Page 20 of Royal Reluctance

“But, Bo, thereis. You can’t think—”

“Did you tell Abigail we’re coming to see Tema?”

The abrupt veer into Tema territory has my thoughts come to a screeching halt. “Tema?”

“I’m meeting her. Now.”

This is more urgent than sorting out the brainwash that Bo has been doing to himself for all these years. “You can’t,” I tell him, my voice high-pitched with fear.

“Why not?” Bo has never been anything other than a gentle, considerate man, but there’s none of that Bo left. Dealing with the guilt of his mother dying—at least the perceived guilt—is enough, but throw in a child that he never knew about might be too much.

I didn’t think enough about what this would do to him.Isdoing to him.

“You can, but you need to wait. I need to prepare her,” I counter quickly. “She needs time.”

“You don’t think I deserve time? This is why I came back.”

“Bo, she’sseven. She’s—” But it’s the look in Bo’s eyes that stops me. There’s anger and confusion, but also fiery determination—the same determination I saw when he proposed to me.

When he told me he wanted to marry me, that he wanted a life with me, he looked like nothing was going to stop him. My protests, my arguments that it wasn’t a good idea fell on deaf ears. I always thought it was because I didn’t really want to protest, that I didn’t really believe my arguments, but maybe Bo has more determination than anyone ever gave him credit for.

“Seven years, Hettie. I don’t want to waste another minute of not knowing our daughter.”

I can’t hold out any longer. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Bo had always been quiet—introverted, great one-on-one or in small groups, but he hated crowds. I understand that because I’m the same way. Both of our families had been full of big personalities, and being with Bo meant I was never pushed into the background.

We met when we were fifteen; it took him over two years to convince me that a Crow could be the girlfriend of a prince of Laandia. My family is… The Crows are known around Laandia and not in a good way. The daughter of a woman who abandoned her family and a father who cared more about his boat and how much fish he caught never ended up with Prince Charming in any of the fairy tales I read.

It wasn’t until I was almost twenty that Bo told me he always considered himself like Rapunzel, trapped in the tower and I was the princess who rescued him.

It was an interesting way to look at his life.

I don’t remember when he first talked about getting married, but he talked about it like it was a done deal. I never really believed it would happen, mainly because I wanted it so much and I was brought up never to trust that you’ll get what you want, unless you take it. But then there was the summer when Bo turned twenty-one, and still kept talking about it. Kalle was playing baseball then, and it was all the family could talk about, as well as Odin’s historical projects and Gunnar starting to race cars.

Bo didn’t feel like he had a place in his family and he talked about having his own family, with me.

And finally when the summer blended into the fall, I gave in. “Okay. When?”

Less than a week later we were married in a secret ceremony at the cabin in Wabush with only Spencer Laz, my best friend Abigail, and Jean and Buck Marsden in attendance.

Two days after that, we came back. And then the crash that killed Queen Selene happened and changed everything.

Bo changed. Gone was the sweet and funny guy who always told me about the books he was reading, and who loved to challenge me in chess to see who picked the next movie we would watch. Who taught me about trees and the animals who lived in them, and would borrow planes to go flying early in the morning to see the sun rise.

Who wielded an ax like one of his Viking ancestors; only he attacked trees rather than his enemies.

Bo was haunted by his mother’s death; the entire family was. The royal family was close, much closer than my family. They were all grieving.

But it was something more with Bo. He never let me comfort him. He wouldn’t see me, talk to me. For four whole days after the funeral, I couldn’t get hold of him. This was my brand-new husband and I couldn’t find him. The castle didn’t know we were married, and no one would tell me anything. I was frantic.

When he finally called, I burst into tears. I raced to meet him, so I could hold him. Comfort him.

Love him.

But instead, he told me that marrying me had been a mistake.

Looking back, I can see he didn’t mean it, that he was hurting and pushing everyone away, but at the time, it literally broke my heart. Unable to eat, too numb to cry, write a best-selling-song-heartbroken.

---