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“I’m well, Mamma,” I replied. “You?”
Father said, “I was told you stayed out of trouble while in Belgium.”
“Yes.” I lied.
Of course, I had gotten up to something. I had only gotten away with it.
“Good. For once, you followed orders.”
“You’re welcome. Now, can we cut the shit, Dad? Why did you call me here?”
“Rikard, please!”
My father set his jaw. “I would like you to go to Neandia on Thursday. You can have dinner with the royals there, attend a trade summit, and be a good boy. If you can do that, I will allow you to spend some time on the yacht this summer. I need to believe you won’t cause the family too much disgrace.”
“Really?” My ears perked. “Well, that’s great! I mean, there are things I’d rather do but… if that’s all I must?—”
“There will be more, of course. But I would like you to go.”
“What is the catch then?” I groaned.
“You will meet with Queen Alexandra and get to know her.”
“I saw her this weekend—we barely spoke. She’s awful.”
“She is a nice girl,” Mamma said. “Her mother was a dear friend, and her grandmother remains your godmother?—”
“I know that. She seems prickly. We did not hit it off. She implied my French was poor?—”
“And it is compared to a native speaker’s. Which she is.”
“Well, then what is the hope for us?”
“She speaks perfect English. Stop putting up walls, Rick.”
Father bellowed. “It would be good for you to settle down and stay out of trouble. She is a perfectly nice girl, not ugly, and young. She is well-behaved—unimpeachable—and would make a good wife.”
“No, no, no, no. You handpicked Marie for Mikkel. That isn’t going to happen here.”
“It worked out!”
“Mikkel is awkward and complicated. Marie puts up with him because she likes to be spoiled. She tolerates him. They aren’t in love. I have been in love,” I insisted. “Even if you won’t hear it. If I marry—and that is if—I want it to be about love, not because I am forced.”
“You loved someone who?—”
“Loved me?” I asked vein in my neck bulging. “I still love her. I’d run off with her and leave all of this behind if it wouldn’t cost you everything. I do care about this family, believe it or not!”
“Show it, then.”
“August,” Mamma said. “He’s allowed to love her. He is not with her. We don’t need to rehash this again.”
Mamma loved us. She was always good to us. She was a mother before anything else in this world. Without her, I would have been toast ages ago. My father had it up to his neck with me more times than I could count. I knew he wanted the family to live on. That’s why he cared so much, but he took a sledgehammer to me and my self-esteem more than he knew. I had a heart. My mother cared for us, and she knew I was sensitive.
My father dropped it.
“I hit bottom,” I said. “I will give anything a shot. However, I am unconvinced that I could ever love a woman like that.”
“And why? Because she is a kind, sweet person?”
