5. 5
Magnus
“Who’s that?” Duncan asks as Selene moves off. I can tell from his tone that he’s admiring the back view as much as I am.
Princess Selene. No longer princess, just Selene.
It’s been years since I’ve seen her, and I admit, I didn’t recognize her at first. She’s a beautiful woman, with the blonde, blue-eyed Scandinavian colouring that I like. But she always looked kind of… bland. Like there was something missing.
There’s nothing missing now.
There’s a spark that wasn’t there before. A strong-willed spark fighting against an insistent breeze, trying to extinguish it.
I like it.
Or maybe I just like that dress.
“Former princess of Avelaine,” I say, waving to Steven Tyler as he bypasses the line.
“Why former?”
I greet Tom Hanks and then Michelle Pfeiffer before answering Duncan, surprised when there is something about this whole thing that he doesn’t know.
My best friend has been my rock through this. And he learns more each day, so much more than I’m capable of. There should be a way I can make him king, even though I know he wouldn’t take the gig.
At least he’s here with me to help me deal with it. To actually do it.
When I told the guys that I had to choose between a rock band and being a royal heir, Duncan gave me a serious talk about duty and responsibility, listing all sorts of reasons, like how the people of Laandia deserve a fair and just king.
And that I would be that king.
Duncan is my new inspiration for being the best king I can possibly be.
“King Theodor abdicated without realizing that his daughter couldn’t inherit,” I tell him when there’s a break in the line.
“She was set to succeed him, but there was some caveat that shifted the succession. Selene was out of luck.” I should have more sympathy for her since her entire life had most likely revolved around being the next queen.
Maybe if I felt more strongly that I’ve made the right decision, I would be.
“Constitutional monarchy,” Duncan says ruefully. “Avelaine’s royal family is slowly losing influence. You’re lucky Laandia doesn’t have such archaic laws.”
“If we did, I’m sure Dante would have already tried to challenge me for the throne,” I mutter.
I know my brother is disappointed in my decision, but his attitude is overkill.
He’s pouting like a three-year-old who lost their favourite toy, only he’s managing to do it in a way that people are sympathetic to him and blaming me.
I’m the firstborn. The heir to the throne, and I’m being criticized for not stepping aside for my brother?
Duncan bumps my shoulder with his. “You’d totally take him.”
I’m not too sure. My brother has a vindictive side, plus he plays dirty.
Diandra rejoins us a few minutes later. “Benny thinks you can start to wrap this up,” she tells us with the confidence of someone who knows everything about what is going on behind the scenes.
She’s always been like that: joining us on tour and hanging around the studio when we were recording.
Even when she and Duncan stayed at the castle with me during breaks, Diandra made a point of befriending the staff and the people of Battle Harbour.
People talk to her, even more than they do Duncan.
No one talks to me now, because I’m their king.
I’m going to have to change that. I don’t want to be the king my father was. I want to be better. To do better.
But now, all I can see is the throng of people still wanting to talk to me. I’ve never had a problem being the centre of attention, but even I think this is exhausting. “How do you figure?”
“I can see the end of the line now. You should close it up. If people are late, they shouldn’t be allowed to do the meet and greet,” she says.
“How many times are you late for something?” Duncan chides his sister.
“I’m special.”
I grin at her. “In so many ways.”
Diandra suddenly grips my arm. “Oh, Pierre Trudeau and his son are coming up. Keep it open so I can meet them. And also, I want to find out who that blonde was.”
“There are many blondes here,” I point out.
“That one.” Diandra jerks her chin toward where Selene and her friend are standing on the other side of the room.
“She’s a princess,” Duncan chimes in.
“Former princess,” I correct.
“Perfect. You don’t need to deal with another country when you still have to figure out how to deal with the one you have.”
I don’t respond because Dee is right. I do have to figure out how to deal with Laandia. Ruling Laandia.
Being a king, not just a guy in a band.
Diandra stays to meet the Trudeau family, and then Kevin Costner. And then, a few minutes later, Benny sidles up behind us and says I’m free.
Of the receiving line.
I head straight for the bar, Duncan and Diandra right behind me, and order three pints.
Without a word, Duncan and I down the frothy ale, always a race to see who can finish first.
I take a breath three-quarters down, and Duncan slams his empty glass on the bar. Diandra tries, but she doesn’t have a chance of beating her brother.
“She’s right, you know.” Duncan gives me the look as the bartender refills the glasses. “What she said before. You should take some time tonight to meet—”
“I am not picking up a woman here!”
“It’s the best time and place for it,” Diandra argues.
“I’m not talking about this. Now, go,” I tell Dee. “Make friends. Save me a dance later.”
Diandra backs away with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “I’ve told you for years that you can’t keep up with me.”
“But it’s fun trying.” I wave as she slips into the crowd.
“I’m so very happy that there is nothing between the two of you.” Duncan sighs. “The world couldn’t handle it.”
I laugh, thinking of Dee and me as a couple. It would never work.
“She might be right about Princess Selene, though,” Duncan muses.
“Right about what?”
“You need a wife.”
I stare across the room, my eyes tracking Selene in her blue dress, and don’t reply.
I think that’s the end of it. At least it is for me. Coming home after years on tour has been an adjustment all on its own. Then my father dies, I inherit a crown, and suddenly I’m expected to learn how to be king?
Throw a wife into the equation? No thanks.
I’m still trying to figure out who I am in this new role.
But later, after the speeches and the Tragically Hip play their set, and I take the floor with Diandra and actress Natasha Henstridge—because of course, I never thought to bring a date to my own coronation—Diandra corners me by the bar.
“I’m serious, Mag,” she begins.
“Why? This is a party. You should be having fun. Not the time for serious.”
“You should be looking for a wife.”
“Are you kidding? The next thing you’ll be saying is that you should marry me.”
Dee holds my gaze. We’re both thinking of that one time. The one time I thought it would be a great idea to kiss my best friend’s little sister. The one time Diandra thought it was a good idea to let me.
And then it was over, and we laughed, and never mentioned it again. And I never told Duncan.
“No,” Diandra says firmly. “I am not thinking of that. But I am thinking it would be a good idea for you.”
“Why?” I demand with a little too much aggression. “I don’t know what I’m doing. How can I be expected to teach someone else the rules when I haven’t got a clue? Your brother can only do so much.”
“What about someone who already knows what they’re doing?” she counters. “Like a princess.”
“The only single princesses I know are not suitable for marriage.”
“What about a former princess?”
I glance at Diandra. Over her shoulder, I catch sight of Selene on the dance floor, sparkling in that blue dress.