Page 12 of Defying the Crown
I knew his secret, carried it like a precious stone in my pocket. The weight of it grew heavier each time I watched him force himself into the mold his father demanded. But this moment – this unguarded flash of genuine happiness – made me wonder what had finally managed to crack through his walls.
The meeting dragged on, but Harald's fingers kept straying to his phone, typing what looked like a longer message. His eyes held a warmth I hadn't seen since before his last anxiety attack, and despite the bittersweet ache in my chest, I found myself hoping that whatever – or whoever – had caused this change might help him find his way back to himself.
The meeting finally adjourned, and I watched as Harald practically leapt from his chair, his long strides carrying him out of the room before anyone else had even gathered their papers. I took my time, nodding politely to the coalition partners and the Prime Minister as they filed out. My mind was still back in that moment, replaying the way Harald's face had lit up at whatever message he'd received.
I made my way back to the office given to representatives of the Crown in the government buildings, my steps measured and unhurried. I knew I'd find him there, probably already engrossed in his phone. The thought made my heart clench in a familiar way, a mixture of fondness and resignation.
As I pushed open the door, I caught a glimpse of Harald's profile, his head bent over his phone as he typed furiously. The intensity of his focus was almost palpable, and I had to take a steadying breath before I could trust my voice.
"Anything interesting?" I asked, aiming for casual as I settled into my own chair across from him.
Harald's head snapped up, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes before he schooled his features into a neutral expression. "Just catching up on some messages," he said, his tone carefully even.
I nodded, pretending to shuffle through the papers on my desk. "Of course." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I swallowed them down. It wasn't my place to pry, no matter how much I longed to be the one he confided in.
As the afternoon wore on, I found my gaze drawn to him again and again. The way his fingers danced across the screen of his phone, the slight curve of his lips as he read something that pleased him. Each stolen glance was a tiny knife in my heart, a reminder of the feelings I could never voice.
I loved him. I had loved him for years, through every triumph and every struggle. But I knew, with a certainty that settled like lead in my stomach, that my love would always be unrequited. Harald was destined for greatness, for a life that had no room for a loyal secretary with a foolish heart.
So I sat, and I watched, and I ached. And I promised myself, as I had a thousand times before, that I would be content with this. With being by his side, even if I could never truly be with him. It was enough, I told myself. It had to be enough.
Harald
The comforting aroma of Ella's homemade Frikadeller meatballs wafted through the dining room as I entered, the warmth of the candlelight softening the room's grand edges. Ella bustled about, her blonde hair swishing as she set out steaming plates.
"There you are, big brother," she teased, her blue eyes sparkling. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost on your way from your royal chambers."
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. "Very funny, Ells. You know I'd never miss your cooking, even if affairs of state tried to get in the way."
She grinned, pulling out a chair for me with an exaggerated flourish. "Well then, Your Highness, please take a seat. Dinner is served."
I settled into the proffered chair, breathing in the comforting scent of the meatballs and potatoes. It smelled like home, like the rare happy memories of childhood when Mother would cook this same meal.
Ella took the seat across from me, passing the basket of bread. "So, how go the trials and tribulations of princedom today? Slay any dragons? Rescue any damsels?"
"Ha, I wish." I tore off a hunk of bread, staring at it. "No, just the usual - disappointing Father, as per usual."
Her smile faded and she reached across to squeeze my hand. "Harald, you could never be a disappointment. Father just doesn't see all that you are."
I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "I don't know, Ells. Sometimes I wonder if he's right about me. If I'm really cut out for this whole heir apparent thing."
"Well I have no doubt." Her voice was fierce, eyes flashing. "You, big brother, are going to make an incredible king one day. Never forget that."
I shook my head, pushing the meatballs around my plate. "It's not just about being king, Ella. It's about being me. The real me."
She tilted her head, studying me with those perceptive blue eyes that always seemed to see right through me. "What do you mean, Harald?"
I took a shaky breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I'm gay, Ells. And Father...he'll never accept that. I can never be who I truly am, not with the throne hanging over my head."
To my surprise, Ella just smiled softly, not a hint of shock or judgement on her face. "Oh, Harald. I know. I've always known."
My jaw dropped. "You...you have? But how?"
She laughed lightly. "Call it sisterly intuition. Also you don't do a good job of deleting your web browsing history. And for the record, I love you all the more for it. It's a part of what makes you, you."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and I blinked them back. "But Father-"
"Father's opinions on the matter don't concern me," she cut in, her voice unwavering. "Or anyone else for that matter. The people would love you for your truth, Harald. They'd respect you all the more for living authentically."
