As a prince born and raised, Albert could just as easily maintain a regal air as he could breathe. He was cordial, prim, and proper — an image befitting his rank, as he pretended to be utterly interested in whatever words Desmond’s mouth were forming. “We have full confidence in you,” was what he heard Charlotte say. His fiancee was right beside him, but she sounded so far away. If the Monegasque prince were with some other entourage, he could train his undivided attention on any conversation without breaking a sweat. But there was a huge distraction standing beside Desmond, and she was a human-sized magnet manufactured specifically for his gaze. A gentle squeeze on his bicep, and he caught himself staring at Freya. Charlotte was expecting him to speak. Internally ashamed, he quickly tore his gaze from the ghost of a lover in front of him. “I assume it’s your first time in Monaco?” He looked back and forth from Freya to Desmond, but it was Freya’s voice he was hoping to hear.
The first meeting brief — a mere five minutes, so it was done with everyone on their feet. It was the last thing on Albert’s schedule that day, and so he retreated to his room after bidding each of the organizers goodbye with a firm shake of the hand. When it was time for Freya, he didn’t let his touch linger a second too soon, nor did he let his gaze reveal a sliver of recognition.
The moon had just pushed the sun into hiding when he heard a distinctive knock on the door. Three slow taps, followed by a slap, then another tap. It was his twin. Albert quickly jumped from his bed to let her in. Renee met him with warm eyes and an empathetic smile. Despite having cheeks as round as her very pregnant belly, she still was every inch as beautiful as before she married. She buried herself into his chest, wound her arms around his waist. Albert could feel his tenseness ease from the embrace alone. He took care to maintain a bit of distance, however, as he did not want to crush his nephew. “Albie, you poor thing.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Re, why are you crying?” With his thumb, he ran soothing circles on the nape of her neck. “Because the love of your life finally came back, but only to make sure you wed another woman perfectly, that’s why.” Without warning, a buzzing warmth spread from his cheeks down to his chest. “She’s not — I’m not —“ Renee tilted her head up to throw him the stink eye. “Oh, shush, save that for Charlotte. I know how your heart eyes look.” Albert was dumbfounded. She pulled out a folded piece of paper from the inner pocket of her night robe. “Here’s a map of the palace and its secret tunnels. I drew a line from your room that leads to a hidden passageway opening up to Freya’s.” Now, it was Albert’s turn to give her the stink eye. “Secret tunnels? Really, Re?” When she was younger, she used to use them for sneaking in and out the palace undetected. “What?” She smiled an innocent smile, but her mischievous eyes gave her away. Albert didn’t know what in fresh hell had overtaken his mind when he disappeared into the tunnels.
Is this your first time in Monaco? No. Yes. No? Freya opened her mouth to speak but found no voice to let the words out. Feeling Albert’s gaze on her was enough to make her heart hammer a loud, steady beat that made it near impossible to pay attention to anything else. “Yes. But Freya used to travel far and wide. I’m certain Monaco was one on her list. Wasn’t it Freya?” Desmond’s voice cut through the pounding in her ears. She could only smile and say to nobody in particular, “still as in love with it as the first time.”
After arguing with Desmond in whisper shouts and the near-lethal beating she gave him with what could have been the most expensive pillow she has ever touched, Freya found herself retreating to her own bedroom. She was more than thankful that today was over. One second she was staring up at the gilded mouldings of the ceiling, and the next, she was thinking about Albert. Countless times Freya has tried to convince herself that Albert was another of the memories she would leave behind, another passing infatuation that would fade once she moved to the next country, another short-lived romance she would forget soon enough. But even after all the time they spent apart, Freya still found herself longing for the warmth of Albert’s arms and replaying the memory of his lips on hers. The twinging in her chest grew into mildly painful spasms, and the seemingly boundless room suddenly felt confining.
Dragging herself out of bed, she opened up one of the large windows that lined the walls. The cold, night air brought enough comfort to ease her nerves. Going here was a bad idea then, and it seemed even worse now, knowing how her heart reacted to Albert’s presence. Just seeing him from afar made Freya want to run and throw herself onto him. She only met Albert for a mere few minutes, and it was already too much of a pain to bear. How could she possibly take weeks and weeks more of this? Maybe if she begged Desmond hard enough, he would let her book a flight home. She ran her hands across her face in frustration.
Suddenly, a door creaked and footsteps sounded in her room. Her heart stopped. Did they notice how morose she seemed earlier? Have they found out about her past with Albert? Was someone sent to kill her? No, no, no, no. It’s probably just Desmond. It’s a serial killer, Freya. You did want to die, didn’t you? All the irrational thoughts were whirring through her head at a million miles per hour and she could barely keep up. Turning around was probably the wrong move. Seeing the figure in her room made her jump in surprise and stumble backwards into a side table holding a vase of fresh gardenias. Now, it was nothing but a heap of ceramic shards and crushed petals on the floor beside a startled, fallen girl. "Albert! You scared the shit out of me!” The informality tumbled from her mouth. Her heart was thrumming faster than ever, and it took every bit of Freya to even speak. “I mean- I- Your Highness- I-I’ll pay for that. Is there- Is there anything I can help you with?” She tried flashing a cordial smile, but the panic was still well evident in her eyes.