Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Margot
Getting out of the limo with twenty pounds of ballerina pink tulle zippered snugly around my body is a real struggle. I push myself up against the doorframe, cursing my own decision to wear this delicate, strapless ballgown. When I finally find my feet, I pat my hair discretely.
Are we really about to do this? My heart pounds. I look up at the fancy hotel we are at, praying that I don’t sweat in this dress.
Stellan is right by my side, offering his arm. He’s at his most dazzling dressed in a dapper tuxedo and his smile as he looks me up and down gives me chills.
“You look amazing in that dress,” he intones, his eyes taking me in. “You’re going to be perfect tonight.”
I place my hand on the inner elbow of his tuxedo jacket, exhaling. “Thank you. I won’t even bother to compliment you, because you always look perfect.”
He smirks. “Come on, then.”
He leads me past the bowing bellhops and valets, through the perfect pink granite lobby, and up a gorgeous pink granite grand staircase.
We emerge onto the second floor and hear the party before we see it; strains of a string quartet escape from the ballroom to our right.
He sweeps right past the people crowded around a set of wide double doors.
I try to play it cool, lifting my head high like I belong here, but I don’t.
I am just pulled along with him.
As we enter the ballroom, I notice people bowing. They’re definitely bowing to Stellan and not to me, but it still makes me uncomfortable. The party is already in full swing, the women in extravagant gowns, the men stunning in their tuxes.
It’s a Wednesday night, for god’s sake. Don’t these rich people have better places to be than here? Especially tonight, the night that Stellan and I are stepping out together as a couple.
My heartbeat gallops away in my chest. I suck in a breath.
“There’s Pippa,” Stellan says, nudging me.
I glance in the direction he nods. Pippa is right there, wearing the most amazing bright pink ballgown topped with an enormous bow. She turns and spots me, grinning.
I look up at Stellan, then go still. I want to go see Pippa, but I definitely don’t want to let Stellan down.
He leans in so close to my ear that his words are a kind of tease. “I’m afraid we have to say hello to a number of important people first. I promise you, the second we are through, you can go see Pippa.”
I grin, slipping my hand down to find his. “Is this okay?”
His lips twitch. “Very.” He kisses me on the lips and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I can feel the gazes of the people around us turning curious.
I blush red as a ripe summer strawberry, straightening his lapel. “You can take me around to as many people as you want. At the end of the day, I get to be here with you.”
He smirks then leans down to whisper in my ear again. “Good girls get rewarded. Just something for you to think about.”
My blush deepens, going all the way down my neck. “You are wicked. A truly wicked prince.”
He winks. “You’re fucking right I am.”
Stellan guides me over to an older couple. He says hello, chats with them for a moment, then introduces me.
“This is Margot Keane, my girlfriend.”
My eyes widen a little. I glance at him with a startled look. We definitely didn’t talk about labeling this thing between us. The older couple look at me curiously as we shake hands.
“Hi,” I say, because I have no idea what else to say.
“You’re American!” the woman says, a little taken back. “How… interesting!”
My cheeks burn sixteen shades of red. She just made it clear as day that I am the weirdo, standing here in a dress I don’t own, on the arm of a man who isn’t mine. I nod dumbly, feeling like I want to crawl under a rock and never come out again.
This was such a bad idea. I watch Stellan’s face anxiously, trying to figure out when he’s going to pull the ripcord and bail out of this disaster.
It’s only a minute before Stellan excuses us, pulling me by the elbow as he moves away. He looks down at me, but never stops moving. “If we keep circling, it will look like we are on the way to talk to someone,” he confides.
“Should I leave?” I whisper.
That causes him to stop. “What? Why?” Then he glances back where we just were. “Oh, because of the Eldins? God no. I picked them as the first people because they will hate you no matter what you do. They hate me, to be perfectly honest.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“Ja. I just wanted you to cut your teeth on them. Because it doesn’t matter if you are the most charming person ever or if you’re a nervous wreck…
they are so old and so conservative that they won’t approve of you either way.
” He slides his palm up my back, his smile genuine. “It wasn’t that bad, actually.”
A surprised huff of laughter leaves my lips. “It was terrible! Not to mention the fact that you sprang the whole girlfriend thing on me…”
He smirks. “What? You’re going to say that you don’t desperately want to be my girlfriend?”
I blush and roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.” His eyes shine with a mischievous light. “Are you ready to meet people who aren’t an absolute waste of space?”
I suck in a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”
For the first ten people I am introduced to — as Stellan’s girlfriend, no less — I’m nervous. The next thirty or so go by in a blur. And after the next thirty, my head starts to spin.
“I need a break,” I whisper to Stellan.
He raises his brow. “Now? We are almost done.” he wrinkles his nose.
“We just have to greet my grandmother and Prime Minister Finley. Don’t worry, they are almost always together at these things.
My grandmother thrives when she feels like she’s important.
Finley does his part by following her around and kissing her ass. ”
I color faintly. “Okay. I just… I don’t know how you do it. Smile for everybody, remember mundane details about their lives…”
He shrugs. “I’ve had years of practice. Trust me, you get better at it the longer you do it.”
Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes briefly. “Okay. I can do one more.”
When I open my eyes, I find him looking around the ballroom. “I think my grandmother and Prime Minister Finley are holding court all the way over there.”
He takes my hand and leads me through the densely crowded ballroom. It’s weird to watch people realize that they are in the path that Stellan intends to take. They jump out of the way, apologizing profusely for having done exactly nothing.
We pass Pippa again, who is slow dancing with Lars. Her head is on his shoulder, her eyes are tightly closed. He holds her as carefully as if she were made of the most delicate glass. As if he is afraid to shatter her.
I tug on Stellan’s hand. When he looks back, I nod at them.
He doesn’t look the least bit surprised. “That’s been going on for years. They’re best friends. Or maybe they are lovers. Who can keep track anymore?”
He turns away and keeps going, and I force myself to turn my gaze toward the far corner of the ballroom. We pass by more people and then the path we are on clears. There in the corner of the room is a huddle of people, centered around the most petite figure, that of Stellan’s grandmother.
She is elegance personified. She’s wearing a dress made of ivory silk and she looks as perfect as a wedding cake topper.
“What do I call your grandmother?” I whisper.
“Her Royal Highness,” Stellan whispers.
He leads me right up to the people gathered in the circle. Without a word, the circle widens, leaving a gap for us to step through. Her Royal Highness is just finishing a story and several people laugh.
She looks right at me, her face creasing ever so slightly. I can feel her gaze as it traces down to where I cling to her grandson’s hand. She cocks an eyebrow, looking at Stellan.
“Should we go somewhere more private?” she asks him.
Stellan grips my hand harder. “Why would we? I just wanted to introduce you all formally.” He turns to me.
“Margot Keane, this is Her Royal Highness, the Queen Dowager. And right beside her is Prime Minister Finley, the Prime Minster.” They each lower their heads for the barest second.
“Everyone, this is Margot. My girlfriend.”
Every pair of eyes within hearing distance is suddenly on me. Every drop of blood in my whole body rushes to my cheeks.
“Hello,” I say softly. “It’s a pleasure.”
Prime Minister Finley clears his throat. “Girlfriend, you say?”
Her Royal Highness fastens her gaze on me. “I suggest we withdraw to somewhere we can speak alone, Stellan.”
Stellan gives everyone a bland smile. “We are perfectly fine, Momse. Thank you. Actually, I promised Margot that we could head to another engagement as soon as she had formally met you.”
The expression of astonishment mixed with a frosty anger looks right at home on her face. “I would speak with you in private— “
That’s the moment that I hear the first angry shout. I whip my head around and see a few of people wearing all red coming into the ballroom.
“Danmark ?nsker frihed!” one cries, raising a fist in the air. The others shout in support.
“Frihed fra tyranni!”
“Frihed!”
My eyes widen and my jaw drops. They are protesting. Worse, they are protesting us.
I look at Stellan, who instinctively steps in front of me. “What are they saying?”
“Afskaffe monarkiet!” another one screams.
Stellan’s face is stony as he watches the protestors as a swarm of security guards moves in to surround them. “They’re calling for freedom from tyranny. I assume that they are Red-Green Party protestors, calling for the abolishment of the monarchy.”
I turn back and look at the protestors, my face going beet red. Though I’ve been too wrapped up in Stellan lately to be a rabble-rouser, I have been in their shoes. I’ve even been to Red-Green Party meetings.
How am I on the other side of the issue now? My heart starts beating at a frenzied pace.
Am I turning my back on the issues I once so cared about?
A bodyguard materializes out of nowhere. “Vi m? flytte dig et andet sted, Prins Stellan.”
He starts to corral Stellan, who has a good four inches on him. “Vi tager afsted,” Stellan says. “Come on, Margot.”
I allow myself to be hustled out of the ballroom while the protestors are being herded out the opposite side. One of the protestors throws a balloon filled with red paint, which bursts against the doorway just as I pass under it.
Red paint falls on my head and the back of my dress, but Stellan shelters me from most of the fallout.
“Rend mig i r?ven!” he mutters. “Fuck! We have to go. Come on, let’s get out of here before the press gets wind of the protest.”
Still stunned, I let him lead me down the back stairway and to a waiting car.