A/N: I guess you can say I'm starting the downhill run towards winding up my long series of Fantasy Island tales. I've seen that gradually I've focused more and more on my own characters, and to me that's a signal...so I'll begin wrapping up loose ends, using up a few story ideas that are still lying around, and bringing it all to a conclusion. But I don't intend to stop writing about my own characters; their adventures will continue over on FictionPress (my alias on that site is in my profile). Thanks as always to my readers and especially the ones who review on a regular basis; I've always deeply appreciated your feedback and your enthusiasm! So, onward...
§ § § - December 18, 2008
The jet landed at Sundborg early on a Friday morning with snow flurries swirling in the air; Christian and Leslie, both of whom had only just fallen asleep after having to soothe one or another of the restless triplets almost throughout the journey, were rudely awakened by the somewhat bumpy touchdown and both groaned. "Tell me again why we didn't just send Magga home alone," Christian grumbled, scowling.
"Because you wanted to speak to Carl Johan about some kind of commendation for Rogan and Marina," Leslie reminded him. "You could've e-mailed him, you know, but you said something about wanting to be in the country for this year's Christmas ball."
"Because violsdansen is to be in memory of Briella this year as well as Mother," said Christian, hiking an eyebrow at her. "Are you sure you can do the steps?"
"Of course not," she said, and he grinned. "Well, come on...maybe we can get some sleep at the castle, if they let us."
Margareta had been listening in from across the aisle in their first-class seats, and leaned over to say smugly, "I doubt it. I get to go home to Gudrun till this afternoon, but I know you two will never be left to your own devices. Roald and Rudolf will be around asking your advice, and Uncle Carl Johan, Uncle Esbjörn, Aunt Amalia and Aunt Anna-Laura will all want the story of the serum trial. And I'm sure they'll be asking you if you have any reply to all those media vultures who want you to move back here." She sobered and studied them. "Did you ever talk about that?"
"No, we never managed to discuss it," Leslie admitted, yawning. "I'd like to think the family will have a little pity on us when they hear the triplets refused to allow us to sleep on the entire three-section trip here."
"Odd, they didn't bother me," Margareta remarked airily, earning dirty looks from her aunt and uncle that made her laugh. "All right, I apologize. I do hope Gudrun's here—I can't wait to go home and be with her. Maybe we'll give the rest of my amakarna supply to Stina, poor thing, now that she's the only one who needs it."
"She's likely to be around asking about the trial," Christian noted, peering at his niece, "although I warn you, it'll be you she asks, not us. Wake up, Karina, we're here."
Karina rubbed her eyes and whined, "I want to go back home."
"Not bloody likely," Christian said, exasperated enough to let it show. "Tobias, Susanna, get up—we've landed."
Margareta had been right about her wife being there to meet her; Christian and Leslie watched them hug each other hard, then hurry away toward the baggage claim hand in hand, with Gudrun asking Margareta a barrage of questions. They looked at each other, shrugged at exactly the same moment, then traded tired grins and began to herd the cranky children along ahead of them, with Ingrid faithfully trailing them toting the children's carry-on bags. All the way to the baggage claim, Christian and Leslie had to scold the kids for slapping each other or calling each other names; they got more than a few sympathetic looks from passersby, and as luck would have it, they ran across a photographer for Sundborgs Nyheter, the city paper, who reeled off a number of photos on his Leica that Leslie grumpily remarked were likely to show the triplets in the worst possible light. "And they want us to move back here," snorted Christian, which made her laugh.
Fortunately, there was a castle limousine awaiting them; its driver had already collected their bags from the luggage carousel and bowed to them when they headed in his direction. "Your Highnesses, welcome back to Lilla Jordsö. There's still one bag I'm waiting to collect—Princess Karina's, if I recall correctly."
Instantly Karina began to cry. "I want my suitcase!" she wailed.
"Karina Skye, stop it," Leslie snapped low, but the child simply cried more loudly.
"Crybaby," taunted Susanna in English.
"Susanna Shannon, what have we been telling all three of you ever since we got off the plane?" Christian demanded. "Enough is enough! Do you hear me?"
"I didn't say anything," protested Tobias.
"And don't start, either," his father warned him. The driver looked on with a grin, which he promptly erased when he realized both Christian and Leslie had seen it; he cleared his throat loudly and turned back to the carousel to watch for Karina's suitcase, while Christian and Leslie glanced at each other with resigned smiles.
Fortunately, the missing bag arrived within another couple of minutes, and they were soon on their way to the castle, a twenty-five-minute trip from the airport, which was located on the eastern edge of the capital city. Karina huddled against Leslie and went back to sleep; Susanna and Tobias kept sniping at each other with one or another insulting name till Christian and Leslie were ready to put gags on both children. When the car rolled to a halt under the castle portico, Karina awoke grouchier than ever and refused to walk into the great entry under her own steam, so that in the end Leslie was forced to carry her inside. This was the scene that met Carl Johan, Amalia, Anna-Laura and Esbjörn when they emerged from the east corridor to greet the new arrivals. "Aja då, det blir Knariga Knut, tre gånger över," said Anna-Laura with a teasing grin at her brother and sister-in-law.
Christian glared at her; Leslie couldn't help it and let out a laugh. Anna-Laura had referred to a grouchy character on Karina's favorite TV show, Katrina Kattunga. "Three times over is right," Leslie agreed with another yawn.
"Were they like this the entire trip?" Amalia asked.
"Yes—one or another at different times," Christian said, "which meant that at least one of them was giving us grief every moment from the time we boarded the charter plane on Fantasy Island till we landed here in Sundborg. I remember hearing the pilot announce that we were on final approach to the airport, and the next thing I knew we were on the ground and halfway to the gate. It was the only sleep I got in a full eighteen hours' worth of flights and another three of layovers."
His siblings and in-laws looked at one another. "I suppose that means you want to sleep the day away," Carl Johan said.
"I know we shouldn't," Christian admitted reluctantly. "Believe me, I want to. But it's morning here, and if we do sleep now, we'll be awake all night."
"But a couple of hours' nap might refresh us," Leslie said hopefully. "Tobias and Susanna need to burn some energy, I think, but Karina kept having trouble with her ears all the way over, and she didn't sleep much either."
"Then we might see you at lunch," Esbjörn said with a smile, shaking hands with Christian and then Leslie. As Anna-Laura and Amalia took their turns hugging them, Carl Johan ruffled Tobias' hair before hugging his brother in welcome.
"We finally had the blackout curtains installed in your suite," he told Christian, "so that may help if you need it. When you wake up and you feel ready, just come to Amalia's and my suite, and we can discuss all the press conferences the media is demanding of us, as well as the Christmas ball."
Christian and Leslie did feel much better after what turned out to be three hours of nap time and a tasty lunch of one of Lilla Jordsö's signature dishes, a specialized mutton stew called fårköttsmallan av Lanningsen. The triplets were in their cousin Lisi's rooms, playing with her and their other cousins—Roald and Adriana's Staffan, and Rudolf and Louisa's Katta—under the supervision of a servant; the adults had gathered in Carl Johan and Amalia's suite. For a while their conversation consisted of light banter, catching up on one another's latest activities and the antics of the younger children, asking how long Christian and Leslie planned to stay, and speculating about the likelihood of a white Christmas.
After these topics had been exhausted, Christian finally broached something that had clearly been on his mind for a while. "So what's Kristina's prognosis?"
"No change," said Carl Johan, looking permanently tired. "Anna-Kristina has been here with Natalia every single day, spending time with her, but we can all see that her chances of recovery are very small. And if she eventually passes, the effect on Anna-Kristina will be devastating."
"What's Anna-Kristina's stance on the amakarna serum?" asked Christian.
"She won't discuss it," said Esbjörn. "Perhaps, with you two here and Margareta home, she'll change her mind about that, but for now it's taboo as far as she's concerned. If you don't mind, Christian, I have a question—what do you and Leslie think of those articles hinting that you two should return here permanently to live?"
"Very little," said Leslie dryly, and low laughter greeted that. "We haven't even been able to talk about it in private, let alone tell off some of these vultures. It's not as if it's any of their business anyway. Are you saying you think that'll come up in press conferences?"
Anna-Laura said ruefully, "I'm afraid it's just about guaranteed. We've followed your lead and ignored that particular topic, but that doesn't stop it from popping up again and again. I think they're simply rattled by all the changes in the years since you two were married, but something tells me that if it hadn't been for the way Briella died, this wouldn't have come up. Now they want things to go back a little to the way they once were."
"As if our simply returning here to live would restore us to the days when Father had the throne and Mother was alive," grunted Christian, rolling his eyes. "That's what it would have to take for things to be what they call 'normal'. I admit to wondering whether our asserting a collective right to live life like anyone else is what's setting them off."
"I have a question," Leslie spoke up then, catching their attention. "Has anyone else been mentioned in this article, or are they focusing only on Christian and me?"
This met with an uncomfortable silence; Christian leaned forward slightly, taking in his family's uneasy looks, before remarking with deceptive calm, "That's an excellent question, my Rose. I expect it probably has an equally excellent answer—it's just you and I, and that merely because I don't live in this country any longer."
"That was my thought too," she said, and he smiled a little, wrapping an arm around her as he always seemed to do whenever they sat together.
"All right," Anna-Laura said, rising, "since you seem so certain, let me get the original newspaper editorial so you two can see exactly what the uproar's about." She left the suite; Rudolf watched her go, while Roald and Adriana looked at each other.
"Why should it be a crime for a royal to live in another country?" Adriana asked into the charged silence. "Look, I have done it. Many others have done it before me." Her jordiska was freighted with an almost crippling Arcolosian accent, but she spoke slowly and tried to make her words as clear and distinct as possible. "There should be no worry about it."
The Enstads looked around at one another; Roald essayed a sheepish grin when his cousin Rudolf rolled his eyes at him. "You know that's not the same thing, Adriana," Rudolf explained. "You came here from one royal family to marry into another. Uncle Christian left the country to get married, and stayed in her country, when normally Aunt Leslie would have come here to live with him—even if he had his own home outside the castle, which he did for many years before he even met her. Uncle Christian blazed a lot of trails, but I guess too much has happened and some people feel too many lines have been crossed."
"The idea is that the royal family is representative of their country," Carl Johan explained further. "To have a member depart that country is unheard of, unless they marry into another royal family. Since this didn't happen in Christian's case, it made quite a lot of news. To be honest, Christian has been making headlines probably since the day he was born—more so once he was old enough to stand up for himself against Father and Arnulf."
"Was any of that ever actually made public, though?" Leslie wondered, glancing at her husband before turning to the others. "I mean, has it ever been common knowledge that Sire and Arnulf were always at odds with Christian?"
"I wouldn't guess so," said Esbjörn slowly. "Not at least until after Sire died and Arnulf took over the throne, and even then not till the news came out that he had enforced the LiSciola amakarna contract by marrying Christian off. It was the idea of an arranged marriage, in this modern day and age, that probably cracked the façade once and for all; it was clear enough from Arnulf's press conference that Christian was extremely unhappy with the situation, and since he was always the people's favorite, well...you can guess what kind of reaction came from it."
Anna-Laura came back in during this speech and handed Christian a newspaper section, folded so that the article in question showed. "Well, ungstebror, it just seems to me that you got away with a lot through your life up till now, and at least a few people have apparently reached their limit and want their prince and his family back."
Christian threw her a look of incredulity, then began to read the piece, while Leslie looked at it over his shoulder, plowing her way through the article at a much slower pace. She was less than half finished when Christian got done; seeing she was still going over it, he handed her the paper and shook his head. "I suppose we're going to have to address this ridiculous issue as long as we're here," he said through a sigh.
"Then you'd better think of something to say," Anna-Laura warned him, "even if you tell them only that it's not their business and it's entirely up to you and Leslie."
"Thank you for that little sound bite," Christian retorted with a raised brow, and she chuckled. "All right, all right. So do we have to put up with these things before or after the Christmas ball? I should note here that Ingrid has volunteered to watch all the children, but once we return to Fantasy Island, she's remaining behind. She wants to marry her fiancé and begin her own life, and she's certainly entitled."
"And we have something in mind for them," Leslie said. "Which means there's a shopping trip in my future. Anyone want to go with me?" The other women agreed, and for the time being the conversation lightened again.
§ § § - December 19, 2008
Christian ended up going into Sundborg with the women the following day, since he wanted to drop in at his original office there; the castle driver let him off there first before taking Leslie and the other women into the city. Amalia, Anna-Laura, Adriana and Louisa were all looking forward to helping Leslie choose a wedding gift for Ingrid and her fiancé; at one point, browsing through a very upscale department store's home section, Amalia asked, "Do you think it will be a very big adjustment, getting along without Ingrid?"
"I don't doubt it," Leslie admitted with a rueful smile. "The kids are probably going to set up an awful fuss when they realize she's not coming home with us, but by the time I give birth, they'll be close to their fifth birthdays and they can help with the new baby. Plus, they can all dress themselves—if not necessarily in coordinated outfits—" This got a giggle from Amalia. "—and they can feed themselves and clean up after themselves, with some prodding. Most importantly, they're toilet-trained." This time she joined in Amalia's laughter. "My doctor assures me there's only one baby this time, so I think things will be easier."
"I noticed you two slept late," Anna-Laura interjected then, overhearing the last of the exchange. "You went to bed so early, we thought you'd be up much sooner."
"Oh, well...we just hashed out a few things we might say when the press confronts us about returning to live here," Leslie said with a diffident shrug. "We never reached a solid conclusion, but since it's all theoretical anyway, that's the best we can do. If the media don't like it, then that's just tough cookies for them, as my sister Kelly used to say."
"Well, I'm glad you two came up with something at least. The first press conference is scheduled for tomorrow morning at eleven, and then we're to have a magazine interview in the afternoon. And I had word this morning from the castle secretary: the author of that op-ed piece I showed you and Christian last night is looking to have an exclusive interview with you two as well, undoubtedly trying to get to the bottom of the question of your coming here to live. She wanted to know whether she should schedule something or refuse him. I told her to turn him down, because I knew Christian wouldn't tolerate that kind of concentrated interrogation. I'm certain he wouldn't like it anyway, but that particular topic clearly annoys him."
"Aunt Leslie...what do you think of this?" broke in Adriana just then, hefting into the air a package of genuine silk sheets in an eggshell color. "Do you suppose your Ingrid and her man will like these?"
Louisa looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Adriana, I told you that's probably way too intimate a gift."
Leslie giggled from sheer surprise, staring at the sheets. "Wow. I think Louisa's right, that's kind of...um, over the top. I was thinking more in the line of some kitchen gadget they could really use but might not be able to afford."
"An espresso machine," Adriana said immediately.
"I'd say a food processor," ventured Louisa.
Leslie exchanged looks with her grinning sisters-in-law. "Why are we even here? I think I should've sent Louisa to get the present," she said, and they all laughed. "That's a great idea, Louisa. See if you can find one that has a few bells and whistles. Adriana, you can help her with that." Both younger women nodded and struck off for another section of the store; Leslie watched them go, glanced around her and shook her head. "It amazes me how people don't accost us in here."
"I've meant to discuss that with Christian," Anna-Laura said. "He rants frequently about a lack of privacy, but in fact we don't have the kind of problems with people that he thinks we do. It's really only the media, and except for no one's favorite correspondent Hilda Ödegård, they're pretty respectful. And they all have to go through the castle secretary now and make their requests for access to us, according to new rules that Carl Johan set out. He's been working like a slave to correct discrepancies that have bothered him ever since Father started developing dementia."
"Wise move," Leslie said, nodding. "Christian should definitely know about that. So are we going anywhere else, or is this it?"
"I suspect you're going to want to shop for a few new clothing items," Amalia told her with a wink. "You'll need something for the Christmas ball, after all, and I can remember seeing a lovely winter outfit at Ellströms that I think would suit you perfectly. As soon as Louisa and Adriana find what you're looking for, I suggest that be our next stop."
At Ellström Brothers, the exclusive clothier in Sundborg, both Leslie and Louisa were fitted for new gowns for the Christmas ball; Adriana, who had brought an extensive wardrobe with her from Arcolos, was content to watch. Amalia and Anna-Laura decided to look for something new as well, so that the women were at the store for some three hours, looking at designs, colors, patterns and styles. While Leslie's gown—a long-sleeved robin's-egg blue creation with darker blue trim and accented at the sleeve cuffs and along the collar with gold buttonlike studs set with rainbow gems—was being altered and Anna-Laura was choosing hers, Amalia took Leslie in hand and brought her to another section of the store where she showed her the winter outfit she had had in mind. "This will look so right on you," she predicted, showing Leslie the hunter-green dress whose skirt fell to just below the knees, with its matching jacket and a cape trimmed with faux rabbit fur. There was even a muff to go with it. "It's made of native jordisk wool," Amalia explained, "and all you need is a pair of boots to complete the outfit. Christian will be dazzled by you in this."
"Wow," murmured Leslie, impressed. She had to admit to herself that she found it fun, if sometimes tedious, to do occasional clothes shopping whenever she and Christian were in Lilla Jordsö; Fantasy Island had the same climate year-round, and they tended to wear the same types of clothing all the time. "I like that a lot. You have good taste, Amalia."
"My mother was a seamstress," Amalia revealed, catching Leslie's surprised attention. "She always had an eye for what was flattering and what colors and fabrics would make the best, yet most practical and useful, clothing. I inherited some of her eye for that. I can see that this will really flatter you, with its color and styling. Let's see if they can alter this to fit you perfectly, and we'll find the right boots to go with it."
Leslie giggled. "It's lucky Christian isn't here. You know how scornful he gets when it comes to clotheshorses. I mean, I'm not like that, but sometimes it's fun to find something new and pretty to wear."
"Exactly so," Amalia said, grinning. She hailed a nearby store employee, and in a few minutes they had arranged to have the woolen dress-and-jacket set fitted and altered where necessary and had started to look for boots to complete the outfit.
By the time the women were nearly ready to leave the store, Leslie had run out of energy and some of her enthusiasm, and was feeling sleepy, thanks to her pregnancy. She was watching Anna-Laura model the final version of her ballgown for them when Christian appeared unexpectedly, glancing at each face till he spotted his wife. He grinned at sight of her. "Well, my Rose, are you overdue for your nap?"
She grinned gamely, and the other women laughed. "What are you doing here, in this bastion of women playing with clothes?" Anna-Laura teased him.
"I took a taxi over," he said, shrugging, "My business was finished and I had begun to wonder what was taking so long. Did you manage to find something for Ingrid?"
"Louisa and Adriana discovered a really nice food processor," Leslie told him through a yawn. "I thought that'd be the perfect gift, considering all the cooking she's done for us." She tossed a glance off to her right. "It was actually Louisa's idea. It was perfect."
Christian focused on a blushing but grinning Louisa, and said, "Well, good for you—maybe we'll ask you to do all our gift shopping for us from now on." Louisa laughed, and he grinned back and settled in a chair beside Leslie. "So why is it taking so long?"
"Most of us got new gowns for the ball," Amalia said, standing nearby with an eye on Anna-Laura. "And Leslie has a second new outfit that she can model for you tomorrow, per-haps. Or if not...well, we have tickets to a performance of Mamma Mia! for next Wednesday, and maybe you'd like to go with us and Leslie can wear it then."
"Mamma Mia!, really?" Leslie exclaimed, excited out of her encroaching drowsiness. "I always wanted to see that! What do you think, my love?"
"I hope you can stay awake for the whole thing," Christian joshed her, and they all laughed at the punch she gave him in the bicep. Fortunately, soon Anna-Laura was deemed ready to leave, and the group arranged for payment for their new clothing and settled into the castle limo for the drive back.