A Nordic King

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.

Helena just nods. She can’t even smile. She gets in the back seat and tells Nicklas to drive.

“I’m driving,” I tell her. “Nicklas is tired from traveling, I’m sure.”

“It’s not a problem,” he says but I wave him off and get back in the driver’s seat, letting them figure out where they want to sit.

Outside a breeze is picking up, and bigger drops of rain are starting to pool on the windshield, illuminated by the dull glow of the airplane hangar. The blood in my ears is a steady whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

Finally, Helena gets in the backseat, with Nicklas in the passenger seat. Either she’s so used to being driven around that sitting in the front seems uncouth, or she can’t stand me that much. I’m guessing it’s a bit of both.

The drive is silent. I have to force the conversation at the start, asking about the children, asking about the weather. I know for a fact that my aunt Maja is taking care of Clara and Freja right now but it’s funny how little Helena seems to know. Or maybe it’s not funny at all. Perhaps it’s just sad.

My heart clenches at the thought of what I’m about to do.

How I’m about to ruin it all.

I know what my father would say.

I know that he’d tell me that love was never part of the deal. Fuck, he’s the one who warned me from the start about Helena and how her school-girl crush was never quite what it seemed. That’s the one reason I was so hesitant about her to begin with. But she was beautiful and so devoted and made me feel like a king well before I ever became one.

This is my role, to pretend. This is the throne I sit on, one carved from lies, old as the ages.

But not anymore.

The last reasonable thought I have is of my children and how their world would be infinitely happier if I just pretended and pretended and pretended.

I should do it for them.

Everything for them.

Yet it doesn’t stop the words that grind out of my mouth.

“I know about the two of you,” I say.

We’re about halfway to the palace, the road climbing, the rain falling wildly in front of the headlights.

I’d think that neither of them heard me, judging by their lack of reaction, but Nicklas stiffens up just a bit. I eye Helena in the rearview mirror but can barely make out her profile. She seems to be staring out at the passing dark.

I can’t say I’m surprised. Denial is her favorite word.

“You heard me,” I say again. “I know.”

Finally, Nicklas says something. “Know what, sir?”

I let out a caustic laugh. “Sir? Really? You pretend to revere me as your King and yet insult me at the same time by fucking my wife.”

“Aksel!” Helena cries out. “Stop this nonsense. You’re crazy!”

“Crazy? I’m not fucking crazy. I’m not fucking stupid either. Everyone knows, Helena. Everyone. I suppose I was the last, and maybe that makes me crazy in your eyes, but everyone knows you’ve been a lying whore.”

“How dare you,” she seethes. “You crazy, jealous fool.”

My smile feels like acid. “I dare. I dare because I’m no longer the fool. I finally know the truth and I can’t ignore it anymore. I can’t pretend anymore.” Then something inside me feels like it’s breaking. The betrayal. The destruction of my heart that I know will never recover. “Don’t you feel the same?”

“I’m not discussing this,” Helena says, looking away, arms crossed in a huff. “And if that’s why you bothered to pick me up, then you’ve started the wrong war because I will fucking destroy you. You hear me? I will destroy you and take everything you love. Even the girls.”

“Motherfucker!” I yell, pounding my fists on the steering wheel, the car nearly going off the road. “You don’t give a shit about anything, do you? Just your image! Just what you can take! All you’ve ever done is take, take, take!”

“Aksel, please,” Nicklas says, his voice growing louder, nervous.

“Please?” My eyes bore into him just as I correct the car back onto the road. “Please? Your manners forsake you. You don’t give a shit about any of this. You’re only fucking her because you think it will spite me, that you’ll take my place. Guess what? She’ll ditch you as quickly as she ditched me! You think I’m some one-off victim, a fool she gets to blind? She went after me from the start! She pretended to want me, pretended to love me, all to get the crown. Now she has it. Now she has the crown and she’s pretending to want you, only to flaunt what a shallow, lying bitch she is!”

“The fuck you’ll talk to her that way!” Nicklas yells, punching me in the arm, trying to go for my face. It’s now that I know for sure that I’ve hit a nerve. You can’t hide love when it’s been insulted, threatened. He thinks what they have is genuine and real. Who’s the fucking fool now?

“Nicklas!” Helena yells, unbuckling her seatbelt and coming forward between the seats, trying to break us apart. “Stop it!”