Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
To his credit, Mads has made himself scarce. With Stef in the kitchen, we watch the skies shift pink to purple in the twilight as I cook our dinner. Outside, the cicadas continue to hum in the lingering heat. Stef stands beside me at the island, his arm around me, chin on my shoulder. I kiss him.
We’re in shorts and unbuttoned shirts, blissed-out, but it’s bittersweet. We’re carefully not talking about him leaving tonight. Not yet. I make a tomato salad while he pours the wine.
“My parents are here, at the flat. And Spiros, my youngest brother,” Stef explains over his wine, as I take the pan-seared whitefish fillets to the dining table. “Summer holidays.”
“Right, okay.” I nod as he brings the salad over.
With one last trip for our wineglasses, we settle at the table to take in the view. Well, he takes in the view outside, and for my part, I take in the gloriously disheveled sight of him.
“They always come stay in Kerkyra in the summer for a couple of weeks at least. At least once. If it’s only once, they come for the month.
Usually August, though that may depend on what else is happening in the summer.
” His lips flicker into a wry smile. “Also, he’s buying a new yacht this week.
Well, a new-to-him yacht. It’s a couple of years old.
He’s here early because of my coast guard follow-up about the old yacht. ”
“Sorry.”
Stef waves me off. “Stop it. We’ve been over this.”
“Yeah, well. I’m sure the property loss doesn’t have your father thinking kindly of me. Even if he doesn’t know the rest.”
“I don’t know.” Stef, as ever, is very diplomatic.
“Anyway, aren’t they going to wonder where you’re off to all day?”
He shrugs. “I have friends here. I told them I was going out to meet up with them, which isn’t unusual.”
“Okay.” My shoulders ease. “I feel bad taking you from your family.”
Stef laughs, giving me a knowing look. “I have free will, you know, and agency too, for that matter.”
I give him a sheepish grin. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Tomorrow, I’m meant to go with my father to visit the new yacht together. He’s like a child at Christmas.” He smiles.
I nod, ignoring the pang inside me, knowing he’ll be gone after the meal.
We work on our meal. The fish was caught earlier that day, the tomatoes so fresh they burst sweet and salty on our tongues.
Best of all is having Stef here greedily to myself, even if it is stolen time.
At least I’ve told him how I feel. And… I know how he feels. Even if everything remains impossible.
For dessert, we follow with ice cream in crunchy waffle cones, eaten as we sit with our feet dangling in the infinity pool, side by side.
“Imagine if we could do this every day,” I whisper, glancing at him with longing. I shake my head, then gaze out over the blue of the infinity pool glowing at night.
“Mm.” Stef kisses my cheek, his lips cold from the ice cream. “If only.”
We’re quiet once we finish the ice cream, gazing out over the water and the nighttime view of the bay and the lights below and across.
“How’s the archaeology?” I ask at last, giving him a sidelong glance as we sit in the fading light. “And the digging?”
“I applied to grad school,” he offers. “To a few different universities. Betters my odds of getting in.”
“Who would have the nerve to turn you down?” I ask, indignant at the very idea.
Stef laughs with delight. He rubs my foot with his in the water. “You’d be surprised. Anyway, I’ve sent all of the applications. And I worked for two months on a dig this year, which helps.”
“That’s really great, Stef.” I smile at him.
“And I’ve got more work lined up too. In the lab, after our work at Aigio on the northern Peloponnese. A few more weeks, anyway, after my parents leave.”
I nod.
“We were working on the lost city of Rhypes. Before the Romans sacked it. We’ve found tombs with grave goods and Corinthian columns and statues too.”
“Wow. That’s really cool.”
“Yeah. It is.” Stef flashes a sudden smile at me, and I want to kiss him right then.
His fingers brush mine.
I lean in, brushing his warm lips with my own.
I shiver as our kisses deepen. Before long, we’re stumbling back inside again, picking up where we left off earlier, now damp from the pool.
We fumble with clothes till they fall to the floor, and we tumble onto the bed, laughing.
We’re greedy for each other, until Stef eventually collapses against my chest, his head on my shoulder.
I hold him close, breathing in the scent of his hair.
We fall asleep, entangled. Then, everything turns strange with long shadows, and everything’s going wrong again. Papa’s died, and Freja tells me in the next breath I’m the new King, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I’m headed straight to the coronation from my father’s funeral.
I don’t even have time to change or breathe, and I get the security briefing in the car on how to handle the public presentation of me as the new Danish King.
It’s a direct beeline from Father’s grave to the palace.
I have soil from his burial on my hands and under my nails.
At the palace, en route to the balcony for my public address, my speechwriter hands me the written speech I’m meant to give, something I’ve never read before.
It’s written in Danish, but it could be ancient Greek for all I know.
The words swim on the page, incomprehensible.
And then, I open the double doors wide and walk out onto the balcony to give my speech as the new King. Except my voice is gone. And outside, it’s people as far as I can see, gathered for my address. It’s a deathly silent crowd.
Gasping, I can’t breathe.
The next thing I know, when I’ve got some awareness, is that I’ve screamed myself awake, terrified. And I have a distant feeling it was a scream loud enough to wake the dead.
Stef’s shaking my shoulder, trying to get me to wake up. I stare up at Stef. His eyes are huge. His lips are moving. I don’t hear him amid my shouting, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, reality and nightmares.
“I’m not ready—I can’t do this—” I cry out in Danish, gasping, raw. In my dream, I beg my father not to die. To not leave us. To tell Freja she must be Queen. That I’m not cut out to become the new King. But in my dream, Papa tells me I must. And he walks away as I call after him.
Stef shakes me harder, leaning over me. “Theo! Please!”
“I don’t know how—”
“Theo!” Stef yells. “Wake up!”
Which is when Mads bursts in with another guard, and they pounce on Stef as if he’s murdering me for real.
Mads rips Stef from me and pins him immediately against the mattress.
The other guard takes over holding him down.
With Stef secured, Mads turns to me. He glowers down, his gaze piercing, but concern flickers across his strong features.
As Mads grabs me to sit up, I come back to my senses. His fingers dig into my biceps, and I feel acutely embarrassed to have woken up like this. Again. Mads doesn’t get paid enough for my night terrors, of that much I’m certain.
“Theodor,” he says, his tone crisp.
And now I’m truly awake, gasping, adrenaline ricocheting through my body.
“Mads! It’s fine,” I cry out thickly, reaching for Stef. “Please.”
Mads nods at the other guard, who releases Stef at last. It all feels like an eternity or three, but it’s only been a few seconds. Maybe a minute, at most. Mads says something into his watch, presumably to the rest of my security detail in the perimeter of the property.
Stef shifts, brushing the guards off as if he hadn’t just been manhandled. He sits up in bed too, touching my arm. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
Mads hovers, studying me closely. “Theo.” Slightly less gruff this time.
“I just—it was another bad dream,” I admit, my face burning. “I’m so sorry.”
Stef strokes my cheek. My face is damp with tears.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell them both. “Honestly.”
“I’ll put the kettle on for you in case you want tea,” Mads tells me, not unkindly, though he still frowns with concern. I feel rotten for startling him again and provoking yet another full security response in the middle of the night.
After I nod at Mads, he leaves the room only after another long, intent look at me with the other guard, shutting the door behind him, satisfied I’m not in danger. And that Stef’s not murdering me.
While I shake.
“It was only a nightmare,” Stef murmurs, pulling me close, covering my face with kisses. “Some nightmare, though. What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I say, unsteady. “I keep having these dreams. Where I lose control. I keep scaring Mads and the guards.”
Stef gives me a sympathetic look. “You keep having the same dream?”
“Something like that.”
“And you always wake up yelling?” he asks, incredulous.
“Yeah, lately,” I confess, embarrassed I keep shouting in my sleep, alarming everyone around me. Where everything’s out of my control again.
“Fuck, Theo. How long’s this been happening?”
“Since… moving back to Copenhagen. It got worse.”
Stef nods slowly, then kisses me. “Everything happened so fast,” he says sympathetically. “It’s a shock. You haven’t really had time to adjust.”
“And Papa’s usually there in my dream, watching, and Mamma too, and things keep going wrong and they’re upset. Because I’ve disappointed them.” I gaze at him. Admitting my fears is like a wound.
Stef draws me into his arms, settling against the headboard.
I swallow hard, shaking my head, leaning into Stef. “It’s silly, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think so.” His hand runs along my shoulder comfortingly. “It’s a lot of pressure. You should talk to someone about this. A therapist.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Seriously,” Stef encourages. “It’s important. It’s understandable why you’d have anxiety. But it doesn’t mean you should struggle alone.”
“I suppose you’re right.” With a deep breath, I try to relax into his embrace, pillowing my head against his shoulder.
There’s comfort in having him so close. If only it were forever.
“And, well, it’s about the time of the first anniversary of my father’s death last year.
” Which means it’s almost my birthday too, but I don’t mention it, not wanting Stef to fuss. He’s already got more than a lot on.
“I’m so sorry about your father. I can’t imagine.”
“Just… I know you must leave soon, and it’s late, but don’t go quite yet?” I whisper. I want as much time with him as possible.
“Of course. And really, this is all so much. And I definitely can’t imagine it all at once.”
The truth is, neither can I. Following Papa’s path and the high bar he set isn’t going to be an easy one.
He was a well-respected king, practically scandal-free, too, during his reign.
And now I’m going to have to level up to not disappoint his memory.
Call up the remnants of discipline I had drilled into me from my military service nearly ten years ago.
And forget all about being the former disaster prince.
Stef goes out to make us tea. He brings us mugs of tea, and we sit up in bed.
Mads has made me tea a couple of times since I’ve come out there when I wake from my nightmares, without being asked.
From what I can tell, he has a latent paternal side that comes out in these moments when I’m at my lowest. He’s told me he has two sons around my age.
That’s all he’s revealed about his own life to me, and that I remind him a little of his own family.
We soon shift to sleep, and Stef rubs my back to comfort me.
“If only we could be like this forever,” I say sleepily. “Where I’m not King, and we can be together. Just like everyone else.”
“I want that too,” Stef whispers back, giving me a kiss. “To be together.”
Eventually, we drowse again, our limbs entwined, skin to skin. Stef’s still here. With me. Like a dream—but the best kind this time. Even if we’re back to pretending again, only for a night.
“Je t’aime,” I murmur sleepily on his chest. Stef smooths my back once more. “Et je te veux.”
I love you. And I want you.
At last, I fully close my eyes, comforted by Stef’s nearness. Maybe I’m dreaming again, but I swear I hear him whisper, “Je te veux aussi, mon amour,” as I drift off to sleep again.
I want you too, my love.