7. 7
Magnus
I’ve never been an impulsive person.
That might surprise a lot of people when you consider the list of things I’ve been involved with. My interests.
Passions, if you will.
I’m good at a few things, but my problem is that if I can be good at something, I want to be the best. And I’ll do it for as long as I can, because who doesn’t like being the best at what they love? And if I’m not the best, then I get bored.
It started when I was a kid. I played hockey because every kid in Laandia played hockey, and I was good at it. I was a big kid, and even with a different name on the back of my jersey, everyone on the opposing team knew who I was.
That was good and bad—there were some who wouldn’t come near me out of fear of retribution, like my father would throw them in the dungeon if they cross-checked me, and some who went after me every chance they could get.
I was a good player, but I wasn’t the best. I wasn’t the fastest. I wasn’t the best scorer.
I was good at protecting the rest of my teammates, which is what they wanted me for, but you can get tired of fighting or pushing others into the boards.
Eventually, I got bored with hockey. But Laandia was made for winter sports, and I like the ice, so I tried curling.
Again, I was good, but not the best, and didn’t last long in the sport.
I spent the winter months inside at arenas, but the summers I spent at the track. Not running, because even though my legs are long, I’ve always been flat-footed. I was good at throwing things, like the discus and the javelin, all very Viking-type weapons.
Turns out I was the best at shotput, so good that I made it to the Olympics. A gold medal and several world records later, eventually someone beat me, and I was no longer the best. So I retired from sports. I was very happy for Randy Barnes, when he beat my record, but I moved on to other pursuits.
It was the same with music. I was always a good guitarist, but not the best. It turns out I needed the help of others for that.
I met Duncan in Laandia City, which is as far from Battle Harbour as you can be and still be in the country. I was there with my family and snuck out partway through some ceremony to go to a bar. Duncan, Luciano, and Benny were in the band playing, and one thing led to another.
I’m not even sure I remember what led to me joining them on stage. I told them my name was Martin Aaronson, and by the end of their set, it was obvious that I was about to take the place of their lead guitarist.
Even when they figured out who I really was.
And Martin Aaronson got a songwriting credit on our first album.
Listening to Selene talk about her country reminds me of that night. I might be a good king by myself, but I really think she could make me better.
Maybe even the best.
Plus, as we danced, I couldn’t help thinking about how easy it was to be around her, and how easy running the country might be with her by my side.
Having someone beside me—not really checking up on me, but offering assistance. Helping. Trying to make me better, just like Duncan and the guys did.
If Selene were queen, she might help me from being bored with the gig as well.
So I did one of the few impulsive things in my life: proposed marriage to a woman I barely knew.
And she said no.
I can honestly say I didn’t expect that reply. “Is that your final answer?”
The look she gives me is scathing. And I’m not too ashamed to say that somewhere, deep down, I like it. Being a part of the Laandian royal family means I don’t get a lot of scathing.
“Is that honestly how you think you should propose to a woman?” Selene demands.
Her accent is a little stronger, a little crisper when she’s annoyed.
“Well, I was thinking this would be more of an arranged marriage—”
“I’ve seen more romantic concessions in our Charter,” she snaps.
I wish having a beard meant it was easier to hide a smile. “I’ve offended you.” Selene is a beautiful woman—the hair and the eyes, and the face, as carefully etched as a porcelain doll, not to mention the figure—but her beauty ramps up one hundred percent when she’s irritated.
“What do you expect?” she snaps.
“Not to offend you,” I offer, leading her away from the other dancers. I like being the best, and Selene seems like she’s about to tell the world that I am not the most romantic.
That I’m not a lot of things.
“I’ve had sixteen offers of marriage since I was twelve years old, and that was the worst one yet,” she tells me in an icy voice.
I didn’t think it was that bad. “Sixteen?” Why would Selene—and Avelaine—be in such demand?
The obvious answer is the beautiful and accomplished Selene, with the gleam of intelligence in those blue eyes, but that many proposals?
She looks about the same age as I am, so how many came about before she was even of legal age?
Maybe the people of Avelaine really do have some archaic ideas about their royal family, and princesses in general.
“Yes, that many,” she confirms without acknowledging that it is a lot. “So I know a bad proposal when I hear it.”
The song changes, but I don’t make a move to release her. Selene either doesn’t notice or doesn’t want to stop dancing with me.
Is it bad that I hope that it’s the latter?
“You have my word that I’ll do my best to improve on that,” I tell her, shifting my hand on her back so my pinkie grazes the bare skin under her shoulder blades.
“I would hope so,” she says, as I tuck her close to avoid being hit by the flailing arms of Laura Golden and Nancy Schmidt in the middle of the dance floor.
Selene doesn’t move away. “So how long should I wait?” I ask politely.
“For what?”
“To propose again?”
She looks up at me. “You can’t be serious?”
“I’m not serious about a lot, but I think being a king will change that. So… yes. I am serious about thinking that marrying you would be a good idea for my country. And me. And, I hope, for you as well.”
Her mouth drops open with surprise.
“I think we’d be guaranteed to have blue-eyed children,” I add.
“You dare to talk about children…” And then she laughs.
It’s not a nice laugh. “You wound me,” I say with a hangdog expression.
“Hearing someone say no wounds you?” she demands.
“Of course not. It’s your refusal to even consider my offer that stings.”
I don’t want to think about how she’s refusing to consider me as well as the offer. Prince Magnus of Laandia was always a catch, but as king, I have even more to offer, especially to someone like Selene.
“Is this a serious offer?”
I hold her gaze, and for the first time, there’s a… spark… in the blue depths.
Whether that is interest or anger, I can’t quite tell. “It could be,” I admit, keeping my voice low.
Selene studies me as much as I study her, like it’s the first time we’re seeing each other. And maybe it is. Maybe for the first time we’re looking. “I don’t know anything about you,” she says reluctantly.
I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “But you could. That’s what I’m offering.” For a moment there’s… a moment. Something passes between us. “I’ll try again.”
The blue eyes shutter. “I doubt you’ll want to bother.”
“You’d be surprised what I want to be bothered about,” I tell her with a grin. “Selene, formerly of Avelaine, it would give me the greatest honour if you would consider my most heartfelt and sincere proposal of marriage. My country needs you. I need you.”
This time, she lets the words hang between us for at least thirty seconds.
“No,” she says. This time, she walks away.
“‘You know what would make it better?’” Duncan echoes with a groan. “Mag—I don’t believe you.”
Duncan rescued me as soon as Selene walked away. I think it was more because he worried that I might have offended her, and whether it could lead to an international incident, than helping a buddy out. So, of course, I told him and Diandra about my proposal to Selene.
Hiring Duncan as my advisor was a no-brainer. We’d been practically inseparable since I joined the band, and I couldn’t imagine navigating a change this big without him.
Besides, we’d always made a great team. Kr?ftig might have started as Benny’s band, but before long, it became Duncan’s and mine. Musically, logistically—until we hired a manager—we were the ones making the decisions. And we were good at it.
So when I came back to Battle Harbour to learn the ropes, Duncan offered to stay in Battle Harbour until I found my footing. He never left.
Diandra has been hanging out here as well, working on her art. It’s nice to have friends around.
“I thought it was going pretty well,” I protest, motioning to a server across the room for a drink.
Duncan shakes his head. “Until you came up with that.”
“Haven’t you ever tried to romance a woman?” Diandra demands. “Wait—don’t answer that. You don’t think you need to because you’re a rock star prince.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. Your face said it all.”
“My face didn’t say anything,” I mutter.
“And neither did Selene. Or wait—she did. She said no.” Diandra shakes her head. The family resemblance between the two of them right now is insane, but I’m not saying a word because I don’t want to point out it’s because of matching expressions of disappointment over my lack of wooing skills.
I never thought I lacked anything when it came to attracting women, but it’s clear I need help. With Selene, at least.
I really proposed marriage to her.
Part of me wants to take back the last ten minutes of my life, but part of me still thinks it’s an idea worth investigating.
And maybe working on it a little.
“I can’t blame her,” Dee continues. “But I do blame you, because I spent a lot of time talking you up. And that is now time wasted.”
“Apparently, not good enough,” Duncan says, still looking disgusted.
“I don’t need to be talked up,” I complain, but any protest is ignored.
“Hey, don’t blame me for that,” Diandra says, scooping up the glass of honey mead the server brings for me. “You were on the road with him for eighteen months straight. Couldn’t you teach him anything?”
“I don’t need to be taught anything. And that drink was for me.”
Diandra gives me a look. “Clearly, you do if you think that’s a suitable proposal. And fine.” She drains half the glass before handing it to me.
“It wasn’t a proposal. Not a real one.”
“Clearly!”
I honestly didn’t think it went as badly as they are making out. But still—first “proposal” and I was turned down twice. “I thought it would be more of an arrangement,” I tell them. “An arranged marriage. Like my parents had.”
Luckily, there are no guests within hearing distance, or my humiliation will become an international event.
“Do you really want that kind of marriage?” Duncan asks. He knows what it was like between my parents. Polite conversation between episodes of cold war.
I shrug.
“You don’t,” Diandra decides. “Magnus, it might start out as an arranged marriage at the beginning, but it doesn’t have to stay that way. You could fall in love with her. She could fall in love with you.”
Another shrug.
“But you should start now. Right now.” Diandra gives me a push, just as if she’s my little sister. “Go talk to her. Again. And try harder.”
I’ve never had to try harder. I’m not a man women say no to.
Not because of my royal pedigree, although there are quite a few people who have flocked to me over the years because of it. I may be a prince—a king—but I’m a fun one. I know how to have fun. I show women a darn good time, and the world knows that.
Maybe Selene doesn’t like to have a good time.
For the rest of the night, I do my best to push her refusal out of my mind, but it won’t leave. I dance with other women, I prop up the bar and have a final toast with the band. There are fireworks and a midnight feast, and more music.
I watch Selene pretend to mingle, but she’s not really talking to anyone.
It’s like there’s a wall around her. She gets attention because of her looks and who she is.
Who she used to be. There are enough scandals in the monarchies of the world to keep the paparazzi busy, but King Theodor abdicating was a big one.
Adding in how his decision stripped Selene of her place in the line of succession made it huge.
There’s a lot of sympathy for her.
But no one is brave enough to approach her about it. I don’t know if it’s Selene’s expression or her body language, but there is something about her that screams “Stay away.”
I should listen to what her body is saying.
But I’ve never been one to take the safe path.
I keep Selene in my sights for the rest of the night, and when it looks like she’s heading toward the door, I make a beeline for her before she can escape.
“Selene,” I call.
She turns, as do her father, stepmother, and friend. “Thank you for the lovely evening, Your Highness,” Theodor says politely. “But I think we’ll take our leave now.”
“Thank you for coming, and it was good to see you,” I tell him automatically, my gaze shifting to Selene. “Can I have a minute before you go?”
Selene’s friend ushers Theodor and his wife to the door without a word, leaving Selene standing before me. “It was lovely to see you again,” she says quietly.
It’s almost like you can see the bricks in the wall surrounding her, keeping her away from others. I know growing up a princess isn’t easy, but something must have happened to her to make her so standoffish.
Something other than losing her crown.
I pause for an instant—not to reconsider, but to make sure I get it right this time. “Would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow?” I ask.
A light flickers in her eyes. “Your Highness…”
“Magnus.” I catch her hand, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin. “Please, Selene.”
Her breath catches, and she looks down at my hand holding hers, at the stroking of my thumb. I wait because I can be patient.
I don’t like to be, but it’s possible.
“All right,” she says reluctantly. “Coffee. But that’s it. No rings or crowns.”
I grin. “At least for the first date.”