Chapter 30
30
TORE
Watching someone else sleep was perhaps a tad creepy, but I couldn’t help myself. He’d still been asleep when I woke up, not even stirring when I got up to relieve myself, then snuck back into bed. He must’ve been exhausted.
And now I lay in bed on my side, staring at him. I’d missed him so much that I had to take my fill of him. I suspected this deep incredulity that he was here and that we were together for real now would last a while. I still couldn’t believe this incredible man was mine, that he’d chosen me despite our differences.
He loved me.
Farron loved me.
And gods, I was in love with him. Seeing him again had only confirmed that. I was watching him sleep, for goodness’ sake. That was about as infatuated as a person could get, no?
I couldn’t resist tracing my fingers along the defined muscles of his chest, marveling at how perfectly he fit against me. His eyes fluttered open, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Good morning,” I murmured, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss—morning breath be damned.
Farron’s strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer as he deepened the kiss. His tongue teased mine, igniting a familiar heat in my core. I tangled my fingers in his dark hair, relishing the silky strands against my skin.
“Mmm, now that’s a wake-up call.” Farron chuckled, his voice still husky with sleep. His calloused hands roamed my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
I peppered kisses along his jaw, savoring the slight scratch of stubble. “I’ve missed this,” I breathed against his neck. “Missed you.”
Farron tilted my chin, his brown eyes intense as they met mine. “Me too, Tore. These past few weeks apart were torture.”
My heart swelled at his words. “Same.”
As much as I wanted to stay cooped up with Farron all day, we were on a bit of a schedule, unfortunately. With a reluctant sigh, I pulled back slightly. “As much as I’d love to keep you in this bed forever, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you today.”
Farron quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? And where might that be?”
I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous. “Well, I was hoping you might like to meet my parents. They’re eager to meet the man who’s stolen my heart.”
I had texted them yesterday after Farron had fallen asleep, letting them know where I was. Not that they wouldn’t know otherwise, as my phone had a tracker on it, but still. Common courtesy and all that.
They’d invited us over for breakfast, which meant we’d need to leave in less than half an hour. Not ideal, but since both had obligations throughout the rest of the day, it was the only opportunity we’d get.
Farron’s eyes widened, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “Your parents?”
I cupped his cheek, wanting to soothe his apprehension. “I promise they’ll adore you as much as I do.”
Farron bit his lip, a habit I found utterly endearing. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m not exactly…” He gestured vaguely at himself.
“You’re exactly who I want,” I assured him firmly. “My parents will see that. They just want me to be happy, and you make me happier than I’ve ever been.”
A slow smile spread across Farron’s face, chasing away the last traces of doubt. “Well, when you put it like that… I guess I better make myself presentable to meet royalty, huh?”
I laughed, pulling him in for another kiss. “You’re perfect as you are. Though perhaps we should both shower first.”
Farron’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Care to join me? Conserve water and all that.”
As if I could resist such a tempting offer. I let Farron lead me to the bathroom, my heart light with anticipation for the day ahead.
* * *
By the time we approached the grand oak doors of my family’s Oslo residence, Farron’s nerves had returned in full force. I took his hand and threaded our fingers together in a quiet show of support.
“Ready?” I asked, glancing at Farron. His face was a mix of awe and trepidation as he took in the imposing facade.
“As I’ll ever be.”
I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before pushing open the door.
The foyer was awash in morning light, the crystal chandelier casting rainbow reflections across the marble floor. Farron did a sharp intake of breath, and I felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was easy to forget how overwhelming this could all seem.
“Mamma? Pappa?” I called out, my voice echoing slightly. “We’re here!”
The sound of footsteps from the direction of the dining room sent my heart racing. I glanced at Farron, noting how his free hand trembled slightly at his side. I wanted nothing more than to wrap him in my arms to shield him from any discomfort, but this was a moment we had to face head-on.
My parents appeared in the doorway, followed closely by my sisters. The moment seemed to stretch, filled with an electric anticipation that made the air feel thick.
“Mamma, Pappa,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “this is Farron. Farron, these are my parents, Per and Sonja, and my sisters, Anna and Astrid.”
Farron stepped forward, his hand outstretched. I could see the slight tremor in his fingers as he introduced himself. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highnesses.”
I hadn’t expected him to know how to address them, and if I’d had more time to prepare him, I certainly would’ve discussed protocol with him, but he must’ve looked it up. Bonus points for him, and my parents appreciated it, too, judging by the quick look they shared.
My father clasped Farron’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Farron,” he replied warmly. “We’ve heard so much about you from Tore.”
The tension in Farron’s shoulders eased slightly, and relief filled me. As my mother stepped forward to greet him, I caught Anna’s eye. She gave me a subtle thumbs-up, and I had to bite back a grin.
“Shall we move to the dining room?” my mother suggested. “Breakfast is ready, and I’m sure you boys are hungry.”
As we followed my family into the dining room, I leaned close to Farron. “See? Nothing to worry about,” I whispered.
He shot me a look that was equal parts relief and lingering nervousness. “Easy for you to say, Your Highness,” he muttered back, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Conversation flowed easily as we enjoyed delicious croissants and pastries—which I was certain my mom had made in Farron’s honor, as we didn’t usually eat those—and, of course, our standard bread and brunost .
Farron frowned as he took a bite, looking pensive as if he was trying to figure out what he was eating. “It’s caramel,” I told him. “That flavor in the cheese you can’t figure out? It’s from milk sugars caramelized during the production process.”
“Caramel cheese…” His face filled with wonder. “It’s delicious.”
“It’s something Norway is known for, as well as for our salmon.”
“I’ve never had salmon,” Farron said. The simultaneous gasp of both my sisters had him looking up, his cheeks coloring.
“Salmon is expensive in America,” I said, coming to his aid. I wasn’t gonna spill details about his background to my sisters, but I did want them to understand where he was coming from. “Especially in landlocked states like Ohio, where it all has to be flown in from Alaska or Scotland or from salmon farms across the world. Most of what you see is pre-frozen, and what they sell as fresh salmon is, in fact, a few days old by then. Fish, in general, is not a staple of the American diet.”
“That’s interesting,” my mother said, though I was certain I wasn’t telling her anything new. “I suppose we’re spoiled with having such easy access to fresh, high-quality salmon.”
“I want to learn about Norway,” Farron said, a slight tremor in his voice. “I know me being a foreigner isn’t ideal, especially an American who knows next to nothing about the world outside the US. I haven’t traveled much and the only reason I had a passport is because I wanted to be ready to travel in case I had an opportunity to play soccer somewhere. So I’m well aware I know nothing about your country other than what Tore has told me, but I want to learn. I’ll do whatever is necessary to be worthy of him.”
My eyes grew moist as my heart filled to capacity with love for him.
“We truly appreciate that,” my mom said. “We know this is far from an easy world to step into. Our Tore comes with a lot of baggage. Baggage we value, but baggage, nonetheless. And please know that we will do whatever we can to help you adjust. We want you to feel welcome, both in our family and in our country.”
Leave it to my mom to say the perfect thing at the perfect time. I’d never appreciated her genuine kindness and warmth more.
Farron’s shoulders relaxed, the last of his tension melting away. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me. And how much Tore means to me.”
Anna piped up, her eyes twinkling. “Does this mean we get to embarrass Tore with childhood stories now?”
I groaned but couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Please, have mercy.”
As laughter filled the room, a warmth spread through my chest. This was more than I could have hoped for, my family accepting and welcoming Farron with open arms.
As the laughter died, I noticed my parents exchange a meaningful glance. My father cleared his throat, his expression growing more serious. “As thrilled as we are for you both—and we truly are—we do think it’s best if you keep your relationship private for now. At least until we can develop a proper press strategy.”
I blinked, processing his words. It made sense, of course. The media would have a field day with this news. But still, the idea of hiding our love didn’t sit well with me.
“We’re not ashamed of you,” my father added quickly, reading the expression on my face. “It’s more that the public reaction can be unpredictable. Not so much the Norwegian press but the international tabloids. We want to protect you both and ensure you’re ready for that.”
Farron’s thumb rubbed small circles on my hand, a gesture of comfort. I glanced at him, and he wasn’t upset, which was a relief. “I would appreciate some advice and training in how to handle all that, as I have zero experience with it,” he said. “The last thing I want is to embarrass Tore or you or cause some kind of incident.”
My mother nodded, relief evident in her features. “Exactly. We need time to prepare you both and help you figure out a strategy. That way, we can also control the narrative.”
I took a deep breath, feeling torn. Part of me wanted to shout our love from the rooftops, consequences be damned. But I knew the weight of my position, the responsibilities that came with it. “We understand. We’ll do our best to keep things under wraps for now.”
Farron squeezed my hand. “We can do this, Tore,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine. “It’s not forever, right?”
I nodded, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for this man willing to navigate the complexities of royal life for me. “Just until we’re ready.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” my father said. “I will reach out to Hans, our press secretary, today and ask him to sit down with you and start working on a strategy.”
“So,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, “about those embarrassing childhood stories…”
After breakfast, my father had to head out for an appointment with the prime minister, and my mom was taking Anna and Astrid for a dress fitting for a wedding they were attending, so Farron and I were on our own. Instead of giving him a tour of the house, which would only drive home the differences between us, I suggested we head into town to do some sightseeing. Farron was immediately game, even when I stressed we couldn’t hold hands or show affection in case someone recognized me despite me disguising myself somewhat.
I adjusted the oversized sunglasses on my face, tugging the brim of my baseball cap lower. “Ready for your grand tour of Oslo?”
Farron’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Lead the way.”
I had our driver drop us off outside the city center so no one would notice, and then we walked to Karl Johans gate, the main street of Oslo. The spring air buzzed with energy, tourists and locals alike bustling about. A thrill coursed through me at the thought of exploring my city with the man I loved, even if I couldn’t show it.
“This street’s named after King Carl III Johan,” I explained, gesturing at the wide pedestrian thoroughfare. “He was actually born Jean Baptiste Bernadotte in France. Quite the character, as he started as a soldier and ended up King of Sweden and Norway.”
Farron whistled. “Talk about a career change. That offers hope for me, a lowly commoner, as I’m now dating a prince.”
I laughed, the sound bubbling from deep in my chest. “Oh, you have no idea. The stories I could tell you about royal history…”
We strolled down the street, my heart swelling as I pointed out landmarks. The Storting, the grand building that housed our parliament, stood proud and imposing. “That’s where all the political action happens. Though sometimes I think the real decisions are made over aquavit and t?rrfisk .”
“Over what now?” Farron’s nose wrinkled adorably.
“ Aquavit is vodka infused with certain herbs, like dill. It’s not my favorite, but it pairs well with fish, including t?rrfisk . It’s a traditional way of drying cod, which is then used for other dishes, like lutefisk , dried cod treated with lye. It’s… an acquired taste.”
Farron’s expression was priceless. “You’re shitting me, right? Fish soaked in poison?”
“Language, darling,” I chided playfully. “And it’s perfectly safe. Mostly.”
Farron opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I’ll try it at least once. For you.”
I patted his shoulder. “Perfect answer. Very diplomatic.”
We continued our walk, passing by the National Theatre. I recounted tales of Henrik Ibsen and other Norwegian playwrights, delighting in Farron’s genuine interest. His questions were thoughtful, his observations keen. I found myself falling even deeper in love with him, if that was possible.
As we approached the Royal Palace, I felt a mix of pride and nervousness. “And this,” I said, gesturing to the impressive building, “is the home of my cousin Gustav and his wife, Ingrid, now King and Queen of Norway. Well, one of their homes, anyway.”
Farron’s eyes widened. “It’s huge.”
“It’s not all living space, you know. There are offices, reception rooms… Oh! And a lovely park behind it. We should explore that later.”
As we walked away from the palace, happiness filled me. Sharing my world with Farron made everything I loved about Oslo feel new and exciting again.
“You know,” I said, leading him down a narrow cobblestone street, “there’s this little café I adore. They make the most divine kanelboller —cinnamon rolls.”
Farron grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m always down for some sugar.”
I playfully nudged his shoulder. “I thought I was all the sweetness you needed.”
“Smooth talker,” he chuckled, then lowered his voice. “But you’re not wrong.”
As we entered the café, the rich aroma of cinnamon and coffee enveloped us. I ordered in Norwegian, conscious of Farron watching me intently. We found a quiet place in a corner, with no one paying us any attention.
“I love hearing you speak Norwegian. It’s sexy.”
“Well, perhaps I should teach you a few phrases then.”
“Yeah?” Farron leaned in, his brown eyes sparkling with interest. “Teach me something.”
“All right then,” I said, clearing my throat. “ Jeg elsker deg .”
Farron’s brow furrowed as he attempted to repeat the phrase. His pronunciation was endearingly awful, but I found it utterly charming. “What does it mean?” he asked.
I hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “It means I love you.”
Farron’s expression softened. “In that case, jeg elsker deg too, Tore.”