Carla’s Prince

Chapter 9

When he got back to his estate later that evening, Cristoff was more confused than ever. He had done everything that he could do to get Carla back but for some reason, it had not worked out as well as he would have hoped. He did not understand what he had done wrong. He sat down and exhaled loudly. Was this how hard it was? Loving someone? It had only been a few days since he spoke to Carla before seeing her earlier that day but it felt like a year. Every passing moment, every daunting minute was just another painful reminder of what he was missing out on. It was too much for him. He had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to handle this situation…whatever that situation was.

He did not know how long he had been sitting there when his phone rang, snapping him out of the dark silence that surrounded him. He looked at his phone and raised an eyebrow over the other when he saw a name he had not seen in a long time. His uncle from Denmark. He knew that there was absolutely no reason he would be calling unless whatever he had to tell him was of great importance.

“Uncle,” he said when he answered the phone.

“Nephew. How goes your stay in the Americas?” his uncle asked.

“I have had better days,” Cristoff answered exhaling loudly. “You? How is everything back at home?”

“Good. Great actually, but it would be even better if you were here.”

Cristoff forced out a laugh.

“I come home every so often,” he said. “Right now, I just want to be away from Europe where I can actually walk into an establishment for some ice cream without having the roads cleared in advance.”

His uncle laughed.

“You will have to get used to it when you are king.”

Cristoff shrugged as if his uncle could see him.

“Perhaps but right now I am just Cristoff and I like being just Cristoff.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this then, but you will have to step out of being just Cristoff and be the prince of Denmark.”

Cristoff leaned forward.

“Why? Did something happen to Father?” he asked, concerned.

“No, your father is in perfect health but the Duke of Maine is not so well. He suffered a stroke a day ago and I just received word that he is no more.”

Cristoff frowned.

“I did not know anything about this,” he said.

“The family was keeping it quiet but the news will break any time now. We need you to represent the country’s interests with the British,” his uncle explained and Cristoff nodded.

“Of course.”

“You would need to be there for the wake tomorrow,” his uncle went on.

“Sure…but why so soon?” he asked.

“Something about the old man requesting a speedy funeral. He hated the idea of staying in a funeral home for ages just to be stuck in a crypt.”

Cristoff ran his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly.

“All right. I will be there, Uncle. Thank you.”

He hung up and tossed his phone aside. Maybe that was what he really needed. A change of scenery to clear his mind. Maybe get to talk to someone else who actually knew him. His closest sibling: his sister Isabella.

                                                                        *****

Carla had half a mind to answer one of the many texts Cristoff had sent her but every time she started to type, she did not know what she was supposed to say. She was still angry. Sometimes, she even felt disappointed in herself for letting herself fall in whatever trap this was. She had developed strong feelings for him, there was no denying that, but she just did not understand what he was about. He had a deal that she just did not know or even understand and what was more frustrating to her was the fact that she did not know how to fight what she felt.

She did not only like what he did to her in bed, she loved it. She loved him and that scared her more than anything she had ever known or experienced.

                                                                        *****

When his plane landed in London, Cristoff was still as lost as ever. Even the short drive to Reading was also not enough to get his mind straight. If anything, he was as confused as ever. It was a breath of fresh air when the car finally stopped and he saw his sister standing in the biting cold, smiling at him. He stepped out of the car and walked up to her. There was a brief moment of them looking at each other before they embraced each other.

“It is so good to see you,” Cristoff mumbled.

“You chose to move to America,” Isabella said as she pulled away. “We had the perfect sibling relationship with you being down the hall, remember?”

Cristoff smiled.

“Come on, we have a few hours before the wake. You have to tell me everything about your place in the Big Apple,” Isabella said as she led him into the house. “I hope you brought me wine.”

Cristoff looked at her, surprised.

“I just sent you a case last week.”

“I know and I am in mourning this week.”

“I can bet the crown that you don’t even know the name of the person we are here to honor,” Cristoff said as they sat down.

“The Duke of Maine,” she said, shrugging dismissively.

“I asked for his name, not his title, Isabella.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I am sure they told me but I might have had one of your bottles, so I am exonerated right there.”

Cristoff laughed. Isabella was the only person back at home who reminded him what normal life was like. She never really cared that she was Princess Isabella. She always did what made her happy, a luxury that he could not afford. So instead, he lived vicariously through her.

He looked around and sighed when he saw people coming into their room dressed in their formal regalia

“I think I might be a little under dressed for this occasion. I think we both are.”

Isabella shook her head.

“Don’t worry. I got you,” she said. “I came with everything the next king of Denmark needs.”

“What for? I just thought I am here for a funeral and that’s it.”

“Since when is an aristocrat event just what it seems to be on paper?”

Cristoff shook his head.

“I don’t know…”

”Didn’t you get the memo?” she asked.

“What memo? What are you talking about?” he asked, confused as ever.

“There’s a ceremony after the wake…every aristocrat in east and western Europe is here. Hence the formal wear, crowns and all.”

He shook his head again. If there was anything he would have wanted to get away from, it was who he really was, but it was clear that was not going to happen. For an entire day, he was going to have to be Prince Cristoff and there was nothing he could do about it.

“But enough about politics and funerals. Tell me about the orchard in America. How is it doing?” Isabella asked excitedly. “Have you turned your little corner of the city into Napa yet?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t do wine tastings. The cases just get shipped off to…wherever, but I don’t want to talk about wine right now.”

“Really? So, what do you want to talk about, dear brother?” Isabella asked as she pushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear.