Page 30 of Gotta Have Mistletoe
The thick wooden doors open once we reach them.
“Thank you kindly,” I tell the uniformed servant who opened them.
He blinks.
A stern woman with gray hair marches toward us. “Your Majesty!”
“That’s the housekeeper,” King Erik tells me, his voice low. “Gunnhild Bjoernsen. She can be direct.”
“Should I be frightened?”
“Her last name means bear. Her first means warrior.”
“I am angry,” Gunnhild says in a thick accent.
King Erik tightens his grip on my hand, and I do one of those inhalation things.
“You should have told me you have boyfriend!” Gunnhild shouts. “Welcome to Solberg Castle!”
“Thank you,” I say, relieved. “It’s marvelous.”
“I am overjoyed to meet the man who has stolen the king’s heart. He’s been so stoic. So brave.” She lowers her voice. “And so unhappy. Melancholic. I’m glad he has someone.”
The king’s face is redder than it was before, and he doesn’t meet my eyes. Reckon that’s a sort of embarrassing thing to say about someone. It’s absolutely the sort of thing Casey would go about saying about me.
“Any unhappiness you observed was because of the distance,” King Erik says, his voice too high-pitched.
I want to wrap him in a hug, but we’re gonna need to sell our eventual breakup. The point of having me here for a week is forme to announce that I miss home too much to stay, so everyone thinks the king’s heart is broken, and not that I’m some man he met at an airport.
“How romantic!” Gunnhild exclaims.
“Glen will be visiting for the Christmas festivities to see if he wants to move here permanently,” King Erik says hastily.
A worried look is on his face. I understand immediately. He doesn’t want Gunnhild, who seems to be some combination of housekeeper and childhood nanny, to become attached to me.
“You will love it,” Gunnhild assures me. “You’ll never want to leave!”
King Erik’s expression grows more worried. I want to squeeze his hand, but I have a feeling that will only further convince Gunnhild of a romantic connection between me and the king.
“Well,” I say finally. “I have exceedingly high expectations.”
King Erik smiles.
“I will show you to your wing,” Gunnhild says.
I put my hands on my waist. “Wing? I expected another castle!”
Gunnhild’s eyes widen, and from the hasty way that King Erik places his hand over his mouth, he’s stifling a giggle.
CHAPTER TWELVE
King Erik
Olav has been with Glen all afternoon, instructing him in heaven knows what. When Glen and Max appear for dinner, they both look slightly more ill at ease than normal. Max is wearing a suit that used to belong to Anders, and he keeps running his little fingers over his tie knot.
Cutlery clinks and scrapes, filling the dining room. Normally, I’m attempting awkward conversation with Anders while footmen look on. Now, I’m attempting awkward conversation with Anders, Glen, and Max while the footmen look on.
Perhaps the problem is me.
