The Wicked Prince

by Wood, Vivian

  She steps in front of me, pressing me down with two gentle hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay. Sit down, Stellan.”

  I bury my face in my hands, feeling like a fool. “God damn it.”

  “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get your phone, okay?”

  She disappears and then reappears, holding my phone up. “Here. When you’re ready, you can text somebody to get in touch with your father.”

  “Thanks.” I exhale, pushing myself backward into the pillows. “Fuck!”

  Margot doesn’t say anything. She just sits down beside me and runs her hand over my knee, looking distraught.

  After a minute, I look at her.

  “My grandmother was right about one thing.”

  She arches a brow. “Which thing? She said several.”

  I pin her in place with my gaze. “My life is about to become very complicated, Margot.”

  “I know,” she says softly.

  I stare into her dark blue eyes. “Are you still willing to run the gamut with me?”

  “Of course,” she says. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “But what do you want? That’s what I am really asking here.”

  She nods a little, taking a deep breath. “We should keep seeing each other, obviously. And I don’t have any real objection toward you making things between us more…” She pauses and takes another gulp of air. “More official. I just want to be in the background.”

  I sigh. “I don’t think that the press will let you just hang out in the background, Margot.”

  She nods again, looking down. “I know. But you asked what I wanted, not what’s realistic.”

  She looks so sad that I can’t help but pull her closer, pressing her small body against my larger one. My head rests on hers. My heart beat drums against my chest.

  I close my eyes, inhaling. The sweet scent of Margot fills my nose.

  “I want that too,” I admit.

  My heart aches. For my father, who I have yet to see. For my grandmother, who is just trying her best, though it may not seem that way.

  For Margot, who is coping with the change in my status way better than I am.

  And for this, this closeness. I have a very real sense that these moments are under threat now… though I swear I will do what I can to protect them.

  My phone chirps. I open my eyes, sighing before I even read the words on the screen. They’re from Lars.

  He wants to see all of us right away.

  I shoot off a reply before flinging my phone down.

  Be there soon.

  Then I look at Margot. She looks so anxious; I almost can’t stand to look into her sweetly heart shaped face.

  “I really fucking love you,” I tell her.

  She grabs my hand, pulling it over her heart. “I love you too. I always will.”

  Giving her a kiss, I reluctantly let her go and rise from the couch. “I’m going to go see my father.”

  She gives me a small smile. “I’ll be here, waiting for you when you get back.”

  With a heavy heart, I turn and start moving away. When I step into the hallway, three suited guards turn to look at me.

  “Prime Ministerr,” I say, nodding to them. “Lad os gå.”

  I head down the hall, feeling my invisible golden collar tighten just that much more.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Margot

  I stand in the darkness, silhouetted by the enormous palace windows, just staring out into the moonlit night. I’m wearing a beautiful light gray ballgown but my shoes are abandoned by the door of the living room. I press my hands to my face, feeling the heat that rushed to my cheeks a few minutes ago.

  I snuck away from the rest of the dinner party and ran up here as soon as I could. That’s only after I made a complete fool of myself by talking over Stellan, though.

  It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to me. It’s just a normal part of the conversational flow, at least in America. But apparently it was enough to stop every other conversation and draw all eyes my way.

  My cheeks still burn just thinking about it.

  “Haj.”

  I turn a little, seeing Stellan standing there, filling up the doorframe. His face is mostly in shadow but I would recognize his tall frame anywhere. My mouth turns up at the corners.

  “Think his name and he shall appear.”

  Stellan moves forward, his face emerging from the shadows. “I noticed that you were gone and I came to check on you.”

  I walk across the room to the couches, falling onto one of them. Keeping my tone light, I look at him as he walks over. “You found me. Hiding upstairs from my own shame.”

  His lips twitch. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  I roll my eyes. “Everyone at the dinner thought I was raised in a barn.”

  He gives me a funny look as he sits across from me. “What?”

  “They thought I was lacking in manners.”

  “Ah! I wouldn’t worry about what they think, honestly.” He sits back, steeling his fingers.

  “Well, I am worried. I’m worried from the second I wake up until the second I’m asleep. I don’t want to embarrass myself… but more importantly, I don’t want to embarrass you.”

  Stellan shrugs a shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  I squint off toward the window. “I wasn’t cut out for this… this caring about what everyone thinks. I just want to be able to wear my ratty old t-shirts and listen to my loud punk music and walk around taking photos. I don’t want everyone else’s opinions about how I walk funny and who I should be associating with.”

  I stick out my tongue to make a disgusted face. My expectation is that he will laugh, or make some funny remark. But to my surprise he leans forward, his face looking serious as the original sin.

  “Margot. If you don’t want this lifestyle, please tell me right now. There is still time to turn the car around.”

  My eyes widen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complain…”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’m serious. Can you be a royal? Can you deal with the invasion of privacy and the world judging your every move?” He stops, then exhales a long breath. “I know it isn’t very romantic to have this conversation. But I really need you to think about your answer. You’d have to give up any kind of job. You’d have to put down roots here. I will move heaven and earth to make you my wife… but you have to meet me halfway.”

  For a second, I can only blink. For Stellan to say these things to me, so bluntly and without pretense or the disguise of humor… it’s unusual, to say the least.

  “Stellan— “

  He holds up a hand. “I want you to consider what I am saying, Margot. There is an escape option for you… but that window is growing smaller by the day. Do you understand?”

  I flush, sitting up and looking at my hands in my lap. “I do.”

  He put my conundrum into words, which is more than I have been willing or able to do. As I sit there, his words swirl against me and wash over me again and again.

  Can I be the queen that Stellan needs? Am I dignified enough? Humble enough? Resilient enough?

  Simply put, do I have what it takes?

  Half a minute of silence lapses before I realize that he’s waiting for an answer. I glance up at his darkly handsome face, biting my lower lip.

  “I don’t know,” I confess. “I’m sorry. I wish I did.”

  Stellan sits back on the couch, looking upset. “I thought that you wanted this.”

  “I love you. That part has never been in doubt. But… you’re asking me to make a major decision that will affect the rest of my life. And it’s just… it’s hard.” Screwing up my face, I sigh. “If you were anyone else, I would just say yes right now. But… your honor, your sense of duty… they are a part of you. And I’m trying to figure out whether I can put honor and duty first like you do.”

  He frowns. “You make me sound selfless. I’m anything but that. If I really only cared about duty, I would’
ve just picked a wealthy Danish girl to marry and sired an heir by now.”

  I wrinkle my nose. In my head, I can just picture Stellan and some willowy blonde standing in a royal portrait, holding a baby. The question is, can I put myself in the place of the blonde?

  “I know,” I say with a shrug. “I’m trying my best to figure out whether I can commit to the royal lifestyle. You already know that I’d commit to you in a heartbeat.”

  His smile is a little heartbreaking. “I know, skatter. We are just running out of time. A decision has to be made.”

  I suck in a breath and nod. “I know.”

  Stellan stands up, holding out his hand to me. “Come.”

  Getting to my feet, I slip my hand into his, relishing how warm his skin is. “Back to the dinner?”

  His mouth curves up. “No. It’s been two days since I’ve even seen you naked. I’m starving for your body, skatter.”

  My heart beat drums a staccato rhythm against my ribs. Pressing myself closer to Stellan, I pull his head down, kissing his mouth. He growls and sweeps me off my feet, carrying me to his bedroom.

  He strips me naked and tosses me on the bed, then undresses himself. When he comes after me, his touch tender and brutal, I can’t get enough.

  He takes me from behind, pulling my hair and caging my body in with his. He fucks me, slowly at first, his thrusts growing more and more rough. He soon has me calling out his name, panting breathlessly, as he drives me closer and closer to the brink. And I’ve never felt so free as I do in the midst of our sweaty, mind-blowing sex.

  Trapped under him, pinned like this, is exactly where I want to be. It’s all the rest that has me questioning whether I can commit to being his.

  Later, when we are done, our sweat cooling as we suck in hasty breaths, I cling to Stellan.

  “I love you so much,” I whisper against his chest. “I always will.”

  He just pulls me closer, still struggling to pull air into his lungs. The way he holds me, like I’m some fragile thing that is too precious to break… it almost makes me cry.

  As I drift off to sleep, the last thing on my mind is a question.

  Am I really going to let this wonderful man slip away just because I can’t stand being scrutinized by strangers?

  I really, really hope not.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Stellan

  A couple of days later, it is clear that word of my relationship with Margot has gotten to the press. Normally I am not bothered by a few reporters that might turn up here and there. But they’ve been growing in number over the last few days, showing up at every event I have, elbowing each other in order to get to within earshot of me.

  “Prince Stellan! Is Margot your lover?”

  “Stellan! Stellan! Will you marry her?”

  “Will the wedding be soon?”

  I ignore them as I get out of the back of the limo and hurry into the palace. Looking back at the swarm of reporters and paparazzi, I’m nearly blinded by a flashbulb going off to the right of the palace doorway.

  Shaking my head to clear my vision, I turn and trot inside the darkened palace. Running up the grand staircase, I make my way down the echoing hallway to my living room.

  When I open the door to find Margot wiping away a tear and trying to hide that she’s been crying, I feel my heart twist in my chest. She sniffles and sits up straighter in the hard backed chair by the table, running her hand over her black cotton dress.

  “Haj,” she greets me.

  My heart twists again. She’s trying to learn Danish for me.

  “Haj,” I say, walking over and giving her a hug. “I am guessing that you saw the reporters?”

  Margot wipes at her face bashfully. “Yeah. I was going to go out to meet the personal shopper you suggested for me… but I couldn’t even manage to leave the palace.”

  She sucks in a deep breath. “It’s especially hard because I don’t even have any answers for them.”

  I pull away, shaking my head. “That isn’t anything I can help with, Margot.”

  Pulling out the chair opposite her, I sit down and glance out the window. She wrinkles her nose delicately.

  “I know,” she says. “I was just… telling you how I feel.”

  I drum my fingertips on the table. When I speak, my words come out sharper than I intended. “The prime minister came to see me today. He asked about you. How do you think I felt, telling him I don’t have any more answers about our current predicament than you?”

  I can actually hear her inhale. She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m sorry that you are feeling the pressure. It must be terrible to feel like you don’t have much control of things.”

  I shoot her a glare. “It’s not that hard to make up your mind, Margot. You either want me, and can accept all that comes along with me… or you can’t.”

  She ducks her head, her jaw tensing. “You make it sound so easy.”

  I grind my teeth. “It might not be easy for you. For me, there was never a choice. I didn’t get that kind of freedom.”

  She shoots to her feet, pacing over to the window. “Yes. I know that you had a hard childhood, Stellan. Just like you know that mine wasn’t any easier.” She hisses out a breath. “I feel like we could go around and around in circles over this for a thousand more years.”

  I try to take a calming breath. “We’re out of time, Margot. I think you know that.”

  She leans against the window, scrunching up her face. “I just need more time.”

  “Time for what?” I ask, raising my hands. “What will a few more days get you that you don’t already have?”

  “I don’t know,” she says mournfully, her gaze still fixed on something out the window. “Clarity?”

  I try a different tack. “When I came in here, you were crying.”

  Margot glances at me, uncertain. “So?”

  “So… you had one run in with the press. And you… you cracked under the pressure! Not even very much pressure, I might add.” I pin her with my gaze. “If that’s the way you handle a tense moment, I worry about you being able to handle the everyday scrutinies that accompany royal life. Like… if you can’t cope with this, how are you going to handle it when the paparazzi find out that we’re engaged? How are you going to deal with being pregnant?”

  Margot’s eyes go wide. Her retort is immediate and biting. “I don’t know, Stellan! This is all new to me! I can’t fathom how I’ll deal with anything, let alone being pregnant with your child!”

  There has been a tenuous thread between her and me. But her outraged tone, her angry gestures… they cause me to pull on that thread until it snaps.

  I get to my feet, my voice gone to gravel. “Maybe we should both do ourselves a favor and stop trying. Maybe we are just not suited.”

  She stares at me for a second, her mouth opening. “What are you saying, Stellan? Are you saying that this…” She gestures to the air between us both. “Isn’t worth it?”

  “Maybe I am,” I say, my gut twisting.

  A fresh sheen of tears in her eyes tells me that I’ve hit her in a soft spot. “I’ve been daydreaming. I’ve been living a lie. Pretending… pretending that if I tried hard enough, I could make people forget that I’m a foreigner. Make them forget that I come from nothing.” She looks deathly serious, her little hands forming fists. When she speaks again, her voice is watery and rough. “I thought that I could make you forget. But that’s not quite possible, is it?”

  I spread my hands wide. “Maybe not, Margot. Maybe we are just… two people that should have been together. Maybe in another life, if we were a little more similar…”

  A tear breaks loose and runs down her face. She swipes at it angrily. “We are fundamentally different, Stellan. That’s what makes us… us.”

  I close my eyes for a second. “So… what? We’re different. I’m still a royal. I’ll always be a royal.”

  She crosses her arms. “And I’ll always be common, no matter if you marry me or not. You could b
estow a thousand titles on me and I’ll still be…”

  She trails off, unable to finish her thought. She looks down, ducking her head and wiping at her face.

  My fingers itch to touch her. I ball my hands into fists. “All you have to do is leave,” I grate out. “All you have to say is that you can’t do it. If you don’t want me to chase after you, I won’t. I love you, but…”

  Margot looks up at me, her dark blue eyes agonized. Her words leave her in a huff of breath. “But maybe love isn’t enough.”

  Her words ring out, settling between us like shattered glass. I suck in a breath.

  “Margot— “

  “No!” she says, shaking her head fiercely. “No. I won’t ever be the perfect, quiet, submissive little wife you all expect me to be! You want me to quit my job… and be just… completely dependent on you…”

  She breaks down in tears, a silent sob rippling through her whole body.

  I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make this better. My heart is frozen in my chest; my lungs feel brittle when I draw a breath.

  “So go then,” I utter. Margot looks up at me, tears running down her face. “Go!” I yell.

  A final twist of the knife, cutting both of us to the bone. Her face goes white.

  “If I leave—“ she whispers.

  “Fucking go. Be done with it already,” I toss the words out, turning away from her. “This is over.”

  I start to walk away. Behind me, I hear her gasped breath. And then she lets a sob escape her as she turns and runs away, out the door faster than I can draw a breath.

  When I turn back to look, all I see is an empty doorframe.

  “Fuck!” I shout, reaching out blindly to overturn a plain wooden chair. Then I angrily tip the whole table on its side, making a noise that isn’t half of the fury that I feel.

  I storm toward the bedroom, needing to brood in silence.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Stellan