Page 45 of The Christmas Mittens
Nothing but clouds. Okay, this was nice. My stomach wasn’t too queasy this time. Cool. I could fly! Just call me Peter Pan!
I glanced at Gilda, who had her nose pressed to the glass, a look of sheer wonder on her face as we soared higher and higher. It was more than nice. It was lovely. And having Anders’ hand in mine made it even lovelier. If anyone had asked me during the summer if I’d be jetting over the clouds while holding the hand of my princely lover to spend Christmas on an island nation far from home, I would have laughed so hard I’d have wet my pants. Life had a funny way of tossing us on our ear when we least expected it.
***
We flew into Östermonian airspace a little past ten on Christmas Day. The flight had been smooth. The food was outstanding. It was brought to our attention that one of Anders’ favorite foods was a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of sweet pickles. I’d not known that about the man, but when the dish was placed before him for dinner, his pleasure was obvious.
“Oh yes,” Rani had said as we all enjoyed our perfectly toasted cheese sandwiches complete with a nice side of coleslaw, pickles, and a hot cup of coffee for the adults. Gilda had a can of lemon-lime soda. “From the time His Highness was old enough to venture to the royal kitchens, he made a point of telling the headcook that he wished for smørrebrød med smeltet ost, which is roughly what Americans would call a grilled cheese.”
“Our head chef is an older Danish woman who creates the most wonderful dishes. You will love her food,” Anders said as he cracked open his sandwich to slide a fat slice of pickle in between the golden toast. “She prefers to be called Hofkok Margit by all. Even my father addresses her with the honorific of royal chef. So if you meet her, you will know to call her such.”
There were so many people fluttering about the royal house of Östermon. I’d never get them all memorized. Aside from Rani, Arne, and Alfred, who had not made a peep the whole time we had been airborne. I’d peeked back several times to find them either eating, reading, or watching movies on their tablets.
After the meal was done, Anders and Rani began going through his schedule. Seemed his absence from the realm had left many duties unattended. Gilda had dozed off while watching a movie on her phone, with Della on her lap, so I pulled out my knitting. Mittens for pups. They were simple, small, and quick. I could knit as my mind wandered here and there. My lover reached out to pat my knee. Simple but so reassuring.
Anders was always touching me in some small way. At first, it was to help calm my jitters, but as the flight went on, I began to think that while the brush of his elbow or the weight of his knee against mine was incredibly pleasant and calming for me, he may have needed my touch just as much. With every hour passed, he grew a little more formal, a tiny bit firmer. Rebuilding a wall he had torn down with his time away, no doubt. I hoped his family would be gracious. Well, I was sure they would be polite to our faces. Theywereroyalty after all. It was what would be said to Anders when he faced his kin alone that worried me. What would the press say when one of their princes was darting around Raivask with a man in tow? Sure, the world knew he was gay but knowing it in an abstract way and having it right in frontof you could be two highly different things. I hoped this visit would be a good one for him.
I nodded off mid-mitten, coming awake when Anders touched my cheek.
“We’re about to land,” he whispered just as Gilda’s eyes snapped open. We both glanced out the window, but it was too dark to see much other than the white, yellow, red, and green lights on the narrow landing strips below. “You should put your needles away.”
“Sorry, yeah,” I mumbled, doing as asked, and settled back into my plush seat as we banked sharply left. The plane slowed even more. I glanced at Gilda and was gifted with a sleepy but bright smile. We touched down with a thud and a strong lurch.
“We’re home, Your Highness,” Rani sleepily said as he unbuckled.
He was the first one up and already moving, gathering Anders’ carry-on bag and then ours, directing us where to go after the plane stopped. Tired beyond belief but also feeling a surge of nervous energy, we gathered our stuff that had been scattered during the flight and waited. We didn’t wait long. The jet came to a soft rolling stop. Leja moved among us, helping Gilda to unbuckle as Rani began to escort us from the plane. We stopped just briefly to thank the pilot and copilot for the smooth flight before Rani was herding us outside. The blast of frigid air was like a slap in the face after the warmth of the jet. Wind pulled at us as we made our way down another set of metal stairs to a too-large ebony limo with small white flags on each front fender snapping in the wind. A second, smaller black sedan sat idling behind the limo. Arne and Alfred moved around us, always keeping Anders between them.
A middle-aged man in a thick coat bowed courteously to Anders before opening the rear door of the limo.
“Welcome home, Your Highness,” the man said as he replaced his cap onto his bald head while suitcases were loaded into the trunk with quiet efficiency by either airport workers or more personal security.
“Hello, Mikko, you’re looking well. I see that knee surgery went well,” Anders replied, clapping the man in the cap on the shoulder.
“Yes, Your Highness, very well. The extra time off was pleasant, but I was ready to return to work only to find that you had left for America.”
“I found many things to love in the United States,” Anders said with a tender look for me. My cheeks would have gotten hot if they’d not been so darn cold. “We’ll catch up later.”
“Yes, Your Highness, the wind does have a bit of a bite to it.”
With that, Rani nudged me into the back, followed by Anders and then his secretary. Arne slid in to ride with us, his massive shoulders taking up enough space for two children. Gilda sat between Anders and me with Rani cradling a cranky Della. Cranky because he was trying to put tiny rubber booties on her feet, and she was having none of it.
“Is Alfred riding with the driver?” I asked just as the car began to move.
“No, he is behind in a chase car,” Arne replied, easing back into the well-padded seat as best he could and not crowd Rani.
“Generally, this is a light security detail as most of the people of Östermon like us,” Anders explained as Della growled and snapped. “Della, behave.”
The dog’s ears perked at her name, and her lip lowered, but she was not happy about things in this dumb car full of humans.
“Most?” I asked and got a funny glance from Rani.
“There are always small factions that dislike a monarchy for various reasons,” Anders explained. We left the airport behind. What I had seen of Raivask Airport had looked to be a medium-sized airport with several planes coming and going. Nothing on the scale of say JFK or LAX or perhaps Heathrow in London but fairly spacious. Not that I knew much about any airports, but I did know that international ones tended to be massive. “Many of their reasons I disagree with but many I agree with. Still, even though our countrymen—”
“And women,” Gilda chimed in.
“Yes, and women, the last polling showed that nearly sixty-five percent thought the country was being run well and justly,” Anders replied as if by rote, and it probably was. “Which is a steady approval rate. Back when my father took the throne in the late-eighties, our surveys showed a close to eighty-five percent approval rate. But times have changed, and so the decline was not unexpected.”
“We have about a thirty-minute drive, so I thought now would be a good time to go over the protocols for how to speak to the royal family,” Rani smoothly interjected as I battled not to yawn in Anders’ face. When I nodded, he handed Gilda and me notecards with neat handwriting. Anders made a sound that Rani ignored. “When you meet the king and queen, you shall address them as ‘Your Majesty’ with the proper physical shows of respect. A bow for gentlemen and a curtsy for the ladies.”
