Page 81 of The Royals Upstairs


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Despite the pep talk with Lady Jane about James, I don’t actually work up the nerve to pull him aside and talk to him about how I feel. It’s been a week now, and I’ve done nothing to deal with it, my love for him turning into a festering mess inside me, until I must be bleeding out through my pores. Every time I see him now I feel like I can’t breathe and my gut churns and my heart beats wildly, as if to remind me that it’s still here and it wants what it wants. I’m lovesick, and it sucks, and I don’t think James has any idea.

But today we’re going out with the family to Holmenkollen, the ski jump in Oslo where one of Ella’s environmental charities is holding a competition, and I’m looking forward to being out of the house and around civilization. The more distance I can put between James and me, the better, if I’m going to be a wreck around him. And once he’s in bodyguard mode, he becomes even more untouchable.

We ride to the event in two separate cars, but because I’m with the boys, James is with me. Even being in the close confines of a car with him makes my blood run hot, despite the fact that Bjorn and Tor are yelling and bouncing around in their seats at the excitement of seeing some ski jumping.

“Ah, field trips,” James says as we get out of the car, breathing in deeply as he looks around. Holmenkollen is located at the top of the five-hundred-meter mountain that overlooks Oslo, giving stupendous views of the city and harbor. Up here the snow is deeper, the sun brighter, and the air fresh and cold. There’s a large black wooden chapel up here as well, which we went to for the Christmas ceremony, and next to it the Royal Lodge where the king and queen spend a lot of their holidays.

James gives me a small smile before he slips on his sunglasses, then his face turns into a mask, and I know he won’t say another word to me until we’re back in the car going home.

I bring my attention to the boys and do what I can to keep them in the background and out of the way as we follow Magnus and Ella through the crowd toward the podium, where an even larger crowd has gathered. We Norwegians love everything to do with skiing, and this sort of event is no exception, especially at Holmenkollen, which is serviced by the Oslo Metro line, making it easy for anyone to come and visit.

To be honest, the crowds are making me a little uneasy. The distraction from James feels good at first, but after a while there are just too many people and too much to focus on. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve gotten used to the isolation at the estate, but today seems especially overwhelming.

And I’m not the only one who feels it. Bjorn is starting to get anxious, and even sweet Tor is getting fussy and squirmy. I hold on to both of them with an iron grip, keeping them far behind their parents as Ella starts to make her speech about what the charity did for the Norwegian environment last year and the new goals for this year. The whole event is basically an excuse to get the public reinterested in Ella and Norway’s environmental initiative. Despite being a country funded mainly by oil and gas, Norway already has some hearty subsidies when it comes to electric cars, making it the country with the most electric cars per capita in the world. The number of Teslas on the street rivals California.

“I want to go on the ski jump,” Bjorn cries out, tugging me in that direction.

“Bjorn,” I say, bending down to whisper to him. “You know you have to be quiet while your mother is talking. Remember last week when you said you would behave.”

He grumbles something under his breath, and I do not want to know what it is, but at least he calms down for a moment. I take the reprieve to glance around. James is standing just to the side of us and behind while Einar is at the side of Magnus and Ella. Both of them seem especially cagey today, their heads constantly swiveling. There are so many people here, and it’s only now that I’ve noticed a few protesters being held back by police, members of the oil and gas industry who aren’t happy with all the new environmental policy, no thanks to Princess Ella.

Ella pays them no mind and continues with her speech. When it’s over, Magnus leans in to the microphone and announces that the ski-jumping competition has officially begun, and everyone starts clapping.

“The boring bit is over now,” Bjorn says, tugging at my hand, and I have to bite back a laugh at that.

I put a hand on Bjorn’s shoulder and start guiding him away from the crowd, with him in front of me. “Okay, let’s go see the ski jump.”

I squeeze Tor’s hand to get him to follow, and as I do so, I glance over my shoulder at James. It’s so hard not to look at him, and I don’t expect him to be looking my way.

But he is looking my way. I can’t tell exactly what he’s looking at under his sunglasses, but he’s facing me, and his brows start to come together like he’s about to be upset or yell or something.

Instinctively I whirl around, looking at the crowd, just in time to see a tall, skinny man with a scarred face approaching me. He’s coming fast, his strides assured, and in his eyes I see only malice and a frenzied mind.

He means us harm, I think absently, fear numbing my brain.

He’s coming straight for us, not slowing down, and I see in his hand the glint of a knife.

I grip Bjorn’s shoulder hard enough for him to cry out, and I quickly shove him behind me, putting myself between the man and the boys. I hear someone in the crowd shout, “He’s got a knife!” Or maybe it’s me who says it. All I know is that I can’t let any harm come to my kids, even if it means I’m about to be stabbed.

The man opens his mouth in a garbled scream, spittle flying, the knife raised, and while everyone seems to be moving around us, no one seems fast enough to prevent the man from stabbing me right in the heart.

Except for James.

Suddenly he’s all I see, his big strong body in his fine tailored suit throwing himself in front of me and taking the brunt of the attacker.

I scream, stumbling backward, terrified that the man just stabbed James, and there are hands behind me, holding me up. The boys are screaming and Magnus and Ella are yelling as Einar swoops in to hustle them away from danger.

And all I can think of is James, my James, and I watch as he wrestles the attacker to the ground, bending the man’s arms so that the knife is dropped. James makes quick work of him, pinning the man down with his knee, holding his hands above his head, and for one horribly inappropriate moment I imagine James using that move in the bedroom, before the harsh reality of what’s actually happening slams back in.

“Laila,” Ottar says from behind me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me and the boys away, but I’m fighting against him, trying to see if James is okay.

“James,” I cry out, a choked sound. “Is he okay?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Ottar says. “Please come with me. That’s an order.”

I’ve never had Ottar order me around before, and the gravity in his voice makes me listen. Lady Jane then swoops in and takes Bjorn and Tor, who are bawling uncontrollably, absolutely terrified.

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