The Reluctant Princess

by Christine Rimmer

  Three weeks, effective immediately, would have been better. That would have covered the entire length of time she planned to stay. But that wasn’t possible. He must fight for his king.

  And it should be all right. He felt reasonably certain he could avoid contact with her for the week to come. The king would keep her busy with tours and parties. And Hauk would stay near the stables and the training yard. It would all be so new to her. If she had a thought or two of him, she’d have no idea how to seek him out.

  “I thank you, Majesty.”

  The huge ruby glittered as the king waved his hand. “Fight well for me. Then take your month and enjoy it. We have no crises brewing. There’s a good chance your holiday will be uninterrupted.”

  Elli’s limousine rolled into the huge paved court at the grand front entrance to her father’s palace. The black escort cars kept going, down a side driveway and out of sight.

  The aide led her up the wide steps, between the intricately carved pillars, past the stone dragons and the statues of Odin and Freyja and Thor and turned her over to a phalanx of beautifully dressed young women who fisted their pretty hands to their designer-clad hearts and bowed their lovely heads.

  One, a tall, graceful redhead with freckles across her patrician nose, stepped forward. “We are your ladies, Your Highness. I am Kaarin Karlsmon, first among those who will serve you.” Kaarin was wearing a particularly fetching ensemble of midnight-blue silk with a pencil-thin skirt and a short, tight little jacket that showed off her trim figure. All the women wore beautiful jewels, to go with the gorgeous clothes.

  Elli smiled and nodded and murmured hello over and over as each of the ladies introduced herself.

  Finally, they led her inside, up a sweeping stone staircase and down a number of hallways to a set of wide carved doors. A pair of guards in red-and-black uniforms stood at attention, flanking the doors.

  Elli’s heart leaped in glad excitement. At last. She would meet her father.

  But when the guards pulled the doors wide, she found herself looking through a marble-floored entrance area to a huge, beautifully decorated high-ceilinged drawing room—and no sign of the king, or anyone else for that matter.

  “Your rooms, Your Highness,” Lady Kaarin announced.

  Elli was becoming a little tired of all the pomp and circumstance—not to mention the absence of the one person she’d come here to see. “Where’s my father?”

  Lady Kaarin smiled brightly. “He eagerly awaits you. But first, we are honored to make you comfortable, to see you bathed and suitably attired.”

  Elli thought, I’m clean and I’m ready. But she decided that announcing as much probably wouldn’t sound very regal. She leaned close to the tall redhead and asked in a whisper, “I wonder…may I just call you Kaarin?”

  “Certainly, Your—”

  “And you’ll call me Elli.”

  “Absolutely, Elli.” Kaarin’s soft mouth bloomed in a delighted smile.

  “Kaarin, I must admit…”

  “Anything, Your, er, Elli. Feel free to confide in me.”

  “Right now, I’d like a…reduction in my retinue. Say, just you. Could that be arranged?”

  “Of course.” Kaarin turned to the others. “Thank you all. The princess wishes her privacy now.”

  Dainty fists flew to chests, followed by a flurry of fawning farewells. And a minute later, Kaarin and Elli entered the spectacular drawing room alone.

  Even Elli, who’d been raised in wealth and privilege, was impressed. The drawing room was big enough to use as a ballroom. More double doors led to a smaller sitting room. There was a fully equipped kitchen off the sitting room for any time she might have a sudden desire to whip herself up a little something to nosh on.

  Kaarin laughed at that idea. “Of course you wouldn’t, er, ‘whip something up’ yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t?”

  “A cook will be sent to you. And a chambermaid, of course. Cook and maid will be at your service at all times.”

  There were two baths. The largest, off the bigger of the two bedrooms, included a whirlpool large enough to swim in and a sauna, double sinks and dual showers. Each room had huge fireplaces, with mantels of stone or dark wood intricately carved with dragons and Viking ships and scenes from the myths. The fireplaces all had beautiful inserts. Kaarin explained that they now burned gas. Gullandria was rich in oil, which meant that gas heat was more economical than burning wood or coal.

  With a sweeping gesture, Kaarin indicated the whole huge suite. “Will it do?”

  “It’s lovely. Now, when will I see my father?”

  Elli’s father, at that moment, was closeted with his Grand Counselor.

  Beyond being his top advisor, Medwyn was also Osrik’s closest—really his only—friend. The two had been bloodbound forty years before, when Osrik was a boy of twelve and Medwyn a bachelor and scholar of twenty-seven. At first, Medwyn had been Osrik’s mentor and teacher. But time had made them equals. When the kingmaking had put Osrik on the throne, he’d risen above his friend.

  Except when they were alone. To be bloodbound, after all, was to be closer than brothers, to share undying loyalty and support, each to the other. Osrik and Medwyn were bloodbound in the truest sense. When Osrik was alone with his friend, all the formalities that set him apart as royalty could fall away.

  The two were discussing Osrik’s recent interview with the warrior.

  “There seemed,” remarked Medwyn thoughtfully, “something amiss with him. And much between the lines.”

  Osrik shrugged. “With Hauk, it always seems that way. The man is a true soldier. He’ll never say two words where one will do. If we’d wanted conversation and clever analysis, we should have sent Finn Danelaw.” Prince Danelaw was a notorious charmer—handsome and cunning, a master of intrigue. He owned a honeyed tongue and a tender manner no woman could resist. He bowed to no one but his king, to whom he was always unfailingly loyal.

  Had they sent Finn to collect Elli, he would have had detail upon detail to share with them when he returned—what pleased Elli, what made her frown, what political positions she took—and what she yearned for in her most secret heart.

  Also, Finn would have had a wealth of information about Ingrid….

  But, no. There had been the possibility that Elli would have to be taken by force. Hauk was the best man for that.

  And the choice of Danelaw would have presented one completely unacceptable risk.

  Osrik said, “In the end, I still believe we were wise to decide against young Danelaw. He’s too good with women. Elli most likely would have ended up in love with him—as all the women do. We’d have had a royal mess on our hands.”

  Medwyn was nodding his white head. “The warrior has done the job assigned him. He’s brought your chosen daughter safely home.”

  “I will get to know at least one of my lost girls at last.” When he thought of that word, lost, Osrik felt sadness like a dark cloud pressing all around him.

  A wife. Three daughters. One son and then the other. He had lost too much. It was time he took something back. “Eric?” he asked. “Still in the Vildelund?”

  Like their fathers before them, Eric Greyfell and Valbrand Thorson had been bloodbound. Medwyn’s son had been groomed all his life to walk in his father’s shoes, to step up as Grand Counselor when the jarl declared Valbrand king. Both fathers had felt an inner peace that the future was as assured as any future could be.

  All that was gone now.

  Lost.

  Eric—until then the most reasonable young man it had ever been Osrik’s joy to know—had been crazed with grief at the disappearance of his friend. He’d insisted on striking off by sea to find out the truth of what had happened to Valbrand. He was determined to learn if vengeance was called for—and if so, to carry it out.

  He’d returned a month ago having achieved little satisfaction in his quest. Everyone told the same story. There had been a storm and Valbrand was washed overboard. Eric could
find no evidence of treachery.

  Still grieving, still unsatisfied with the explanations of his friend’s death, Eric had stopped only briefly to see his father, then headed straight for his family’s village in the Vildelund—the wild country beyond the Black Mountains. Eric, like Valbrand, was much beloved by the people, but like his father, he owned a Mystic’s heart. He found solace in the wild.

  Medwyn was nodding. “I’ll send for him, at your command.”

  “Give him time,” said Osrik. “It would be better if he came on his own, better if it all happened…naturally. You know how young people are. Giving them orders only makes them determined not to do what’s best for everyone.”

  “He’s become something of a recluse since the tragedy last year. A command may be necessary to get him here.”

  “Still. We can wait awhile. And right now, I want to get to know this daughter of mine.”

  The two men regarded each other. There was no need to say more.

  From all reports, Elli Thorson was a woman of integrity and strength. She was intelligent and beautiful, yet yielding, too. Not as driven and career-obsessed as her older sister, not as wild and contrary as the younger. Of Osrik’s three daughters, Elli would make the best queen—especially, since, of the three, his spies had told him that Elli was the one who talked of marriage. Of children.

  The fathers had it all planned. When Elli met Eric Greyfell, each would see the value in the other. Marriage would follow. When the time for the kingmaking came around again, Eric would be chosen.

  And Elli would be his queen.

  And if the gods smiled but for a moment on King Osrik Balderath Crosby Aesir Harald Einer Thorson, the day would come when his grandson would sit on the throne of Gullandria.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kaarin insisted Elli take a long, hot bath. “And a sauna, too,” Kaarin suggested. “There is nothing so effective at cleansing the body of toxins and impurities.”

  “Right. So does that mean you’d like a sauna yourself?”

  “Your Highness, nothing would delight me more.”

  Before she saunaed with Kaarin, Elli called her mother. She got lucky and found Ingrid at home.

  “Are you all right? You arrived safely?”

  “Mom. I’m here. I’m fine. The palace is beautiful.”

  “Your father…?”

  “I’ll be seeing him soon. Call Brit and Liv, will you? Tell them I got here without a hitch and everything is all right.”

  “Nanna told me you left yesterday. I heard about that big storm on the east coast. Did you—”

  “We had to land and wait it out in Boston.” And it was the most perfect, incredible night of my life. “And now I’m here in Gullandria. Safe and sound.”

  “You’ll call me, immediately, if you have a single…worry.”

  “Oh, Mom. Stop it. I’m fine and I’ll be fine.”

  By the time Elli said goodbye to her mother, the chambermaid had appeared. She took charge of Elli and Kaarin’s discarded clothes and offered huge white towels. Elli and Kaarin went into the wooden room together.

  Ten minutes later Elli insisted she’d had enough. So they got out and stood under an icy shower spray, both of them shivering, Elli making whimpering sounds that had Kaarin giggling.

  At last, Elli was allowed to climb into a scented bath and float for a while. That was nice. Soothing. Elli lay back and watched the steam trail up toward the arched stone ceiling and tried not to wonder what Hauk might be doing now.

  After the bath came a real shower—in civilized warm water. Then Elli dried her hair and put on her usual light makeup. In the bedroom, the maid had laid out a hot pink number of lustrous silk that rivaled the one Kaarin wore. Elli put it on. It fit as if it had been made for her—which, she realized, it probably had.

  “I think you are ready now to meet His Majesty.” Kaarin was back in her blue silk and looking fantastic. She led the way.

  It was a long walk, up one corridor and down another. At last, they turned a corner and came to another set of tall guarded doors.

  “I’ll leave you now,” said Kaarin. “For this first meeting, your father wishes to see you alone.”

  Elli had hoped he would wish just that. “Thank you. For everything.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Your Highness. I’ll return in an hour. You’ll find me waiting to escort you to your rooms when the visit is through.” Kaarin set off down the hall and the guards opened the doors.

  And there he was.

  Her father.

  So tall and handsome, in a beautifully cut designer suit, with eyes as kind as the voice she remembered from their phone conversation four days—and what seemed like a lifetime—before. The doors closed behind her and they were alone.

  “Little Old Giant,” he said.

  The fond words did the trick. With a glad cry, Elli ran to him. He caught her in his arms and he held her close.

  “I’m so glad you’ve come.” He squeezed her tighter and rocked them both from side to side.

  “Oh, Father. So am I.”

  Dinnertime had passed hours ago, but she’d had no chance to eat. In consideration of that, he’d had a simple meal laid out near one of the tall windows. They sat down across from each other.

  Oh, he was kind. She could see it in his wise eyes, hear it in his gentle voice. Everything about him spoke of goodness. Now she’d finally met him, she couldn’t comprehend why her mother had left him, what the deep, dark secret could be that had torn the two of them—and their family—apart.

  As she looked at her father, Elli realized that in spite of everything—her mother’s fears, her sister’s warnings, in spite of losing Hauk when she’d barely managed to find him—she was glad she’d come.

  Osrik asked her about her mother and her sisters and her life in Sacramento. She answered honestly and in detail and more than once had the feeling he already knew what she was telling him.

  She supposed that didn’t surprise her. Looking at him now, she knew in her heart that he’d never really given them up—not her, not her sisters. And not her mother, either.

  He would have kept tabs on them over the years. And that didn’t offend her in the least. He was her father, after all. Of course he’d want to know how his family was doing.

  She longed to question him about Hauk—if he’d asked for leave, if he was gone on a new assignment now. But she also felt a definite reluctance to mention the warrior’s name.

  After all, Hauk was no fool. And he’d seemed so certain there was no hope for them, that what had happened between them should never have been.

  Elli had trouble understanding why he felt that way, why he put himself beneath her and insisted that was where he had to stay. But then, she hadn’t been brought up in Gullandria. As he was always telling her, she thought like an American.

  She knew she had to be at least a little cautious. She needed to come up with some clever way to find out where he was now—and yet not reveal anything that might put him in a bad light with her father.

  She set down her silver fork and picked up her water goblet. “Father, I have to tell you, I’m still a little upset with you.”

  Her father frowned. “But why?”

  She drank and set the glass down on the snowy tablecloth. “For having me kidnapped. Where I come from, kidnapping is a crime.”

  He tried to slough it off. “What does it matter now? In the end, you decided you wanted to come.”

  “Yes, I did. But that doesn’t make what you did acceptable.”

  Osrik’s frown had turned to a scowl. “What’s happening here? All of a sudden, you’re lecturing me.”

  “I’m just trying to make you see that—”

  He set down his own fork. “Elli, let me remind you. No one lectures the king.”

  “We’re alone. No one’s listening. I’d like to think, for now, we’re just a daughter and her father, spending a little quality time together.”

  Her father reached across the table and
patted her hand. “I like the sound of that. Let’s not spoil it with an argument.”

  Elli kept pushing. “It was wrong, what you did. I was terrified at first.”

  He fell into her trap. “Did Hauk mistreat you?”

  Elli ate a string bean, delicately, taking time to chew and swallow before answering. “Of course not. He was very gentle with me. And I know he only did what you ordered him to do.” She had to watch it. Or she’d be smiling like a dreamy fool. Hauk, after all, had done a few things her father would never in a million years have ordered him to do.

  “Well.” Osrik’s voice had turned gruff. “Forgive me then. And let’s put what’s done behind us.”

  Elli assumed an injured expression. “You should never have done that. You should never have—”

  “We discussed this on the telephone four nights ago.” Her father’s voice was soft. And utterly un-yielding. “There’s no need to go into it again.”

  “No need for you, maybe.”

  “Elli,” he said. Just her name and then dead silence. There was no kindness in those dark eyes now. He looked every inch the king. And the king was leaving this subject behind.

  “This lamb is delicious,” Elli said.

  Her father’s expression softened. “Yes. The meat of the karavik lamb is the most tender on earth. And the wool, as you’ve probably heard, is greatly prized. Our sheep, our horses, the fruits we pluck from the sea. These are the Gullandrian’s pride.”

  “And your oil. Don’t forget that.”

  “Our oil is our prosperity.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” She raised her wineglass. Her father raised his. They both drank. As she set her glass down again, Elli suggested, “You know, now you’ve got me thinking of him, it seems to me you ought to give Hauk FitzWyborn something.” She was careful, to use his last name, to speak lightly, to keep the longing from her eyes.

  Her father looked vaguely puzzled. “Give him something?”

  “A reward. For a job well done. It wasn’t exactly a piece of cake getting me here. At first, I was absolutely determined not to come. I’d say, now I think about it, that it was kind of a minefield of an assignment, you know? To get me here no matter what—and to treat me like a princess while he did it.”