Page 51 of His Highness's Hidden Heir

When Freyr tilted his head at Magnus and said, “Sauna?” Magnus hesitated, not wanting to leave Lexi alone, but sitting in the sauna was something they had done throughout his childhood, boys and girls taking turns in the hut built for that purpose. He was here to take Rolf if Lexi and the women wanted to steam together later.

It was a setup, of course. He was no sooner seated on the top bench, sweating onto his towel, when Freyr invented a need to stoke the fire and took their brother-in-law with him, leaving Magnus with Sveyn.

Biting back a curse, Magnus demanded, “What is it?”

There was a weighty, indrawn breath, then, “I want to ask your mother to marry me.”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“But I want your blessing.”

Magnus stared balefully at his father through the billows of steam. Sveyn had aged. That was the thought that recurred each time he’d seen him lately. He worked in insurance, but his hobbies had always been outdoor pastimes. He was still fit and lean, but now his shoulders were bony, his face deeply lined, his red beard heavily salted with white.

“I want your forgiveness,” Sveyn admitted with emotion in his voice. “That is what I really want to ask you. It took me a long time, Magnus. Too long to realize this wasn’t about me or what I thought our life should have been. Nothing was stolen from me that I didn’t let go of through spite. I wish I could go back and fight for more time with you, but I can’t. I’m sorry for that. Truly.”

Magnus believed him and, really, what was the point in holding a grudge now?

“I was an adult. I made the decision to come here. I’m glad you’re no longer punishing Mom for my actions.”

“You didn’t make a decision,” Sveyn said with ire. “You made a sacrifice. So did she. It took me far too long to understand that. To accept that it was her right to decide—I couldn’t fathom how she could carry any man’s baby but mine, especially—” He gave an agitated rub of his beard. “Especially when she knew it didn’t matter how much she loved you, she might have to give you up. It felt as though she made all of those decisions without me. Even though they affected me. I wanted to keep everything as it was. I wanted to keep myson. For myself. But I know now that was selfish of me. Incredibly selfish.”

A skewer invaded Magnus’s chest, making his breath burn. He told himself it was the scald of the hot, humid air, but it was the score of that word:selfish.

She knew it didn’t matter how much she loved you, she might have to give you up.

“Can you forgive me?” His father’s voice came from far away.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Of course.” Becausehewas not a selfish man. Was he?

“Thank you, son.” His father’s hand came out and Magnus leaned forward to shake it, thinking this should have felt more healing, but those words—sacrificeandselfish—glinted like two sides of a coin tumbling through the clouds of steam.

For Christmas, Dalla had given Lexi tickets to a play in London starring her former Paisley Pockets costar, Josh, who had played her onscreen brother. Dalla had checked with Magnus beforehand and he had suggested booking the New Year’s Eve performance, so they could watch the fireworks afterward.

“I haven’t seen you in such a good mood in weeks,” Magnus said as Lexi pulled on black palazzo pants shot with gold threads that glinted as she moved.

“I haven’t seen Josh in years. We used to text, but...life.” She shrugged on the matching jacket over a gold push-up bra. “Thank you for bringing me.” She looped her arms around his back.

“It was Dalla’s idea.”

“I know, but you agreed, even though the paps will be a nightmare about it.” Those awful nudes of hers that Carmichael had peddled had been churned up along with comments that she was “poisoning” the royal line and turning Prince Magnus into his father. No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to burn away that old reputation and rise above it, which left her feeling guilty and ashamed for exposing her husband and child to the same ridicule.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t care what the press says about you?” He set her back and slid his gaze down her front. “Anyone with eyes will say you look stunning.”

“Thank you.” She appreciated the compliment, but he didn’t kiss her or try to distract her. He’d been growing more and more withdrawn lately and it was starting to distress her.

“We should go. The play will start whether we arrive on time or not. I’m guessing you don’t want to miss any of it.”

She didn’t, but she also didn’t like this feeling that he mightsayhe didn’t care about her reputation, but she couldn’t fully believe him because her reputation had been an issue from the very beginning. A lifetime in an industry of broken promises and last-minute rejections had trained her to be skeptical and to expect to be cut adrift at any moment.

She wanted to believe her husband when he told her it didn’t matter. In many ways, she was living her best life with him. She loved Magnus, loved their son. She wanted to tell Magnus that and celebrate this wonderful life they were making together, but each time he pulled away that little bit, she lost her nerve, feeling insecure and uncertain.

She trusted him with her life, but she didn’t have enough trust in his feelings toward her to risk her own.

Her brooding thoughts were set aside for ninety minutes while they watched the play, a mystery that was suspenseful enough to silence the audience for long minutes at a time. When it concluded, Lexi was the first to leap to her feet, clapping wildly for Josh and the rest of the talented cast.

She had sent a note backstage when they arrived, telling Josh to break a leg, as if their presence in the audience wouldn’t have been noted otherwise. They had been a distraction on and off throughout, but they were escorted backstage where they were greeted with great excitement.

After a small gauntlet of handshaking, they entered Josh’s dressing room and Lexi flew into the arms of her old friend.

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