Page 100 of Royal Rising

I give a surprised laugh. Kalle—looking very good in a dark-coloured suit and purple tie—stands outside Battle Harbour General Hospital facing down a scrum of reporters.

This must be his worst nightmare but he’s making a joke? Kalle issmiling, standing tall without gripping the podium. His beard has been freshly trimmed and something has been done with his hair. Styled with product, perhaps, done by someone who knows what they’re doing, so not Kalle.

He looks…hot.So attractive that my knees weaken enough for me to need to climb onto a stool while I watch, mouth hanging open.Sexy.The reporters are eating up this onslaught of charm Kalle is eking out.

But it’s more than that. Kalle looks…

“Like a king,” I whisper.

A bubble of pride bursts and I can’t stop smiling. Laughing. He can do this.

He takes questions, and it’s not as smooth and polished as King Magnus, but Spencer is right beside him to bolster with information or the right word when Kalle stumbles. But it’s the smile he wears that will win the country over, the ease at which he stands taking leadership.

Kalle is showing the world that he’s going to be king one day, and he’ll be okay in the role.

I always knew he had it in him. And now everyone will too.

36

Kalle

Itake a coupleof shaky breaths after the press conference is over and I’ve escaped into the hospital to see Dad.

Doctors and nurses smile and nod, keeping their distance as they watch me perform like I know what I'm doing. Those who don’t work there take any opportunity to get close to me. I pose for a few pictures and wave goodbye to those in the waiting room as I duck around an older woman with a nasty cough. I jump into the elevator, holding out my hands as Chase applies sanitizer.

“That went better than I thought,” I say to Spencer.

“Dude.” Spencer gives me a thump on the shoulder, happiness and, yes, relief written over his face. “You did great. Like you’ve been doing that for years.”

My first press conference was at thirty-two. Odin has been doing that for years, and even Gunnar knows how to finagle a group of crusty reporters wherever country he’s in, but I’ve never had the need to talk to the press.

Or wanted to.

That was first on the list that Duncan and Spencer gave me this morning. Press conference, quick visit with Dad, look at the pier, talk to people at the docks to see how they fared with the storm. Beseen around town. Check out any damage. Back to the castle for a meeting with the Canadian Minister of Foreign Affairs—Duncan has yet to brief me on what that’s about, but at least I know Seamus O’Regan so it won’t be too bad. Then there’s some dinner tonight in St. Johns that I have to take the plane for, but I can do that.

I won’t get any time to see Edie.

My first instinct was to bring her along for all of this, but I knew even before I suggested it that it wouldn’t work. Edie has her own responsibilities—running the bar. If I have to take over for Dad, then she’s going to have to manage everything on her own. She’s more than capable, but only if I let her do it. I can’t drag her away for the day, as much as I want to.

And I really want to, because last night…

Last night was amazing.

Or this morning, rather. I can still feel the softness of her skin, how her lips moved under mine when we kissed.

Sixteen years of waiting and the reality more than made up for it.

Or maybe not. I would have rather been kissing her for all this time.

“What’s going on?” Spencer demands. I shake my head. “You just talked to a bunch of reporters that, in the past, haven’t been your biggest fans. And you lookhappyabout it.”

“I’m not happy about it.” But then I glance at myself in the reflection in the elevator, and immediately frown. My lips had been curved in what can be called a smile, my forehead wasn’t creased in my usual scowl…

I relax and realize it can be said that, yes, I look happy.

“Then why—ah.” Spencer’s expression transforms into understanding. “Edie?”

I shrug but can’t hide the smile. “We might try… you know. Not friends.”

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