Page 62 of Broken Desires
“I wanted to speak to you directly, given your… unique position in the king’s life,” he begins, choosing his words carefully. “King Alexander’s role is one of immense responsibility, not just to the crown but to the country and its people, but he is still very young, and some aspects of this life are still escaping him.”
I quietly listen, aware of the veiled caution in his words.
“We are a monarchy deeply rooted in tradition, and His Majesty’s position is already under scrutiny. People are questioning his youth and the time he spent in the US,” he explains, adding layers to his earlier caution.
“I see…” My response trails off, even though, in truth, I don’t fully grasp where he’s heading with this.
“A monarch’s first duty is to his people and to the legacy he upholds. No monarch can govern effectively if ruled solely by his heart,” Hank continues, his words laden with the weight of centuries-old doctrines.
“What are you not saying, Hank? That I’m all wrong for your king?” The directness of my question seems to catch him off guard. “I can learn. I can become worthy of him.”
He seems taken aback by my forthrightness. “It’s not my place to judge our king’s… personal choices.”
“Yet, it seems like you are,” I can’t help but retort, frustration building inside me.
Hank, unfazed by my challenge, takes out his phone and starts scrolling. “It appears you were quite… friendly with Prince Henrick at the pre-coronation event,” he says, handing me his phone.
I’m taken aback by the photo on the screen—a snapshot of me and Henrick laughing, my hand casually resting on his shoulder. “There’s nothing going on between Henrick and me. I’m in love with Alexander.” Titles be damned at this point.
Surprisingly, Hank’s expression softens into something resembling sadness rather than annoyance. “I believe you, and that’s exactly why I’m here,” he admits, gesturing toward the phone. “Please, read the article.”
The headline of the article he points to is ominous: “Prince Henrick, the wayward prince, strikes again.”
Reading through the article, I can’t hide my shock. The accusations, the blatant assumptions, and the outright lies—it’s overwhelming. Henrick, the wayward prince, and now me, implicated as his American fling with a supposedly dubious past? How do they even know about my criminal record?
I glance at Hank, searching for some hint of how to navigate this. “How could they spin this story so quickly?”
Hank meets my gaze, his expression grim. “This is the reality for the Danish royal family. The press is relentless. They unearth what they deem newsworthy, regardless of the truth.”
As I read further, seeing the speculation about Henrick’s actions as a mark against the new king, my heart tightens—not just for Henrick, but for Alexander too. Hank’s visit, I realize, is more than a courtesy; it’s a warning. The media’s reaction to a simple interaction with Henrick hints at a larger storm brewing on the horizon should my relationship with Alexander come to light.
Handing Hank’s phone back, I digest the implications. “I see your point,” I admit, the reality of our situation settling in. “This complicates things.”
Hank nods, his demeanor still formal yet tinged with a hint of empathy. “Indeed, Miss Caldwell. Associating closely with His Majesty comes with its own set of challenges and public scrutiny.”
“What do you want me to do?” The question escapes me, a plea for some form of guidance amid the turmoil.
Hank maintains his composure, his face smooth yet carrying a note of caution. “It’s not my place to dictate your actions, Miss Caldwell. My intention is merely to present you with the full picture. His Majesty tends to lead with his heart, sometimes overlooking the potential fallout. It’s clear you care deeply for him, and naturally, you desire what’s best for his future.”
His words lay bare the unspoken truth, echoing the fear gnawing at me. “So my being in his life complicates things for him.”
“Quite,” he confirms.
I nod. The joy of Alexander’s request for me to stay is overshadowed by the potential upheaval it could bring. My decision to stay, to be a part of Alexander’s life, has now another dimension—his own well-being, his legacy, his… well, him.
We walk a bit more, and the reality of Alexander’s request to stay hits differently now. It’s not just about us being together; it’s about what’s best for him, his role, his duty.
“I get the importance of his position and the kind of attention it brings. I wouldn’t want to make things harder for him,” I find myself saying, feeling some sadness.
Hank nods, seeming to appreciate my understanding. “It’s good to hear you say that. We all need to play our part in keeping the crown’s image intact.”
Soon, we stop by this grand door, surrounded by portraits of what must be Alexander’s ancestors. Hank signals that this is where I’ll find Alexander, but before I can knock, my attention is caught by a small window next to the door. Through it, I see Alexander’s mom standing in the library, giving me a good look at her face as she’s talking with him. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I pause, watching her. This moment, sneaking a peek into her world, kinda cements how big this all is—not just Alexander and me, but everything his life entails.
Chapter 21
Alexander
The lack of response from Nessa weighs heavily on me. I understand the magnitude of what I’ve asked of her—to uproot her life and step into mine, a world that’s not just filled with love but also with obligation and scrutiny. It’s a lot for anyone to take in, let alone make a snap decision about.