“I don’t care who he was,” Johan said. “He looked like he was going to hurt you.”
Lukas wiped his mouth and stood. “Well, thank goodness you saved the day. But since you are always thinking of appearances, you have to know that the referendum voters aren’t going to look kindly on this. Oh well.”
He left, flanked by two security guards.
“It’s okay, Phoko,” Nya said because she couldn’t say anything else. There was something between the brothers that they needed to work out themselves, and maybe something more than a misunderstanding.
Johan was still quiet.
“Are you hungry?” She reached toward the table with one hand and lifted a waffle, making it dance enticingly in front of his face.
Finally, the hardness left his face and he smiled. Shook his head.
“You’re really okay?” he asked.
“I’m not the one punching things. I’m guessing your hand isn’t feeling too hot right now.”
He sighed heavily, brushing his hair back from his face, twisting it around his finger as he did. “I’ve made a mess again.”
Well, Nya couldn’t deny that but she couldn’t exactly hold it against him. The man had frightened her. If he’d had a weapon other than gross assumption, things could have turned out much differently. “I think you should call Greta and cancel this morning’s events. Let’s go somewhere.”
“Where?”
“A place where none of this matters. There will be trouble whether you address it now or this evening, right?”
“Right.”
“So. Let’s go.”
Chapter 18
@OlafJungstrum Is this the face Liechtienbourg wants to present to the world? Brawling von Brausteins?
@oodlesofstreudel Come on, I mean. It was kind of hot, non? He was defending his people.
@Sneks Defending against what? Arschlocher said he was just trying to have a conversation and got punched out of nowhere. Shouldn’t civility be of prime importance?
@JoJoStanAccount Liechtienbourgers love talking about how they’re from warrior stock but look at this reaction. I don’t like violence, but remember that time some dude broke into the castle to hug the queen? Johan is probably traumatized.
@OlafJungstrum We’ll see what the citizens think of this at the polls, I guess.
I thought you would have a nicer car,” Nya said as his old Vauxhall crossed the bridge into the idyllic farming village of Schweinsteiger. Johan hadn’t traveled to the farther reaches of the kingdom in a few months, but during the drive he’d realized that his love of fairy tales had surely been influenced by the backdrop of his youth. In the summer, the forest would be lush and verdant, but now the trees and small stone houses were nestled in drifts of snow, resembling a frosted ice kingdom.
“Are you making fun of my car?” Johan asked, caressing the leather dash. “Don’t listen to her, Hansel.”
“No! Just, in the magazines they always show you driving BMWs and fancy things. This feels more like you, though.”
He glanced in the rearview, where two bodyguards followed in an SUV, though he didn’t think he’d need them. His reaction this morning had been a bit over-the-top, but when he’d walked into the restaurant and found the man hovering menacingly over Nya and Lukas, and seen her sitting frozen with fear? His only thought had been that two people he cared for more than he should might be snatched away from him, and he had to prevent that outcome.
“Are you an expert on me now?” he asked lightly.
“Yes. I’ve added it to my CV,” she said.
Johan was warmed and then cooled by dual realizations—that because he’d shared more with her than anyone, she likely was an expert on him, and that she was only half joking about her CV because there was life after this fake engagement for her. The referendum would pass, or her need to shock her father would, and then she would go.
Yes, she liked him, but Nya liked everyone, didn’t she?
He wouldn’t think about it. He lived by the impulse, and now he would die by the impulse, because thinking about a long-term relationship with a woman he’d only been close to for a short time was ridiculous.
“Where are we going again?” Nya asked, looking around in awe. “It’s so pretty here.”
“This area of Liechtienbourg is an antimonarchist stronghold,” Johan said. “We’re going to see if they hate the von Brausteins less than Arschlocher’s party. And to meet my grandmother.”
“What!” Nya snapped to attention in her seat.
She pulled down the sun visor in front of the passenger seat and checked her reflection in the mirror there, though she already looked lovely. She always looked lovely.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before we left?” She was digging in her handbag for her lip gloss.
The joking lie was on the tip of his tongue, but the truth somehow slipped ahead of it. “I was nervous. I’ve never taken a woman to meet my grandmother.”
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she dabbed the gloss onto her mouth. “Oh.”
Don’t get any ideas, he wanted to add. It’s not because I really like you.
He more than really liked her, which was as far as his brain would let him follow that line of thought.