Chapter Nineteen #3
“Yes, well, there are some things that are suitable for reconsideration, while there are some things that stand well as they are,” Magnus announced while dropping some oyster crackers into the thick, fishy soup that had been gingerly laid before us.
“Magnus, please,” Queen Linnea whispered as a log crackled in the fireplace, sending sparks up the flue. “Surely that can be discussed later in private.”
Anders’ attention flew from his brother and lady wife to his father.
The room grew uncomfortably quiet. Like that span of time when a thunderstorm is headed your way and nature goes silent to brace for the impact.
It felt like that, only more ominous. I snuck a glance at Gilda.
Her eyes were as round as her soup bowl.
“That comment felt quite pointed,” Anders said, laying down his soup spoon to level accusatory eyes on his father. “Is there something in particular that you wish to address, Father?”
“Magnus, please, can we just enjoy this little holiday meal with all the boys in peace?” Queen Linnea asked. Magnus, it seemed, cared little for a peaceful meal.
“Would you like to deny or confirm that you were seen in our capital holding hands with a man in public?” Magnus asked but surely, he already knew the answer.
Anders squared his shoulders.
“Father,” Frode interjected before his youngest brother opened his mouth. “Are we truly going to spoil this night over something as insipid as two people holding hands?”
“Oh no, Frode, let him speak. Let the whole family get to witness the hatred that our father has for his youngest son,” Anders barked, and everyone gasped.
“Anders, please, your father doesn’t hate you,” the queen said as she reached for her wineglass. “To say such a thing is just ridiculous.”
“Is it? Tell me, has he called out anyone else here at the table for being seen holding hands with their chosen partners in public?” Anders asked as he glared at the king.
“Your brothers have never acted out so rudely.” Magnus threw his last cracker into his soup, sending droplets of white creamy sauce to the crisp blue tablecloth.
Anders laughed hard. “Oh, that’s incredibly rich. Shall we discuss that time just last summer that Harold was seen naked with that model in Zandvoort after his Formula 1 race?”
“She was a stunning vixen,” Harold slid into the brewing storm. Magnus and his wife were not amused, but Harold seemed to be. My stomach was churning heavily now, the soup forgotten as I flattened my lips.
“Harold, that is not helping,” Queen Linnea chided. The two servants filling water glasses faded into the shadows. Wished I could do the same.
“So, Father, tell me, was that episode not rude? The world saw his—”
“Anders!” Magnus shouted, causing Lady Alva to startle. “Your mother and several ladies are seated at this table. Show some damn respect!”
“You show me some respect! You’re going on as if Mitchell and I had sex at the feet of the statue of Saint Bjarke. All we did was hold hands as we visited a few shops,” Anders argued back.
“That is enough of that kind of deviant talk!” the king bellowed, slamming his hand onto the table hard enough to make the water glasses jump. “Your mother will not be subjected to such vile imagery. You always overreact to any situation that involves your chosen sexuality.”
“People don’t choose their sexuality, Father,” Ivar stated with vigor. Magnus rolled his eyes. “No, tell me, did you choose to be straight? Obviously not. And Anders did not choose to be gay. This old-fashioned homophobia is why—”
“Ivar, I am not homophobic. I simply do not wish to have my family shamed for the unholy actions of my youngest son,” Magnus snapped.
“I asked a simple question and, as always, your brother leapt to a conclusion. If he were to engage in that kind of behavior outside the castle, then I would ask him to cease. Just as I would ask him to ensure that his guests are seated away from the first three pews at the baptism tomorrow to ensure proper decorum.”
“That’s outlandish!” Anders snapped, shooting to his feet. “Did you ask anyone else to stuff their plus ones into a corner?!”
“None of your brothers will be bringing a—” Magnus came up short.
“A what, Father? Please, say it out loud.”
“I think this discussion needs to end,” the king said stiffly. Gilda was teary-eyed. I slipped my hand into hers under the table. She latched onto my fingers with a death grip. “I’ve made my wishes known.”
Anders stared hard at his father. “You and this country need to step out of the dark ages. I will either sit with Mitchell at my side or I will skip the baptism.”
Linnea turned a sharp eye to her husband. “Magnus, Anders is right. You’re being an ass.”
“The people of ?stermon look to me to ensure values are adhered to,” Magnus replied, calmly now, but the anger was simmering just below the surface. His color was quite high yet. “If I do not follow the teachings of the church and the past, what hope is there for the future?”
“And that is why when I sit upon the throne, the first law that I will place before the legislature is marriage equality,” Frode announced to a table of stunned diners.
“I’m done. You do what you feel is best, Father.
I’ll not be treated like a leper at my own nephew’s baptism.
If Mitchell is not seated with me in our pews tomorrow, I will pack my bags so you’ll not have to gaze on my queer face any longer.
The choice is yours.” He looked at his mother.
“I’m sorry for ruining your lovely meal, Mother. ”
With that, Anders left the dining room, closing the door with great grace. Surely, he would have liked to slam it shut, but he walked out with dignity.
“I think we should go check on Anders,” I said after a moment, standing and pulling Gilda to her shiny new shoes. She didn’t balk or fight leaving. “Thank you for the soup.”
I bowed quickly to the table and led my daughter out into the hallway where she began to cry earnestly.
“Are we leaving already?” she asked between sobs. I pulled her into my arms and just held her as the two security guards stood stoically on either side of a door that might just blow off its hinges given how much yelling was taking place on the other side. The queen, the loudest of all.
“I don’t know, sugar, but let’s go to our rooms and change.”
Dinner was pretty much a done deal.
We were escorted back to our rooms. I took note that Arne stood outside Anders’ doorway down the corridor.
“Would you like me to come in and keep you company?” I asked Gilda but got a shake of her head. “Are you sure? You seemed upset just a few minutes ago.”
“I was, but I think Anders probably needs you to talk to him more. I’m cool.
The queen told me I could call the kitchens, and they’d send something up whenever, so I’m like going to get a hot fudge sundae and sort through my packages.
Take some selfies. If you do talk to Anders, can you ask him to not leave yet? I know that’s really greedy of me.”
“It’s not greedy at all. I’m sure that Anders knows how much you want to explore ?stermon and won’t leave the island already.
” She seemed unsure but nodded very maturely, her eyes still bloodshot from her crying jag.
“I’ll certainly discuss it with him, but if he does decide to return to the States that’s understandable, huh?
” I chucked her chin up gently with my finger.
“Yeah, the king is a real dick,” she whispered. I cough/laughed. There was no arguing that point. King Magnus had been a royal prick. “Go talk to him. I’m tired and need sweets.”
Like mother, like daughter. I kissed her forehead and waited outside her door until she was inside and the lock had clicked. Drawing in a deep breath, I padded down the hall, Arne watching me closely as I neared.
“Is he in there?” I enquired and got a nod. “Can I go in to talk to him?”
“He didn’t say you couldn’t.” With that, he reached back to open the door.
I thanked him softly and slipped inside.
His suite was richly appointed. Della was sleeping on the bed on a pink duvet just her size.
She lifted her head as I came in, gave me a sullen wag, and then rested her chin on her front paws.
It’s said that dogs can sense sadness in their humans.
I gave her a tiny pat and made my way to the French double doors to see Anders standing out on the patio, snow particles swirling around him, looking every inch a Nordic prince with his chin held high as he stared into the cold winds.
I opened the door, stepped outside, and wished I’d thought to grab a coat. It was freezing out here. Anders pulled his sight from the mountains to gaze at me.
“Have I ruined everything for Gilda?” he asked as he opened his arms for me.
I plastered myself to him, cinching him tight. “No, she’s just confused by the upset. We have a pretty placid house. I’m not sure she has ever seen such a showdown between family members. She’ll be fine. She is worried that you’re going to leave but understands if you do.”
His inhale was huge as was his exhale. “We’re not leaving ?stermon.
I am taking you and Gilda to our summer house along the southern shore.
I can’t reside here knowing how he feels about me, about us, about our relationship.
I will not hide us, and I will not allow Gilda to be exposed to such hateful talk. ”
“Okay, that’s fine. As long as I’m with you and Gilda, I’m happy.” I burrowed into his embrace. He rested his brow against mine as we took several long breaths. “Why are you out here in the cold?”
“Ah.” He turned us a little, just enough to see the vague outline of mountains lit by a half-moon of brightest white.
“If you climb to the top of Frossard Crag, which is the name of the highest peak in the ?stermon Range, you’ll come across a statue of a dragon, brass and weathered with age.
It has sat there for hundreds of years, crafted by a metalworker in the capital in homage to the ice dragons of legend.
The chest of the dragon is buffed and shiny as every person who scales the peak—and there are hiking trails and a tram so many people visit now—can make a wish as they rub the chest of Cryos.
I was just planning a trip up there with you and Gilda before we go south.
Then I could rub the mighty frost dragon’s chest and wish for a father who loved me as I am. ”
Words failed me, so I simply held him closer as the icy winds railed around us.