Stealing Cinderella(9)
“Ah, right.” I sip from a glass of akevitt as I stare out the window. “A charitable grand gesture you will certainly be praised for.”
“And you punished for.” Calder salutes me with his glass. “What a fucking world we live in.”
Though Calder is my twin, I was born first, which makes me the heir apparent to the Norwegian throne. And almost as if fate was having a laugh, she blessed me with dark hair and dark looks, while he is lighter in features and humor. In short, the media has always loved him. Calder Lykken can do no wrong, and I can do no right.
“It will make Mor happy,” he says. “And we both know you’d never deny her.”
A bitter taste coats my tongue as the suffocating weight of the impending crown threatens to crush me. I’ve been trapped, caged my entire life by expectations and a title I can’t shake. I’m not just the future king of Norway. I’m also one of the most hated men in Scandinavia. Reality is frigid, but Calder is right. I want my mother’s last months on this earth to be peaceful. I want her to be happy, but more than anything, I just want to escape.
“Who knows?” Calder shrugs. “Maybe you could actually meet someone at this ball. Someone who doesn’t even hate you yet.”
“She’d have to be deaf or blind.”
“Who gives a fuck what the media says about you?” His eyes dim with frustration he can’t hide. “You just need to relax a little. Maybe try a smile every now and then, just to see if you still can.”
“I think you should leave the head shrinking for Dr. Blom,” I answer dryly. “Personality aside, there isn’t a woman on this earth who could tempt me into marriage.”
“They aren’t all like Anja.” Calder watches me carefully as he mentions the woman I haven’t spoken of in six years.
My blood pressure rises as the barrage of her deception plays through my mind like a bad home movie. She represents everything I’ve come to loathe about my position. A snake in the grass, waiting for the right moment to strike. I was bitten once, poisoned by the venom I thought was love. Now, I cut their heads off with vicious words and erect a shield of cruelty that ensure they’ll never get close enough to sink their teeth in again.
“No, they aren’t all like her.” My head pounds with the onslaught of a headache. “They are even worse.”
Calder glances around the cabin to make sure our security detail isn’t listening. A sign that I’m not going to like whatever he’s about to say next.
“I won’t pretend to understand what it must have been like,” he says. “The first woman you finally took a chance on after everything that happened—”
“Calder.” My voice is a warning, but unlike most people, my brother has never heeded the caution flags in front of him.
“You shut down. You isolate yourself, and you tell everyone you’re okay, but I know you aren’t. I hate to say it, but Mor is right. You need someone in your life. If you can’t talk to me, and you can’t be honest with Dr. Blom, then it needs to be someone else. These secrets you’re keeping, they’re going to poison you, Thor.”
“I have no secrets.” I look out the window, watching the clouds swirl around me. “Only lies.”
Calder falls quiet, but I know his mind is still working. He is always thinking. Planning. Trying to save me somehow. He cares, and that is his only fault. Sometimes, I think it would be so much easier if he didn’t. If he could just hate me like everyone else, I wouldn’t have to worry about disappointing him.
“Want to tag team the flight attendant?” He changes the subject. “I bet she’d love to have a royal cock up her ass.”
“You can have this one,” I reply somberly, my mood darkening as we get closer to England.
“That’s right. You only like the ones who hate fuck you.”
He leaves me alone with my thoughts and disappears into the back where the flight attendant is supposed to be gathering snacks. A moment later, she laughs, and it isn’t long before she’s moaning.
I tune it out, retrieving the phone from my pocket and scanning the email Prince Aston sent with the details of the masked charity ball. If I had to rate on a scale of one to ten how many fucks I give about attending, zero wouldn’t be a low enough number. But this is the life of an heir. I am doomed to be paraded in front of the masses to perform my royal duties because I had the unfortunate luck of being born first.
Something rattles in the back of the plane, and Calder groans. The sound of skin slapping against skin distracts me from my thoughts for a moment as I try to recall the last time I fucked a woman. Was it the hotel maid in Barcelona? Or the stewardess on the latest yacht trip? Their faces blend, but one thing is for certain. I haven’t dipped my cock in a woman for far too long. Calder’s offer to join them should have tempted me, but those games don’t have as much appeal as they used to. So, instead, I focus on my email, trying to absorb the details for whatever the fuck it is I’m supposed to do. I’m near the end of the list when Calder returns, tucking his shirt in and flopping back into the seat with a satisfied grin.
“She’ll be needing a new uniform.”
“You never mentioned anything about this.” I glare at him.
“What?”
I shove the phone toward him, pointing out the clause that states we are participating in the speed dating event.