Page 74 of Broken Desires
Not now, Alexander, I chastise myself.
“I’m not sure of this dress. Maybe it’s a little too tight and…” She has no time to finish as the door opens, revealing my mother, regal and composed. Her dress tonight is a soft shade of blue and complements her dignified presence, highlighting the wisdom in her eyes—eyes that now regard Nessa with a mixture of curiosity and, I hope, emerging fondness.
She walks toward us, and after a quick kiss to my cheek, she breaches tradition by hugging Nessa.
“Vanessa, what a delight to finally meet you officially. You are positively beautiful tonight.”
Nessa blushes and does an awkward curtsy, earning a tender smile from my mother. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“Please, call me Anita. I’m not here as the former queen of Denmark but as Alexander’s mother meeting his girlfriend.”
Nessa seems to relax a little, and I reach for her hand again. As we all take our seats, the ambience of the room is filled with the soft glow of candles, casting shadows that move across the walls adorned with portraits of my ancestors. The table is set with the finest silverware and crystal, a testament to the palace’s grandeur, yet the atmosphere is surprisingly intimate, almost cozy.
Dinner is served, a culinary masterpiece that bridges traditional Danish cuisine with modern flair, yet the food seems secondary to the conversation that begins to flow more freely as the evening progresses.
“My dear,” my mother begins, turning her attention fully to Nessa, “I must extend my apologies for any distress my words may have caused you. It’s a mother’s instinct to worry, but it was wrong of me to project those fears onto you. You will understand once you two have your own children.”
I have to admit that I like the idea of imagining our children, but I can see by the way Nessa’s eyes widen that my mother freaked her out.
“Mother, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
She waves her hand. “No, of course, but I’m just saying. When you are a mother, sometimes rationality just goes out the window.”
Nessa reads my mother’s lips, her expression a blend of appreciation and understanding. “I get it, truly. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably feel the same. I just want you to know that Alexander’s happiness is my top priority. He means the world to me.”
The sincerity in her voice seems to reach my mother, who nods thoughtfully, a glimmer of approval in her gaze. “I see now that my concerns were misplaced. You have remarkable strength, Vanessa, something you will need as you stand beside my son. I wish for nothing more than your shared happiness.”
The rest of the dinner passes in a blur of laughter and heartfelt exchanges, proving that bridges are being built. When we finally rise from the table, my mother pulls Nessa into another embrace, this time with genuine affection. “Be happy, both of you. You have my blessing,” she whispers, cupping Nessa’s cheek with tenderness.
Back in the safety of my room, Nessa and I share a look, a silent acknowledgment of the evening’s significance. I pull her close, my lips finding hers in a kiss that speaks of relief, love, and a promise of countless tomorrows.
“My mother loves you,” I whisper against her lips, a statement of fact that fills me with indescribable joy. “Of course she does. How could she not? You’re incredible, my beautiful, beautiful love.”
As the night deepens, we give ourselves over to the passion that’s been simmering between us. I make love to her slowly, tenderly, knowing that there will be so many more nights like this one. In these moments of ecstasy, when I get lost in the arms of the woman I adore, I’m reminded that whatever challenges we may face, we’ll face them together, united by a love that defies all odds.
Vanessa is so many things. She’s my chaos, my little witch, my love, my princess, and soon enough, my queen.
Epilogue
Nessa
Six months later
He’s going to kill me, Henrick signs as we get to the car.
I roll my eyes. Why would he? I sign back. Both Henrick and Astrid learned sign language as a birthday present, and I almost cried when they showed me.
Now, he loves signing when people are around.
“I promised him I wouldn’t take too much of your time and I’d have you home by four sharp.” This time, he speaks, he’s still learning the ASL.
Henrick is now looking around for universities for next year. He came to spend time with me today at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, and he chatted with my professor a little longer than planned.
“Don’t worry. Four or four thirty, it’s not the end of the world.” But I can’t help remembering how I noticed that Alexander was quite tense this morning, and I can’t help but wonder what is stressing him.
As soon as we walk through the doors of the palace, Henrick vanishes, and I’m left in the corridor facing Hank.
He and I have a truce now, and dare I say, the man has started to respect me.