Page 34 of The Champion
Freya moved to sit next to me and took my hand. “Victor, I know it’s hard for you to talk about these things, but don’t you ever think about how cute our kids would be?”
I swallowed hard. “Why would I? It’s an impossible dream. I could never fit in up North, and you would be miserable here. There’s no point of dreaming of what can never be.”
Freya’s hands fell to her lap.
“We have these five weeks together and I want to make every minute count. Let’s not think about what happens after.”
We sat for a long moment in silence, digesting the raw truth. At least she could never blame me for promising her more than I could deliver. We French weren’t religious, but silently I prayed to higher powers of the Universe that Freya would choose to stay in my apartment. If she got up and left, I would have to respect her decision.
After a while, I touched her knee and smiled a little while my heart screamed words in my head that I could never say out loud. Instead of telling her how desperate I was for her closeness, I went with a simple “Please stay.”
Freya’s tiny smile and the fact that she remained seated made me want to howl in victory. Suddenly, it was like we were starting from scratch with no expectations of this being anything other than five amazing weeks in our lives. I would forget about the French three-time rule and she would forget about her plans of marriage. These five weeks would be ours.
Feeling elated, I changed the subject to something different. “You look pretty, by the way. That shirt suits you well.”
With the way Freya began to ramble, I could tell she was nervous about the whole thing. “Thank you. I never cared much about clothes, as my mother was adamant that we shouldn’t rely on external validation to feel good about ourselves. She often reminded me that true confidence doesn’t come in a fancy outfit but shines from within. Of course, it was easy for my mother to say because with her natural grace and kindness, Pearl has always been the epitome of confidence.”
“And you haven’t?”
“Maybe now, but all through my childhood and youth, people praised me for my intelligence and beauty as if that defined who I was. Their compliments often made me sad when their praise was followed by words like ‘She’ll be a great support for Thor one day.’”
“That’s understandable,” I said.
“The worst thing I know is when people speak on my behalf. Even as a child, my vocabulary was rich, and I always had plenty to say. It’s hard when you’re surrounded by powerful men who assume that they know what’s best for you.”
“I’ve heard you tell them to shut up before.”
“It’s rare. Without my mother as a role model, I would have screamed daily at them to shut up and let me speak for myself. She taught me the art of influence and how to take pleasure in the results more than the recognition.”
“What do you mean?”
“Many of the initiatives that makes my father a beloved ruler of the Northlands came from my mother or me. Over the years, I’ve stood in the back and heard him give speeches that emphasized his clear vision for one of my projects. If I was lucky, he would say I helped inspire him, when in reality all he did was approve of the project.”
“That sounds unfair.”
Freya shrugged. “I’ve learned to value my influence, but of course, the one project that my father and I can’t agree on is my marriage.”
“He’s been pressuring you to marry, hasn’t he?”
“If my dad could have it his way, I would have been married at least seven or eight years ago to a pure-blooded Nman.”
It was my turn to look away. The idea of Freya married was painful because I knew it would be the end of our friendship. Nmen were territorial and possessive. There was no way her husband would allow her and me to sleep together.
“Men are drawn to me because of all the power and money that comes with the association to my family. Many have courted me, but so far none of them has passed my test.”
“What test?” I turned on the couch, pulled one leg under the other, and rested my arm on the back.
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Ha, you’re a Northlander, so that part is inherited.”
Freya’s lip tugged upward. “Very funny.”
“Tell me about your test.”
“There’s this famous restaurant located on a rooftop terrace. The owner’s daughter, Zoe, is one of my closest friends from school. She has been my partner in testing suitors for the last nine years. It’s quite simple. Whenever a suitor interests me, I agree to a date as long as I get to pick the restaurant. From the moment we arrive, I’ll be obnoxious and rude to Zoe, who makes sure to work as our server. She pretends to get hurt when in reality she has given me some great pointers on how to be unkind to her. What I want is for my suitor to stand up for her and tell me to stop being rude. They never do. I can tell that many find it uncomfortable, but not a single one of them has called me out on my lousy attitude. A few times they joined in on the harsh tone.”
“That’s your test? To see if they have the balls to stand up to you?”
