Chapter Fourteen
THE NEXT MORNING he watched the plane leave, watched as Fern left. He had demanded it. And she had obeyed. And yet, even as he got what he wanted, he felt as if his chest was being split open.
He was…destroyed in a way he hadn’t thought possible.
He was ashamed of himself. Of the way that he had taken her last night. Of the way that he had taken a proclamation of love and thrown it back in her face, but he had no idea what else he was supposed to do with it.
Because it was far too terrifying. Far too powerful.
And so he had lied to her when he’d said that he couldn’t feel fear. The moment that she had said she was going to stay with him…he had felt fear like he had never known before.
Deep, unending, primal fear.
But what did life look like without her? He could do this. He could continue to rule the country exactly as he had started. But now he…he knew.
Now he knew that there was something sweeter, something happier available for him if only he wanted it.
How ridiculous that he had thought that he could be with her for two years, and simply replace her with another wife.
He would never want another woman. Not as long as he lived. How would anyone ever be like Fern?
Freya.
His goddess.
There is another way to be a warrior…
His mother’s voice echoed in his head, and he pushed it away.
Because it was far too painful.
It was far too…
It was a reminder of what love really is.
Of the fact that it didn’t have to be defined by loss.
No. He refused.
He stormed around the castle, and found it far too comfortable for his liking. Every piece of furniture so soft and inviting. Everything inside of him was breaking apart. It took hours for him to be able to sit. For him to even contemplate eating.
And then his phone rang.
It was from a number he didn’t recognize.
He answered. “Hello?”
“Hola. My name is Ricardo. You have just sent my sister to me.”
“Fern.”
“Yes. Fernanda is with me. She also tasked me with something. And even though I’m furious at you because my sister has come to me broken, she says that I still have to tell you this. I have found your father.”
He felt like he had been hit in the chest with a brick. “Explain.”
“I found your father. He’s living in a small village in Spain. New name, new identity. Lots of money. I can have him brought to you.”
“How?”
“I have my ways. But he can be taken captive, and brought to you if you like.”
“Yes. I would very much like that.”
He felt numb. His father was going to face justice.
And while nothing that happened would ever be made right, it would be… Something could be healed.
What about you?
There was something that still felt profoundly broken in him. And even as he prepared to receive the man that he hated more than any other, he felt no real triumph.
Because nothing in the past could truly be fixed.
And he had no idea what he wanted in his future.
It was world news. The former king of Asland had been found, living a secret life in Spain, and had been taken into custody. Imprisoned for crimes against his people, and also for murder.
She had been proud. Because he hadn’t simply killed his father. He had allowed justice to prevail. He would now be sharing a cell with the other man who had destroyed the country.
It was fitting.
And she still felt devastated. Lonely.
She still missed him.
She still wanted him.
But she could be glad that some part of him had found… Perhaps justice would put him on a path to healing.
Perhaps it would placate something in him.
She was sitting by the pool at her brother’s villa. She was more than one margarita into the day, and she was realizing that she needed to get herself together. She wasn’t going to sit in her heavenly plane mourning a man who wouldn’t come to her for the rest of her life.
She could at least be happy that this had given her a small chance to get to know Ricardo a little bit better.
But she had also gotten to know his current boyfriend, and she liked him very much, and if Ricardo did his typical thing and blew it all up then she was going to be cross with him.
She had told him that last night after dinner and he had only laughed.
“So I should attempt heartbreak like you?”
“You should not be an idiot like my husband. If you have a good thing you should keep it.”
He hadn’t been amused by that.
She took another sip of her margarita and looked out at the pool.
“You should slow down on those,” said her brother, meandering near her lounge chair.
“Why? It’s more fun than thinking.”
“I agree. But you are much smarter than I am. You also engineered justice that was long overdue. Not something I would’ve done.”
“You did help.”
“I did. Though I confess it was not initially out of the goodness of my heart. Just guilt.”
“Some would suggest that your capacity for guilt means that you do have a good heart.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Vincenzo certainly seems to think you have a good heart.”
“That’s not what he likes.”
“I disagree.”
“Excuse me.”
They both turned to see Vincenzo standing in the doorway. For a second, she was worried that he had overheard them.
“You seem to have a visitor,” he said.
She and Ricardo exchanged glances. “I’m not expecting anyone,” he said.
“I believe it’s your sister’s husband. I recognize him from all the recent news.”
Her heart leaped up into her throat. She could scarcely believe it.
And then there he was, as if he had been summoned. Entirely incongruous in this sun-drenched setting, an ice-cold Viking, and her in a bikini.
She stood up slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to thank you. And your brother. For what you have done not just for me but for my country.”
Of course. He would be noble in the face of all of this. She didn’t want nobility. She didn’t want a consolation prize.
What she wanted was him. But she needed that to be love. Not just desire.
“I did it for my sister,” Ricardo said, colder than Ragnar at this point, which was impressive, honestly.
He gestured to Vincenzo, and the two of them went into the house. Leaving her and Ragnar alone.
“I contacted Ricardo about finding your father before I was sent away.”
“Does that mean you wouldn’t have done it?”
“I would have. It was the right thing to do. I knew that he would be able to help. He’s very well-connected.”
“I thought your whole family was worthless?”
“Not all of them. Something I’m discovering is that we were all raised by our father. And we have all made mistakes as a result of that. But not all of my brothers are proud of those mistakes.”
“That is healing, I imagine.”
“And what about you?” She looked at him directly. “Do you feel healed? Now that you know the truth?”
He shook his head slowly. “It was the right thing. But you know, a narcissist will always tell you that he did what he had to. He is incapable of being a villain in his own mind. There is nothing satisfying in talking to my father. He expressed pride that I lived. And in many ways I feel takes credit for it. There is no remorse. There is no satisfaction. It is only a tragedy, and we all must live in the aftermath. The only tragedy for him is that the end of his triumph is here. But there is no real…feeling.”
“I’m sorry. I am sorry about all of it.”
“Fern I… I need you to forgive me. There is so much about being human that I don’t understand.”
His words were soft, slow. It was all very unlike him. Her heart sped up, and then slowed down. “What do you mean?”
“You are right. I saw myself and you as symbols. And I began to make progress, but that progress felt too intense, and so I pulled away. That progress was what knocked the walls down inside of me and brought my memories back. It’s why I ran from you.
Why I turned away so resolutely. Because being with you made me feel safe for the first time in years.
And that was what brought those memories out.
I… I built a wall around them when I was a child.
I didn’t want to know that my father did that.
I didn’t want to remember what had happened to my mother.
Or that he wanted me gone. It was easier.
To survive. As long as I believed that the villain had come from outside of our family. I couldn’t handle the truth.”
“Few people could. It’s a monstrous thing to have to face. It’s… Few people could’ve survived what you did. You did what you had to do.”
“Yes, I did. But somewhere along the line, I was okay. I just didn’t feel like I was. I forgot that I was doing more than surviving. It’s the only thing I know how to do. I do not know how to live, Fern. Except… I kept remembering that my mother is the one that told me the story about Freya.”
“And what did she tell you?”
“The reason that some warriors don’t go to Valhalla is because they choose a different path.
They fight for love and not glory. They fight for love most of all, above honor, above country.
She cared about that. It was what she wanted me to know.
Because I think…my father wanted his own glory.
He spoke of Valhalla. My mother… She wanted me to love.
And all of these years took that away from me.
That understanding. That story. You brought it back. ”
“I did?”
“Yes. You did.”
“I still love you, you know,” she said. “It didn’t go away just because you weren’t ready.”
“Oh, Fern.” He moved forward and touched her face.
“I am grateful for that. I am so much more than grateful. Because I want to change. I want to learn to live. But I’m going to need you to do it.
I… I think I love you. For all that it’s worth, coming from a man who has spent his life building walls around his heart. ”
She moved forward, and gripped his hand. “That means even more.”
It was like their wedding, except there was no cloth binding their hands together. It was only them. Only their choice. Only their love.
“Would you come with me?” he said. “Please.”
“Yes,” she said.
He took her hand, and led her through the house. Her brother and Vincenzo were sitting on a chaise, and watched as they went past.
“I’m going with him,” she said. “Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”
“I expect an invitation to a party,” Ricardo said. “And,” he added, “if you break my sister’s heart, King Ragnar, there is no corner of this earth that will be able to conceal you. Remember, I found your father.”
“I’m not my father,” Ragnar said. “I stand and fight my battles.”
“Even if you’re a little late,” Ricardo pointed out.
And Ragnar surprised her by laughing. Really laughing. Perhaps the first real laugh she had ever heard from the man. “Yes,” he agreed. “I was a little late indeed.”
He opened the front door for her, and for a moment she thought she was hallucinating. Because there was a horse. His horse, in fact, right outside.
“You brought your horse?”
“Yes. I bring him to every important battle. I would never trust myself if I left him behind.”
“Are you superstitious?”
“Yes. I told you. I believe in trolls and giants. And luck.”
He mounted his horse, and extended his hand. She accepted, and he pulled her up onto the steed, nestled right at his front. It was so very different to that first time. Where he had run her down in the field. This time, she was going very much willingly.
“I also believe in Freya,” he whispered against her ear. “And I worship at her altar. And will, for the rest of my life.”
He didn’t need to say it. She knew that it was true.
He was driven by love. Whether he knew it or not, he always had been. The love for his people, the love for a mother that he had lost.
And now, his love for her. He had never been a man who felt too little. Only a man who felt too much.
But now all that feeling had somewhere to go.
Now, he wasn’t alone anymore.
She looked back at him, into those brilliant blue eyes.
Blue, as far she could see. Wild, untamed.
And in his eyes, she saw the future. Their future. Their love, their marriage, their children.
Forever.
And in his arms, she finally felt like herself.
Fern.
His chosen queen, who had absolutely chosen him back.
Keep reading for an excerpt from BODYGUARD’S ROYAL TEMPTATION by Abby Green.