Royal Reluctance (Love in Laandia #4)

Prologue

Eight Years Ago …

Once upon a time, a prince went to talk to his queen.

But this isn’t a fairy tale. At least it doesn’t start out as one. Because if this was a fairy tale, I shouldn’t be so nervous about talking to my mother.

All the happiness of the last two days disappears as soon as I enter the castle.

The last place I want to be is here, but if my father taught us anything, it was duty. And to take responsibility for your actions.

That was what I was here to do. To confess and take responsibility.

Standing in front of the door of her sitting room, I lift my hand to knock, then pause. This is my mother, I tell myself. But she’s also the queen of Laandia. And I am Prince Bowden Eugene Jerome Leif Erickson—third son of King Magnus and Queen Selene.

And mother or queen, I know she’s going to be pissed off with what I’m about to tell her.

I don’t have the dumb luck or blind faith of Gunnar or Lyra, the certainty that whatever they try, it’ll all work out. I lack the intelligent rationale of Odin that helps with the knowledge that mistakes can always be fixed. I especially don’t have the straight-up courage of Kalle, because knowing you’re going to be king someday takes a special kind of bravery.

I may not have the traits my siblings do, but still, not a lot scares me.

My mother does.

And I know that if anyone else was about to tell her what I have to tell her, they would be terrified too.

I steel my nerves, fist my hand and knock twice on the door. “Come in,” Queen Selene calls.

Deep breath… and go.

My mother sits on one of the delicate wing chairs that flank one of the fifteen huge fireplaces in the castle. The chairs are a cause for concern for me and my brothers because they really don’t look strong enough to hold a male of our height and weight.

They birth them big here in Laandia.

My mother smiles as I enter; smiles with her eyes and her mouth and looks like I am her very favourite person. I’m not—Mom loves me as much as she loves my brothers and Lyra, but it’s just the way she smiles at everyone, from Duncan, Dad’s right-hand man, to the castle chef and even that obnoxious buffoon of a man running America.

She smiles at my father a little differently. And my father still looks at her like she’s the only woman in the world. It’s nice to see; together for twenty-five years and more in love than when they met.

Which isn’t hard since it was kind of an arranged marriage. Magnus needed a wife; Selene wasn’t thrilled about the coupling but didn’t have much choice in the matter .

It all worked out and quickly turned into a love match, one that is celebrated all over Laandia. It’s the kind of marriage I want. The love match, not the arranged marriage.

“Bowden,” my mother says in that way she has that makes you believe everything is going to be okay. My little sister Lyra has the same gift. “What’s up?”

Mom is the only one who calls me Bowden. To the rest of the family, Laandia, and even the world, I’m Prince Bo.

Newly anointed People Magazine's Sexiest Man of the Year.

I bring that up because the magazine is right there on the table beside Mom’s chair, as if she was perusing it and put it down when I knocked.

My face heats again , like it’s been doing since the stupid issue came out. Nobody should want their mom to see pictures like that. Plus, I have no clue why they picked me over my brothers. Or anyone else in the world. “You can throw that out, you know,” I mutter.

“Oh, no.” Mom laughs as she taps the glossy cover. “I’m going to frame it. ‘Sweet, Stoic and Sexy—What Really Goes on in the Forests of Laandia?’” Her blue eyes twinkle with delight as she recites the copy from memory. “Your brothers are never going to let you live this down.”

“I know.”

“Poor Bo.” And she laughs again.

But the headline on the magazine brings back a wave of unease. Things do go on in the forest, and I’m here to tell my mother about them.

Not all of them, just the most important one .

Mom’s smile drops into a frown. “Is this about more than the magazine? I didn’t expect you back for another few days. Did something happen in Wabush?”

The royal family has a hunting lodge in the forest, halfway across Laandia. As soon as I could make the trip—first making the eight-hour drive with Kalle, and then getting my pilot’s license at seventeen so I could fly—I would disappear into the woods for as long as duty let me.

I rub the back of my neck. “I gotta talk to you.”

“Then you better come and talk then.” She motions to the couch beside her. “But I have to warn you, I need to leave in a few minutes to pick up Lyra.”

“I can wait,” I say automatically. That might be better because I have no idea how I’m going to get the words out. How is it possible that talking to my own mother is more difficult than talking to that reporter for the magazine?

She studies me carefully. “No, I don’t think you can. What is it, Bo? Did something happen?”

“It’s about Hettie.”

I don’t recognize the flash that crosses her face. My mother assured me she’s happy that I’m with Hettie, but there’s no ignoring the chaos of the Crow family. If I were a regular guy, I could fall in love with whomever I wanted to, but because I’m a prince, there’s so many things to consider.

Not that Mom would ever bring them up, but everyone in Battle Harbour is well aware of Hettie’s two brothers in jail, her uncle who protests everything Dad stands for, and a grandmother who refuses to seek help for substance abuse and would rather live on the streets of nearby Mary’s Harbour than let anyone help her.

Mom would never say anything, but Hettie would—and has, on many occasions. It took me nearly a year to get her to agree to go out with me. Even now, she still reminds me how we shouldn’t be together, how it looks bad for the royal family.

I tell her I don’t care. I love my family, but I would rather be anything other than a prince.

“How is Hettie?” Mom asks politely. Hettie has refused every invitation to the castle, so Mom has never met her. Not officially, anyway. Not as my girlfriend. And not as my—

“She’s good.” I press my palms on my knees and take a deep breath. “I married her.”

The tick of the clock is the only sound in the room. Mom sets her tea cup gently on the coffee table before responding. “I’m sorry?”

“We got married.”

A deep inhale. “Bo… Okay. When?”

“Two days ago.”

Her face is expressionless and I know she’s in queen mode, not mother mode. Which is better because I’d much rather disappoint Queen Selene than my mom. “Was it a real wedding?” she asks.

I frown at the question. “What do you mean? I said ‘I do.’ So did she.”

“Who did you say it in front of?”

“A justice of the peace.” I pause again. “And Spencer.”

“Then it’s legal.” I can’t read anything on her face. Is she furious? About to throw me from the room? Call for my father, which would be better because he’ll be much easier to tell.

Spencer, the lawyer-to-be, has followed in his father’s footsteps in protecting the royal family and already makes it a point to ensure i’s were dotted and t’s were crossed. Although many would say letting me go through with a wedding to Hettie Crow isn’t really protecting the family. “It’s legal,” I say gruffly. “She’s my wife.”

Even saying the words brings about a rush of happiness. It also brings on another wave of terror, but still—happy. About my wife.

Hettie is my wife.

“Why?” Queen Selene? Or maybe this is Mom.

I’m not sure because there’s real distress in her voice. I knew Mom would be angry but that she’d eventually understand—because she always understood. “I love her,” I say because there’s no other reason. I love Hettie. Hettie loves me. Marrying her was the one way I could show her that she truly mattered to me, that she was my life.

She’s the most important thing in the world to me and now everyone will know.

“I know, Bo, but why not get engaged, get used to the idea of a future with her? This is such a big step.”

“I didn’t want to wait. Her brother is in trouble again—she was going to leave me and I couldn’t let that happen. And I didn’t want a big wedding. A royal wedding. I can’t handle that.”

“Oh, my sweet Bo.” Mom—not Queen Selene—shakes her head. “You can handle more than you think you can. Being part of this family isn’t the prison sentence you make it out to be.”

“I don’t like it,” I mutter.

“Neither does anyone else,” she admits with a rueful smile. “Except maybe Gunnar likes the attention. You learn to deal with it, rather than go into hiding. You were born into this family, and while you had no choice in that, your father and I have given you many choices in how to deal with the attention and the responsibilities. We’ve never forced anything on you.” She taps the magazine again. “You dealt with this, so don’t tell me you can’t do anything.”

“That’s not the same. How could I say no?”

“Thank you, but no,” Mom says quickly. “You didn’t even tell anyone until it was published, so there was no way we could prepare you for it. You must be going crazy with the attention. Duncan can help.”

She does have a point. I’ve turned my phone off because of the constant calls from friends and strangers alike, all wanting a comment. And it would have been nice to have been prepared for the media storm, but that’s on me because I never mentioned the magazine had even contacted me until a few days before the issue was published.

The same way I never told anyone of my plans to marry Hettie, not until it was too late and there was nothing anyone could do.

Mom sighs. “You really married her?”

I nod, shoulders hunched. “I love her,” I say helplessly.

“Well, that’s good because you’ve made this very difficult for yourselves. The press…” She shakes her head and stands. “I’m sorry, but I need to get Lyra. We’ll talk about this when I get back. And we’re going to have to tell your father.”

“I know.”

“I have no idea what he’ll say.” Mom stares out the window at the icy rain that falls in sheets. The weather had been a beautiful early October day when we left Wabush this morning, but the storm had blown in arrived soon after, along with a cold front blowing down from the Arctic. Snow and ice are expected tonight, which means I won’t be heading back with Hettie .

I stand as she moves toward the door and Mom touches my arm with a tired smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Make sure you’re still here, please. No flying tonight.”

I nod.

Only my mother never came back.