13. Chapter Twelve #2
“Yes. You should. Just like I plan to take care of you.” He patted my chest softly.
Someone rapping on the door pulled me from admiring the way his nose sat on his face.
“Enter,” he called out, stepping back a space for decorum’s sake.
Frode stuck his head in. Rani gave him a quick, short bow.
“Your Highness, Prince Harold will be ready momentarily.”
Frode strode into the room looking handsome in a dark gray suit with a soft pink tie.
“No rush. Karina and the nanny are struggling to get the boys into their suits. Why father insists on ties and suits for the men and dresses for the women for a family birthday meal is beyond me. Do you care if I wear a suit to your birthday dinner?”
“I don’t care if you wear a grass skirt with a coconut bra to my birthday dinner,” I replied honestly. “You know Papa.”
“That I do.” Frode sighed, giving Rani a once-over. “You’ll need to dress as well, Rani.”
“Oh no, Your Highness, I’m not attending.”
“I think you are,” Frode answered, his brow knitting. “I’m sure of it. Mama insisted that there be no beef served tonight to ensure Rani had no qualms about anything on the menu.”
Rani’s hands fell from my lapels. He whipped a look at me. I shrugged. “Sounds like they expect you to attend.”
“Bloody hell,” he whispered, anxiety gripping him as he raced out of my room, pausing only long enough to say, “By your leave, Your Highness?” to Frode, who waved him off with a chuckle.
“He’s still quite concerned about being lesser than, isn’t he?” Frode asked while I shrugged into my suit jacket.
“He is, but he’s getting better. A lot of that is due to how he was raised. As long as he has time to parse things out inside his tidy little mind, all will settle. He’ll be a mess tonight without an hour of prep for this meal. He is not a fan of spontaneity at all.”
“Well, I’m sure whatever he wears will be more than acceptable. He’s always well put together.”
“That he is,” I had to agree. Just another thing to love about him.
***
“So, in the darkest part of Halloween eve, when the children are all safe and tucked into their beds, is when the root goblins sneak out of the root cellars to—”
“What’s a root cellar?” Oliver, my brother Frode’s eldest son, asked. Gilda, Mitchell’s daughter, who was a lovely young lady, sat beside her father on a loveseat, giggling impishly as the young boy’s eyes grew wider and wider with fear.
“Oh, well, that’s where they used to keep fruits, vegetables, and other produce through the winter in the old days.
Some of the outlying farmers still use them,” I explained to the three boys seated at my feet.
Handsome lads all of them. And so very gullible.
“The root goblins are nasty little sprites that look and smell like rotted potatoes. That’s how you know they’ve crept into your room. The stink from under the bed will—”
“Harold, please, that’s enough. The boys will have nightmares about potato gremlins hiding under their beds,” Karina, Frode’s pretty wife, chastised.
“Root goblins, Mama,” Oliver, all of ten and quite the young man, or so he thought, corrected his mother.
Mama and Papa were seated in armchairs next to me by the fire.
Rani, bless him, was stiffly sitting on my other side.
“And I won’t have nightmares because only babies are afraid of monsters.
If I find a root goblin in my room, I’ll dash to the armor hall, find a sword, and stab it right through the monster! ”
Beck and Thoman, the two younger children, not including baby Madsen, who was being bounced by Alva, began whimpering as Oliver began stabbing at thin air with an imaginary sword.
“Enough, Oliver, and enough, Harold,” Frode said as he removed his youngest son from Alva when the boy began to fuss over the racket.
Seemed the babe would be used to the noise his brothers stirred up.
Even Anders’ little Min-Pin Della was whining at the chaos Oliver was creating.
“If they have bad dreams, I’m instructing Nanny to send them to your room so you and Rani can handle them. ”
Rani made a choking sound. I gave his knee a pat.
“That won’t be necessary. Nanny is much better suited to such things.
Make sure you lock the door,” I said in a stage whisper to Rani, who grew dark red in the cheeks.
The others laughed softly. Papa stood up, a glass of wine in his hand, and tapped his apéritif glass with his pen.
The room quieted except for Madsen, who was making hungry, whiny noises as his father walked him around the solarium.
Ivar sat beside Alva, his hand clasping hers, both seemingly unable to tear their gaze from the pudgy babe.
While I wasn’t a deeply religious man, I did pray for them daily.
“Thank you. I know that we’re all hungry and the boys are bored, so I won’t take too long so we can move to the dining room for the meal,” Papa said with a warm smile.
“I’ve been ruling this country for over forty years.
They’ve been good years, or at least I think they have been.
Many ups, few downs, and the people are still happy with our monarchy.
Still, over the past few years, I’ve seen a shift in the world.
The things that I was raised to believe are slowly being washed away as water wears down rock.
I’m now seventy years old. Your mother is…
well, I won’t say, for she will bar her bedroom door to me again if I do. ”
We all chuckled. Mama smiled regally.
“The world, and our country, is changing. For the good, I think, but the change that has come, and that will continue to come, needs a younger ruler to oversee them. I’ve had a few scales removed from my eyes concerning my sons and their choices in partners.
All I have ever wished for is for my children to be happy.
I see that Mitchell and Rani have brought great joy to Anders and Harold, as well as growth to a man, who I worried was incapable of maturity. ”
“He means me,” I said to Anders.
“Yes, I knew that,” Anders replied with a smirk.
I took Rani’s warm hand in mine to press a kiss to his knuckles.
Papa watched us—not with condemnation, but with what looked to be acceptance of a sort. That was a start.
“It is time to let the next generation rule this new world. Therefore, I am going to retire and renunciate the throne to Frode as soon as the documents are prepared and pass through parliament. I will make the formal announcement when the papers are finalized and legally registered. The queen and I will move into the hunting cabin on the coast, where we plan to raise a few chickens, travel the world, and enjoy our golden years.”
Mama reached up to clasp his free hand, her eyes dewy but happy.
Everyone sat stock still as the news sank in. Papa lifted his glass of wine to Frode. We all rose, even the young boys, though they had no real clue as to why.
“Reflecting on my time, I think of the people of ?stermon. I know that you, my son, will serve them with the same devotion, passion, and diligence I did. You will lead our lands into the future, where everyone will be free to love and wed who they wish. As the old sun sets, a new one rises over ?stermon. Let us raise our glasses to the future, to wisdom, and to a new era under King Frode.”
“Hear, hear!” we all shouted as we raised our glasses to the new king.
I gently nudged Rani in the side as Frode and Papa hugged it out in a rare display of affection from my father.
Not that Papa was cold, but he rarely embraced his sons, unlike Frode and Karina, who were always showering affection on their boys.
Just one example of hundreds of how the times had changed in our country.
“Perhaps someday we can get married here,” I whispered to Rani. His gaze flew to me, his dark eyes wide with shock.
“Let’s see what the next year or so holds for us,” he replied softly.
Always so tentative. Never one to just let go, but that was okay.
It was just one fabulous part of what made Rani so perfect for me.
We balanced each other out. He was practical.
While I, on the other hand, had already found a lovely flat on Prince’s Row in London for us.
I’d tell him very soon. Impromptu was my middle name after all.
“I know what it will hold. Incredible happiness for us both because I love you so very much.”
“Fireworks!” the boys bellowed in tandem before racing to the French doors to throw them open and run out onto the balcony.
Rani turned to look at me as the first bursts of color lit up the autumn sky. “As I love you,” he whispered before I leaned in to steal a kiss.
One of a hundred thousand or so I planned to share with him over the years to come.