A Nordic King(21)

I laugh. I don’t know what’s funnier, the thought of Aksel on a bike or the fact that at any given time you might be strolling around Copenhagen and see the King whiz past you on two wheels. “I can’t picture it,” I admit.

“His Majesty used to do many things,” he says. “Risky things.”

Again, Aksel doesn’t seem like a risk-taker or rule-breaker. If anything, he’s the guy who makes the rules just to piss other people off. “Like what?”

“Ask him why he took up sailing,” he says with a laugh.

I recall seeing pictures of him on a boat though I didn’t think he was an actual sailor. Usually rich dudes just sit on boats and drink and look pretty while someone else does all the hard work. Still, I make a note to ask Aksel one day, hopefully when he’s in a good mood.

If that’s even possible.

The drive to the school is fairly short and Clara seems pretty excited to go, which I take as a good sign.

“So you like your classmates?” I ask her as the car slows down. I can see the school in the distance, which is a rather non-descript building in a quaint, leafy residential area.

“Not really,” she says with a shrug.

She says this in such a casual way that I blink at her for a moment. “What? Why? Are they mean?”

She seems to consider this as she stares out the window at the passing schoolkids. It’s hard not to notice that every single parent and child is staring at the Town Car, either with disdain, apprehension, or envy.

“No,” she says slowly. “They just don’t want to be my friend. That’s okay.”

“Here we are,” Henrik says as he pulls up to the curb.

They don’t want to be her friend? Well that’s definitely a conversation for another time.

“Thank you Henrik,” Clara says politely, opening the door herself.

I get out of the car and quickly run—which is hard in this skirt—over to the other side to help her out, taking her backpack out. I close the door and go to grab her hand but she subtly pulls it back.

“You don’t have to hold my hand,” she says, taking the backpack from my hands and swinging it over her shoulder. “None of the other nannies did.” She looks over her shoulder at the school entrance where kids are filing in. “You don’t have to walk me over either.”

It seems like most parents are walking their kids to the door but…

“Okay,” I tell her. I know at her age the school dynamics can be tricky enough and that’s without factoring in the whole princess thing. “I’ll be here after school, though.”

“Cool,” she says, giving me a thumbs up as she turns and walks off. Everyone looks at her as she goes but she walks with her head held high. That attitude probably only makes things worse for her at this age with the whole “princess” title, but believe it or not, I can relate. I grew up with people whispering about me or my parents in one way or another and the only thing you can do is just smile and pretend it doesn’t bother you, no matter how much you’re breaking on the inside.

After she disappears into the building, I get back in the car and Henrik drives me back to the palace, back to casual chit-chat along the way. There’s a lot I want to ask—about everything—but I have to remind myself it’s only the first day. God willing, they’ll be plenty of time to learn things on my own.

When I get back, Maja passes Freja off to me and leaves, telling me to call for Agnes, the head housekeeper, if I need anything, and I suddenly feel bereft. The truth is, compared to most of the places I’ve been a nanny, I’ve never had this level of guidance before and I’m eternally grateful that Maja has been here to show me the ropes, even if she’s a bit stuffy at times. But now with her gone, the panic and fear is starting to set in. I feel like all my years of experience have just disintegrated in my hands and I have no clue what I’m doing.

Freja is especially quiet and I’m still not sure if that’s how she always is or if she’s just that way around me. I ask her what she wants to do and she has zero suggestions, so, considering her interest in all things “Gods,” I take out my iPad and start telling her stories about the Goddess Freya before going into the Greek gods route which I know well. For a moment I think that maybe this is considered paganism or something and Aksel would blow a gasket if he knew, but she’s so enthralled by my every word, that I know it’s worth it.

The rest of the day goes by fairly quickly, just Freja and I roaming around the palace halls or playing with her “dolly” collection in her room, which is actually a hodgepodge of plush animals, American Girl dolls and Barbies. Both girls have enough to open up their own toy store but I guess I can’t fault them for being a bit spoiled. Their tragedy and princess title aside, they’re both so darling that it would be hard to say no to them.

But even after I pick up Clara from school, I don’t see Aksel or Maja anywhere. I know it’s dangerous to ask the girls what they normally do before dinner, lest they suggest they play the infamous game of hide and seek or ride mattresses down the grand staircases, so I catch Clara up on some of the Norse and Greek gods stuff she missed and then ask if she has any homework she wants me to go over with her.

Of course, everything is in Danish but at least I can help with math problems. We’re just finishing up in their room, seated at a low play desk in the middle while Freja plays with her dolls, idly glancing at us from time to time, when there’s a knock at the door.