A Nordic King(11)

“Then give me a good reason why you’re saying no.”

“I’m your King. I don’t need a reason.”

She narrows her eyes. Unfortunately, this kind of talk doesn’t ever work on her like it works on the rest of the nation.

“I have to tell her something,” she says.

“Then tell her I don’t like her face.”

Her eyes bug out. “My god. What’s wrong with you? I can’t say that.”

I shrug. “It’s the truth.”

“Have you gone mad? Blind? That woman out there is quite beautiful.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

Or, it will be a problem. I don’t need any distractions in my life and I certainly don’t need a repeat of whatever twist I got in my chest when I looked into her big brown eyes. It hurt like hell.

“Aksel, I haven’t seen you look twice at a woman ever since…”

“This is not about me,” I tell her hastily. “A woman like that, young, attractive, she won’t last long. Some man will sweep her off her feet if they haven’t already and she’ll leave us.”

“I do believe she’s single.”

“Right. Which makes this worse. Find someone who is more…”

I raise my brows, expecting her to fill in the blanks without me having to say it.

“You want to hire someone less attractive, is that it?”

“I just don’t want to hire her.”

“That’s discrimination.”

I let out a dry laugh. “What isn’t these days? Listen, I’ve made up my mind. A nanny like that is probably flighty and unreliable, and she’s just going to up and leave and we’re going to start this process all over again.”

“But sir, she—”

I sit down at my desk and busy myself with papers, waving her away with my hand. “Send her back to the airport and on her merry way. That’s final.”

I hear Maja sigh. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The door closes behind her.

Finally, space to breathe.

I put my head down on the desk and close my eyes, letting my thoughts run rampant for a minute before I rein them in.

That was bizarre, to say the least, and I have no idea what came over me out there. I took one look at the Australian and it was like something pierced my heart. In a terrible way.

There was nothing familiar about her. In fact, everything about her seemed wholly unique, from the paleness of her skin against her mahogany hair to the pouting curve of her lips to those eyes. Damn those eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any so big and brown before, like she was a fucking cartoon. They completely caught me off-guard.

I don’t like being caught off my guard.

My guard is up for a reason.

And as a result, she has to go.

I have to say, I do feel better after making that decision. I abhor complications and especially when it involves feelings. There is no place for them in my position—you’d think I would have learned that enough while growing up. I certainly learned that with Helena. And after she died, I might as well be branded with it. Feelings don’t just complicate things, they kill.

God, how they kill.

Luckily my phone rings, distracting me from my thoughts. It’s a call from one of Helena’s various charities. That was her real passion in life, not me, and her charity work did come from a very genuine place. She was often called the next Princess Diana—funny how that turned into a prophecy—for her generous nature toward the people, toward animals, and it was never a stretch. As twisted as our relationship was and how damn cruel she could be at times, the public only sees her in a radiant light. No matter what, I’ll never tamper with her reputation.

There’s a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I say, wondering who it is now.

Maja pokes her head in.

“Tell me you have another nanny candidate with you,” I say gruffly.

“I have your children,” she says, pushing the door wider so that Clara and Freja appear. “And they’d like to have a word with you.”

Even if I’m in a mood, my girls always bring a softness to my heart, a smile to my face.

“Girls,” I say to them. “What do you have to say?” I quickly glance up at Maja. “Don’t you have someone to accompany back to the airport?”

Maja just nods and closes the door, leaving me with Clara and Freja.

Both of whom look upset.

“Come over here. What happened?” I ask.

Clara takes Freja’s hand and leads her over to the side of my desk. Though just a year older than Freja, she’s always been the bossy one and the sweet girl has really stepped up ever since the accident, taking her sister under her wing.

“Freja won’t stop crying,” Clara says, putting her sister on the spot.

I peer at Freja and her red nose and watery eyes. She won’t meet my eye, won’t say anything either. I can’t stand to see either one upset and sometimes I feel like being a father is akin to constantly having your heart broken.

“What is it?” I ask Freja, leaning in close. “Why are you crying?”

She doesn’t say anything, just bites her lip. Freja is quiet and emotional so I’m used to having to wring things out of her. Clara, on the other hand, is loud and bossy and really doesn’t seem to be affected by anything. Sometimes I worry about that, but then again, when am I not worrying about them?