Sven
We are late for dinner. Not for any lustful reason, or because we fell asleep. . . no, we are late because my beautiful, maddening elske had to be convinced—repeatedly-that Mamma was not going to think less of her if she did not come to dinner in a formal gown. She finally agrees to a skirt and blouse, and we head downstairs. Fortunately, the others are just sitting down, and Romelle and I take our seats with no comment from Mamma.
Dinner is quiet, as Mamma prefers, with just light comments on incidental things in the news. As soon as the last of the dishes are cleared, though, she begins the interrogation. "Now, Erik Sven. Tell me—slowly and from the beginning—exactly how you came to meet Romelle, and how it is you are engaged to her vhen never have I heard you mention her name." She has the no-nonsense look on her face that has never failed to make me tell her any and everything, even if I had forgotten it.
Romelle slips her hand into mine as I take a breath and start to tell Mamma of the bar, of taking Romelle home, then of finding out just who Romelle was and what she was running from. The little hand I hold is trembling by the time I finish; Mamma is wearing her diplomatic face that reveals nothing. She starts to say something in Norwegian, but I cut her off. "English, Mamma. I vill not exclude Romelle from this conversation."
Mamma's eyes widen briefly, but she nods and continues in English, "I understand the situation, and can certainly appreciate the urgency, but. . .Erik, are you certain? There are other ways to protect the princess than tying yourself to a complete stranger for the rest of your life."
I know what Romelle must be thinking, and slip my arm around her reassuringly. "Romelle is no stranger, Mamma. I. . . I know dis sounds crazy, but. . . I feel as though I haf known her all my life. I love her, I VANT to marry her."
"So your vater told MY vater, vhen he asked for my hand two days after meeting me." Mamma's soft smile surprises me as much as her words do. "As your grandvater did before him. Holgersson men are very good at knowing their soulmates as soon as they meet them." She turns to Romelle. "I vould like nothing better than to give you a big, fancy wedding, but. . . that probably vould not be prudent. Vill you grant me the honor of wearing my wedding dress to marry my son?"
Romelle
Did I hear correctly? Sven's mother wants to give me her own wedding dress, as though she likes me? A hundred questions run through my mind; unfortunately what comes out is, "His name is Sven; why do you call him Erik all the time?" Oh, goddess, did I actually say that out loud? Anna's raised eyebrow and the snickers from Keith and Lance tell me I did. I don't dare look at Sven; what must he think of me? Stupid, stupid, Romelle!
Sven's hand shakes in mine, letting me know he's laughing as much as his friends are; a quick peek at him reassures me that he is not angry with me. "Mamma calls me Erik because my vater vas Sven, elske. But vhen I vent to de Academy, dere vere four oder Eriks in my class. So, I started going by Sven." He shrugs and kisses my cheek. "I just do not argue vit Mamma."
"Vise boy," Anna says serenely, reaching over to pat his shoulder. "So, Romelle. Vhat do you say to my offer? I really think ve should do this vedding as soon as possible. I can protect you, but you're even safer as Sven's wife. I can issue the marriage license myself, and I know our parish priest would happily come over as soon as we ask."
I blink at her, then Sven and the boys, overwhelmed. Two days ago, I was little more than unwanted baggage, abused by my father and Avok, disposed of as they saw fit. And now. . . .now I have these four wonderful people, risking everything to help me. And one of them. . .Goddess, how he loves me, and I love him. And I'm crying again, like a little idiot! Sven lifts me from my chair to his lap, his arms holding me close as he whispers soothingly in his native language. A hand that can only be Lance's squeezes mine gently, and I gradually manage to calm myself down. "I. . I'm sorry. I'm not usually such a mess." I wipe my eyes on the handkerchief Sven offers, managing not to look at him. "I don't know why I'm so out of control."
"Because you feel safe now, and you're loved," Lance says gently, and the others murmur in agreement. "Now, go wash your face, sweetheart, and let's plan us a wedding, huh?" He kisses my cheek; Sven gives me a proper kiss, and Anna directs me to the powder room. When I return, face duly washed, Anna takes charge. Sven is sent to get Father Anders, and Keith and Lance are dispatched to get some flowers and arrange what Anna calls the parlor. I watch Sven go uncertainly; I still don't like being away from him, but things need to get done.
Fifteen minutes later, I'm soaking in Anna's tub, up to my neck in bubbles. She's waiting in her bedroom with the most gorgeous gown I've ever seen, simple jewels to go with it, and a promise to do my hair. I could stay in here forever, but Sven is waiting, so I get out, put on the lacy underthings he bought me, and walk out to Anna. She smiles softly at me and holds out the dress. "You will be a beautiful bride for my Erik," she says as I step into the modest, floor length, cream lace dress and let her pull it up. Once it's buttoned up, she sits me at her vanity and starts working on my hair. "Be good to him, Princess; he is a good man, and I can tell he loves you dearly."
"I love him too," I whisper, and then Anna turns the conversation to what she's doing to my hair and face.
Sven
It didn't take long to get the things Mamma wanted and set the parlor up. Now, I'm waiting in front of Father Anders for her to bring Romelle down, Keith and Lance on either side of me, all three of us in our dress uniforms. We're quietly talking when I hear a noise behind me, and turn to see. . . min gud i himmeln. . I thought Romelle was beautiful when I first saw her; now, though, she's an absolute goddess of light, floating to me with a dreamy smile on her face. I'm lightheaded just looking at her. . .
"Breathe, min bror," Lance whispers, clearly amused, and I realize it isn't just Romelle making me lightheaded. He'll milk this for ages, I know he will, but right now I don't care. Min kjaereste is standing before me, waiting.
"You look amazing, elske," I have time to whisper, with a quick kiss, then we turn to face Father Anders. He beams at us, then starts the wedding ceremony. Ten minutes later, I'm kissing the new Mrs. Holgersson. "Mine forever," I breathe against her lips. "I love you."
"I love you too, Sven," she whispers back, then Mamma and the guys gather around offering congratulations.
We're opening champagne when one of Mamma's aides comes in with a datapad, whispering to her urgently. She takes the pad and reads its message, then looks at us grimly. "It seems ve did this vedding just in time. Your Onkel Michael sends vord that King Cova and Prince Avok have learned that Romelle is with you, Erik. They've left New Francisco, he suspects they are coming here."