Page 13 of Gotta Have Mistletoe
“I, uh—” I doubt I’ve ever been as inarticulate.
Anders doesn’t care.
Would he be fine if I were dating a man?
But I’m certain I already have my answer. My cells zing through my body, and it’s all I can do to avoid colliding into anything else.
“You can say, ‘Olav, you really know best.’ Or even... ‘Olav, let me give you the Solbergian National Award’.”
I open my mouth to contradict him, then I shut it.
Because maybe Olavdidknow best. Maybe I should have listened to him. For the first time, I regret this whole charade.
Maybe someone else is out there for me. And if that person happens to be a man... maybe that wouldn’t be terrible. Maybe it would only be wonderful that I found someone.
I slide into a seat in the private room.
The countess’s daughter remains late.
I resist the impulse to squirm in my seat and pretend I don’t notice people’s gazes flick to me with ever-increasing regularity. I insisted we go to Nevada. Only Olav knows the announcement I’m about to make.
My leg jiggles, and I press a palm to my knee.
Kings are cool and collected. Regal and resolute in the face of enemies. Leaders and representatives of their countries.
I won’t make a fool of Solberg. Not when Solberg is the best country in the world. Not when my people don’t deserve that.
My gold-and-platinum watch, passed down from my great-grandfather, gleams. The long hand is dangerously over whereit should be. But then, decades-old watches, even ridiculously expensive ones, might not tick with commendable regularity.
Olav, Anders, and the journalist I invited sit across from me, expectant and confused. The staff have put up a podium on the balcony, and we’ll move there once the countess’s daughter arrives.
If she arrives.
In truth, we were supposed to meet earlier today. She e-mailed to let me know she was running late, and I told her to meet us here. Honestly, I wasn’t eager to spend my short time in Nevada making small talk with her.
But she hasn’t arrived.
Lena Haugeland is expecting me to make a major announcement. Most likely she thinks it’s some Chamber of Commerce thing. I’ll shock her instead.
Coming to Nevada made sense. If I’m going to be in a fake relationship with someone, I have to actually spend time with that person. No one gets into fake long-distance relationships. Well, no one who has graduated high school, at least.
This is the right thing to do. Naturally.
But suddenly Olav’s arguments invade my mind.
Is it possible I was... wrong?
I’m never wrong.
But I have the potential to be. Certainly, my calculus teacher would vehemently agree. My ultimate top score took a ridiculous amount of work.
I’ve avoided criticism. Solberg is thriving, the people are satisfied.
Maybe Anders is moody, but he’s succeeding at school. His favorite subject is chemistry. He got his mind from his mother.
The maître d’ sweeps through our room. “We are exceedingly delighted to have you here, Your Majesty. It is our utmost honor.”
My pulse hammers, and I smile. Kings don’t panic.
