A/N: Another update! Hi guys, so I'm back in, like, a matter of a few hours. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to vote, comment, and take a look at Maeve's outfit for this chapter on my Polyvore page as stated on my profile! c: xx h
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VII.
I didn't think that he would actually want to take me out of the palace when we practically had his wing all to ourselves.
He came back to my suite, all dressed down. Well, his usual casual outfit would consist of a blazer and some matching pants with the blazer, looking ever so dapper, but this time, it was so different than the usual.
"Wow." I mouthed softly to myself when I saw him.
He was dressed in a white cotton t-shirt, with a black leather jacket draped over his sculpted body, and dark washed jeans together with a pair of dark brown leather boots to match. He looked like he'd just step out of an American film about handsome young rebels who rode on Harley Davidson motorbikes for their own merriment.
"Wait, are we taking a motorbike?" I asked him when the thought occurred.
He grinned a boyish grin, and passed me a leather jacket. "Yes, we are."
I took a moment to feel the tough fabric and a whiff of Noah's expensive cologne hit my senses. I checked the brand of the jacket and it's Dolce & Gabbana. I wore it over my jumpsuit, and I was immediately enveloped in his strong musk, as if it was really him locking me in his embrace. I looked up at him. "Where are we going?"
"We're going for a tour around my kingdom since you've showed me yours." He took my hand, pulling me up to my feet.
"But Denmark is my kingdom now, and not exactly Hungary anymore." I scratched the side of my head, a bit confused by my own words.
He chuckled. "Budapest will always be in your heart, Maeve, no matter which foreign country you rule. You could rule the whole of Asia or even the South Pole if you want, but where you grew up is part of what makes you who you are today."
I frowned. "Sounds like something someone's told you."
And almost immediately, his smile turned wistful, and I was almost afraid that I had somehow crossed a line.
"My mother told my father that when he, at one point of his life, didn't want to take up the title as the King of Sweden. He then decided that he needed to give something back to the country, since he grew up so privileged as a royal, and so he's giving all he can to Sweden because of my mother's words." He told me without any difficulty. "My mother wasn't Swedish, but she hailed from Liechtenstein. She was a budding traveler just like how my father was when they were young, and they met in London. She didn't know who he was, and he simply introduced himself as Henry. The rest was history."
"What was her name?" I asked.
"Audrey. Her name was Audrey." He said distractedly, as if deep in thought, then he looked at me again. "Come on now, let's go for your personalised tour around my kingdom, Princess Maeve."
"And now, that title really is valid to the people of the world." I sighed.
"That might be the case, Maeve, but they don't have a single clue about your identity." He reasoned. "Come on now, Princess; enjoy your anonymity while it lasts."
I hesitated, then sighed again in defeat. "Alright." I replied, rolling my eyes. He chuckled, then led me through endless halls and we reached the entrance where we first arrived three days ago.
A man, probably one of his staff, probably waiting for us before he handed Noah a vehicle key. "Have a pleasant ride, Your Highnesses." He wished.
"Thank you," Noah murmured before continuing our way out of the entrance. A palace guard opened the doors for us, and I saw what was waiting for us outside.
"Very, very expected because of the jackets, but really unexpected at the same time because I didn't really think you'd ride motorcycles since you're so proper and stuff like that." I commented.
The Harley Davidson motorbike looked like it belonged on posters made out of boys' dreams; something that would stick with them even as they grow up. It was really broad and looked really heavy, with its classic leather seats well-maintained along with the metal finishes. It was probably decades old, but it still looked brand new.
Noah grinned. "Well, whenever I have the time, I get on my bike and I simply ride it around the city. You are the first person I have ever taken out for a ride on my motorbike, ever."
He looked at me and took one of the two helmets slinging on the handbrakes, then secured it on my head for me. He took a step back, his green eyes smiling as he looked at me head-to-toe.
"What?" I frowned, tugging at the ends of the leather jacket.
"You actually look... hot," he complimented me. "Is there by any chance that I can make you wear leather jackets more?"
I rolled my eyes. "I doubt so, unless we're going on your motorbike again."
"More motorcycle rides, alright." He noted, unusually serious about this topic. "Because with the helmet and the jacket... you look like a supermodel."
I raised my eyebrows. "Supermodel?" I scoffed.
"Maeve, you're gorgeous, and I'm not saying that because of how much I'm attracted to you, but I think I'm speaking for all those people who have seen you before." He told me. "You have supermodel looks, has anyone told you that?"
"Well, it's not like you're a talent scout. You can't find me a model agency. I'm too busy with lessons on being Queen of Denmark anyway." I told him jokingly.
"Well, that's true. Come on now," he kissed my forehead before getting on the bike and turning the key, starting up the Harley Davidson. It roared to life, and Noah looked at me expectantly, "time to get on the bike, Princess Maeve."
I giggled, then got on the passenger seat. I immediately wrapped my arms around his abdomen, my chin resting against his shoulder. "Ride on, Prince Noah." I told him teasingly. He looked over at me and gave me his signature dimpled smile before moving the motor.
"To be very honest, I didn't know you'd like motorcycles. When did you start?" I asked him.
He looked eager to respond. "Well, my grandfather, who was the prince consort to my grandmother who was the former Queen of Sweden, always brought me out to a miniature car shop. We'd look at the latest models for the week, and then we'd get up to five miniature cars just from a single visit. We used to do that when I was five, and I took care of my collection with precision. And then when I was eleven, he got for me my first miniature motorcycle. It's the exact same model as this Harley Davidson, and it's a classic; a '77 Sportster. It's a secondhand, and I only changed the engines to newer ones, since the old ones were getting a bit rusty." He told me over the noisy engine. Lucky for him, I was close enough to hear his words.
"I guess I'll have to admit that this is much more favourable than riding on scooters around the city," I admitted, thinking back to Budapest. Scootering around was already quite tiring, and Budapest was a big city— imagine how long it took to cover some of the attractions with the scooters.
He chuckled, obviously thinking about that too.
The conversation stopped there as we took in the sights and sounds of the city. I had only been around Stockholm once when I was ten since Aunt Julia had to go to Stockholm for a conference and she decided she couldn't leave me in Budapest alone. We were in Stockholm for five days only, and compared to this second trip, it was nothing.
My fingers kept gathering at the cotton material of his shirt. Of course it didn't feel like any type of cotton— I was guessing it was some expensive kind of cotton. And I couldn't escape from not feeling his sculpted abs; they were toned and hard, but he didn't look to be those type of really buff men who turn out to be unattractive because of the size of their muscles— Noah was tall, lean, and had the perfect amount of muscles, so he wasn't like them.
While riding the bike, we crossed a bridge and there was a huge and grand building, which I assumed to be the Stockholm Palace.
I wasn't surprised at all when we stopped by here.
"We're here," Noah announced as we entered a private parking lot. I got off the motorbike and looked up at the palace entrance, with loads of local and international visitors coming in and out of the area.
I was about to remove the leather jacket when Noah told me not to, almost as if he was reading my mind.
"You look beautiful in it. When we're inside, you can take it off." He whispered in my ear as he took my hand and led me through the entrance.
We skipped the queue lines, going straight to the counter where there was a young blonde attending to the visitors. Noah simply flashed a card, probably to show that he was a member of the Royal Family, which then made the blonde study his face. She looked at him, wide-eyed, and blushed.
"Oh, good afternoon Your Highness," she greeted. "Do you have any problems with your card? Can't you enter through the security?"
"I can, but I need a visitor pass for my girlfriend," he pulled me closer to him, his arm around my shoulder as if to emphasise on his words.
She eyed me with distaste. "If she needs a visitor pass, she can simply queue with the lines to get an entry ticket—"
He then took out a passport and flashed it to her, and her eyes became wider as she looked between the passport and me. I frowned, wondering what the document had that made her even more struck.
"Crown Princess of Denmark?" She sputtered to herself. "Uh, I'll get that visitor pass done as soon as possible. Excuse me."
She started punching the keys on the keyboard of the computer swiftly and then gave a visitor pass to him. "Here you go, Your Highness." She told him, not daring to look at either of us.
He gave the pass to me, and I stared at him as we were walking past all the tour groups and such.
"What did you show that lady? What passport was that?" I demanded an answer.
He passed the said document to me discreetly, making it look like he simply was holding hands with me. I took a peek and saw a passport photo of me printed on the card, with the words Hende Kongelige Højhed Kronprinsesse Maeve Ella Weisz af Danmark beside it. Under that was my birthdate, IC number and sex, along with some more necessary information.
It was a Danish passport.
"Oh my god!" I exclaimed. "When did you get that?!"
"My father gave me your new Danish passport after you left for class. I guess I forgot to pass them to you before we left Drottningholm," he said. "Could you open your bag?"
I complied, opening my sling bag and he slipped in my new passport.
"My father told me to pass it to you, and he advised for you to keep it safe. He said to not flash it to anyone." He said.
"But you just flashed it to that lady—"
"Our civil servants are sworn to secrecy about these kinds of things. She won't tell anyone." He added, interrupting my retort.
I could still feel his hand wrapped around mine, and I was reminded of his words to the lady at the counter.
"I'm your girlfriend, huh?" I joked with him.
"Do you want to be?" He smirked, and with him in that rebel outfit and that devilish smirk, I was almost rooted to the ground.
I laughed it off. "Well, I honestly don't know," I vaguely answered. "Where are we going?" I quickly changed the subject.
"My office." He simply replied.
I frowned. "You have an office? Since when?"
"Ever since I turned eighteen. I help out with some work behind the scenes, usually, to stay out of the public eye but still help out in the society." He explained. "I help, but I take credit for it under a pseudonym."
"And what's it?"
"Well, my pseudonym is A. Kristensen." He told me.
"Ooh, so what does that 'A' stand for?" I asked further.
He paused. "To be honest, I haven't thought of that," he frowned. "I'll decide soon."
"Do you think you can ever continue to live like this— behind the public eye, while the rest of your family gets every amount of attention there ever is while you're required to keep away?" I asked him, my fingers lacing with his.
He took my question into consideration. "I quite enjoy the anonymity, but there are times that I wish that I got the same attention, and there are others where I'm relieved I don't get that attention. It's quite horrible, what people who don't like the Royal Family do. The last scandal that my family got was two years ago—we're all still recovering from it, but Christoffer is the person who's most affected by it. When the scandal went from bad to worse, my father threatened to remove his title as Crown Prince and pick either me or Caterina to be his successor. If I was to be his successor, I'd be introduced to the public. Christoffer straightened himself afterwards, and then the rest is history."
I pursed my lips. "If you don't mind me asking, what actually happened? What was the scandal about?" I inquired.
"It's in the public records, Maeve. You can just look it up, can't you?" He said, looking away from me.
I didn't push him any further, since he was already out of his comfort zone when he started talking about it. I made a silent reminder to search it up online once we got back to Drottningholm.
We turned to the left, where there was a couple of doors. Noah dug his pocket and retrieved a golden key from it. He inserted it into the lock of one of the doors, and twisted it until we could hear a click.
He opened the door, moving to the side for me to enter first. "Welcome to my office."
I walked over to the lavish desk chair, crossing my legs as I gave a cheeky smile. "Nice place."
The office was a large room, with a beautiful view of the Norrström river at the other end of the room. It was very contemporary and minimal, with glass finishings and a marble surface for a desk. The room was also filled with tons of white, but could never be deemed as plain with the different tones of it on every surface of it.
Noah smiled in agreement. "I have one of the best views in Stockholm Palace."
I turned the chair to face the window. "Oh yes," I sighed in content. "The view is gorgeous. I'd love to look at the calm river after a long day at work before leaving the office."
"So what do you think about this place?" He asked.
I frowned, thinking. "Well," I started. "It's a very nice place to work in— it's quite serene. I doubt that it can trigger claustrophobia in here because white usually makes rooms look bigger than they actually are." I noted, then turned to him. "Why an office when you can simply do it all in your suite back in Drottningholm Palace?"
"Drottningholm is my home, and I prefer to keep my office area and my home as far away as possible. We do have our Royal Apartments here, but I only stay overnight in them when I work late on a project."
"What type of projects?"
"Projects to help with the community, like the rebuilding of certain heritage sites and building new orphanages and such. I tend to be the main architect of these projects." He said.
I raised my eyebrows. "Architecture?"
He shrugged. "I graduated with a degree in it. I learned from the best experienced architects. I'm planning on taking my master's soon."
"How many buildings have you helped in creating them?"
"Seventeen. Three of them are the ones where I started being the main architect for the project. The others are all just me helping with the improvising." He told me.
"Wow." I simply said, not knowing what else to say.
He grinned, then took a whiteboard marker pen from the table as he walked to the glass. "Come here," he waved me over.
I stood from the chair and went to where he was standing at, with him uncapping the marker pen in his hand.
"All of my buildings are in my view— like how people's achievements are displayed on shelves? My achievements are displayed through my window." He explained, starting to outline certain buildings' silhouettes on the window with the marker pen. The lines he drew were perfectly straight, with slight curves around the edges of certain buildings; these buildings were all the results of sleepless nights, passion and effort Noah had invested into to make his country a better place for his people even if he was unknown to them.
I watched in fascination as he drew the outlines out, furrowing his eyebrows and pursing his lips in slight concentration. After a while, he stepped back once to take a good look at what he had drawn.
"These are mine." He showed me, referring to all of the outlined buildings.
And so I went on to find the similarities— the buildings were absolutely stunning, with a special attention to detail. There was a certain touch to all of them, as if they were simply Noah's signature touch on them. No matter what kind of inspirations they were inspired by or what type of buildings they were, his signature touches were always there.
"And I thought I knew a lot about you," I murmured out of fascination.
"We're only just starting to know each other, Maeve." He responded, a faint smile on his face.
After we left Stockholm Palace, the real tour started, with him bringing me around tourist attractions. It felt nice to be alone with him, and with him teaching me certain things about the attractions, it gave me some time to have my thoughts gathered without him asking about what I was thinking— how drastic the change would be from being an unknown person to probably the most-photographed royal in the world. If my identity were to be released, that would mean my relationship with Noah would be publicised, and Noah's identity as a Prince of Sweden and an illegitimate child of the King would bring questions to the Royal Family. My identity being known would mean that I would be giving Noah the unwanted attention he wouldn't want. I'd be giving the Royal Family a scandal they wouldn't want.
Overall, my being Queen would endanger his anonymity.
We got back from the national museum, with Noah handing over the keys to the man who gave them to us earlier. I reckoned that he was some sort of valet here. Noah held my hand and led me through the halls, on the way back to his wing when a palace servant came up to him, as if he was told to inform Noah the moment we came back. Noah froze, then relaxed, as if he nearly forgot that whatever that was told was expected.
When the servant backed away, he sighed. "Nothing that should worry you," he said, as if he knew what I was thinking. I didn't respond since there was nothing to say.
He dropped me off at my suite first, but he hesitated about leaving me there.
"What is it?" I asked, after seeing him pace in front of me.
He straightened his stance and stopped fidgeting, finally looking at me in the eye. "Well, Christoffer's wing is right beside mine."
There had to be something else he wanted to say. "And...?" I prompted.
He sighed. "There's a visitor staying in one of the suites over at his wing. I think that I'll introduce you to her soon, but not now...?"
"Who is it?"
He waved me off. "Soon. I'll tell you soon. I'll wait for you to go to dinner with the family later. She'll probably come, since she's family to us." He kissed my forehead. "Take some time to rest."
I wanted to pester him about who it was, but decided not to push him. He let go of my hand, then went to the next couple of doors and entered his suite.
I frowned, not satisfied with whatever answers he gave me. My hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn to go back and take some rest in the suite, but my mind was already far into the hallway, wanting to find out who it was that was here in Drottningholm that was considered family.
"Who the hell am I kidding, I'll take my chances." I muttered to myself and went on to go into the direction of Christoffer's wing of the palace.
I had never wandered around the palace grounds alone, and this was my first time. I wasn't sure which one was Christoffer's suite, and which was the guest's. I simply placed my ear to the door and I could hear the television turned on, with a pair of flats walking around on the floor. I was quite sure that this was the guest's suite.
"Anything else you need, Your Highness?" I heard a female servant ask the guest in another language.
"No, nothing much, really." The unknown guest responded— she had a soft, tinkling voice, which was heavily-accented. I had a clue of who it was, though.
"You may take your leave now, thank you." She continued.
When I heard the doorknob ready to be turned, I jolted away from the door and somehow, I couldn't bring myself to run back to my suite. I'd be seen, since the halls were brightly lit. Without no other option, because hiding behind eighth-century furniture pieces would be a bad idea, I stood rooted to the floor. Running would be a better idea, I suppose, but I guess the second thoughts weren't enough for me to move my legs to the direction of Noah's wing.
The door opened, and the maid who was in her thirties was surprised to find me there. I gave a sheepish grin.
"I'm sorry, I just—"
"Your Highness, do you want to speak with her?" She offered in Swedish, moving aside.
"Uh—"
"Princess," she said in the previous language without hearing my response, "you have a visitor."
"Oh?" The guest said, a little surprised and excited. "Bring them in!"
I grimaced inwardly. I was going to be in a whole world of pain for not following what Noah had said. Curiosity had killed the cat. Well, nearly since I haven't known who the guest is, but I was close to. Suddenly listening to Noah at that time didn't seem like a bad idea.
I forced myself to walk forward into the suite, where the servant who was behind me introduced me; "Introducing, Crown Princess Maeve of Denmark."
I looked at her, and my eyes widened. I didn't expect to even see her, I guess. I didn't know she was so close to the family— maybe she was close to the family, but estranged from Christoffer.
She studied me, and then raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so you're the next Queen of Denmark, I presume?" She started in fluent Swedish.
"Uhm, yes." I stuttered.
She simply offered a blinding smile. "I'm Margaux. Princesse Margaux Alexandra Loretta Cassandra Emma Lyons, Duchesse d'Orléans." She ended in French.