good little soldier. God, what must you think of me?”
I grip her arms, frowning down at her. “I don’t know, Annika. I can’t seem to decide what to think.”
Annika hangs her head. “If you read the newspapers, you’d have an opinion. Did you know they call me Princess Piggie?”
A muscle ticks in my jaw. “That’s not how I see you.”
“No?” She flexes her hands, looking down at them. “My hands feel weird.” She wheezes the next few breaths, looking back up at me with a distinct note of worry. “I… I can’t breathe. My chest is…” She shakes off my touch, clawing at her chest. She continues to struggle for breath. “I think… I feel like I’m dying.”
My brow hunches. I glance around the hallway, feeling like a fish out of water. When Annika grips my arm hard, I glance back at her, feeling helpless.
Fuck. Is she going to be okay? Do I need to get a doctor?
“Get me…” she pauses, wheezing. “Get me somewhere quiet.”
I can hear her struggle to breathe. I can feel the waves of anxiety coming off of her.
“Okay.” I look around, spotting a door only a few paces away. “Come on.”
I guide her to the door, opening it to find that it’s just an empty closet. I hesitate for a moment. But Annika breaks out of my hold, going straight inside and huddling in a corner.
Leaving the door open a sliver, I get down on the floor beside her and try to offer some kind of comfort. She sits down and puts her head between her knees, leaning against my body.
“It’s okay,” I say, looking down at the top of her golden head. “Everything is okay.”
She wheezes, pulling oxygen into her lungs. She’s trembling, clenching and unclenching her fists. And I am just sitting here beside her, completely out of my depth.
“Should I do something? Should I get someone to help?” I ask.
Annika just shakes her head. She reaches out a hand to me. After a moment of staring at it, I take her hand and grip it in both of mine.
I feel like a fucking idiot. Putting my arm around her shoulders, I wait for a few minutes. Her breathing relaxes a little. Her trembling subsides. She finally sits up, leaning her head back against the wall.
“Fuck,” she says. “For a good ten minutes, I really felt like I was going to die.”
I frown. “You should go to a doctor, Annika.”
She chuckles humorlessly and glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “Believe me, I did. It was just a panic attack. I’ve had them for years.”
She tugs at her hand, which I have forgotten that I’m still holding onto. I let go, my neck heating.
“I see,” is all I can manage.
Annika gives her head a little shake. “I think that I’ll call it a day. Surely the royal press office can’t say anything if I’m sick. Help me up?”
Narrowing my eyes, I climb to my feet. I offer her a hand, which she takes. As I hoist her up, she squeezes my hand. She pins me with her powder blue gaze and cocks her head.
“Thanks,” she says softly. There is a moment, just a few beats of my heart, where something shimmers in the air between us.
A sensation of emotional openness.
Then she drops my hand, whirls toward the closet door, and bolts away. I’m left to follow her, my heart squeezing in my chest, a million questions crowding into my brain.
11
Erik
Our chauffeur pulls the limousine around the entrance of Amalienborg castle. I take a moment to look at the majesty of the place. Made of light-colored brick, the four massive tan brick buildings all huddle in a circle, all saluting a rather large statue of a man on a horse. With their white-trimmed windows, dark roofs, and guards dressed in scarlet, the palaces definitely proudly exude money. It’s truly a sight to behold.
I glance over at Annika. Her expensive black designer heels are on the seat between us. She has hiked up her floor length blue velvet dress to mid-thigh. The delicate silver tiara that adorned her upswept hair is tossed carelessly next to the shoes, and she’s run her fingers through her wavy mane. She is slumped against her door, scrolling through her phone with a glazed expression.
For a second, my lips curl. She reminds me of nothing more than a big cat right now. Resting, yes, but still monitoring what is going on with a jaundiced eye.
The second the limo pulls to a stop, she is in motion. She flings the door open and vaults herself out of the cool leather seats. She doesn’t wait for anyone to open the doors for her… and she completely ignores the tiara and shoes that she’s discarded.
I frown and scoop them up, following her out of the car. Annika is already disappearing inside the palace, the tail of her long blue dress carelessly crumpled in one hand.
I follow her inside and up the grand staircase with a sigh. “Annika!”
She doesn’t even pause. She’s been acting oddly all night, as if she isn’t wasn’t aware of my presence. We went from a school opening in the morning to an afternoon at a water polo match and ended the evening at some charity gala or another.