The Wild Heir(53)

“Oh, well thank you,” she says, and I notice she’s put on a bit of makeup as well, not just covering up the bruises but adding some smoky eyeliner that makes her look a little bit older and definitely sexier.

Then again, I also think there’s nothing sexier than Ella first thing in the morning, padding down the hall in her fluffy robe and slippers, her face bare, her eyes sleepy, her long blonde hair cascading messily around her. She always looks like she got rightly fucked in her sleep.

I’m starting to think I’d do anything to make her look that way myself.

Now that she’s ready, we don’t waste any time. Jane and Ottar stay behind so it’s just Einar taking us to Oslo.

It almost feels like a date as we sit in the back seat of the car, and I debate with myself whether I should reach out and hold her hand or not. But I know at this point I have nothing to lose. Time is running out, and with each second, I know how these two weeks will end.

I grab her hand, and while she flinches at my contact, she doesn’t quite pull away. She lets me hold it there, resting between us on the middle seat.

Even though it’s a long car and Einar is in the front, I lower my voice and softly sing, “Question tiiiiime.”

She gives me a look that says, really? Here?

I go on. “Do you like this? Me, holding your hand?”

She stares at me with big eyes, her brows doing a dance while she once again wrestles with different answers. But finally she nods and says quietly, “Yes.”

I want her to elaborate but I don’t think I’ll get much more out of her.

For now, I feel like I’ve just been handed a victory. The battle isn’t over, but this is a huge step for us. Who the hell would have thought that one day I would equate hand-holding to fucking? But it’s true. Holding Ella’s hand feels like I’m holding on to sunshine.

We pull into the dark, wet streets of downtown Oslo and Einar parks the car around the corner from the bar.

“Do you miss this area?” Ella asks me. I’m still holding her hand as we walk down the nearly empty street, Einar trailing behind us.

“It’s only been ten days,” I tell her.

“I know. But it feels like it’s been a lifetime somehow.”

I know what she means. The estate has turned into a time warp of sorts. “Do you miss school?” I ask her.

She thinks that over. “Yes and no. I miss the classes, the learning. I don’t miss living there. It was rather lonely.”

Something about her admission breaks my heart a little. I don’t want this girl to be lonely, not after what she’s been through. “What about Jane? That must help? You two are close.”

“We are.” She gives me a small smile. “She’s the closest person to me. But, you know, she’s still paid for by my father. He gives her a paycheck to look after me, so as close as I am with her, I wonder what would happen if she were fired or my father decided it wasn’t worth it anymore. Would she stick around? Maybe not.”

“I’m sure she would.”

“Would Ottar?”

I laugh softly. “Ottar would leave so fast it would be like one of those cartoons where you’d see an Ottar-shaped hole in the wall.”

She giggles. “I can see that.”

We stop outside of Harold’s. The front window is all frosted glass so you can’t see inside the bar from the outside. Harold’s is written across it, the paint gold and peeling.

“By the way,” I say, pulling her close to me before I open the door. “I may have told them that we’re already engaged.”

“Why would you do that?” she cries out softly.

“Hey, it’s no worse than what you told your father,” I remind her. “Let’s just say I was feeling optimistic.”

“Do you still feel optimistic?”

I raise her hand up so it’s between our chests. “The fact that you’ve let me hold your hand this whole time gives me a reason to think so.”

Then I open the door.

“Prince,” Harold calls out merrily and then stops rubbing down the bar counter the moment he sees Ella. “Who have we here?”

“Is this her?” Slender Man asks from the booth, his voice so high and anxious I half expect him to start fluttering his hands. “Is this your fiancé?”

“This is her,” I say proudly. “This is the future Princess Isabella of Norway.”

Maud staggers out of her seat and comes forward for an inspection, peering over Ella at close range.

“Getting a good look there, Maud?” I ask, then realize I’ve been speaking Norwegian. I switch to English. “Ella, here, is from Liechtenstein,” I say, putting my hand at her back and leading her over to the end of the bar furthest from the door. “So she doesn’t know much Norwegian yet, except for some swear words. But don’t worry. I’m working on teaching her more swear words.”

I introduce her to everyone, and then once Einar is inside, I go over to the door and lock it, explaining to Harold that because our engagement is still a secret, we can’t risk the public knowing about it.

“And don’t worry, dear,” Maud says to Ella between sips of her martini. “We won’t tell a soul. All the souls we know are either dead or right here.” Then she goes into a long speech about all the lovers she’s had that died, all the classic film stars she knew that died, all the people who will probably die soon, and so on.