“Danon, we need to talk.”
I knew this conversation was coming, but I’d hoped it would at least wait until we returned to Denmark.
“Not tonight, mother,” I reply, deadpan, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “I’m supposed to be on vacation.”
“This was never a vacation and you know it. You embarrassed your father and I tonight. You looked like a bored, petulant teenager.”
“Because I was bored, mother.”
There’s zero truth to my words. I’m a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit and everyone except my parents know it. Fuck! No, they do know it. They’re purposely being oblivious. And I’m feigning disinterest because I don’t know how to be… Rex. And maybe if I bluff boredom no one will notice how clueless I am at being the next king of Denmark.
My brother was Mr. Diplomatic. Smart, smooth and bright, everyone gravitated towards Rex. Even people who didn’t agree with his politics or opinions, loved him.
In my room, I dig through my suitcase, frustrated. Pulling out a pair of jeans, I toss them on the bed.
“You need to participate, not check your phone every five minutes. These political connections matter. Your brother?—”
“Don’t.” I spin on her, barely controlling my grief and anger. “You don’t need to remind me that I’m not Rex.”
Closing the distance between us, my mother runs her hand down my bearded face as if I’m a self-depreciating four-year-old. But this isn’t a tantrum. I’m not bitter about it. It just is.
“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t mean to throw it in your face.” She presses her lips, a small smile curving them. “Look at this scruffy beard,” she says, her eyes shining with her own grief as she pets my face. “And your hair.” She shakes her head and as fast as she softened, her rigidity comes back. “You need to clean yourself up. You look like a lumberjack, not the crown prince of Denmark.”
I pull back out of her reach, disgruntled. “Expecting me to suddenly care about all this business when I spent my lifetime actively avoiding it, is… frustrating. And I was checking my team’s score.”
She nods, her face solemn, as it should be. Because while Rex was set to take over the crown, I was setting records in the national hockey league. And when he died, my future hockey career died with him.
“They’re not your team anymore, Danon.”
Shifting my jaw, I temper my response, because they were never just my team, they were my family.
“I never thought I’d need to step up and take Rex’s place as the future king. Give me some time to get used to the idea.”
“It’s been two years.”
My eyes flick to my mother’s. “Two years is nothing when it comes to grieving and changing your entire life.”
Her eyes lower a moment before she straightens her shoulders and lifts her chin high just like the stoic queen she is.
“Maybe so, Danon, but this is your life now and you better get on board. Your father can’t do this for much longer. And losing Rex wasn’t just hard on you.” She spins in her expensive pumps and walks to the doorway.
I blink, knowing she’s right and feeling bad, but also just as sour.
Holding the door jamb, she pauses. “Your father’s ready to step down from the throne for good reason.”
“I know.”
“And if Rex was still alive, he’d be king already.”
“I know that too.”
“Then get yourself together, Danon. We’ve got one more charity gala to attend here in the US, and then we’re going home. Consider this your last hurrah, because when we get back to Denmark, you’re picking a wife and a date for the wedding, and we’re planning your inauguration.”
“Fine,” I say, not attempting to keep the contempt from my voice. My mother gives me one last glance over her shoulder before finally leaving me alone.
Not for the first time, I wish it was me instead of Rex on that ski hill in the Swiss Alps during the avalanche.
At least she didn’t bring up Rex’s fiancée, I think, as I toss my tux on the bed and pull on my jeans. The thought of marrying Ada in Rex’s place makes me want a drink, a strong one, laced with arsenic. Then again, none of the other options are much better.