CHAPTER 7
Axel
A xel woke to the quiet shink of metal rings sliding across the curtain rod. Groaning, he rolled over and pulled a pillow over his face to block the beam of light stabbing his closed eyes.
“He lives,” a voice drawled from somewhere nearby.
“Go away, Tobias,” he moaned into the pillow. “And don’t come back for several hours. Or better yet, don’t come back at all.”
There was a pause, then the soft tap of a glass being set on a table. “Can’t.”
“And why not? What are you even doing here?” Axel lifted the pillow enough to glare at his friend, who was sprawled out in an armchair nearby. Tobias was rarely seen outside his home before noon.
“If I leave, the queen will come in. And she is…distressed by your behavior.”
Axel groaned again and let the pillow fall back over his face. He’d hoped for more time before he had to engage in damage control.
“What behavior?”
The scuff of the glass leaving the table was soon followed by a swallow. Throat moistened, Tobias replied, “Something about returning to the castle past your bedtime with a bottle in your hand. ”
“I don’t have a bedtime,” Axel scoffed. “Is that all?”
Snorting, Tobias said, “Staggering through the gates and barely making it to your bed without passing out isn’t enough for you?”
He hadn’t been that bad. Even with his over-acting. Although he was still wearing his clothes – he’d have to apologize to the laundress for the wrinkles in his red waistcoat.
“What else?”
“She was displeased that I couldn’t tell her where you’d been. Oh, and there’s a nasty rumor that you missed an opening night.”
Rolling onto his back, Axel crossed his arms over his forehead, smashing the pillow down.
“Where did you disappear off to?” Tobias asked, the tiniest bit of curiosity seeping into his voice.
Axel took a few moments to settle the pounding in his head enough to focus. Heaving a great sigh, he ripped the pillow off his face and tossed it to the end of his bed, where it stood on end for a moment before toppling onto the floor. He turned a half-anguished, half-awestruck face to his friend. “I met a girl last night.”
“A girl?” Tobias’s eyebrows raised a fraction. “You missed opening night for a girl ?” He gave a single shake of his head before reaching for his glass. “Must have been some girl.”
“She was. You should have seen her,” Axel said earnestly. “She beckoned to me from a side hallway as we entered, so I went to see what she wanted. Hair like the sun, eyes as green as the grass in spring; she was beautiful, Tobias.” He gave another heartfelt sigh. “We started talking, and I lost track of the time, so I missed the first curtain. Then she suggested that we explore the seasonal gardens while there was still light, and I thought, since I’d already missed part of it—why not?”
He transferred his gaze to the ceiling, continuing in his dreamy voice. “The gardens are wonderful this time of year. I couldn’t leave once the sun had set – how could I? It would have meant bidding farewell to the loveliest creature I’ve ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. So I stayed.”
Tobias gave a low whistle. “The untouchable prince has met his match. So, do I hear wedding bells?”
“Would I have imbibed to excess if that were so?” Axel retorted, dropping his dreamy aspect as he turned a glare on his friend.
“If it were celebratory.”
“It wasn’t,” he said shortly.
It was silent in the room while Tobias surveyed him thoughtfully, taking another slow sip of his drink while he considered. “I’m sorry, Axel. Unfortunately, your mother is expecting to see you at lunch, or she’ll charge in here to drag you out personally.”
“Then wake me when it’s time for lunch,” Axel grumbled, rolling over and pulling his sheets over his head.
The scrape of chair legs on the wooden floor preceded Tobias’s grunt as he hauled himself to a standing position. “It already is.”
Bother.
As the door closed lightly behind Tobias, Axel considered staying where he was. He’d stayed up much too late, and he rarely drank, so even the small amount he’d consumed had him shunning light and motion. Not his brightest cover story ever.
However, he didn’t want his mother to burst through the door to scold him. If he appeased her by appearing at the meal, she’d be quieter. And if he was in luck, his father would be, too.
Mother and Father were already seated when he walked steadily into the family dining room. He kept his smile carefully modulated, holding back a wince at the bright sun streaming through the tall windows on the opposite side of the room .
“Good m—afternoon, Mother, Father,” he greeted them pleasantly as he took his seat. Smoothly, so as not to jostle his head.
King Steffan frowned at him but withheld comment. Queen Carina sniffled and fixed him with a baleful glare. “I never thought I would discover that my son is a wastrel.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Axel said woefully, arranging his features into a repentant expression. “It was a one-time aberrance, I promise.”
“And what was the reason for this ‘one-time aberrance,’ boy?” King Steffan demanded. He made a motion to the hovering servants, and they quickly vacated the room. Reaching forward, he began serving himself from one of the dishes without taking his eyes off his son.
Axel placed one hand over his heart as he subtly angled his face away from the windows. “A foolish pursuit, Father. I admit it.”
The king circled his hand in a “keep going” motion and continued filling his plate.
“Love,” Axel replied with a heavy sigh.
His mother perked up, her eyes brightening. “Love, Axel?” After a moment, her expression darkened, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Then why did you drink yourself into a stupor?”
“It was hardly a stupor, Mother,” he said, relaxing his jaw muscles so that his mournful smile stayed natural.
“You obviously didn’t see yourself,” she grumbled.
“Alas, I fear I made a few hasty decisions after bidding her farewell.” He grimaced, lifting his spoon so that he could watch it as he slowly turned it over in his hands. “I must confess to being rather upset by the situation and attempting – unsuccessfully – to drown my grief.”
His father’s fork clanked loudly as it hit the table with more force than usual. “Have I not told you, boy, that alcohol is not—”
“Oh, hush, Steffan,” Mother interrupted, waving a dismissive hand at him. Turning back to her son, she prodded, “Why grief, Axel?”
Judging her eyes had the necessary level of compassion, he let the spoon clatter to the table, clanging against his plate on the way, and set his elbows on the table, letting his forehead droop onto his open palms. Inserting a little brokenness into his voice, he answered, “She was perfect. I was sure it was true love. And then—” His voice hitched. Out of the corner of his slitted eye, he saw his mother’s hand drift to her throat as she leaned forward, her mouth slightly open and her forehead crinkled. Perfect; now for the reveal. “And then she let it slip that she was only interested in me for my title.”
“What does that matter?” his father complained, gesturing with his fork. “If you wait until you find a woman who isn’t angling to be your queen, you will never be married. And though you seem determined to ignore it, one of your primary duties is—”
“Steffan!” the queen gasped, recovered from her momentary speechlessness at the king’s words. “Are you trying to claim that I only married you because you were a prince?”
The scowl on the king’s face melted off as he smiled at his wife. Few things drew him out of the disgruntled, angry mood into which he had sunk during the last six years, but the queen was one of them. “Of course not, my dear. Our fathers may have been interested in the political value of the union, but I know you would not have agreed unless you loved me.”
Axel took a slow, deep breath and paused to simply enjoy the peace for a few moments. He wished he understood why his father had allowed himself to be driven half-mad with grief over the loss of Helena. It was as if Axel had lost his father that day as well as his sister .
Couldn’t Father be thankful that he still had a son?
“Our son, on the other hand,” the king continued, waving a hand in Axel’s direction, “is hopeless. With his insistence on shirking his duties and spending his free time singing or haunting the theater, the chances of him finding a suitable wife who is not seeking to climb the social ladder are almost nonexistent.” He moved his focus to his son. “What was her name? If she is acceptable, there is no reason to refuse the match. Assuming you have not already ruined your chances with her.”
Carefully lifting his head, Axel said hesitantly, “She is not of the nobility.”
His father sighed and began eating again. “I should have known,” he muttered. “You couldn’t fall in love with a proper choice.” Louder, he asked, “Is she at least the daughter of one of our influential merchant families?”
“I—” Axel stopped to consider his answer. “She was at the theater. She had tickets for opening night.”
“But her father?”
“I’m not sure,” he answered cautiously, determined to maintain the ruse. “Heidi—”
“Heidi?” the queen interrupted, her eyes glowing again.
“The girl I met.”
The king rolled his hand in the familiar “get on with it” gesture. “And her father…?”
“She was with friends.” Axel’s eyes darted between his two parents. “I didn’t meet any of her family.”
“You’re telling me you spent hours with this girl, and you never asked her about her family? Nor did she ever mention them,” the king said disbelievingly. He set his fork down again to look at his son with a strange expression. “What in the heavens did you talk about then?”
Axel let a small smile play across his face and stared wistfully into the open air past his father. “What, indeed? ”
He could see his mother pressing her lips together, attempting to hide the smile curving them, while his father’s brow furrowed. After a few moments, the king cleared his throat uncomfortably. “The next time you see her, ask her about her family. Even if she is not noble, I would be willing to consider her if the connection is a suitable one.” He wore a soft expression that had been rarely seen in the last six years. “If possible, I would like to see you happy, my son.”
“Thank you, Father,” Axel replied quietly.
The king simply nodded and resumed his lunch. Now that the inquisition was finished, Axel began dishing up his own food, his movements slow but a small, hopeful smile on his face for his parents’ benefit.