A Nordic King(2)

I wanted to come to Madeira, to surprise my wife.

I hadn’t been with her on a proper holiday in some time, so naturally everyone thought it was a romantic gesture.

“Sir,” the voice of Ludwig breaks through my thoughts. “It’s almost time. Should I have Edward pick her up?”

Edward is the sole caretaker of the estate here, which means he doubles as a driver.

I turn in my seat to see Ludwig standing by the door, his posture rigid as always. Ludwig was my father’s advisor until he passed away, and now he’s mine. I like the old man, even if he seems too formal at times. I’ve always been taught to never treat your staff like friends, but it would be nice to have a friend sometimes.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “I’ll drive.”

“Sir?” Ludwig says, somehow standing even taller.

I ease myself up off the chair. “It would be a better surprise, don’t you think, for her to see me at the airstrip?”

“Your Majesty, it’s dark and it’s a terrible road, you know this.”

“And you know that I’m a more than capable driver.”

I’m not being modest. Back in the wild child days of my twenties, I was one of the top rally drivers in Denmark. Then I suffered a terrible crash and at the demands of my parents and the public, I switched from cars to boats. Less collisions on the water, less chance of losing the heir to the throne.

“It really isn’t right to let you drive. The risks…”

“But I’m the King,” I point out as I stride toward him.

He sighs, looking down at his feet. “Precisely.”

“You can’t stop me, Luddie.”

“I won’t, sir,” he says. He gives me a wary glance. “Just … you’re the only king we have. Promise me that you’ll let Nicklas drive the way back.”

Nicklas.

I can’t help the sour smile on my face. I pat Ludwig on the back and move past him.

No one has any idea, do they?

Or if they do, they’re incredibly good at keeping Helena’s secrets.

I ought to have a secret of my own one day, one that’s better than faking a loveless marriage.

Because that’s the truth now. She may have fallen out of love with me but I was soon to follow. How can you let your heart beat for someone when they’ve already torn it in two?

I grab a light jacket from the hall and head out towards the black SUV. Normally Helena insists on riding in a Rolls Royce or Town Cars but with the rugged terrain here on the island, a Land Rover is better.

I get in and start heading down the long winding driveway past the dormant rows of our own on-site winery and out the gates.

I’m struck by a vague memory, of being a child when we used to come here as a family. Running through the vineyards with my sister Stella, hiding from my nanny when it was bedtime. I was so young and so free, only because I didn’t know any better. I didn’t realize the trap of royalty, that having money and privilege came at a terrible price that you could never ignore.

I was groomed to be a king from the day I was born.

I just never knew what that meant.

I never knew what it would take from me.

My hands tighten on the wheel as I drive through the dark, under old oak trees. The road twists and turns like an artery.

I’m trying to think about what I’m going to say to them.

But whenever I form words in my head, rage takes over.

So I let my mind go blank for the rest of the drive until I’m pulling up just outside the airstrip, thirty minutes later. Normally I wouldn’t go anywhere without Ludwig, or a royal attendant such as Edward, but as King, I can make my own rules and tonight I needed to be alone. Besides, no one would even suspect that it’s me behind the wheel at this tiny private airstrip at the base of the mountains.

I keep the car running, peering over the steering wheel to see one of our small private jets. Helena and Nicklas are walking away from the plane. She’s a little ahead of him, keeping up appearances. For now.

They walk through the gate in the chain-link fence, Helena spotting the car.

But as they get closer, her gait slows, her brow is furrowed as much as the Botox will allow. Rain has started to fall, blurring her image through the windshield. She knows it’s me.

I get out of the car and nod to her and Nicklas.

The look on her face is priceless. I wish I were a bigger man than to relish such petty desires but it’s the truth. She’s looking at me with pure disappointment, realizing now that she can’t spend her trip fucking Nicklas. Followed by fear. Fear that she’ll be found out, fear that I know something—why else would I be here?

“Did you have a nice flight?” I ask them, keeping my voice steady and light. It’s amazing how well I can do that. My features rarely betray the inferno inside.

“What are you doing here?” Helena asks, her voice coming out in a breathless hiss.

I keep the fake smile on my lips and gesture to the car. “I wanted it to be a surprise. We so rarely get to spend time together. I can’t remember the last time we were here. Usually it’s just you and Nicklas, just the two of you, isn’t that right?”

As I say his name, my eyes are fixed on his and I have to control the rage inside me as much as I can. Even looking at him makes my blood boil. He’s a lot younger than me, early thirties, with these blank eyes and a perpetual sneer to his lips. On first appearances, he doesn’t talk much and seems to be there strictly to obey. But I know better. He may act like a dutiful butler but he’ll be the first one to throw you to the sharks. For helvede, he is the shark.