The Wild Heir(105)

“Well you’re being a father already,” I tell him, patting him on the shoulder. “Giving out marriage advice.”

“Sir,” Schnell appears in the doorway of the dining room with a mobile phone in his hand. “I’m afraid it’s an emergency.”

He rushes in and gives my father the phone, giving me a sympathetic look as he does so. The kind of look that makes my heart still.

I can’t imagine what it could be this time.

“Hello?” my father answers in German. “Yes,” he says, switching to English. Then he looks right at me. “Oh, no. I see. That’s terrible. Thank you for telling me. Yes. I will. Send my regards.”

He hangs up.

“What?” I ask, my stomach sinking fast.

“It’s King Anders. He’s on his deathbed.”



As soon as we got the news, I took the quickest flight back to Oslo. Luckily, already being in Liechtenstein, I was able to fly on my father’s private jet and he came along with me for moral support.

I’m a little bit nervous over the fact that I’m seeing Magnus again, that I’m walking back into a messy, horrid situation that I have no control over, but for the most part, that is buried by my absolute worry for the King.

According to Mari, whom I talked with on the phone on the car ride to the hospital, his organs have started to fail, and he went into shock, apparently right in front of Magnus.

My heart breaks for him, it breaks for his whole family, for the country. I know how well-loved the King is. He’s been so welcoming and good to me, and even though we didn’t see eye-to-eye at the beginning, he’s more than made up for it. He’s the type of person who reigns effortlessly and with a lot of love and that’s how he conducts his life as well. He’s always coming from a good place, even if you don’t agree with his tactics.

And at this point, how could I ever be mad at him for what he did. If he hadn’t told my father that Magnus had proposed, that would have never forced me into this situation with his son.

Which means that no matter what happens, no matter what has happened, having Magnus in my life means more than anything else. He is my life now and I know I’m his and whatever is thrown our way, I know it’s better to stay by his side and weather it, support him, love him, stand by him. I won’t walk from this marriage, I won’t run from him, even if it gets harder from here on in.

We get into the hospital and are quickly escorted to the private ward. It’s both heartening and horrifying to see so many people, including hospital workers, crying over the news. The further we get into the situation, the more I think that all hope is lost.

And then we’re shown to the ICU ward where he’s being treated, and I see the family at the end of the hall. Mari, Cristina, Irene, and Britt. The Queen. They’re all sitting down, some of them crying and leaning against each other, others, like the Queen, looking in total shock.

And then there’s Magnus, halfway between us and the rest of them. Slumped against the wall, his back to me. Even though it’s just his back I can see a range of emotion in it. His devastation devastates me.

I break free of my father’s arm and run down the hall to him.

“Magnus!” I call out.

He turns his head to look at me, his blank and bloodshot eyes blinking a few times until he realizes it’s me and that I’m here.

“Ella,” he cries out hoarsely, opening his arms for me.

I run right into him and he envelopes me into a long, hard hug.

“Ella,” he says again, his face buried in my hair. Then he starts to shake. He starts to cry. He breaks down.

Everything breaks inside me.

To see him like this.

To hold him like this.

My beautiful man is suffering, ravaged by loss and sorrow.

I keep my hold on him, tears falling from my eyes now, feeling his body pressed against mine, wanting him to know that I’m here and though I can’t take away his pain, his heart is safe with mine. It always was.

“I am so sorry,” I tell him, meaning his father, meaning everything.

He nods but continues to cry and I continue to hold on to him as tight as I can.

I’m not sure how much time passes in that hospital hallway, but grief and shock have a way of playing with it. It feels like minutes and hours and days.

But at some point, Magnus calms and regains his breath. By now my father is at the end of the hall, talking to the family.

“I am so sorry,” I tell him again, running my hand over his head. “I know it doesn’t matter right now, but I want you to know I’m here for you. I should have never run away. I’ll never run away again. I’m sorry I said terrible things and I should have behaved more like a lady, like a wife.”

“Ella,” he whispers against me. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” I tell him. “It’s not. I realize I have a lot of growing up to do.”

“So do I.”

“Then we need to do it together, not apart. No matter what happens, I’ll be by your side. I’m standing by my marriage and my man.” I take in a shaking breath. “How is your father? Is he…?”

He glances up at me with pained eyes. “They’re doing everything they can,” he says, his words cracking. “It happened so suddenly. One minute I was talking to him, the next…I guess he went right into shock. Ella, it was horrible. I can’t get it out of my head. All the things I could have said to him.”