8. 8
Selene
The only reason I agree to meet King Magnus for coffee is because of Diandra Laz.
After I dance with Magnus—when he proposes marriage not once but twice—the brunette I saw earlier attaches herself to me.
Actually, she attaches herself to Courtney, which is the same thing.
It turns out that Diandra is the younger sister of Duncan Laz and has known Magnus for years.
Knows everything about him, she confides, like I want to know everything.
I don’t not want to know everything. I’m not sure what I want.
There has been a visible absence of relationships in my life, before and after Darren.
While Avelaine is a small country, and I’ve never had the public scrutiny of other royal families, I’ve always been aware of the constant surveillance of the press.
Even if I could fly under the radar, I was going to be queen, and that underscored every move I made.
There was no random meeting men in bars, no casual dating; there were no relationships that didn’t have a purpose or an agenda. I’ve never even met a man for coffee.
I’ve had sixteen proposals of marriage, but I only knew three of the men, and they were acquaintances at best. The men who wanted to marry me talked to my father. Or their fathers did.
Or their lawyers.
Romance has been sorely lacking in my life. For six years, there was just Darren, but ours was never a relationship based on affection. Baron von Lier of Belgium was ambitious and wanted to be king of something. Somewhere. I was the easiest way to that.
I know that now, but for the past six years, I refused to let myself consider that he was using me.
Darren had been so using me.
But that’s over now. I’ve moved on. I no longer have ties to Avelaine, and marrying me will no longer lead a man to a throne.
So what does Magnus actually want from me? I have no throne, no influence. I’m a psychologist, no longer a princess.
Maybe he needs someone to talk to. A few sessions of therapy.
Every member of a royal family could definitely use that.
I get the sense Diandra is vouching for Magnus, if that’s possible. She makes him sound like a good man who wouldn’t use a woman for her status.
I’ve honestly never met a man who doesn’t do that. At least not one who was interested in me.
“You should call him,” she says at the end of the evening when Great Big Sea has replaced Tragically Hip, and the dessert buffet has been picked over. “Magnus is a really good guy.”
“So you’ve said. A few times.”
“I never thought he’d be so cute in real life,” Courtney adds with an uncharacteristic giggle.
Diandra winces. “I guess so, but he’s always been like a brother to me, so I can’t think of him like that. He and Duncan are basically joined at the hip.”
“I wish I had a brother with friends like that,” Courtney says.
“Mag hasn’t had the best luck with dating,” Diandra admits.
The easy charm and wide smile flash through my mind, and it doesn’t take long to track him down on the dance floor… completely at ease in the middle of a group of admiring women. “Somehow I doubt that,” I say drily.
“Oh, he has no trouble picking up women.” Diandra laughs. “It’s the relationships that he has trouble with. You must know how it is.”
I do know how it is.
Which is why I agree to meet Magnus the next morning. I tell myself that anyway.
Not that it has anything to do with how his smile makes me feel.
*
“Thanks for meeting me,” Magnus says the next day. We meet in the town square in downtown Battle Harbour. It was an easy walk for me from the slightly rundown hotel we’re staying in.
The way Magnus greets me makes me think I’m here for a job interview.
“Apparently I’m hosting a lunch today,” he adds. “So I don’t have as much time as I would like.”
“If you’re too busy…”
“No, I want to get to know you better,” he says, suddenly serious.
“Why?” I can’t help but ask.
Magnus laughs, and people on the street turn and look at him. They look happy to see him, calling out greetings and waving hands.
Even if I hadn’t been at his party last night, I would know he’s loved by his people.
“I want you to get to know me,” he corrects.
“Me and my country. But first—coffee?” he asks, tucking a hand behind my back and turning me in the direction of a coffeeshop.
“I’m a big fan of Tim Horton’s, but I have to say, Coffee for the Sole makes a great cup.
And they do this thing with foam, make it all rainbow-y. I always stick my finger in it.”
The name of the shop takes on a new meaning when Magnus holds the door for me and I get the full effect of the décor.
There are fish everywhere—paintings, and on the dishes, and ornaments hanging in the windows.
One wall is covered with paper cutouts of fish coloured by children.
There are even nets and lobster traps in the corners. “Oh, sole.”
“Sole, because we’re a fishing village.”
“I see.”
Magnus rushes the counter like a linebacker, and I reluctantly follow.
Looking around in amazement while Magnus chats with the couple behind the counter, I’m flabbergasted by both the unconventional décor and the fact Magnus—the king of Laandia—is just walking around his town.
Granted, there is a security man waiting at the door and, I suspect, a few outside, but he’s just walking around, like he’s a … a regular person.
My father would never have done that. He never wanted to. The people of Avelaine had respect for my father as a leader, but kept their distance, as if there were a wall and a moat around him.
Magnus hops right over the wall and swims across the moat like it doesn’t even exist, and it’s interesting to watch the dynamic. He’s like no other king I’ve met. No other royal.
He doesn’t dress like a member of the royal family either. Gone is the colourful uniform from last night, which made mountains out of his shoulders and nipped in his waist in a way that had me thinking about sliding my arms around it.
Not that I would have done that. Dancing with him was enough.
Enough to know that being held in Magnus’s arms might be quite a comfortable place.
I shouldn’t be thinking about things like that. Not when Magnus is wearing jeans that have seen better days, and a Laandian hockey jersey that looks like it’s actually been worn in too many games to count.
I hope he changes before his lunch.
And that brings out a sudden surge of annoyance—not that he didn’t dress to impress me, but that he will need to shave off time spent with me to rush back to the castle to give himself time to change.
Magnus draws me forward and introduces me to the owner, Alister Bell. After a few minutes chatting, we leave with coffees in hand, topped with the famous foam, and begin to circle the square.
So this is what it’s like meeting a man for coffee.
With the king of Laandia.
Magnus can’t walk two feet without someone coming up to him. Calling to him from across the street. Or simply waving with a cheerful “Hello, Your Highness.”
And anyone who stops him, he introduces to me.
I meet a man named Coy Schmidt, who has an accent so strong that I can barely understand him; Lennie Tak, who tells us about seeing a pod of whales while he was surfing this morning; and a group of men who make Magnus promise to meet them for a beer that night.
He introduces me to Kathleen McKibbon, who is practically bouncing with excitement.
She flashes her engagement ring, and Magnus congratulates her as if they’re long-time friends.
Maybe they are. Maybe he’s friends with all of these people.
It was never like that for me in Avelaine.
Even with all the interruptions, Magnus somehow manages to give me his attention.
As we talk, he tells me about the town, how it was the place where his grandfather made his stand to stop the Nazis who had invaded the shores.
I know the story of how Leif Erickson protected Canada from the German invasion, but I’ve never heard it from someone who told it so passionately.
The way Magnus tells the story, I can almost feel the cold and rain, imagining Leif arranging his men among the cliffs outside town to wait for their moment to attack.
Along with the story, Magnus comments on every place we pass, telling me the history of the store and the people who own it.
He obviously loves his home, and because of that, I start to look around with more appreciation. It’s a quaint town, busier than I would imagine for a place of this size, but yesterday was a holiday of sorts. The coronation of their new king.
Their beloved king.
And because of the reactions of the people, I look at Magnus in a new light.
He intrigues me. Not interests, because that would mean something different. That would mean I find him attractive—
A person would have to be blind not to find Magnus attractive.
His reddish-blond hair glows in the sunlight, but his smile is even brighter. He has the height and the happiness that reminds me of the actor Brendan Fraser, but with the easygoing charm of a Keanu Reeves and the confidence of George Clooney.
It’s an intoxicating combination.
So much that I force myself to ask him questions because listening to him talk almost puts a spell over me.
“Do you miss the band?” I ask him. “I feel like I should apologize for not knowing much about it, but it’s not really my type of music. But I did see you win your medal. I was at the Olympics.”
“What did you think?” Magnus asks with a grin.
“Of you?” I had been there to see the horse jumping and the tennis, but my father had been given tickets to the track and field events the day of the shot put competition.
It wasn’t my thing, but I remember how the redheaded prince had the audience cheering every time he took his turn. “Impressive.”
He nudges my shoulder. “I meant being at the Olympics, but thank you.”
“Oh.” My cheeks flush with embarrassment. If I’m not careful, I’ll start acting like Courtney when she met Duncan Laz last night. “It was… it got overwhelming at times,” I tell him, surprised at my sudden honesty.
“It’s hard to go out in public as a member of a royal family, isn’t it? That’s why I like it here.” He waves a hand. “They just let me be.”
“Avelaine never just let me be,” I admit.
“No, I always got the sense it was a different sort of country. Do you miss it?”
If anyone else had asked me this, I would have said that I did. Of course I did. That the country would always have my heart. But with Magnus, the easy, automatic answers aren’t coming like they should be. “I thought I did.”
“But maybe not?”
I glance at him with confusion. “You want me to miss my home?”
“Of course not. But if you missed being a princess, that might fit into my three-part plan.”
“Plan for what?”
“To get you to agree to marry me.”