Chapter 22
Martin was my ear to the ground for the past few days. He made nice and shared information with Alexandra’s lady’s maid. Marta appeared trustworthy, knowing about the phone but saying nothing. Obligated to care for the girl and help her along, Marta was the last staff member remaining after Alexandra”s late mother”s death. Marta was crucial for the weeks ahead. With the channels open, we pushed forward.
I heard the Dowager Queen was about to skip off for a few days. It was time for us to break out of the asylum. I planned to show Alexandra—but not only Alexandra—more of the world. We would bring Astrid, too. I liked Astrid and knew she brought Alexandra out of her shell. Astrid was also Alexandra’s key ally. If I was to keep Alexandra happy, I also had to keep Astrid happy. What better way than taking them both out for a night on the town?
I felt new pressure to bond with Alexandra as Celeste’s spies became even bolder. I wasn’t sure why Celeste intervened, but I would ensure Alexandra remained far from the clutches of Celeste’s nerdy plant. I was not about to lose her to that dolt.
I spent time reading about wallpaper. I learned more than any man should about the stuff. It was exhausting keeping up this ruse when I could spend little time with Alexandra. But in the limited time we had, I needed to make a better impression. Before, I assumed that merely agreeing to the ruse was enough. However, if Celeste sewed doubt or caught me in a lie, Alexandra may pull back before we even got started.
Yes, my motives were strategic. I remained steadfast in this plan. I needed to focus on Alexandra. She needed me. And together, we could still rule the world. I just had to work a bit harder to do that. I couldn’t get lazy or complacent now.
I texted her.
Me
Do you copy?
Alexandra
What?
Me
Are you receiving this?
Alexandra
Yes.
Me
Meet me in the garden just after nightfall. Celeste is out of the palace. Take a walk with Astrid. Bring her.
Alexandra
What for?
Me
We are going out. Put on your most normal outfit. We will have a good time.
Alexandra
What?
Me
We are going to drink like normies. You’ll see.
She sent a thumbs up and I was satisfied.
Martin and I found the two women under a tree in the back garden around 9:30. They were dressed down in jeans. There was no way out. I decided to walk out the front and bring security with us claiming we had a late dinner reservation. The girls were doubtful.
“It won’t work,” Alexandra protested.
“I will make it work. I planned it, right?”
Alexandra and Astrid rolled their eyes. They acted more like one person than two.
“Anyone have a better idea?” I asked.
“No,” Alexandra replied.
“Sir, if I may,” Martin interjected. “You and Her Majesty do have a right to eat dinner. I doubt they will stop you for that. You’ve done it before.”
“Alexandra, you are the one in charge,” I said. “You can tell them?—”
“They will not listen to me. Martin or you, yes,” Alexandra said.
I looked at Astrid. Her arms were crossed and she appeared defeated. I hated that the girls were probably right. We had no business ordering anyone around, even if that should be Alexandra’s job.
“Come on then,” I pulled Alexandra by the hand, leading the two to the service entrance.
“Where are you headed?” Alexandra’s guards asked.
“We need to go downtown,” I said. “Dinner reservations. Sort of… last minute.”
“We will wait while you clear it,” Martin added. “It is authorised on our side.”
“Is there an issue?”
Alexandra stared in a quite intimidating manner at the head of security.
“Because I am getting cross standing here. And… well, Rikard has been so darling to offer to take us out to dinner. We were fed scraps tonight since our grandmother is out. Would you have us starve?”
She laid it on thick, now batting her eyelashes. She knew what she was doing. I resisted the urge to laugh. I handed it to her.
“We were just so hungry. Second dinner,” Astrid played along. “You know how it is.”
The head of security looked doubtful, but his men were completely captivated by the women. Their distraction was evident.
“Please?” Astrid said. “It would be so lovely.”
“We’d be forever grateful,” Alexandra added. “If it won’t be too much trouble.”
They flirted. I was dying laughing inside. I was proud of them for this bizarre act of defiance. Baby steps. The head of security relented, calling us a car. We were off.
“Don’t have them drop us right at the restaurant,” I told Martin. “We can take detail, but I’d rather fly under the radar.”
The restaurant was a casual place—a brewery with a kitchen that was second to none among the small group of Neandian hipsters. The fact that there were hipsters confused me. Neandia was an odd place. Upon arrival, they dropped us in an alley 2 blocks away, our rendezvous point if we weren’t seen. Martin informed us that if we were spotted and things got messy, we’d be swooped out of there before we could scarf down our food.
The girls and I walked into the bar and asked for a table. No one questioned it. Alexandra and Astrid were unrecognisable in street clothes. Astrid had a very casual demeanour about her on any day, but even Alexandra was always buttoned up. Tonight, she waited for a table, her hands in the pockets of her painted-on jeans. It was good to see them enjoying themselves. I couldn’t imagine having lived twenty or more years, never to see the inside of a bar. The drinking age in Lundhavn was a tender eighteen. Great, boozy celebrations were a rite of passage before one went to university.
“Can you tell me what to order?” Alexandra whispered at first but raised her voice because the place was loud.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what to drink.”
“What?”
“We don’t get to drink beer—ever,” Astrid explained. “We have no idea.”
“We can get a flight.”
They cocked their heads in unison. The resemblance unnerved me.
“It’s six beers. Tiny ones. You can pick and choose. Let’s get two and split them. Choose what you think would be good.”
The girls chose based on beer names. Some were slang terms I didn’t understand. My French wasn’t the best. Now around French speakers day and night, I admitted my French needed improvement. I was assured that our engagement interview would be conducted in English.
The beers arrived along with the huge basket of fries the girls ordered as a starter—as they were starving. Finally, our burgers arrived. The way they dug in, it was as if this was their first time tasting food. They inhaled the frites, ordering even more. It was as if they just escaped a bunker or a cult. I felt grateful to have a somewhat normal childhood.
As we finished our burgers—which they devoured in about five seconds—a man approached and sought out Astrid. Sitting on her own across from us, she looked up, keyed into the fact he was hitting on her. Meanwhile, Alexandra was confused and acting like the world’s greatest cockblock.
“What’s your name?” Astrid played with her hair.
“Tim.”
“You from around here?” Astrid knew full well he wasn’t.
“No, the UK,” he said in poor French. “I’m in a band.”
He laid it on thick, but I had to hand it to him.
Astrid changed to English, taking pity upon him. “I’m Asti. I’m from here. And I speak English.”
“Brilliant. Nice to meet you.”
“This is my sister, Alex, and our… friend… Rick.”
I hated being the friend—more than I was willing to admit.
He nodded. “Cool, cool. So you want a beer?”
“We still have some,” Alexandra said.
“Go, go,” I gestured to Astrid. “Get another. We can finish these off, babe.”
I sensed Alexandra”s confusion. We’d never done pet names.
“Um sure,” Astrid jumped at the chance to grab a drink with a musician.
“Why? We have perfectly good beer, Rikard!”
“He was hitting on her.”
Alexandra again cocked her head like a spaniel.
“Chatting her up?”
Alexandra nodded. “Oh, got it. Really?”
“Yes. That is a normal adult interaction at a place like this.”
She looked hurt by my words.
“I’m sorry,” I said more tenderly. “I didn’t want to hurt her chances. I know this is new for you.”
“Do not baby me, Rick!”
“I won’t. I’m not.”
I needed to distract her. So, I tucked some stray hair behind her ear. Alexandra remained still. Our eyes met, stuck on one another for too long. I couldn’t help but edge closer—much closer. The urge to kiss her grew stronger. So, I went for it.
Alexandra kissed me back the same way she had earlier—in a lusty, not-so-chaste way. She got more adventurous now. She bit my lip, pulled away slightly, and stared back. Then, she dug back in, gripping my shirt tightly. If we were putting on a show, we were doing a damn good job. If we were not, we were still doing a damn good job.
“You are being very naughty, Lex,” I said.
“I thought my name was babe?” Alexandra asked.
“I got caught up in things.”
She smiled. “If you keep kissing me like that—enough to make me lose myself—you can call me whatever you want.”
“Challenge accepted.”
I kissed her again. Had we not been who we were and where we were, I might have suggested we slip away. Shortly after that thought came, Astrid and Tim returned.
Tim and his bandmates asked us to follow them to another bar. Despite my desire to push Alexandra up against a wall and do much more, I wasn’t going to cockblock my future sister-in-law. Astrid was quick not to hold Tim’s hand in public. She was smart. Meanwhile, Alexandra disregarded any sense of propriety, and I adored her for it. I wanted people to know I was with her. I wanted to claim her in a way—not as an object, but as the woman I was about to marry. Any man would feel the same. Alexandra felt more mine than ever. But, for the first time, I hoped she might see me as hers.