Chapter Sixteen #2
Selina’s belly twisted. ‘That explains it… Well, once more unto the breach!’ she declared, pretending to be an actor from one of her beloved playhouses and swinging her imaginary sword. She was about to walk away when Magnus stopped her with a hand to her arm.
‘What have they said?’
Selina glanced at Margarite who was staring at her slippers as if they were utterly fascinating. ‘Oh, I probably misheard. She said I had.’
‘Who?’
‘Countess Rosenborg. But honestly, I have no idea what she said, as she was speaking in Norwegian.’
Magnus shrugged. ‘Can you repeat it?’
‘Oh, something like…’ And she repeated the words slowly and phonetically, knowing immediately that Magnus understood them by the hot fury blooming on his face, and guessing they were indeed an insult as she had presumed.
‘The countess said that?’ he asked coldly, his voice low and yet somehow more terrifying because of it. He turned his hardened gaze towards Margarite, who looked as if she might cry and dipped into an immediate carpet-scraping curtsy.
‘Forgive me, Your Serene Highness!’ she wailed.
Selina stepped between them and threw up her hands in disbelief. ‘Oh, come, you cannot blame Margarite! What could she say to a countess? And anyway, what was it? I am sure I have been called worse.’
Magnus turned on his heel and strode to the room at the end of the corridor, throwing open the doors with such a loud bang that there were screams of fright from the ladies and dogs within.
Selina, horrified by his behaviour and wondering how she would ever recover socially from this new disaster, tried to gather her wits.
Did Magnus want her to become an outcast, hated by everyone in Thrudheim? Could she pretend it was a misunderstanding? But to do so, she had to act quickly.
‘What did Lady Rosenborg say, Margarite? Tell me quickly!’
Margarite choked out the words with a sob. ‘She said… “It’s like putting diamonds on a pig”.’
Selina’s heart sank. Not only because of the cruel words but because there was very little she could do about them now. If she’d known what had been said earlier, she might have avoided this situation.
She could hear Magnus ranting in the other room, and by his tone he was reprimanding the group of women sternly. She touched Margarite’s arm until the young woman raised her golden head to meet her eyes. ‘Margarite, I rely on you. Please, no matter how difficult the truth is, I need to hear it.’
Margarite nodded with reluctant understanding and hurried to explain.
‘Some people are disappointed that you are not of a higher rank. They say the prince has let his heart rule his head, as the last king of Thrudheim did. Marrying the Danish princess, when a stronger alliance could have been made elsewhere.’
‘How so?’
‘Their marriage paved the way for Denmark to seize control, and because it was a love match they fear the same will happen again. Especially as there are now rumours that Prince Hans is enthralled with Miss Sonja Bergen. They fear Thrudheim will lose its independence before it is fully returned.’ Margarite took a deep breath and then gasped.
‘But it is only some people, Ma’am. The vast majority trust and love Prince Magnus. ’
They both winced as they heard Magnus’s ranting crescendo.
‘Stay here. I will be just one moment.’
Selina hurried down the corridor and was shocked to see every lady of the court kneeling on the carpeted floor, as if they were awaiting execution.
‘Magnus, what are you doing?’
Lady Rosenborg lowered her head in a subservient bow, her dog whimpering with its tail between its legs beside her. ‘I apologise, Your Serene Highness.’
‘Shall we strip the countess of her title?’ Magnus asked Selina in a commanding tone.
Lady Rosenborg clutched her skirts and lowered her head to the ground with a sob.
Selina hurried to Magnus’s side, and whispered, ‘Surely you do not mean that?’
Magnus turned towards her, his jaw as sharp as a blade. ‘You are the Princess of Thrudheim, and my chosen wife. If you wish it, I will strip her of title and gown and have her thrown out into the street naked.’
Selina grabbed his arm. ‘No, please don’t do that!’
‘Why not?’ he snapped, glaring at her as if daring her to argue with him, before turning his enraged gaze back on the terrified women.
‘Stripping their titles should be the least of their worries. Not one woman defended Her Serene Highness from Lady Rosenborg’s insult!
Not one!’ The last two words were bellowed so loudly the luncheon china rattled.
Selina nodded, trying her best to appease his anger. ‘Perhaps I did not—’ She’d been about to give some excuse when Magnus interrupted her.
‘They are to blame, not you! Nothing you could have done today would have appeased them.’
Selina sighed. ‘I know, but…we are all human, and everyone makes mistakes.’
His eyes widened. ‘We do, and today they will learn the consequences of theirs! Lady Rosenborg, leave the palace and never return. You are banned from all royal functions. You may keep your title. Let whatever remaining thread of honour it has give comfort to you in your final years. The rest of you shall learn some humility and will gift money to charity. An amount and worthy cause picked by Her Serene Highness. Now leave us!’
The ladies nodded pitifully in agreement and hurried from the room in a tangle of skirts and yapping dogs.
After the doors closed behind them, Selina sighed despondently. ‘They will hate me now.’
A muscle flexed in his jaw, and she could tell he was trying to restrain the emotions he usually kept so tightly in check. ‘Some people, no matter what you do, will always hate you.’
A lump formed in Selina’s throat, and Magnus’s face softened with sympathy as he took her hands in his.
‘But those women do not matter. They are from another time that is already fading from memory. You cannot change their opinion, and you only waste your time and happiness trying to please them. Do not let them break you. They may never like you, but they will now respect you.’
His eyes filled with an ocean of heartache and compassion, and Selina realised he must have learned such a lesson himself. Possibly when he was only a boy and from the fierce man in the painting who should have loved him.