‘Can you come in?’ she asked, her gaze looking for the protection officers she knew would be there.
‘If that is okay?’
‘Aleks, come in,’ she said, as if telling him off and welcoming him at the same time. She stood back from the door and he entered her home. She ushered him into a sitting room filled with toys and sofas and pictures and DVDs and books and all the things that seemed so normal he ached.
A little blond boy came running into the room, took one wide-eyed look at him and made to run back out again, before being scooped up by his mother.
‘Dani, this is an old friend of Mummy’s. Say hello,’ she said.
‘Hello,’ came the shy response, and it took a second try for Aleksander to greet Kristine’s son, but he did.
She sent him off to play with his older siblings, before seeming awkward for the first time. ‘Can I get you tea, or coffee?’
‘No, thank you,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘How are you?’
She smiled and gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa, which he did when she took the armchair. ‘Good,’ she said, nodding. ‘I’m good. How areyou?’
‘Is it that obvious?’ he asked ruefully.
‘Only because you’re here.’
He nodded. ‘I have some things I want to say, if that’s okay?’
‘Of course it is, Aleks.’
He twisted his hands, forgetting to stop himself before the sign of his feelings could show. His throat was thick and rough, but his words came out clear. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you had to make that decision. I’m sorry that I didn’t, couldn’t, protect you from that.’
‘Aleks. I don’t blame you. I never did. I thought...’ She trailed off, but he understood.
‘You thought I blamed you?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘I couldn’t,’ he replied quickly. ‘Ever. I understand why you made the decision you did. I just... You should never have been in a position to make that decision—alone. Or, worse, with pressure from my father.’ He could barely bring himself to say the words.
‘Your father made it clear that he would honour any choice I made, and that I would have his support. He is not a bad man, but I know that it must have been difficult growing up with him.’
Relief hit him, so strong that if Aleksander hadn’t been sitting he might have fallen. But his smile was sad. ‘It wasn’t easy, but this helps a little.’ She understood, he could see that. ‘I loved you,’ he said, feeling it even now, but as a faint echo, something similar but in no way close to the other love burning bright in his heart.
‘I know. I felt it. I loved you too. But we were too young. And...’ She paused, as if unsure whether to say her next words or not. ‘And I would never have been your Queen,’ she said sadly.
He shook his head. He understood that too. In some ways, not having a normal ending to their relationship had meant it was stuck in time, leaving him unable to heal and grieve and recover like he might have done otherwise.
‘Who is she?’
His head jerked up to see her gentle affection for him.
‘I imagine,’ Kristine continued, ‘that, whoever it is, she is the one who helped you find your way here.’
This time he smiled. ‘Henna Olin.’
‘I remember her,’ Kristine replied fondly.
‘You do?’ he asked, surprised.
‘Yes, of course. She could never take her eyes off you.’
They caught up for a short while after, talking on the past, on their families, both knowing that this would likely be the last time they would see each other. Aleksander made sure that he left nothing unsaid, and when he returned to the car that would take him back to the Palace he felt as if he was finally ready to face the hardest fight he would ever have.
Because he had no intention of letting Henna go.
She could have used her keys but had chosen to ring the bell, so waited for one of the staff her stepmother employed to answer the door. The maid looked at Henna curiously and asked if she could be of help, clearly not recognising her.