“Why don’t you hire someone to help,” Clara says. “You’re the queen.”
“I know what I am, but if you two little princesses would move your arses and help me, we could get it done really fast.”
Clara exhales noisily, and stomps over to me. Together, the three of us manage to steady the tree and finish putting all the decorations away.
Until Maja chases Snarf Snarf into the room.
“Snarf Snarf, no!” Freja calls out.
That pig doesn’t care, and he seems to have a loaf of bread in his mouth.
He heads straight for us, straight for the tree.
We have no choice but to get out of the way.
The tree goes down again, needles flying everywhere.
I put my head in my hands and groan. “Anyone feel like bacon for breakfast?”
* * *
“We finally did it,” I say softly as the car starts to pull out of the driveway and through the palace gates. I close my eyes and attempt to sink into the seat. “We’re finally alone.”
Aksel chuckles, holding my hand. “Almost.”
“Just pretend I’m not here,” Henrik, our driver, says.
I sit up. Henrik winks at me in the rearview mirror. “I mean it,” he adds.
I laugh. I’m not about to have sex with Aksel in the car on the way to the airport. It’s not about that anyway (since he did have his way with me late last night). I’m just so damn overwhelmed by the silence, no one screaming in my ear, no one demanding anything of me, whether it be my kids or Denmark in general.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Clara and Freja as if they were my own, I always have, from the days I started off as a nanny for them. And obviously I would do anything for the twins, even if they’re in the grips of the terrible twos, which has pretty much been happening ever since they turned one.
But this is the first time I’ve gone anywhere without them. Usually when there’s a royal engagement we take the kids with us. The public loves to see them and they like the outings and the ceremonies as well. There’ve been a few times that Aksel has gone off to meet with some monarch on his own and I’ve stayed behind (to be honest, I hate that diplomatic shit), but that’s about it.
Now, well, not only are we alone, but we’re together and we don’t have to do anything royal related or see anyone royal related.
Okay. So that’s not quite true.
The reason we’re going to Norway is to meet up with our dear friends Magnus and Ella, the Crown Prince and Princess. Magnus had the idea a few months ago that, if we gathered all of our friends together, we could have a small, intimate gathering in his cabin, high in the mountains above some fjord somewhere. Celebrate New Year’s together where there are no paparazzi, no photo shoots, no royal duties, no children. Just us adults, plus Prince Viktor and Princess Maggie of Sweden, and Aksel’s sister and her husband, Princess Stella and Prince Orlando of Monaco.
It sounded too good to be true, but apparently once crazy Magnus gets an idea, he holds onto it. He made it work, and now it’s happening.
The first stop for us is the private airstrip outside the city, then a quick flight on our private jet over to Oslo, where we land in a rural area.
A black car is waiting for us on the tarmac, the driver beside it.
“Your Majesties,” the man greets us, bowing. “I’ve been sent by Prince Magnus to drive you to the destination.”
“We’re not going to the palace?” Aksel asks, frowning.
The man takes our bags over to the trunk.
“Prince Magnus fucked up,” the man says, throwing the bags in. “He got the times wrong. So, I have to drive you directly to the destination myself before it gets too dark.”
“And who are you?” Aksel asks, looking as confused as I am over the man’s language, usually not something you hear from drivers or bodyguards, though this guy definitely doesn’t look like the latter.
“The name is Ottar, your highness,” he says. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you to your destination safely. I’ve been behind the wheel of many of Prince Magnus’s getaway vehicles.”
Getaway vehicles? Then again, this is Prince Magnus we’re talking about. Magnus the Mad, the adrenaline junkie. He’s calmed down since he got married to Princess Ella and they had kids, Tor and Bjorn, and has proudly become an advocate for mental health. But man, did he ever have a past.
I look at Aksel and shrug. “Looks like the adventure is just beginning.”
He grins at me, and already my husband looks years younger, as relaxed as I’ve seen him in a long time. “Looks like.”
We get in the back seat of the car and buckle up before Ottar guns the vehicle out of the airfield.
Here we go.
Chapter 2
Magnus
“Princess Planet?” I say, rapping on the bathroom door. “This is Prince Shitbag, requesting your presence in the car. Immediately.”
I hear a disconcerting growl from inside the washroom, then the door flies open. Ella scowls at me, pushing past me into the bedroom. “I hate to rush,” she grumbles, grabbing her overnight bag from the bed.
“I know, I’m sorry,” I tell her. “But we have to go.”
“Ugh I feel like I’m forgetting something,” she says, hands pressed on her temples, looking around the room.
“Don’t forget these!” Jane, her lady-in-waiting, says from the doorway. We turn to see her holding up a clear bag filled with NYE hats, horns, and party favors.
“Yes, thank you,” Ella says, scurrying over to her and snatching it from her hands. “Jane, you’re a lifesaver. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”
Jane eyes me warily. She knows that she was invited, even though I was trying to make this strictly for royals, and royals only. Oh, I’m not a snob by any means, part of me wanted to invite the old timers I sometimes sit with at the bar. But, even
