Vicious King
Just thinking about how close we were drives me a little mad. I want her in every sense of the word. I have to find a way to get back what is mine. My hand balls into a tight fist and I turn toward the east wing with my head held high. I may be a disgraced king, but I am still a king—her king. It’s high time I find a way to win my queen back and show her the love she so deserves.
Chapter Six—Mykaella
If he asks me back, I doubt I could say no. It was hard enough yesterday when he was pleading with me and apologizing.
I stretch behind in my seat, releasing tension in my back and shoulders. Picking up today’s paper, I inspect the front page. Several more copies of different tabloids and papers, including one on my laptop, are sat out before me—all with the same grainy image as their front page headliner; Mads and me locked in that embrace in the royal hallway.
Thinking about that moment makes me ache in undignified ways. Mads has definitely changed and I do believe he’s truly sorry for the emotional upset his charges brought on my house, but I’m still angry at him. Angry, and hungry. That man could always melt me into a puddle of stupid with his smile. Not to mention he’s always been in top form where his body is concerned, but he felt even more solid and defined—stronger. Why, he could probably pick me up and—no, I will not finish that train of thought. I shake my head and pick up one of the closest tabloids to get a good look at the picture of us.
Someone had a really powerful lens and a good shot into the royal hallway. Several someones are profiting off these images of the paroled, disgraced, and estranged king and I. Our first real moment together in nearly two years and it’s plastered all over the place for the world to see and scrutinize. I suppose the plan to “play it safe” can be chucked out the window at this point.
Gerrie walks in and sets my phone down on a silver tray beside me, collecting the plates and cups from my breakfast. I could have taken breakfast in the dining room, but my study seemed the safest refuge.
“It’s Svea, your grace” Gerrie says, motioning to the phone as she takes the dishes out with her.
I pick up a napkin, wipe my mouth, and then grab the phone from the tray. “Hello, Svea,” I say into the cellphone.
“Good morning mother,” she says and sucks in a breath. “I see you and dad have been making headlines again.”
I can hear her smile through the receiver and pinch my own lips together. Svea, our eldest daughter, has never been too shy about speaking her mind. She’s now a journalist, so I suppose she continues the practice of speaking her mind, you could say. But, she’s happy and that has always been my first priority for my children.
“It would seem we cannot avoid it,” I mutter, folding up the papers and then stacking them neatly in a pile to be thrown in the trash. “Just another mess from your father for me to clean up,” I mutter.
“I dunno, I think it’s kind of romantic,” Svea says, and then rushes through as if out of breath with, “I mean, you guys are like living in a real-world, royal reality show. Will she take him back? It’s anyone's guess!” Svea giggles.
“You are having a touch too much fun with this, my dear child.”
“Oh, you don’t even know. Mother, my office, and several others, are all making pools and taking bets on how long it will be before you take dad back. I’m giving you a few days, and that’s generous.”
She’s always called me the more formal ‘mother’ but then her father gets the more relaxed ‘dad’ accolade. Why is that? Have I always been too formal, even as a mother, I wonder. I shake my head and try to calm my temper over the fact that people are betting on my personal affairs. Of course Svea romanticized the situation. She’s always been a romantic, even as a child. Right now, I need someone in my corner, is that too much to ask?
“Seriously? That’s a bit ridiculous don’t you agree? It’s my personal affair, not yours, your office, the media, or anyone else for that matter. Can’t they find something else to busy their gossip columns with?” I snap back. And that is why I am and will forever be ‘mother’ to my children. Nice job, Mykaella, always winning at the cool mom vibe. Not that I’ve ever had time to hone my motherly nature—not with my duties constantly over my head. I want the best for my children, yes, but I also have to think about my people and my position while also trying to support my children.