Jordan shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “What can I do about it? I’m just the new guy who doesn’t know what protocols he can break and which ones he can’t.”
“Implying that as the king, I know and can?”
He shrugged.
The king rested a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “Maybe. But I’m no longer the one charged with taking care of her.”
With those words, the king walked off, leaving Jordan to think about what his father-in-law had said. Maybe taking care of Astrid was more important than what protocol he might be breaking. That had been his thought, but he didn’t want to inadvertently do something to offend his new family.
After taking a deep breath to steel himself, Jordan walked to the other side of the Reception Room, where the photographer was taking pictures of Astrid. He waited for the photographer to finish the series he was taking, then stepped in.
“Excuse me, but I’d like a moment with my wife.” Jordan took her hand and turned to the photographer. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.” Maybe.
Astrid gave him a puzzled look, but didn’t say anything as he led her to the closest set of doors. He had no idea where they went. In fact, the room was barely lit when they walked in.
“You know this is the throne room, right?” Astrid asked as the door closed behind them.
“I don’t really care.” Jordan dropped her hand and turned to face her before linking the fingers of both hands with hers. “I care that you’re okay, and I don’t think you are.”
The mask finally slipped, just a little. She lowered her chin so he couldn’t see her eyes. “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”
“Marrying someone who’s not the love of your life?” he asked gently, letting go of her hands and pulling her into his arms instead.
“I want you to be,” she whispered.
“I know, but I’m not. Not yet. And you have to put on your happy face for the rest of the world. But I’m not the rest of the world, Astrid. I’m your husband. I’m supposed to be your safe place.”
“I shouldn’t need a safe place an hour after the wedding.”
“But you do.” He looked around. How were there no chairs in the throne room? He didn’t think she’d sit on either throne at the far end of the hall. With no other options, he just held her for a few minutes, but then she pushed away.
“Thank you. I did need a few minutes to gather myself, but I’m fine, and we need to be back in there.” She squared her shoulders and headed for the door back into the other room. Sweeping her train to the side, she looked at him. “Ready?”
“If you are.” Jordan opened the door and held it for her as she walked through. Once back at her side, he slid his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. “But I’m sticking a lot closer for now.”
She just nodded.
The photographer decided it was time for the pictures of the two of them. Jordan liked being so close to Astrid, even kissing her repeatedly. They took pictures inside and out, with and without Sofia.
Then Jordan was asked to stand to the side while pictures were taken of Astrid and her daughter. The small entourage started back inside, but Jordan had other ideas.
“May I?” he asked the photographer, pointing to the camera. “I’m not sure what happened to my camera when I moved to the hotel suite.”
The photographer seemed hesitant, but changed the SD card then handed it over. Astrid and Sofia didn’t seem to notice. Jordan looked through the viewfinder and snapped a couple of pictures. It wasn’t the same as his own candid shots, though. He’d have to find his camera, or invest in a better one, and take some of his own in the next few days. Wasn’t that why he had an assistant?
Handing the camera back, he joined the photographer walking inside. “Do you think you could get with Thomas for me? I have a camera somewhere, but I haven’t seen it in a few weeks. I’d been thinking about upgrading anyway. Could the two of you come up with something in the next day or two?”
The photographer asked a couple of questions then said he’d take care of it. “Actually...” He stopped just inside the doors. “If you want it right away, I have one that I think would be perfect. You’re not a professional, but not quite a beginner either. But, it is used.”
Jordan shrugged. “Fine by me, as long as it works.”
“The battery needs charging, but as far as I know it does. I used it a few weeks ago. I haven’t used it often, because it’s my personal camera, and I don’t take a lot of pictures in my off time.”
Jordan protested, saying he didn’t want to take the man’s personal camera, but the other man insisted. Thanking him, Jordan made a mental note to tell Thomas to make sure the photographer was well compensated.
Once inside, the photographer had them get in the car and head to the beach for pictures. Now that he knew Jordan was an amateur photographer, apparently he had some other ideas. The two of them walked through the sand and the surf barefoot. Jordan shed his jacket and rolled up his pant legs. The photographer gave him an old camera to take a few pictures of Astrid with. Probably not a true antique, but definitely not from this century.
After a while, they went back to the palace. Adam took care of making sure Jordan’s legs and clothes were sand free, something Jordan found more than a little odd. Martina did the same for Astrid.
He put his shoes back on as the event planner motioned to him. Right. Time for the dinner.
He turned around. Where was his wife?
11
Astrid stood in her dressing room in her stockinged feet and waited for Martina.
“Are you sure you want me, ma’am?” Martina asked as she closed the door behind her. “Wouldn’t your husband be more appropriate?”
Astrid swept her hair to the side to allow Martina access to the back of the dress, but didn’t reply. She could sense Martina’s disapproval as the other woman undid the clasp.
“It’s not the same, is it?” Martina asked softly. “You’re not ready.”
“No. It’s not.” Astrid stared at the floor in front of her. Martina had been nowhere to be seen the night Astrid married Andrei.
A few minutes later, Astrid was in her pajamas, and walking into the room she would now share with Jordan. He waited for her in there, hands in his pockets as he stared out the window, one that overlooked the water.
“I told you I made sure I had an ocean view.”
Jordan turned. He still wore his tuxedo, but his tie and sash were gone. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, and it had come untucked.
“It’s over,” he said, leaning against the wall.
“It is,” she confirmed. For nearly two years, the room had belonged to her alone. She chose the bedding, the curtains, the other furnishings around the suite. Now, it would likely all change. Jordan wouldn’t like the prints she’d chosen because she loved them, because her more feminine style wouldn’t fit his. Even the ornate chairs, dating from the time of the San Majorian Revolution, would likely be replaced or recovered. At least the stone walls couldn’t be painted.
“What now?” he asked.
“We leave tomorrow for a week in Eyjania.”
“We do?”
Astrid sank into a chair. “Our honeymoon. We’re supposed to try to spend some time with King Benjamin while we’re there. Sofia is coming with us, along with several staff members. We will be mostly left alone.”
Jordan walked over and sat in the chair next to her. “I know you’re not ready for this, but are you okay with at least sleeping in the same bed with me?”
“Yes.” Because she didn’t want anyone to know she didn’t sleep with her husband.
He looked at her for a minute then stood. “Okay then. Good. I’m going to change.”
By the time he returned, Astrid had settled into the bed, on the opposite side from where she normally slept. “Do you mind that side?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
Astrid felt the bed dip and the covers move as he got set
tled.
“Good night, Mrs. Haines.”
She closed her eyes as his fingertips brushed against the hair at her temple.
“I’m glad you married me.”
It took supreme effort, but she managed to speak normally. “I’m glad I did, too.”
“Sleep well.”
“You, too.”
Only the length of the day and the strength of her exhaustion allowed Astrid to drift to sleep quickly.
Twenty-four hours later, they were in Eyjania. Breakfast with their families had gone well. The flight had been smooth.
But Sofia had not settled into the new house well. In fact, she was throwing a fit. Astrid didn’t want Gretchen to deal with it. She wanted to be a mother to her daughter. It was her job to take care of her little girl.
She stared at the picture in the frame hanging from the wall. Her grandparents. Her grandfather had always known how to calm Astrid down. Would any of his tricks work on Sofia? Did Astrid remember any of his tricks or did she just love her grandfather enough to let him calm her? Or was she in awe of him? He’d been king from the time she was born until his death when she was three. She hadn’t truly understood what it meant for her until a decade later, when a girl she thought was her friend told her she’d never find someone who would love her. She’d only ever find one who wanted the glamour and prestige of marrying the crown princess.
Then she began paying a little more attention. Many of her friends were really more acquaintances, ones she couldn’t trust to get close. That changed when she met Andrei. He saw her, really saw her.
Most of the time.
Even as Andrei’s daughter threw a fit on the floor of the Eyjanian nursery, Astrid could admit that he hadn’t always seen her the way she wanted to be seen. He saw more than the crown she’d one day wear, but he occasionally had more rigid ideas about what the Second Couple of San Majoria should and shouldn’t do.
Like affection in public. He was okay with that to a point, just like Astrid was, but...
Push to be able to wear clothing that stood out a bit more than your average piece of toast? Never. Too much attention. Too easy for a sniper. Too plebian. Too not becoming a crown princess.
Not even pointing out Queen Elizabeth’s wardrobe, or the Duchess of Cambridge’s, helped. Astrid had always worn a lot of tan, beige, off-white, and she’d hoped he’d support her in filling her wardrobe with clothes more exciting than chocolate, but he never had.
Sofia’s fit throwing slowed down until she finally fell asleep on the floor. Astrid let herself slide to the side until her head rested on the pillow of the extra bed in the nursery.
Jordan probably waited for her in the bedroom they were supposed to share, but she didn’t have the energy or willpower to move. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt herself drift to sleep.
Married almost forty-eight hours, and his wife already slept elsewhere.
Jordan wondered if he should get dressed before he went to look for her, but decided not to. This was his home for the moment. He did pull on a t-shirt, but his Canucks pajama pants would work.
He didn’t open any of the doors off the hallway, just in case someone else was sleeping or getting dressed, but he did peek in a few that weren’t completely closed.
In one, a few doors down from the room Thomas had shown him to, Jordan found Astrid and Sofia.
Sofia lay curled up on a rug that likely dated back a century or more with the blanket he’d discovered was her favorite. An ornate crib hadn’t been slept in, but the twin bed, likely put there for a nanny, served as a sleeping place for the exhausted mom.
Astrid still wore her clothes from the day before. The last few weeks had taken so much out of her. She needed the rest.
He turned to leave, but Sofia began to stir. Her eyes blinked open, and she reached up for him.
Jordan lifted her into his arms and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. Sofia rested her head on his shoulder.
He carried her down the hall and then to the first floor where he found Nanny Gretchen in the kitchen. “I think I found a hungry little girl.”
Sofia nodded against his shoulder.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got breakfast just about ready then, isn’t it?” Nanny Gretchen held out her hands for Sofia. “Why don’t we get you washed up, little one?”
Jordan left the two of them to do their thing then went toward the other hall where he’d been told his office would be for the next week.
Why did he need an office on his honeymoon?
It seemed this would be a working vacation of sorts, though. Not that he knew what his new job as Prince of San Majoria and Duke of Bevingdale entailed.
Two desks were set up in the outer office with doors on either side. Thomas looked up from one of them, stood and bowed. “Can I help you, sir?”
“I’d like to arrange something for my wife.” It sounded so weird to say it like that. “Can you help me with that?”
“Of course.” Did the man sound indignant? How was Jordan supposed to know what landed outside Thomas’s duties?
“I’d like to give her a spa day of some kind. I don’t really know what the options are, but definitely a massage.”
“Of course, sir. Would you like this for today?”
“If you can, that would be great. If not, as soon as you can arrange it.”
“I will see what I can do. I was just informed that you have a meeting with the head of Princess Astrid’s security team in five minutes.” He pointed to the door behind him. “Your office is in here when you are in Eyjania.”
Jordan managed not to glance down at his attire, though he was sure Thomas had already noted it. “I’ll go change and be back in a few minutes.”
“No need, sir.” The new voice startled him.
Jordan turned to see Astrid’s main security guard walk in.
“This will only take a few minutes.”
Jordan went into the office, and the guard closed the door behind them.
The man held out a box. “Your updated electronic devices, sir.”
“Pardon?”
“We took your phone and tablet last night, cloned them, updated the security, and reinstalled everything onto new devices.”
Jordan took the box from him. “And I didn’t even notice.”
The man didn’t comment.
“I know we’ve been introduced at least once, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Don, sir.”
Jordan held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Don. I promise I’ll try not to forget.”
Don looked unsure, but shook Jordan’s hand, the expression on his face remaining unchanged. “I’d rather you promise to follow security instructions and protocol at all times.”
“I can promise I will always do my best to cooperate with whatever you and your men deem necessary. Thank you for everything you do to keep my new family safe.”
“It has been my family’s honor for five generations, sir.”
“Thanks to your ancestors then, too.”
Don’s eyes shifted to the side and then back to the front. His stoic expression flickered just enough for Jordan to catch it, but not enough to determine what it was. He’d have to keep his eyes and ears open in conversations with Don. Something bothered the man, but Jordan didn’t know him well enough to ask.
Jordan held up the box. “Thanks for this.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
Another thought occurred to Jordan. “You may not know the answer to this, but Astrid said I’ll have access to some bank accounts.” Ones with far more money than he’d ever hoped to see in his lifetime, combined. “If I wanted to buy something online and have it shipped here or San Majoria, is all that information already in here? Am I logged into the right accounts on Amazon or whatever?”
“You should be. However, it would be better for you to tell Thomas what you want, and he can take care of procuring it for you. He likely has better channels to do
so than you have access to.”
Jordan nodded. “Okay. If I wanted to order something from my own bank accounts, ones I already have, is that an issue?”
A slight crease appeared between Don’s brows. “I wouldn’t think so, as long as you use the devices we’ve approved.”
“Thanks.” If he wanted to buy a present for his wife or new daughter, he might want to do it with his own money. Nothing extravagant, but something. And it should be from him, at least for now. Maybe once he felt like he was part of the family, he would have less of an issue giving them a gift purchased with money he had access to only because he’d married Astrid.
He’d look later, but in the meantime, he needed to get to know his step-daughter better. He thanked Don again, and went back to the kitchen to eat breakfast with his favorite little girl.
12
Astrid didn’t know what time she woke up, but she did know she’d slept for a long time. Something she hadn’t done nearly enough of leading up to the wedding.
One part of her felt guilty. Married for less than two days, and she’d already slept apart from her husband. The rest of her didn’t. She hadn’t wanted to marry him anymore than he wanted to marry her. He wouldn’t care that she slept apart.
When she went to the room she normally occupied, she found her things, as well as Jordan’s, put away in the closet. She took off her clothes from the day before, pinned her hair up and took a quick shower, then dressed in something casual. The tan slacks and white shirt, paired with darker brown loafers, fit her mood.
Downstairs, she found Nanny Gretchen putting up the rest of breakfast.
“Did you sleep well, ma’am?” she asked.
“Well enough.”
“Would you like me to make something for you?”
Astrid shook her head. “No, thank you.” There were supposed to be bagels. She found them in a cabinet and tore off a bit. “Where’s Sofia?”
“She’s with the duke.” Gretchen put the bagel box back.
Crowns & Courtships Compilation Volume 1 Page 9