15. 15
Magnus
Being in the tunnels makes me feel like I’m a kid again, exploring with my brother, before he became the Dante he is now.
I miss the old Dante.
But being in the tunnels with Selene is better, because we talk.
And I get to hold her hand.
It’s nice. I hold Selene’s hand as we make our way through the chilly tunnels, the yellow beam of the flashlight the only light.
It’s weakening, but I don’t tell her that.
We walk, and we talk, and it’s nice. It’s like we’re on a date—in a cold, dark tunnel. That might lead to the dungeon if I take the wrong turn.
Which I think I might have.
I don’t say anything about that either, because I enjoy this. I like spending time with Selene.
My dating history is sketchy, at best. I’ve dated women who know the drill, what is expected when dating a prince.
Some knew that escorting them to events and galas meant nothing; some didn’t.
Then there were women I met when the band were touring, and they wanted Magnus, the lead guitarist, not Prince Magnus.
I’ve never had a serious girlfriend, and now I have a wife.
I’m not sure what scares me the more: trying to be a good king, or a good husband.
One thing I do know is that being a good husband means listening. So as we make our way through the cold, dark tunnels—because I thought it would be a fun thing to do—I listen to Selene tell me about herself.
I find out she’s very close to her father, but didn’t have many friends. She speaks five languages, and has a double degree in psychology and political science because her father wanted her to learn everything she could to help her become a good queen.
Growing up in Avelaine as a princess seems very different from my childhood. Especially the palace. “It was like a museum,” she admits. “Beautiful, and full of art and paintings, but cold. Not like here.”
“It seems pretty cold to me right now,” I say under my breath.
“You can tell that a family lives here. Or… did.”
It hasn’t been a family since my mother died, but I don’t tell Selene that.
“There’s even a portrait of me on the wall,” she says.
“It was painted when I was ten, and I look miserable. I’m actually frowning, and the artist said they caught the real me.
” She chokes a laugh. “I was so serious, always looking for ways to improve myself, and never letting myself have fun. I have fun,” she finishes defensively.
“I’m sure you do. What do you do for fun? What do you like to do?”
This is what I need to listen for, because while having Selene at my side is certainly an asset for the royal family, I need to know more about my wife. And while she opened up during the weeks of phone calls and late-night meetings here with Duncan, it wasn’t like this.
I feel like I’m finally getting some insight about my wife.
“I like music. Maybe not your music,” she adds apologetically.
“I’m wounded. You wound me.”
Somehow, I can tell Selene is rolling her eyes. “I like to dance. I’ve always danced until they told me I was too old for lessons.”
“You’re never too old for lessons. I’ll find you the best dance teacher.”
“I like to drive,” she surprises me by saying. “My mother used to have a 1972 Mustang that I loved. I learned to drive on it, and it was so much fun, racing through the forests. But Papa got rid of it and gave me a more practical car.”
“Let me guess. A Volvo?”
She laughs at my guess. “Actually, yes. Four-door, automatic transmission. But I’ve always missed driving a standard car. And a fast one.”
It seems to me that, as close as she was to her father, King Theodor might have managed to take most of the joy from Selene’s life.
Or maybe it was just being part of the Avelaine royal family that did it.
“We can get a standard car for you,” I offer.
“I see a bit of light ahead,” she says instead. If I hadn’t shone the flashlight up when I glanced behind me, we would have missed the thin strands of light outlining the door.
“Kitchen.” And yes, it’s a bit of a relief as I push open the door. The dark can be a lot.
“Is anyone in there?” she whispers, her voice warm on the back of my neck. She’s very close to me.
“I don’t think so.”
The sudden brightness makes me blink, even though there are only a few lights left on. The door opens between the pantry and the fireplace, and the warmth of the fire, stocked for the night, is very welcoming.
“I’ve never been in here,” Selene says as we step out. I’ve always loved the castle kitchens—the friendliness of the staff, the smells of warm bread and cookies, the clanking and clattering of the pots and pans.
No one is here now. We’ve been alone for longer than I expected.
“Make sure the door is shut. I don’t want Peanut to get into the tunnels. He’ll be lost for days.”
“I don’t think Peanut has made it to the kitchen,” Selene says as she pushes it shut.
“Oh, I think Peanut has made it around the whole castle,” I say ruefully.
“You really don’t like my cat, do you?”
“No, it’s more that I think your cat really doesn’t like me. I want to show you one more thing, if you have time.”
“What else would I rather be doing?”
The warmth in her voice, even after the cat comment, makes me turn and look at her.
Selene is smiling.
Her lips curve up, full, rosy lips. She has tiny creases around her blue eyes when she smiles, and I can’t help but think they’ll deepen as she gets older.
With me. She’s going to get older with me.
It’s a surprisingly comforting thought.
“I don’t know,” I admit, wrenching my gaze away from her mouth before it gets weird. “Sleep? It’s been a long day.”
I just made it weird. Too late, I realize that mentioning sleep might make it awkward. Because sleep, going to bed, means going to bed with me. Lying awake, staring at the ceiling with me.
“I would love for you to show me one more thing,” Selene says in her quiet voice and makes it better.
I wonder if she can make everything better.
“Okay. Okay, good. It’s this way.”
She takes my hand again.
I lead her through the kitchens, down a short hallway to a door that leads outside. “This goes to the gardens,” I tell her.
“I’ve seen the gardens. Bob England gave me a tour.”
“You haven’t seen them at night.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath as we step outside, and she looks around.
The gardens themselves are beautiful any time of the day, with the clean rows of vegetables, the fragrant herbs, and so many flowers. The roses especially, bloom later and longer than any other place in Laandia for some reason.
I have no idea why. I’m sure Bob would know.
But it’s when you look up at night, and see the stars, is when it really takes your breath away.
An endless swath of sparkling lights that seem close enough to touch.
Selene tilts her head up and stares and stares. I watch her.
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispers like she’s unwilling to break the spell. “I’ve never seen stars like this.”
“It’s said that Ragger built his castle here because of them. He thought he would be able to have an audience with the gods if he were close to the sky. Something about being close to Valhalla, too. I’m not up on my Viking trivia as I should be.”
Selene’s eyes are wide and bright as she looks at me. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for showing me.”
“I always think it’s a must-see. The cliffs are that way, through the trees. There’s a bench. Sometimes you can hear the whales. I’ll show you another night, because I need more light to walk through the woods.”
“I’d like that,” she says, and smiles at me.
I would too.
I would like a lot of things.
There’s a pause, and Selene looks at me, almost expectantly.
The moment is… right.
But no.
I should have kissed her then, but I didn’t. I just lead her along the castle wall, and we talk more about the history of the place, and then we go inside, and go to bed, once again, lying next to each other. Not touching.
It takes me a long time to fall asleep that night.