Page 44 of Gotta Have Mistletoe
Glen stiffens beside me. Is he going to think I concocted this whole thing, just to kiss him? He can’t. He mustn’t.
“We’re not...” I sigh. “We knew the paparazzi were there. It was for them. He’ll return to Nevada in a few days. Please do not expect anything.”
“Oh.” Olav’s shoulders droop momentarily, before he valiantly raises them. “Forgive me. I assumed, Your Majesty...” He smiles. “Well, you looked very devoted. If people ever vote the royal family out, you can go into acting.”
“Olav, see that Glen has clothes suitable for the Christmas Ball.”
“Of course. I’m already on that.” Olav glances at Glen. “And absolutely no orange ties.”
Glen gives me a nervous glance. His cheeks are redder than they were before, and I hate it.
“I think orange is charming.”
“You would say that,” Olav says.
I blink. “I hardly make it a habit to comment on apparel.”
“My case rests.”
Glen gives us a wobbly smile. “I’m going to get some studying done. Thanks for the trip to the Christmas Market, Your Majesty.”
I nod, deciding not to revisit the argument about Glen’s studying in front of Olav.
I collect a tray of Christmas cookies and eggnog from the kitchen, then go to the drawing room to surprise Glen.
He’s not there.
In fact, a footman tells me he hasn’t been there at all.
Is he avoiding me?
I hand the tray to the surprised footman and tell him to share it with the other staff, then retire to my room.
I see Glen at dinner, but he is quiet and withdrawn. Max chatters through the dinner, and even Anders is surprisingly talkative. Apparently, they went ice skating after Glen and I left.
Glen doesn’t meet my eyes very often.
Is this because of the kiss? Does Glen resent me for it? That I stole the first kiss he’s had since his husband died? Did I do it wrong? Was the experience unpleasant for him? So unpleasant that he’s been avoiding me the rest of the day?
Shame curdles my stomach.
I retire to my bedroom to read, but the words blur together.
I find myself walking through my corridor, then walking to the greenhouse. The last time I was here was with Glen. Did he think the experience was silly? Sven certainly was baffled why we were there late at night.
Could he tell I have a crush on him?
I enter the greenhouse and inhale the greenery. Normally, the space calms me, but now the place feels haunted, like I can feel Glen’s presence.
The stars and moon are mostly hidden, and snowflakes fall over the greenhouse roof.
“Your Majesty?” Glen’s voice asks.
My chest squeezes. I hate it. “Stop it. I’m imagining you.”
For a moment, there’s only silence, then I hear a faint chuckle.
A shuffle sounds, then another. “You’re not imagining me.”
