Page 61 of Gotta Have Mistletoe

“I let him go. He’s going back to Nevada. I won’t see him again.” My chest aches, like someone has shot a cannon from the courtyard through my heart.

“Never.” Anders’ voice is firm. “He lives on the other side of the world. You’ll never see him again. Never.”

My hands tremble, and the world is liquid. “I let him go.”

“Talk to him, Father.”

“Right. Right.” I press a button on my watch, then Olav glides in.

“Your Majesty?”

“I need to go to the airport.” I try to look my most authoritative.

Olav’s eyebrows leap up, then he’s all cool composure. “Impossible, Your Majesty. The paparazzi are at the gates. You must not worsen the scandal.”

I grasp hold of the back of a chair. The rungs crease my skin. “Glen is important to me.”

He blinks. “But you said—” He swallows hard. “After the kiss, you told me it was pretend.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh.” His eyes round. “In that case, the e-mail...”

“Was uncalled for.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t know.”

“Just get me a flight to Nevada.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

My grip on the chair loosens.

Olav scrolls through his phone. “You have time in seven weeks.”

Seven weeks? That’s ages from now.

“That’s too late!” Anders exclaims.

I bite my lower lip. “Please arrange the trip to Nevada in seven weeks, Olav.”

“But—he’ll be sad in between! He’ll think you don’t care! He’ll hate you if you show up so late!” Anders throws his arms around, and his voice has a pleading edge I despise.

“Please leave us alone, Olav.”

Olav scurries from the room.

“You love him.” Anders glowers at me with the force of the medieval kings who founded Solberg and refused to give it to Norway or Sweden or Denmark for centuries.

“I do,” I say, and something in my chest loosens.

I love him.

The words should be painful. I’m not supposed to love anyone except Sissel or Anders or my people or my country...

But I love him.

I do.