“I was asking him if he thought you were marrying me for love or for something else. If you were just pretending.”

She stares at me. “Oh. What did he say?”

“He said you’re the type of woman who could never fake it. You were honest and true, through and through.”

Her eyes tilt downward. “I see.”

“And I know it’s not true,” I admit. “But damn, for that moment, it was really nice to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” Her voice has dropped even lower now.

“That we were doing all of this because we wanted to.”

I feel the slight nod of her head against my shoulder.

And then there’s silence.

My words seem to fall down around us like rain outside the car, while the two of us are shuttled back to the estate, back into hiding.

Twelve

Magnus

A phone call wakes me.

What’s the point in even setting an alarm clock if there’s someone else out there in the world who is hell-bent on waking you up?

My first rule as king will be to make sure no phone calls can be placed to anyone before nine a.m., and if it’s an emergency, then the receiver must have enough warning to ingest obscene amounts of coffee before the call.

I groan, my head feeling like it’s been sawed open and a whole bag of concrete has been poured in there. I blindly grope for my phone and glance at it, expecting it to be my mother or father. There hasn’t been a day here that one of them hasn’t checked in on the status of Ella and me.

Honestly, I haven’t known what to tell them other than that we’re getting to know each other. Which isn’t a lie. It’s just a lot slower than I thought it would be.

That said, I’m surprised she agreed to come to the bar last night. Maybe all we needed to really get closer was some time out of the confines of this estate.

That, and a lot of booze.

Of course I won’t be mentioning her incognito excursion to my parents.

It doesn’t matter anyway since the phone’s screen tells me it’s Viktor calling from Sweden.

I breathe a sigh of relief that smells like stale beer and answer it.

“You, of all people, aren’t supposed to call me before nine a.m.”

“Magnus, it’s almost noon.”

I sit up in surprise. That was a mistake. The room spins. “What?” I ask, holding the side of my head while I peer at my phone. “How did that happen?”

“You tell me,” he says. “Anyway, I saw you called the other day, and I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier.”

“You’re busy, so you’re excused,” I tell him, lying back down gently. I can’t believe no one has woke me up yet. Usually Ottar is banging on my door, though perhaps Ella is sleeping in as well. “How is the wedding planning?” I ask.

He has yet to know anything about Ella and me, or that Ella even exists. He doesn’t even know about the whole marriage thing on my end.

“Stressful,” he says with a sigh. “And we’re not getting married until April. I’m left out of the planning for the most part, but I think my mother has really gone crazy with it and taken Maggie along for the ride. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. They’ve gone to Paris for a few days to do some shopping. My mother, Maggie, and her sisters. Girls trip, or whatever. I was seeing if you wanted to do the same.”

“I don’t know, Viktor. Paris bores me.”

“Not to Paris, idiot,” he says. “Let’s go hike up to one of those royal cabins of yours in the mountains and make a campfire and get shitfaced drunk.”

“You want to come to Norway?”

“Do you see any damn mountains in Sweden?”

I clear my throat, trying to think fast. I haven’t seen Viktor since July, and it’s long overdue for us to cause some mayhem.

But Ella is here.

I have no choice but to tell him.

“I think it’s a great idea,” I say. “When?”

“I’m about to get Freddie to buy me a ticket. Today. You’re still at the apartment, right?”

“No,” I tell him. “See, here’s the thing. I’m totally down for all of this but it won’t be quite the guys’ trip that you think it’ll be.”

Silence. Then, “You want to bring your flavor of the month with us?”

“She’s not the flavor of the month,” I tell him, feeling defensive. “But she’s here with me. We’re at Skaugum Estate, outside of Oslo. And well, she has to come because I’m not about to leave her alone here. See, she’s under house arrest. And we might be getting married. I’m not sure yet.”

More silence. “What?”

I take in a deep breath and explain it all to Viktor the best I can.

When I’m done, he doesn’t believe me.

I explain again.

Then he laughs.

And laughs, and laughs.

“You’re being a real shitbag,” I tell him. “You’re supposed to be supporting me.”

“Right, like you’ve ever supported me,” he says, sighing. “My god, I’m actually crying. Oh Magnus, so happy for you to join the club.”

“Whatever. So you want to do this or not?”

“Well, how are you going to get Cinderella out of there?”

“It’s Ella. And I’ll figure it out. Just get your ass over here ASAP, and we’ll figure out our next move.”

We hang up, and I manage to finally get out of bed. After I freshen up and slip on dark jeans and a white t-shirt that’s probably too small for me, I head out into the hall.

Straight to Ella’s room.

Just as Jane is coming out of it.

“Morning, sunshine,” she says to me brightly.

“She in there?” I ask, running a hand through my hair to make sure I don’t look completely crazy.

“Barely,” she says. “I don’t know what you did to her last night.”

“Me?” I say innocently. “She’s the one who drank. And talked. And I swear the world will never be the same.”

Jane purses her lips. “Mmmm. Anyway, she’s not used to that, so next time please take it easy on her.”

I raise my hands in protest. “I will do nothing of the sort. Can I go in?”

She shrugs. “It’s your house, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Lady Jane.”

I open the door and step inside.

Ella has flung herself dramatically across the bed, lying on her back with her arm over her eyes. She’s also wearing next to nothing, just a long t-shirt that has a picture of a whale on it, and I see a peek of yellow booty shorts.

Good god.

I take a moment and just stand there, admiring her long, smooth legs, wishing I could take hold of the hem of her shirt and pull it up over her, exposing her stomach and her breasts.

Don’t get carried away.

I shut the door behind me. “Ella?”

She jolts and turns her head to look at me in surprise.

But she doesn’t move otherwise or attempt to cover herself up, which is what I expected. In fact, she had to have known I was just standing there and ogling the hell out of her and she didn’t do a thing about it.

Interesting.

I push that out of my head for now.

“Feeling okay?” I ask.

“You tried to murder me last night,” she mutters, closing her eyes with a wince. “Murder me with alcohol so you can collect my inheritance.”

“How much are you worth, by the way?” I ask as I saunter over to the bed, secretly thrilled that she’s still lying there in her underwear.

“Me? I have no idea. Probably nothing,” she says, blinking up at me as I stand over her. “Ugh.” She covers her face with her hands.

“My handsomeness blinding you?”

“No,” she mumbles through her fingers. “But the light behind you is.”

“I notice that you didn’t deny my handsomeness.”

She sighs, and her hands drop away. She rolls on her side and gives me a weary look. “What do you want, Magnus?” It’s then that she grabs the end of her t-shirt and covers her butt with it. I almost say something in protest.

“Considering I only got up twenty minutes ago, I wanted to see if you were alive.”

“This is why I don’t drink much,” she says. “Jane says I turn into Princess Lush and then Princess Lush turns into Princess Fuck Me I’m Hungover.”

“I do like the sound of Princess Fuck Me. Perhaps she can pay us a visit.”

She gives me a caustic look. “Don’t even start with me today.”

“Baby, I’ll start with you all day, every day.” I grin and reach out for her hand, holding it in mine. “Remember when you let me do this last night? You were such a hussy.”

She bursts out laughing and takes her hand back. “Hussy! Now that’s a word I didn’t think I’d hear you say.”

“The Norwegian equivalents are rather crude.”

“Let me guess, you’re going to teach them to me?”

“Later. And maybe some Swedish, too.”

She frowns. “Swedish?”

“Listen, I have a proposition for you.”

“This better not be a marriage proposal.”

“Very funny. No. But hey, thanks for letting me know where you stand at this point. You know our two weeks is almost up.”

“I’m just joking,” she says quietly, her gaze dropping to the sheets.

“Anyway,” I smooth on over because I’m not about to get bogged down in anything serious. “I just got a call from my friend Viktor. He’s the Prince of Sweden. Don’t hold that against him. He called wanting to get away for a bit, I guess his fiancée and his mother are going to Paris on a girls’ trip.”

“Queens go on girls’ trips?”

“Why not? Anyway, he’s coming over and we’re going to one of the family cabins north of here for a couple of nights. Just to get sloppy drunk, shoot guns into the air, jump in freezing lakes, fish, fall over into campfires, eat junk, that sort of thing.”