Chapter 4
Harald
I slouch in my chair, watching Carl Hansen's latest attempt at wrangling the coalition partners into a budget agreement dissolve into chaos. The Prime Minister's round glasses fogged up as he mopped his forehead with a handkerchief for the fifth time in ten minutes.
"Perhaps if we redirected funds from the infrastructure portfolio..." Carl's voice trailed off as his Finance Minister Larsen cut him off with a sharp wave.
"We've been over this already. The bridges need repair now, not in five years and it cannot be put off any further."
I fought the urge to massage my temples. Father should have been here, guiding them, but he'd delegated this to me as "practice." More like punishment for the fundraiser disaster.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I snuck a glance while the Energy Minister Petersen launched into another tirade about wind farm subsidies. Daniel had responded to my comment.
"At least your day can't be worse than mine - unless you're stuck in a meeting with Satan's middle manager too? My boss just told my team that all of our reports need to be color-coded by 'emotional resonance.' Whatever that means...maybe I need to get my chakras aligned to understand it?"
A laugh escaped before I could stop it. Heads swiveled toward me, Carl's nervous energy temporarily redirected as he blinked rapidly in my direction.
"Your Highness? Did you have something to add?"
Heat crept up my neck. "No, my apologies. Please continue."
As they resumed arguing, I typed quickly: "This might be too forward, but would you want to continue this conversation over text instead?
I'm enjoying our banter and I feel that this might be better done in private.
No worries if not, I know swapping numbers with internet strangers isn't exactly recommended. "
My heart pounded as I hit send. This felt different, more real somehow. I'd never reached out directly to someone from the forum before. What if he said no? What if he said yes? What if he somehow figured out who I really was?
The reply came a minute later, which felt like an eternity: "Eh, you seem relatively sane. For now. Here's my number - don't make me regret this!"
I stare at Daniel's contact information on my phone screen, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Our brief exchanges had been the highlight of an otherwise dismal week.
His witty comebacks and self-deprecating humor were a breath of fresh air in the stuffy world of royal protocol and political maneuvering.
As the budget meeting droned on around me, my mind wandered to our previous interactions.
The way he'd commiserated about his boss's ridiculous demands, the clever quips about the absurdities of adult life.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt a genuine connection with someone who knew nothing about my title or family name.
It was refreshing, exhilarating even, to be seen as just another person navigating the ups and downs of existence. With Daniel, I wasn't the Crown Prince or the face of a nation - I was simply a fellow human being trying to make sense of it all.
My thumb hovered over his contact, a sudden impulse to reach out directly nearly overwhelming me. What would I even say? "Hey, it's me, the guy from the forum who also happens to be next in line for the Danish throne"?
I shook my head, a wry chuckle escaping under my breath.
No, I couldn't risk revealing my true identity, not yet at least. But maybe, just maybe, there was potential for something more with Daniel.
A friendship, a confidant, someone who understood the weight of expectation and the struggle to find one's place in the world.
I settle for a simple message instead, deciding my real first name isn't a risk to share: "Let the regret begin! ?? I'm Harald by the way."
A response comes in quickly and I have to stifle another laugh at his message: "I'm Daniel. So...come here often?"
As the Energy Minister's voice rose in another impassioned plea, I slipped my phone back into my pocket, the ghost of a smile still playing on my lips.
For now, I would savor the connection we'd forged, the brief moments of levity in an otherwise heavy existence.
And perhaps, with time and trust, it could grow into something even more meaningful.
Erik
I shifted in my seat, unable to keep my eyes off Harald during the budget meeting.
The afternoon sun caught his profile, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the way his brow furrowed in concentration.
Even in moments of tedium, he carried himself with an innate grace that came from years of royal training.
The Prime Minister droned on about fiscal responsibilities while I pretended to take notes.
My pen traced meaningless patterns across the page as my thoughts wandered to forbidden territory.
The slight curl of Harald's hair at his neck.
The way his hands moved when he spoke. The rare, genuine smile that transformed his entire face.
My chest ached with the familiar weight of these feelings I'd carried for years, ever since we were just friends and teenagers.
They were as much a part of me now as breathing, and just as automatic.
I'd learned to live with them, to pack them away in a corner of my heart where they couldn't interfere with my duties.
A sudden snort of laughter broke through the monotony of the meeting. Harald's phone lay face-down on the table, but I caught the ghost of a smile playing across his lips. Something had caught him off guard – something that brought a spark of joy to his eyes I hadn't seen in months.
The coalition partners exchanged irritated glances at the interruption, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from Harald's face. Color rose in his cheeks as he composed himself and apologized, yet that light remained. Whatever message he'd received had pierced through his carefully maintained facade.
I knew his secret, carried it like a precious stone in my pocket. The weight of it grew heavier each time I watched him force himself into the mold his father demanded. But this moment – this unguarded flash of genuine happiness – made me wonder what had finally managed to crack through his walls.
The meeting dragged on, but Harald's fingers kept straying to his phone, typing what looked like a longer message.
His eyes held a warmth I hadn't seen since before his last anxiety attack, and despite the bittersweet ache in my chest, I found myself hoping that whatever – or whoever – had caused this change might help him find his way back to himself.
The meeting finally adjourned, and I watched as Harald practically leapt from his chair, his long strides carrying him out of the room before anyone else had even gathered their papers.
I took my time, nodding politely to the coalition partners and the Prime Minister as they filed out.
My mind was still back in that moment, replaying the way Harald's face had lit up at whatever message he'd received.
I made my way back to the office given to representatives of the Crown in the government buildings, my steps measured and unhurried. I knew I'd find him there, probably already engrossed in his phone. The thought made my heart clench in a familiar way, a mixture of fondness and resignation.
As I pushed open the door, I caught a glimpse of Harald's profile, his head bent over his phone as he typed furiously. The intensity of his focus was almost palpable, and I had to take a steadying breath before I could trust my voice.
"Anything interesting?" I asked, aiming for casual as I settled into my own chair across from him.
Harald's head snapped up, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes before he schooled his features into a neutral expression. "Just catching up on some messages," he said, his tone carefully even.
I nodded, pretending to shuffle through the papers on my desk. "Of course." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I swallowed them down. It wasn't my place to pry, no matter how much I longed to be the one he confided in.
As the afternoon wore on, I found my gaze drawn to him again and again. The way his fingers danced across the screen of his phone, the slight curve of his lips as he read something that pleased him. Each stolen glance was a tiny knife in my heart, a reminder of the feelings I could never voice.
I loved him. I had loved him for years, through every triumph and every struggle. But I knew, with a certainty that settled like lead in my stomach, that my love would always be unrequited. Harald was destined for greatness, for a life that had no room for a loyal secretary with a foolish heart.
So I sat, and I watched, and I ached. And I promised myself, as I had a thousand times before, that I would be content with this. With being by his side, even if I could never truly be with him. It was enough, I told myself. It had to be enough.
Harald
The comforting aroma of Ella's homemade Frikadeller meatballs wafted through the dining room as I entered, the warmth of the candlelight softening the room's grand edges. Ella bustled about, her blonde hair swishing as she set out steaming plates.
"There you are, big brother," she teased, her blue eyes sparkling. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost on your way from your royal chambers."
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. "Very funny, Ells. You know I'd never miss your cooking, even if affairs of state tried to get in the way."
She grinned, pulling out a chair for me with an exaggerated flourish. "Well then, Your Highness, please take a seat. Dinner is served."
I settled into the proffered chair, breathing in the comforting scent of the meatballs and potatoes. It smelled like home, like the rare happy memories of childhood when Mother would cook this same meal.