“Exactly.” It sounded good anyway.
“And the two men are sure to be compared, both favorably and unfavorably to each other, but you love them both. You don’t want either one of them to come out looking poorly.”
Astrid nodded as she took a sip of her champagne. It wasn’t entirely the truth. On one level, she liked Jordan and didn’t want anyone to think poorly of him, but she was more concerned about the public’s memory of Andrei being tainted.
On another level, Jordan was going to be at her side for a very long time. It would be good if the people loved him like they thought she did.
“It will take some time to find your footing, with each other and with the public,” Lady Haverford went on. “Every new relationship, with a spouse or a royal couple with the public, needs time to sort itself out.”
“I know, and we are.”
Lady Haverford reached out and squeezed Astrid’s arm. “We’re all rooting for the two of you to figure out who this new couple is. You’re going to be fine.”
Astrid gave a weak smile. “Thank you. We appreciate the support.”
Lady Haverford smiled. “And here he is now.”
A hand slid around Astrid’s waist and pulled her close. Without looking, even without knowing anyone else would do such a thing, she knew it was Jordan.
“Good evening.” Jordan nodded his head toward Lady Haverford.
Astrid introduced Jordan to the other woman, and the three of them made small talk for a few minutes before Kensington joined them. After another quarter hour with Jordan’s arm around her waist, and inane discussions with people whose names she’d never remember, they finally made their way back to the car.
Astrid laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Most of the time, she loved being among the people of San Majoria at events like that, but not this time. She didn’t let herself delve too deeply into why that might be.
Jordan helped her out of the car when they returned to the palace. Jade waited for her near the door.
“Ma’am, Princess Sofia needs you.”
Worry settled deep inside. “What is it?”
“Nanny Gretchen said Princess Sofia is not feeling well and is asking for you.”
By the time Jade finished the statement, Astrid was halfway up the first staircase leading toward the family area of the palace. “How long has she had a fever? Is she throwing up? Messy diapers?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have those answers, ma’am. Nanny Gretchen called me about five minutes ago since she knew you’d be arriving home soon.”
Astrid stifled a sigh and hurried to her daughter’s room, right across the hall from the one she’d lived in since not long after Andrei’s death. Nanny Gretchen sat in the rocking chair holding Sofia. “How is she?” Astrid whispered.
“I gave her some medicine to bring the temperature down,” Nanny Gretchen said softly. “It’s starting to help. She just fell asleep.”
“How high was it?”
“About 102.” She rested her cheek on Sofia’s forehead. “She feels a bit cooler now. Would you like to take her?”
“For a few minutes, then I’ll need to go change.” Astrid gently took the sleeping little girl and rested Sofia’s head on her shoulder before taking Nanny Gretchen’s place in the rocker. Warmth from Sofia could be felt through Astrid’s dress. “Any idea what it is?”
Nanny Gretchen shook her head. “Nothing specific. Just a bit of a bug, I think. Kids get them all the time.”
“She doesn’t. She’s never really been sick before,” Astrid reminded her.
“But she is a little girl, and this is what happens to little girls. They come into contact with a bug they’ve never encountered before and get sick. She’s going to be fine, ma’am.”
Astrid kissed Sofia’s clammy forehead. “I know.”
Nanny Gretchen moved quietly around the room, picking up toys, and straightening things. After about fifteen minutes, she came back to Astrid’s side. “Let me take her, ma’am. Why don’t you go change?”
They traded the toddler back, and Nanny Gretchen took the rocker as Astrid leaned over and kissed Sofia’s head again. How quickly could she change and get back? She hurried out the door to find out.
15
Jordan tugged at the knot in his tie until it came loose in his hand. Astrid had hurried away with Jade as soon as they walked in the door. Kensington had answered his phone and taken off in a different direction.
And Jordan just wanted to find a kitchen where he could have a snack.
In a palace with several kitchens - he didn’t know how many - he didn’t know how to get to any of them.
He pulled out his phone, but he didn’t know who he planned to call to ask. It wasn’t like there was a map on it.
That would be useful though. Maybe someone had one he could use.
Up near the family quarters made the most sense. He did know how to get there.
The top floor of the residence wing held the monarch’s quarters. He figured, eventually, he’d end up living there. Someday. He had married the future queen and all. The next-to-top floor had a bunch of suites off the wide hall that ran the length of the wing. The stone walls were broken only by the widely-separated doors and occasional tapestries. A carpet ran the center of the entire length of the hall, with about a two-foot-wide section of stone floor on either side. He always did his best to stay on it, though he wasn’t sure which was actually more delicate.
The suite he was supposed to share with his wife was on the side facing the bay. Across from it, another two-bedroom suite and sitting room belonged to Sofia. A set of empty rooms served as a buffer between the Crown Princess’s family and the rest of the siblings. It was oddly reminiscent of a very fancy college dorm. He wasn’t sure which set of rooms belonged to which of his in-laws just yet.
But surely a kitchen hid behind at least one of the doors.
One of the other doors opened, and Queen Miriam walked out, closing it behind her.
“Jordan! How did the dinner go?”
He bowed slightly. “It went fine. At least as far as I know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been to anything like that before. How are you feeling?” Wasn’t she under the weather? Wasn’t that why he, Astrid, and Kensington had attended?
“I am feeling much better, thank you. I didn’t sleep well last night, and it caught up with me. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.” She gave him a smile and a wink before sliding her hand through his elbow. “Would you be so kind as to escort me to my quarters?”
“It would be my honor, but I do have a favor to ask in return.”
“Name it.”
“Where’s the kitchen?”
Laughter bubbled out of the regal queen. “Did no one give you a tour?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “No, can’t say that they did.”
“Then I’ll give you a brief one.” She pointed to the door she left from. “Do you know who lives there?”
“I’d say one of your children, but I have no idea which one.”
She gave him a very un-regal smirk. “You’re correct.” She ran a finger over the frame attached to the door. All of the rooms had them, bolted down so they wouldn’t rattle when the door opened and closed. “Each picture is chosen by the resident of the room. This room belongs to Jacqueline Grace. She loves horses.”
That explained the countryside scene with a family of horses in the foreground.
The queen pointed across the hall. “This room belongs to Harrison. He’s a fan of knights, or he was when he chose the picture. He may have outgrown it by now.”
They walked down the hall to the next set of doors. “Which one do you think belongs to who?” This time she was able to confine the smirk to her tone.
Jordan looked at the pictures. “I’m going to guess the unicorn, as wild as he looks, belongs to Princess Esther. Which would mean the door with the mountains is Prince Kensington.”
“Very good. However, you do kn
ow you don’t need to use their titles, don’t you? I know you have spent a fair bit of time with my sons especially.”
He felt his face color. “It’s the way I was raised. Even after my aunt and uncle told me I could call them by their first names, I couldn’t bring myself to. Prince, princess, queen, king, your royal highness, your majesty, all of that is pretty ingrained.”
“Do you still call your wife Princess Astrid?” she asked gently. “Or use Sofia’s title?”
“It’s easier with Sofia,” he admitted. “She’s a toddler.” They stopped in front of a door with a basket of fruit. “I’m going to guess this is a kitchen.”
“You guess correctly.”
Across the hall was a room with what seemed to be ancient Greeks reclining on sofas with strategically placed sheets. “And a common living area?”
“Right again.” She let go of his arm and went into the kitchen. “But do you call your wife by her title? Or your royal highness?”
“Not usually.” He hesitated then decided to go for it. “But the truth is, I’ve been so busy learning this prince thing that I haven’t seen her much since we got back from Eyjania.”
A frown marred the normally smooth skin of the queen’s forehead. “I thought your lessons were confined to working hours. Have they extended to commandeer your evenings as well?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then you don’t see your wife in the evening? For dinner? Conversations before bed? Pillow talk?”
She was surprisingly unembarrassed by her last statement. Jordan dared to be relaxed in the presence of the queen and leaned with his forearms propped on the stainless steel counter. “I rarely see her for more than a few minutes.” He needed to confide in someone. From everything he knew about her, his mother-in-law seemed like a good choice. “She sleeps in Sofia’s room. At least, I presume that’s where she sleeps.” He couldn’t look his mother-in-law in the eye.
“Ah.” There was far more understanding in her voice than he would have expected. “And you’re afraid to force the issue, as it were, because you’re afraid she’ll run. Or you’re afraid she’ll get too close and discover your secret before you’re ready to tell her.”
His head jerked up. “He told you?”
“My husband and I seldom have secrets from each other, at least not any that aren’t state secrets, and even then he keeps very little from me.”
Jordan pinched the bridge of his nose. “And someday, I need to fill the role you do. I need to be the one she comes to, and she’s going to need me to be that, but if this goes on much longer, we’re going to be in this semi-affectionate, not-really-a-marriage thing and not know how to get out.”
“Don’t let her do that. She doesn’t realize it, but she needs you to get into her world, into her personal space. Don’t force anything, but turn on that easy Canadian charm and don’t take no for an answer. Before you know it, she’ll realize what a wonderful man you are and want to keep you around.” She winked at him. “I don’t think it will be all that difficult.”
Jordan thanked her for the tour and advice, taking a snack out of the fridge and going back to his dressing room. Changing into his pajamas, he decided to leave his shirt off. He’d taken to wearing it in case Astrid showed up in their room, but this time he didn’t care about making her more comfortable when she refused to really acknowledge their relationship. He stared out the window at the lights twinkling in the city and docks below.
The door to Astrid’s dressing room opened, and he turned to see her walking out. “We need to talk.”
“Can it wait?” She pulled her hair up into a ponytail. “Sofia’s running a fever. She’s never done that before, and I need to be there.”
He steeled his resolve. “It won’t take long, but there’s something I need you to know.”
“What’s that?”
“I won’t be friend-zoned, Astrid.” As he talked to the queen, he’d realized that’s what his wife was doing. “Whatever else is going on, I won’t let that happen.”
“What?” Astrid tried to look innocent of his accusation.
The Jordan who walked toward her was both familiar and not. The bare chest with its scars was the same on the beach paired with board shorts as it was in the bedroom with pajama pants covered in maple leaves.
The hard look in his eyes was new.
“I won’t be friend-zoned. I’m your husband. I will take it as slowly as you need, but I will not be friend-zoned.”
“I don’t understand.” She’d never heard the phrase, but understood its meaning nonetheless.
“You’ve kissed me once since the wedding, and that was when I kissed you out on the ice. You pat my shoulder. We occasionally do things together, but you won’t hold my hand or take my arm unless we’re in public. Then it’s only because you don’t want anyone to know what a sham this is. You smile a little too brightly, then make an excuse to sleep in your daughter’s room. How long have we been married? And how many times have we shared a bed, regardless of the activities that would not be taking place in it?”
“Weeks,” she whispered. “Once.” Tears threatened again. Then only because she couldn’t take the humiliation - for both of them - if it became known they didn’t sleep in the same room on their wedding night.
His steady advance stopped when he reached her, her vision of his face blurred by tears. “I’m not your friend, Astrid. I’m your husband.” His hand came to the side of her face cradling it as his fingers threaded into her hair. “You may not be ready for the physical intimacies that come with marriage, but if you deny me progress on the emotional side, there will be no more heirs, and I may as well go live in the cottage on the beach.”
Before she could respond, protest that what he said wasn’t true, though she knew it was, he kissed her.
But this kiss wasn’t like any kiss before.
Hard. Demanding. Taking.
And yet, not.
Jordan would never take anything she didn’t willingly give, be it a kiss or something more, and Astrid found herself responding to him in a way she never had before.
Not even with Andrei.
That last thought slipped in as coherence fled under the onslaught of Jordan’s touch.
Astrid whimpered and wound her arms around his neck, lifting herself onto her toes as she kissed him more fully.
Just as quickly as it began, it ended, and Jordan was once more across the bedroom. One hand rested on his hip and the other ran through his hair then gripped the back of his neck as he stared out the window.
He turned. “I won’t take from you, Astrid. I know society’s made it a bigger deal for women than men, but I won’t give to you what I’ve never given another woman. Not yet. Not until it’s more than just physical. But don’t forget who I am and whose name you said in front of God, church, and country.”
“I won’t.” How could she when that kiss would replay in her mind for eternity?
His expression finally softened. “Go to Sofia. She needs you tonight.”
Astrid felt her brows knit together. “But you said...”
“It’s not about tonight. Tonight, she’s running a fever and needs her mother. It’s about all the other nights when you should sleep in your husband’s bed, not your daughter’s room.”
His tone had changed so dramatically from a few minutes earlier that Astrid smiled at the thought.
“What?”
“That’s not your bed,” she pointed out. “Technically, it’s not mine either. It’s like three hundred years old. Meticulously maintained, of course, but dozens of other couples have likely slept in it before us.”
He rolled his eyes. “And dozens of other couples have done far more than sleep. The point remains.”
“I know.” His words had struck where they were supposed to. “I promise I’ll try to do better.”
“Don’t try. Do.” He walked back toward her, his hand coming to cradle her face again. “One day at a time. One night at a time. Purpose in yo
ur heart to find a way to grow a little closer to me. We’ll get there as long as we’re both on the same path.”
This time when he kissed her, it was the Jordan she’d known before the wedding. Tender, gentle, but underlying it all, bridled passion.
When he moved back, Jordan rested his forehead on hers. “Go take care of Sofia before I try to convince you to stay.” With a kiss to her hairline, he let her go. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Astrid watched him walk toward the bathroom and wondered.
What if she wanted to stay?
What if she wanted to be his wife in deed as well as by law?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Nanny Gretchen said Sofia was asking for her again.
One day soon, she’d join her husband in bed symbolically as well as physically, but that night wasn’t this one.
Heart aching over what they’d both lost for the time being, Astrid turned and headed for her daughter’s room across the hall.
For the first time since the second night of their marriage, she found herself wishing to fall asleep elsewhere.
16
“What is this thing we’re going to? And why do I need board shorts? I thought members of the royal family didn’t wear shorts in public.” Jordan tugged his wetsuit shirt on as he walked back into the bedroom, the one he still hadn’t shared with his wife. But, after two days, Sofia was on the mend, so soon. Things had been going better. Astrid had made a conscious effort to spend more time with him. In fact, they’d had dinner and breakfast together once and lunch twice, though only once alone.
“It’s the annual carnival for sick and recovering children. Some have or had cancer. Some have chronic diseases, like diabetes or chromosomal disorders. Things like that.”
“That doesn’t explain the board shorts.”
Astrid just smiled sweetly at him. “You’ll see. There will be games and craft booths. Many of the children’s families do fundraisers to help cover their expenses. You’ll find booths with their t-shirts or artwork or other goods that they sell. We don’t buy any, by the way. If we bought one, we’d have to buy them all. Instead, we make donations and raise funds other ways.”
Crowns & Courtships Compilation Volume 1 Page 12