Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Hey!” she says excitedly, pointing in the distance where the strait opens up and the Baltic Sea spreads before us. “A rainbow!”
I’m currently bringing in the main sail to adapt to the changing wind and look around it to see a defined rainbow in the distance where the clouds are parting and the sun is coming in.
“The wind should be dropping soon as it comes around Sweden,” I tell her. “The seas should calm.”
She gives me her happy grin. Her mouth has always been wide for her face, her smile so beguiling, but when she’s really, really happy, that’s when you see her incisors. I call them her glade tænder or “happy teeth.” She becomes a sexy adorable vampire.
“It’s smooth sailing from here on out,” she starts singing a Queens of the Stone Age song, doing a goofy little dance at the wheel.
I laugh, wanting to join in but don’t.
“Oh, you’re too cool to dance with me,” she says with a scoff.
“I’m not the best dancer,” I admit, quickly tucking the ropes away and coming over to her.
“I don’t believe it,” she says. “You’re way too good at f….” she trails off and laughs loudly, covering her mouth. Dear god, she almost didn’t stop that admission. Neither my daughters or Johan need to know how good I am in bed.
“I’m good at footless, yes,” I say, as way of a cover-up. “But not proper dancing.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re good at slow dancing if anything. Kings have to know all that shit, don’t they?”
“Yes, we have to know all that shit.”
“Then perhaps one day you’ll ask me to dance.”
She’s still smiling as she says this, but there’s something heartbreaking about it. Like we both know the only dancing we’ll ever do is in our bedrooms.
I hate this. I love this so much and I hate it at the same time.
I hate that we’re trying to stifle whatever this is meant to be.
A muzzle on a dog that was never given the chance.
“It’s sunny!” Clara exclaims as her head pops out of the hatch and looks around. “Can we come up, Papa?”
“Of course,” I tell her. “Mind the deck, it’s a bit wet and slippery and stay down in the cockpit by Aurora.”
The girls climb out and go over to her, seemingly impressed that she’s steering the boat. I put on my sunglasses and scan the water in front of us, looking for any driftwood that sometimes blows out along here.
“Are those, like, X-ray vision?” Aurora asks.
I come over to the wheel and hand them to her. “They’re just polarized. It cuts out the glare so it’s easier to see into the water.”
She lets go of the wheel as I grab on to it and puts the sunglasses on her face.
“Wow,” she says softly, looking around her. Her smile is so bright, and I can see my reflection in the glasses. I’m smiling too. “It’s like a whole new world.”
“A whole new world,” Clara starts to sing dramatically. “A new fantastic point of view.”
I shake my head at her. She loves her Disney cartoons, but she didn’t quite inherit her mother’s singing voice.
Aurora is still looking around, then she takes them off and puts them back on again. “It’s hard to tell what’s reality now.”
“It’s all the same, it’s just you’re seeing it through a different filter,” I tell her. “It makes everything you’ve known seem brand new again.”
“It’s like another dimension.”
I chuckle at how enthralled she is and carefully remove the sunglasses from her face, staring at her. “Well this is the dimension you live in. It’s still beautiful.”
But love, I guess that’s the difference. Love is like looking at the world through polarized glasses. Every single thing has changed for the better. Everything murky becomes clear again.
“Papa,” Clara says, tugging at my jacket. “When do we get to the anchor place?”
“Soon,” I reassure her.
Though some of the best anchorages are on the Swedish side across the strait, we head down the Danish coast until we get to a little cove framed by a white sand beach. Much like the beach I took Aurora to around New Year’s, it’s deserted and won’t start filling up for another month.
Which is great because we have full privacy here.
We put the anchor down and then the royal attendants’ boat does the same right next to us and then we get started on dinner.
I hate to admit it, but I’m not much of a cook. Call me spoiled or having grown up a prince with countless cooks, but I certainly lack the culinary talent.
Aurora, on the other hand, takes charge. Down in the galley, she whips up a Spanish paella that rivals even the greatest chefs at my disposal. She even makes enough to give to the RAs and Johan rows over to deliver it.
“Another hidden talent,” I tell her after a few bites. We’re all sitting around the table, digging in, a nice bottle of Bordeaux between us. Johan can’t drink it because he’s officially on duty, so it’s just between Aurora and me.