Page 52 of The Christmas Mittens
“I’m done. You do what you feel is best, Father. I’ll not be treated like a leper at my own nephew’s baptism. If Mitchell is not seated with me in our pews tomorrow, I will pack my bags so you’ll not have to gaze on my queer face any longer. The choice is yours.” He looked at his mother. “I’m sorry for ruining your lovely meal, Mother.”
With that, Anders left the dining room, closing the door with great grace. Surely, he would have liked to slam it shut, but he walked out with dignity.
“I think we should go check on Anders,” I said after a moment, standing and pulling Gilda to her shiny new shoes. She didn’t balk or fight leaving. “Thank you for the soup.”
I bowed quickly to the table and led my daughter out into the hallway where she began to cry earnestly.
“Are we leaving already?” she asked between sobs. I pulled her into my arms and just held her as the two security guards stood stoically on either side of a door that might just blow off its hinges given how much yelling was taking place on the other side. The queen, the loudest of all.
“I don’t know, sugar, but let’s go to our rooms and change.”
Dinner was pretty much a done deal.
We were escorted back to our rooms. I took note that Arne stood outside Anders’ doorway down the corridor.
“Would you like me to come in and keep you company?” I asked Gilda but got a shake of her head. “Are you sure? You seemed upset just a few minutes ago.”
“I was, but I think Anders probably needs you to talk to him more. I’m cool. The queen told me I could call the kitchens, and they’d send something up whenever, so I’m like going to get a hot fudge sundae and sort through my packages. Take some selfies. If you do talk to Anders, can you ask him to not leave yet? I know that’s really greedy of me.”
“It’s not greedy at all. I’m sure that Anders knows how much you want to explore Östermon and won’t leave the island already.” She seemed unsure but nodded very maturely, her eyes still bloodshot from her crying jag. “I’ll certainly discuss it with him, but if he does decide to return to the States that’s understandable, huh?” I chucked her chin up gently with my finger.
“Yeah, the king is a real dick,” she whispered. I cough/laughed. There was no arguing that point. King Magnus had been a royal prick. “Go talk to him. I’m tired and need sweets.”
Like mother, like daughter. I kissed her forehead and waited outside her door until she was inside and the lock had clicked. Drawing in a deep breath, I padded down the hall, Arne watching me closely as I neared.
“Is he in there?” I enquired and got a nod. “Can I go in to talk to him?”
“He didn’t say you couldn’t.” With that, he reached back to open the door. I thanked him softly and slipped inside. His suite was richly appointed. Della was sleeping on the bed on a pink duvet just her size. She lifted her head as I came in, gave me a sullen wag, and then rested her chin on her front paws. It’s said that dogs can sense sadness in their humans. I gave her a tiny pat and made my way to the French double doors to see Anders standing out on the patio, snow particles swirling around him, looking every inch a Nordic prince with his chin held high as he stared into the cold winds.
I opened the door, stepped outside, and wished I’d thought to grab a coat. It was freezing out here. Anders pulled his sight from the mountains to gaze at me.
“Have I ruined everything for Gilda?” he asked as he opened his arms for me.
I plastered myself to him, cinching him tight. “No, she’s just confused by the upset. We have a pretty placid house. I’m not sure she has ever seen such a showdown between family members. She’ll be fine. She is worried that you’re going to leave but understands if you do.”
His inhale was huge as was his exhale. “We’re not leaving Östermon. I am taking you and Gilda to our summer house along the southern shore. I can’t reside here knowing how hefeels about me, about us, about our relationship. I will not hide us, and I will not allow Gilda to be exposed to such hateful talk.”
“Okay, that’s fine. As long as I’m with you and Gilda, I’m happy.” I burrowed into his embrace. He rested his brow against mine as we took several long breaths. “Why are you out here in the cold?”
“Ah.” He turned us a little, just enough to see the vague outline of mountains lit by a half-moon of brightest white. “If you climb to the top of Frossard Crag, which is the name of the highest peak in the Östermon Range, you’ll come across a statue of a dragon, brass and weathered with age. It has sat there for hundreds of years, crafted by a metalworker in the capital in homage to the ice dragons of legend. The chest of the dragon is buffed and shiny as every person who scales the peak—and there are hiking trails and a tram so many people visit now—can make a wish as they rub the chest of Cryos. I was just planning a trip up there with you and Gilda before we go south. Then I could rub the mighty frost dragon’s chest and wish for a father who loved me as I am.”
Words failed me, so I simply held him closer as the icy winds railed around us.
ChapterTwenty
Sunday, December 27
I’d never been more nervous to attend a church service in my life.
There was only one Catholic church near Grouse Falls, and I had never set foot in it. Truthfully, I only attended Pastor Pete’s services perhaps four times a year. In all the times I had been to church, I’d never felt like I wanted to pass out, vomit, or run away. Today, I’d felt that way. If not for Anders and Gilda on either side of me as we exited the limo in front of a gorgeous stone cathedral and had to smile and wave at the thousands of Östermonian people waiting outside in the bitter cold, I would have stayed in the car. Totally happy to just knit while the christening took place.
That was not to be, though, and once we were seated up front with the family—me, Anders, and Gilda at the end of the pew behind the king—I relaxed a wee bit. I’d not asked who had bent the king’s arm about two men in a relationship sitting front and center. Perhaps the king had seen the error of his ways. Maybe the queen had laid down the law. Perchance, Frode andhis wife had said this was how things were going to be at their son’s baptism. I doubted I would ever know unless Anders dug into it and that looked to be highly unlikely. Still, even with the disapproval of King Magnus and the priest who performed the ceremony on the squalling new prince Madsen, I’d enjoyed the pomp.
The cathedral was breathtaking, packed with dignitaries that Gilda looked up online, whispering their names into my ear. Kings, queens, princes, princesses, dukes, duchesses, prominent businessmen, and a few well-known actors and singers. Many faces I knew, many I didn’t, as I wasn’t really up on the Who’s Who of famous people. Now, if James Rockford or Jessica Fletcher had sat down behind us, then I would have been in the know. Seated in the second row behind King Magnus and Queen Linnea, I felt highly uncomfortable, even though the queen spent most of her time talking over the back of the pew to Anders, his brothers, and Gilda. Not a word was spoken to her husband. It was like sitting behind an iceberg. The chill flowing off the queen toward her husband made the ten-degree temperature outside feel balmy. Things were not peachy keen in the royal bedchamber.
Frode, his wife, and two people I was not familiar with—Anders whispered that the godparents were the princess’s sister and her husband—beamed with pride as their younger son was purified and welcomed into the church. His full name was read aloud. A long title with lots of regal monikers but to family, he would simply be Madsen.
Afterward, there was a small gathering for friends and dignitaries at the castle. Dressed in our Sunday best, Gilda and I were introduced to statesmen from Denmark, Monaco, Norway, Finland, Great Britain, and the US diplomat. She was quite lovely and assured us that even if some of the royal family was struggling with LGBTQ rights, many were not. The windsof change were blowing, Madame Ambassador insisted. Hearing what I had heard over fish soup last night from the younger royals, I was sure things would change here. Pity it might not happen in time to salvage the relationship between Magnus and Anders.
