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Nothing to Fear

Summary:

“But it was me.”
A collection of different POVs taking place after season 2 of Young Royals. Basically random headcanons from what I think/hope could happen in season 3 and beyond, way into the future. Nothing but happy endings for my royal babies.

Notes:

General TW (updated as new chapters are posted): mentions of homophobia, mentions of anxiety, depictions of anxiety, depictions of panic attacks, mentions of depression, mentions of mental health issues.

Title is from Eivør’s song “Nothing to fear” from the album Segl. I think it’s a very Wilmon song.

“Here we are
Outside our comfort zone
The air so cold it tastes like freedom
Don’t let go
You’re the bravest boy I know
It’s almost happiness
It’s almost destruction.”

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: A peaceful transition

Summary:

What happened right after the speech. Kristina’s POV.

Notes:

I’m not a Kristina apologist, but I am very interested in her and her inner workings, as a queen and as a mother. I hope we get more of her in the third season, and I hope we see a different side of her.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Kristina had not been so close to losing her composure in front of a large group of people since Erik’s funeral. 

She watched, disconcerted, as Wilhelm stood at the podium and continued reading over the speech, skipping over a large portion of it, and delivering the closing remarks. As if he hadn’t just dropped an atomic bomb. As if he hadn’t just stunned everyone. 

Nobody was listening to his words anymore, nothing else he said, or rather read aloud from the cue cards in his hands, was as remarkable. All eyes were still on him, though. 

All lenses were on him. 

The television cameras had stopped rolling as soon as Jan-Olof indicated. Photographers were not as obedient, as they continued to snap photo after photo, hoping to capture something else, some priceless moment. And almost every student was still video recording on their phones or live streaming on social media. 

No doubt that what had just happened was all over the country, and making its way steadily around the world.

Disconcerted as she was, she managed to get Jan-Olof’s attention, even though no words came out. Jan-Olof understood perfectly, and he leaned over to speak to Headmistress Lilja, who stood up immediately and started walking toward the podium.

“Thank you, Crown Prince,” she said, her voice slightly unsteady. Wilhelm glanced over his shoulder once more, presumably at a specific person standing behind him with the choir, before stepping down and walking stiffly back to his seat. He slowly lowered himself back onto his seat, as Lilja thanked everyone for coming, in short announcing that the ceremony was at an end. The bewildered audience managed to clap, albeit unenthusiastically. 

Jan-Olof stood up and spoke to the head of security, and Lilja beckoned to the teachers. 

Students looked around confused as the teachers ushered them back into the building, camera crews and photographers were disconcerted and slightly confrontational as security spoke with them. 

Jan-Olof returned and approached the Queen to let her know that they should head inside. Kristina glanced at Ludvig and Wilhelm quickly before standing up, and security gathered around to lead them toward the building. Wilhelm reluctantly got up again and started following. August, still stunned, remained on his seat. 

They walked up the steps and into the hall. There seemed to be a commotion going on, teachers trying to reestablish order, all interrupted by the Queen walking in. Kids scrambled to their feet if they had been sitting down, or straightened up if they had been leaning against something, or turned around if they had been facing away, and the hall was filled with a muttering of incoherent greetings as they all bowed and curtsied toward her. 

Kristina glanced around quickly at all the faces, discreetly stopping when she finally spotted him to the right, partially hidden behind Wilhelm’s friend, Felice Ehrenchrona. The boy’s tan face was uncharacteristically pale and peaky. Felice seemed to mutter something to him, a hand on his shoulder, him clutching to the hem of her blazer. 

Kristina now glanced at Jan-Olof, who in turn gestured to the headmistress. Lilja cleared her throat. 

“Okay, everyone head to class now,” she announced, clapping for their attention.

“It’s Sunday,” a girl with two long pig-tails and an American accent said matter-of-factly. 

“Thank you, miss McCoy. In that case, everyone head back to your dorms,” Lilja said. “Quickly, please. Housemasters, please lead the way.”

Kristina breathed deeply as students awkwardly curtsied and bowed again before shuffling out, teachers trying to herd them as fast as possible. She chanced another glance toward the boy, but he was gone. On her left, Wilhelm was gone too. 

“Jan-Olof,” she called. “Please find the Crown Prince and have him meet us in the Headmistress’ office.”

Jan-Olof found Wilhelm in the coatroom, apparently having a breakdown, whilst the boy comforted him. The royal aide arrived a few minutes later with the Crown Prince in tow, who had another figure beside him, holding hands. 

“Will you excuse us, Simon? We need to have a private conversation,” Kristina said. 

Neither boy moved. Simon seemed to be shivering, whilst Wilhelm breathed hard. He swallowed hard before glancing at Simon, who pressed his lips together in a tight line. Headmistress Lilja broke the tense moment by stepping forward.

“Simon, please, come with me, I’ll wait with you outside,” she said, and the boys had no choice but to let go of each other’s hands, and Simon hesitated before being led out by the headmistress. Wilhelm suddenly looked adrift, as he watched Simon disappear behind the closing door. He turned back to his mother in front of him. 

“Mum, I-”

“We’re going home,” Kristina interrupted him. Wilhelm nodded, impassive.

“Okay, drive safely.”

She barely managed not to glare at him. “You are coming with us.”

“No, I’m not. I’m staying here.”

“Wilhelm, you’re coming with us now.”

“I’m staying here,” he repeated, slower, resolute. She felt her nostrils flare. 

“This is not a request.”

“Neither is this.”

“You’ve already made a scene today, there’s no need for another one.”

“I’m not making a scene. But why would I leave? I have class tomorrow,” he said, too calm for the brazen tone he had adopted.

“We are going back to Stockholm to try to figure out how to fix this,” she said. 

“I don’t think there’s anything that needs to be fixed,” he responded. She lifted a hand to stop him. She’d had enough.

“Wilhelm,” she said, pausing to fix him with a look, “we will discuss this when we get home.”

Wilhelm didn’t look at her. “And when will I be back?”

“That is yet to be determined.”

“Then I’m going to go pack. Just in case.” 

“We are leaving in five minutes.”

“Well, I’m guessing you’re not leaving without me, so…” he said, still too calmly. She finally strode past him, and one of her bodyguards opened the door for her. 

Outside, Malin stood on one side of the door. Lilja stood on the other, looking expectant. She bowed her head, and Kristina opened her mouth to speak, when she spotted Simon behind Lilja, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall and his arms around his knees. He didn’t move, nor did he look up.

“Headmistress, Wilhelm will be coming back to Stockholm with us immediately. I trust he can be excused from missing a few days of class as we try to resolve this. We will inform you about his return,” Kristina announced, and Lilja nodded diligently.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she said, even as Kristina was already moving away, flanked by her bodyguards. Ludvig followed her at a distance before stopping. 

Kristina stopped too and looked back at him. Ludvig watched Wilhelm walk out of the office, looking morose. His feet carried him directly to the boy hunched over on the floor, who stood up, and they embraced each other. Then Wilhelm took his hand and led him away, toward the dorms, chancing a glance at his parents. Malin and Joakim followed.

Kristina turned around again and continued down the hall to the front entrance. Ludvig eventually followed. 

Wilhelm showed up ten minutes later, with a backpack and a duffel bag hanging from one shoulder. He had changed out of his uniform. His nose and eyes were noticeably red.

They had been sitting inside the car, waiting for him. As soon as she saw him, Kristina signaled for the driver to go. Wilhelm would ride in a separate car with his bodyguards. She could not sit with him for the entire two hours to Stockholm. 

“Kristina,” Ludvig began. 

“Please, don’t,” she cut him off before he could say anything else. She didn’t mean to take it out on him. He watched her for a moment before looking out the window in silence. She did the same. 

She needed to be alone with her thoughts. She would only have two hours for it. 

Jan-Olof arranged for the Royal Court to meet as soon as the Queen arrived. Kristina needed to have the whole picture as soon as possible. As she walked through the Palace doors, she was back on problem-solving mode. 

“Mum-”

“Go to your room. We will discuss this later,” she said, not even turning to look at Wilhelm. His car had been a few minutes behind her and Ludvig’s. 

“I just-”

“Wilhelm.” She once again punctuated his name with a look, and turned sharply to face him, to show him how serious she was. “Go to your room.” 

In her head, she sounded like a neurotic mother from an American television show. Much worse. 

“I thought the reason you made me come was so that I could be a part of the Royal Court meeting, otherwise I could very well have stayed back at Hillerska.”

“Wilhelm, right now I need you to go to your room.”

There was a silence. His eyes were downcast, fingers picking at the strap of the duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. 

“I’m not sorry for what I did. But I am sorry for how I did it,” he finally said, then paused. “Maybe not too sorry.”

“I bet you are not. I don’t think you are aware of what you’ve done,” Kristina retorted.  

A couple of weeks ago, Wilhelm would have started yelling, berating, throwing a tantrum. Now, he was calm and subdued and resigned as he walked away, hands in his pockets, and headed up the long staircase. Before Malin and Joakim could follow, she gestured for them to listen. 

“Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t try to escape through a window or something,” she said, entertaining the idea that Wilhelm could be so histrionical. 

The bodyguards nodded and bowed and chorused ‘yes, ma’am’, before following their charge upstairs. She watched them go, shaking her head in disbelief.

She still couldn’t believe this day. She felt like she had entered a parallel dimension.

“Is the Crown Prince really a flight risk, ma’am?” Jan-Olof asked with his regular frumpiness. 

“Perhaps not, but I wouldn’t necessarily put it past him. My son does seem to have a flare for the melodramatic, as the whole country was able to see today,” she said, already exhausted. “I will go change and be ready to meet shortly.”

“Very well, ma’am,” Jan-Olof said, bowing as she walked past him toward the stairs. 

Halfway up, she glanced over her shoulder. Ludvig stood in the middle of the hall, hands in his pockets, looking meditative. He glanced up at her as if he had sensed that she was watching him and offered a sad smile before looking down again and just standing there. 

She would have liked for him to come with her, would have liked his company. But she also didn’t have time for that. So she kept going on her own.

Kristina spent the rest of the day with the Royal Court in the conference room, discussing the events. They went over everything, Farima and Minou delivering stats over and over again as they updated: how many news channels covering it, how many discussion panels, how many views on Youtube, on Instagram, on TikTok, on Facebook, on Twitter… 

It was viral already, it was everywhere, literally like a virus.

As bad as it had seemed the first time around, this time was even worse.

There were reporters outside of Drottningholm Palace, they had arrived almost as soon as the family had returned. According to Farima, there were at least seven news channels transmitting live. The Drottningholm Palace tours were cancelled for the day, and security was increased. 

They went over every single scenario, every possible solution and every outcome. Almost every single one of them put them back at square one. Almost every single one was truly improbable. Pointless.

Kristina could tell that they would be working until very late today. They would take a break and reconvene after dinner. 

She wandered aimless around the Palace for a bit. She thought about going to her office or any other room where she could go to think and be unbothered. But her feet carried her to her and Ludvig’s bedroom. 

To her surprise, Ludvig was getting up from the bed. 

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” She asked. He shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. It’s been a long day. Perhaps you could do with a nap yourself,” he said, getting up to change. 

“I could not sleep right now,” she said, sitting in a comfortable armchair by the window. 

“Did you come up with something?”

“Not yet. We’re taking a break. I need a break.”

Ludvig called to bring them tea, and ten minutes later there was a tray with a pot of boiled water and two cups. Ludvig busied himself with pouring both cups, whilst Kristina leaned back in her chair, feeling tension in her shoulders and her neck. Perhaps she would need something stronger than tea.

Suddenly Wilhelm burst through the doors and strode in. 

It wasn’t an angry stride, like she expected, it was more urgent. He had his phone in his hand, and he looked like he was trying to keep calm. 

“He’s trapped,” he said, once he was standing in front of her. She blinked in confusion.

“What?”

“We need to do something, please,” he said. He stood before her, his face contorted with worry. 

The last time Wilhelm had burst into their room looking like that, he had still been a little boy, about seven years old, and strange noises had woken him in the middle of the night; so the little boy ventured through the dark corridors all the way to his parents’ bedroom and in a meek and nervous voice asked if his mother could please come back to his room with him, as she often did when he got scared like that. He rarely asked for his dad, most times he wanted his mum. 

“Who is trapped?” Kristina asked. 

“Simon, mum! They followed him home. The paparazzi, the reporters. They’ve surrounded his house. They’ve had to close all the windows and curtains and they can’t go out. He’s trapped in his house. His mum is trapped, how is she going to go to work tomorrow? How is he supposed to go to school?” 

Kristina pinched the bridge of her nose, and sighed, exhausted. Her head hurt too.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you- no, I need you to send a security detail over to him, please. Someone who can drive away the media. Someone who can make sure they’re okay. Please.”

Kristina sighed again. “Wilhelm, you know very well I can’t do that. It’s not my call to make. Official security details are only for Royal House members. There is no justification for requesting a civilian’s house to be guarded under these circumstances.”

Wilhelm clutched his phone with both hands, holding them in front of his chest like he was praying. 

“We can’t just-”

“What did you expect to happen, Wilhelm?” She interrupted him, annoyed. “You announced to the world your connection to this boy, and now you’re surprised that the press is hounding him at his own house.”

“His name is Simon,” he said, irked, brow furrowed.

“I know his name,” she responded, equally irked.

“You seem to forget sometimes.”

“Wilhelm…”

“I was just trying to be honest. For once in my life,” he stated, sounding calm and collected, diplomatic. Kristina nodded in acknowledgment. They had very differing concepts on honesty, she feared. Honesty in her book was something that neither of them could afford to do on a whim. Honesty was a double-edged sword in their lives, much more dangerous.  

“I’m sorry, älskling, but I can’t do anything,” she responded. He stared at her, his eyes sad.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I can’t,” she repeated firmly. He took a deep breath.

“Then I’m going to go over there, and maybe my bodyguards, who have to protect me, can also protect-”

“You will do no such thing. You are not leaving this house.”

Her words came out louder and harsher than she intended, lingering between them for a while. 

Wilhelm looked like he’d been slapped. Worse, he looked like he’d been slapped on the wrist. Like a child. 

Without another word, he turned on his heels and left. Kristina half expected to hear a string of curse words, a frustrated scream, a vase smashing outside, or some other poor inanimate object to pay the price, but nothing came. 

That last time that Wilhelm had burst in seeking his mother’s comfort, nine years ago now, had been the last time, because Kristina had told him something very similar. Will do no such thing. She had told him that he was old enough now, that he needed to go back to his room by himself. There was nothing to fear, the noises were just noises. He was being absurd, he was old enough to know better. 

The little boy, with tears in his eyes, had gone back to his room, and he never came back. 

Wilhelm didn’t join them for dinner. Ludvig had them send some dinner up to his room, but after a while the maid came back relaying the message that the Crown Prince wasn’t hungry. The staff reported that Wilhelm hadn’t eaten anything at all that day. 

He had already skipped dinner the night before, and he had no breakfast or lunch, and now no dinner. Wilhelm had not eaten anything for over twenty four hours. 

“It’s like he’s gone on a hunger strike,” she huffed.

“He might still be sick. He did say he hadn’t been feeling well,” Ludvig pointed out.

“That was on Friday, and he said it was because of the nerves.”

“He’s still anxious. A lot has happened.”

“He needs to eat.”

“He’s worried about Simon.”

She put her fork down onto her plate. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

Wilhelm had also stayed in his room since she had sent him there, and had only come out when he sought out his mother’s help. She didn’t see him for the rest of the day.

The meeting continued well into the night. She was exhausted. Ludvig was waiting for her, sitting up in bed, reading a book. She went over the brief of the meeting with him, asking him what he thought. Ludvig had listened the entire time in silence, until she finished talking.

“I went to see Wilhelm earlier.”

He said it like it hadn’t occurred to her that she could do that too. She would, but she was still too frustrated with Wilhelm and she had a lot to do. She was in problem-solving mode still and she hardly expected her son to be much help. He had seldom been in the past.  

“You did?” She asked, already knowing what would come next.

“He was on the phone with Simon,” Ludvig said, and she looked expectant. “He looks tired.”

“Of course he’s tired, he hasn’t eaten anything all day,” she replied. “Did he say anything to you?”

“Just that the paparazzi haven’t left. He’s very worried.”

Kristina nodded. The thing was that she could in fact do something to resolve that situation, but justifying it meant attracting more attention to Simon. She made a note to have Minou contact the local Bjärstad police to assess how bad the situation was. Perhaps they could do something about it. 

“He wants to go back. He says that he should have stayed,” Ludvig added. Kristina let out a long sigh. 

“Absolutely not. He needs to be here, to work this out. He acted impulsively and now we have decisions to make,” she said, not unkindly. Her frustration was not directed at her husband. Ludvig sighed.

“But you haven’t had him in the meetings. When will you include him?”

She rubbed her forehead. She was tired, tense and felt like a migraine might begin. She stood up to go change, starting with removing her jewelry. Ludvig followed her to her vanity.

“Ludvig, you didn’t hear him that time. He literally said he would abdicate. He threatened to go live on social media to announce it himself. And all because that boy was on a date with someone else? How am I supposed to trust him?” She asked, looking at her husband in the mirror. He stood behind her, shaking his head. 

“Kristina, that was weeks ago. And he’s been going to therapy, and it does seem like he’s managing much better. We should have had him go to therapy ages ago. We’ve always known how difficult it’s been for him, the public scrutiny, the way that people treat him differently…” he said. “I think we’re still predisposed to the way that he used to react.”

Ludvig was right. Wilhelm seemed to be in control of his emotions, or at least working on it. It couldn’t have been easy. Not after the video, not after August. Not after Erik.

She glanced to the right at the two pictures of her children. She always kept tiny portraits of Erik and Wilhelm on her vanity, from when they were small. They weren’t official portraits, they were taken by Ludvig. Erik was eleven in his. She started at seven-year-old Wilhelm’s big gap-toothed grin (his two front baby teeth had been the first to go), brown eyes sparkling. The same little boy who would come into his parents’ room seeking comfort when noises in the night scared him. 

Somewhere along the way, he had become detached, temperamental, consumed by anxiety, even joyless. The only one who could still managed to get him to smile like that had been Erik. 

“He’s changed,” Kristina mused. Ludvig nodded.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Kristina sighed again. She no longer knew what she wanted.

The next morning, Minou came back with information from the Bjärstad Police; they had already received several reports of a throng of paparazzi and reporters surrounding the Eriksson house, and officers had been sent to make sure they weren’t disturbing traffic or trespassing on private property, but as long as they didn’t actually disrupt public order, the police couldn’t do anything. The number of press members had waned considerably during the night, but they had simply returned the next morning in greater number. 

In the meantime, Farima reported a sizable manifestation on the grounds of the palace; a large LGBTQ+ rights group. News crews were interviewing people and broadcasting live. Security maintained a perimeter around the palace.

“Will the Crown Prince be joining us for today’s meeting?” Jan-Olof asked. They were all sitting down for the morning meeting, with only one point in the day’s agenda. 

Kristina cleared her throat. “I suppose not, if he hasn’t graced us with his presence yet.”

Jan-Olof looked glanced at Minou before looking back at her. “Perhaps we could make better progress if we make sure he knows he’s welcome. Shall I call him to check?” 

Kristina blinked. She had indeed told Wilhelm to go to his room when he asked if he could join the meeting yesterday. 

“By all means,” she said. “If he deigns to answer you.”

They watched Jan-Olof making the call, and after a moment Kristina could hear the busy tone coming from his phone. He decided to send a text message.

There were two options, as far as she knew; either Wilhelm was ignoring them, too busy sulking in his room, or he was on the phone with Simon. Either way she didn’t expect him to answer to Jan-Olof. Wilhelm rarely ever wanted to talk to Jan-Olof, anyway.

“He says he’s on the phone with Mr. Eriksson,” Jan-Olof announced after a few minutes.

Kristina didn’t say anything. It seemed to her that Wilhelm’s priorities were clear. 

“Well, we have a lot to do, and we don’t have time to wait for him to finally decide to join us,” she stated. “Farima, Minou, please continue.”

The whole morning went by. So far, the only real progress they had made was to obtain a qualified counselor certified in LGBTQ+ matters, with whom they would have a conference call in the afternoon. 

They talked about the evidence they still had of the person responsible for the leaked video and what they could do with it. They discussed all the possible legal scenarios, how they could spin them to their advantage, or at least not to their detriment. They talked about what they could do about the footage for A Year with the Royal Family. 

Minou would draft a statement, addressing the Crown Prince’s speech. Farima would look into another possible interview with Rosenqvist. 

“Your Majesty, the Crown Prince asks if anything has been decided yet. He wants to know when he can go back home to Hillerska,” Farima said, reading from her phone. Kristina frowned in confusion. 

“He texted you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kristina kept her face neutral. This was Christmas break all over again. 

“Tell him he can go home whenever he pleases.”

She remembered his texts when he asked, begged to come back home. This was his home back then. Since when did he call Hillerska home without any irony in his voice, without it being written for him in a speech?

Farima hesitantly wrote back to Wilhelm.

Kristina didn’t get a migraine, but she had a headache by the end of the day. She also lost her appetite. She asked the kitchen staff to make a soup for dinner, something very light that she could stomach. She hoped that would also be light enough to convince Wilhelm to eat something. 

He still didn’t come to have dinner with his parents. But at least the maid reported that he accepted the soup in his room.

She and Ludvig sat alone at the dining table. The vegetable soup was restorative, exactly that she needed. 

Ludvig asked him about the meeting briefing, and Kristina reluctantly told him all about it.

“He told Farima he wanted to know when he could go home,” she said, disdain in her voice.

“Hmm,” Ludvig simply said, all too fixated on his spoon all of a sudden. 

“I suppose he didn’t believe me when I said that he could leave,” She said, before adding hesitantly, “did he?”

“I don’t think so, he’s still in his room,” Ludvig replied. “Has a statement been prepared?”

“Not yet.”

Ludvig seemed to expect her to say something more, but she moved on to other topics as they finished dinner. Kristina felt better, but she wanted nothing more than to go to bed early. 

She headed to the bedroom, and Ludvig followed. He stood near the door as she called to have tea brought up and something for her headache. 

“Kristina, have you been watching the news?” He finally asked. 

“I don’t see what good that would do,” she replied. She didn’t want to hear it, but Ludvig looked so concerned that she knew he was going to tell her anyway. 

“The public seems to be under the impression that we’re trying to hide Wilhelm away for coming out,” he said. “That we might try to make him take it back. They’re concerned that the monarchy is not going to accept a queer prince.”

She didn’t say anything. 

“They also seem worried about Simon, that he’s being cast aside.”

“Ludvig, this is precisely why I do not watch the news in regards to things like this. News channels will do anything to get viewers.”

“It’s not the news anchors reading from a teleprompter, it’s the people out there, the people in the crowd outside the palace, that are saying these things,” he pointed in the general direction of the outside world. “You can’t ignore what they people are saying. Especially if we haven’t said anything. They’re expecting something.”

Kristina’s countenance changed when she heard a butler knock on the door. Ludvig opened the door for him, and the young man came in with a tray with tea and placed it on the round table in the parlour. Kristina thanked him and took the painkiller for her headache as he left.

She sat on one of the chairs and started to brew herself a cup of tea, gesturing to her husband that she was making him one too. There was a long stretch of silence, populated only by the light clattering of the china set and teaspoons. 

“Are we just going to keep him here? Like a prince locked in a tower?” He asked, looking out the window.

Kristina looked at Ludvig over the rim of her steaming cup. 

“There are no stories of princes locked in towers, Ludvig.”

“This might be the first one, then,” he said. She took a sip of her tea, letting the hot liquid warm her body. 

“This is more firsts than I can handle,” she said, tired and morose. This was the only time and place where she allowed herself to be so vulnerable, in her room with her husband. He had seen her at every stage of her reign, he knew what it was like for her. And now more than ever she needed him to be her support system.

“How am I supposed to know what to do now?” She asked, letting out a long sigh.

“You’re not expected to know,” Ludvig said, sitting on the other chair. 

“I am, and you know it. I am the Queen.”

“I mean that you’re not expected to figure it out on your own,” he said, taking the cup of tea and taking a sip, before adding: “You should talk to him.”

Kristina shook her head slowly. “I don’t know if I want to hear what he has to say.”

“Then I really don’t know how you expect us to move forward,” Ludvig replied, leaning back on the chair with a tired sigh. He continued to sip his tea, whilst Kristina stared into her cup, like she hoped that the leaves swirling at the bottom would reveal some sort of answer.

“He hates me,” she muttered. Ludvig set down his cup.

“He does not hate you.”

“He sees me as the enemy. I’ve betrayed him not once, not twice, not even three times-”

“I don’t know how you’re counting.”

Kristina stood up, thankful that the headache was starting to wane. She paced in front of her husband. “I told him to deny the video, I protected August, I made August his backup, and now I’ve… locked him in a tower, as you say. I’m the villain of this story. Why would he talk to me? Why would he trust me?”

Ludvig leaned forward on his chair. “He does not hate you, and you are not the villain.”

Kristina chuckled without mirth and wrapped her arms around herself. “That’s easy for you to say. He will never see you as the villain.” 

Ludvig stood up and walked over to her, wrapping his own arms around her, rubbing her back. 

“He doesn’t want you to be the villain. He wants you to be on his side.”

Kristina pressed her face to Ludvig’s shoulder, feeling warm and a little bit more relaxed. She was still afraid.

“Talk to him. Listen to him,” Ludvig offered, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Kristina waited until the headache was gone before she decided to pay her son a visit at last. She also needed to muster up the energy, self-control and courage to do so.

She needed energy because lately talking to Wilhelm turned into a confrontation, and she needed to be in the right mindset to not storm out to get away from him. 

She also needed courage because, despite what Ludvig had said, she feared that she and Wilhelm would never see eye to eye, never find a middle ground.

Things with Erik had always been simpler, they had always flowed more naturally. With Wilhelm it was always a battlefield. 

As she approached Wilhelm’s room, she put on her invisible armor and braced herself. 

“Is he in there?” She asked Malin, who was standing outside the door. Malin bowed her head.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, half-joking. Malin nodded.

“He’s asleep, ma’am.”

“It’s only seven p.m,” Kristina noted.

“He said he was tired, ma’am.” 

“Or so he wants you to believe.” 

Malin nodded again. “I just checked, ma’am.”

Kristina sighed. “Very well. I better not go in there and find a bunch of pillows and a blond wig under the bedsheets,” she joked mirthlessly. Malin’s eyes smiled, unable to hide her amusement.

“Be careful, ma’am, the lights are low,” she whispered, opening the door for her. 

Kristina walked in, stepping gently, in case Wilhelm was indeed asleep, and in case she might step onto something in the dim light. Kristina didn’t doubt Wilhelm’s ability to turn his room into an absolute mess within minutes of arriving. 

She spotted his silhouette on the bed. He slept in a half-fetal position, facing her, eyes closed, sheets and blankets pushed off his body and pooled around his legs. He wore pajama bottoms, but no shirt. His cheek was pressed against the pillow propped onto his outstretched left arm, his right hand on the mattress beside him. His chest moved with each slow breath. 

Kristina sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to graze his bent knees. She was about to reach a hand to touch his shoulder, to gently wake him up, when she noticed his phone. 

Beside him was another pillow, and his phone was propped upright against it. On the screen, she spotted an ongoing video call. Simon’s sleeping face was almost exactly mirroring Wilhelm’s, except that there was a deep red light shining on him. The call had been open for two hours and eleven minutes. 

Kristina froze. There he was again. This boy who now seemed to occupy every minute of Wilhelm’s time, every thought in his mind.

A little voice in her head just kept asking Why this boy? Why not someone else? Is this really love? 

That little voice was the part of her that always tried to logic her way through life, the part of her in charge of decision-making and problem-solving, that methodically and strategically worked through situations, like a game of chess. The queen part of her. 

And somewhere inside her was the mother she also embodied, the part of her that still mourned her first child and everything he could have been, and still hurt over her youngest’s disdain and still desired for his happiness above all else. That was the part that, unfortunately, she often had to push aside, otherwise she couldn’t get the job done. Otherwise she would let a lot of people down.

It was hard and unpleasant at times, but she had to.

She snapped back to the present, realizing that she had been staring at their faces, no idea for how long, intruding on an intimate moment between them, without their knowledge or consent. That happened too many times for them, and they didn’t deserve it. 

“Wilhelm,” she whispered, touching his shoulder. Wilhelm’s eyes fluttered open, taking a deep breath. He spotted his phone, then he glanced to the side and saw her. He quickly grabbed his phone and pressed the hang up button, before sitting up slowly.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Even in the dim light she noticed his eyes were red, like he had been crying himself raw.  Squinting at his phone, he tapped something, a text message, most likely to Simon, before flipping the phone shut.

Kristina waited patiently for him to be fully awake, her eyes on the opposite wall. Wilhelm sat with his knees pulled to his chest, and sighed. 

“What did you decide without me?” He asked, his voice hoarse, emotionless.

Kristina looked at him. “Nothing’s been decided yet,” she began, reaching a hand to tame his bedhead. “We have been discussing next steps, but we haven’t decided anything without you. However-”

He turned away, shaking his head. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. She rolled hers.

“I was going to say that tomorrow we want you to come and discuss it with us.”

Wilhelm looked down at his knees. “What’s the point of pretending to include me if you’re just going to do whatever you want?”

She sighed, exasperated. “Wilhelm-”

“Are you going to listen to me if I go to the meetings? You don’t seem to be listening to me right now.”

“We are listening. We will listen.”

Wilhelm shook his head and finally met her eyes, looking earnest. “No, I don’t mean you as in everyone. I don’t mean the Royal Court. I mean you. You. My mother.”

“Of course I will listen to you,” Kristina said, her expression softening. Wilhelm continued to shake his head. 

“But you haven’t. You haven’t been listening. I told you what I needed. I need you to help Simon. I need you to protect him. I asked you. I asked nicely. And you haven’t done anything,” Wilhelm said, his voice soft. He hadn’t raised his tone at all. “He can’t leave his house, his family is under siege. He couldn’t go to school today, his mum had to call to excuse herself from work. They can’t get groceries, they can’t go anywhere. And I’m here, and you won’t… you’re just going to let it happen all over again. It’s the… it’s like the fucking video all over again.”

Kristina took a deep breath to keep calm. “Wilhelm, I already told you, it can’t be done. And you’re the one who brought up the video again, remember? In front of a crowd and cameras.”

Wilhelm continued to shake his head. His eyes were glistening. “I won’t leave him alone again. Either you help him or I’m leaving. I’m not letting you trap me here for a week or more, without being able to do anything. I won’t let you force me to say anything I don’t want to say.”

Kristina stood up, frustrated, and turned to face him, knowing well that he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Wilhelm, listen to me now. We are trying to deal with the consequences of what you did. You’ve put us in a very difficult position. Our main concern right now is your safety-”

A tear escaped Wilhelm’s eye. Kristina watched him, impassive. Wilhelm indeed had always had a flare for the dramatic. 

His gaze was fixed on his lap, shoulders slumped. But his face didn’t betray anger or frustration. His expression was blank, and he was shaking his head slowly, almost imperceptibly, a gesture of resignation.

“Wilhelm, calm down,” she said, certain that some sort of outburst was inevitable. 

Instead, he closed his eyes, and the tears that had pooled in them overflowed, trailing down his cheeks. He looked exhausted. His voice came out in a breathy, shaky whisper.

“Am I being punished for being queer?”

The question lingered in the air for a long moment, as Kristina felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. He suddenly looked so fragile, like porcelain glistening in the dim light. He was the little boy again, who was scared of noises in his bedroom, who would try fruitlessly to contain his tears and hesitate before seeking comfort in her arms again. 

Her throat felt tight and itchy. “No, gubben,” she said, voice unexpectedly thick. He sniffed. 

“Am I being punished for… for coming out?” He asked, lips trembling, shrugging his shoulders as if that were his best guess, as if there couldn’t possibly be any other option. 

Kristina looked up at the ceiling, her own eyes misting over, before looking back at him.  

“There is no punishment going on, Wilhelm.”

He met her gaze again, brown eyes full of sorrow.

“It feels very much like I am… you get why, don’t you?”

Kristina approached him again, breathing slow. She swallowed hard and touched his face gently. “Älskling, your father and I love you just the way you are, I told you this before. We really do. It’s just…” she trailed off. There was no way to express that things would be so much simpler if he weren’t queer, without it sounding horrible, without doing further damage. 

 “I’m sorry that you feel this way, gubben. We are not punishing you. But I’m not exaggerating when I say that this is a very difficult situation that you’ve created.”

Wilhelm’s tears hadn’t stopped. “I was just trying to be honest,” he said very quietly. She nodded. 

“I know.”

“It’s just… nothing I do seems to be enough,” he said, dejected. 

Kristina shook her head, caressing his cheek again, wiping a tear away.

“I’m sorry, älskling.”

He wiped his cheeks, and took a deep, trembling breath again. 

“I would really appreciate it if you to be honest with me too, for once,” he said.

Kristina stared at him for a moment, searching his face. She nodded. Wilhelm licked his lips before speaking again.

“I’m not asking for much. If this were Erik, and this were about a girl he loved, you wouldn’t even hesitate.”

“That would be a completely different situation,” Kristina responded, not unkindly.

“Because Simon is a boy,” Wilhelm stated. 

Kristina bit her lip. Under any other circumstances… 

“You are asking me to be honest,” she said, before adding, “yes, because he’s a boy.”

Wilhelm closed his eyes. Kristina took the chance to wipe a rogue tear from her eyes.  

“You once told me that you had an unfortunate romance,” he said quietly. “You told me that because you think this is an unfortunate romance too. But it’s not. And I just don’t understand why you can’t see that…”

Kristina didn’t say anything, her eyes fixing on Wilhelm’s phone. 

Yes, she could see that, she wasn’t so blind or in denial about it. She could see it in the way that they smiled at each other during Wilhelm’s speech, like only they existed; she could see it in the way they spoke to each other without having to utter a single word, and the way that they seemed inseparable. She could see it in the way that, even miles away from each other, they were still comforted by each other’s presence, that they would fall asleep next to each other even if it could only be through a screen. She could see it in the way that her son was willing to do anything for Simon. 

She could see it, but accepting it was a whole other matter.

It wasn’t about her. Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t even bat an eye about it, it would be entirely his life, his choice.

It was about the monarchy. And it was about the rest of the world.

It was what had plagued her ever since the video first came out: the rest of the whole world, who dared to watch it, a video with two underaged boys being caught unaware in an intimate moment, who dared to judge and make assumptions, who dared to make it their business. Who spread it around like entertainment, like a meme. Who enthusiastically participated in the decay of this godforsaken society.  

And it was the institution that tacitly reinforced that this could not, would not be allowed. 

She wasn’t about to lay all of that on her son, but she was about to say something else, something more offhanded than that, when Wilhelm wrapped his arms around himself, grimacing, like he was cold and in pain, fresh tears cascading down his cheeks. 

“I can’t leave him alone. I can’t,” he said, his voice dim, like it hurt to even speak. “Please let me go back. Or at least please listen, I need you to listen to me. I need you to understand.” He tried to contain a sob as he looked up at her with pleading eyes. 

“His life could be in danger. If you’re worried about my safety, I can’t help but be worried about his, for the exact same reason.”

“Please,” he said again, more earnestly than he had the previous day.

At that moment, the chess game was put on hold, and the mother side of her took over. She pulled her son into her arms and hugged him, and she was relieved when he didn’t try to pull away but instead melted into her embrace, putting his head on her shoulder. She turned her head to kiss his temple.

“I’ll see what I can do, älskling. I promise,” she said. “Please just stay one more day. I promise that we will discuss everything with you, and that we will decide together.”

He nodded against her shoulder, and she sighed in relief. 

That same night, Kristina contacted Minou and told her to submit a request for a temporary security detail to be dispatched to the Eriksson home in Bjärstad. Even if the reporters and paparazzi could not be sent away, they would make sure that they kept their distance from the house, and they would escort Simon to the school the next morning.

In the morning, Wilhelm joined them in the meeting. He looked tired, eyes still red and swollen from the previous night, but he was there, ready to asume his role. 

There was still only one point in the agenda for the day. The Royal Court agreed to change their strategy: Simon would be presented as a suitable match for Wilhelm. 

“A match? Like we’re getting married or something? We’re sixteen,” Wilhelm asked, annoyed.

“The Crown Prince must understand, this is how the public will see it,” Jan-Olof responded. Wilhelm took a deep breath before speaking again.

“I don’t care how the public sees it, you are not dictating his life, he’s not doing anything he doesn’t want to do.”

Kristina took a deep breath. “Of course not, Wilhelm. Everything will be discussed with him and his mother beforehand.”

It was an unfortunate fact; as much as Kristina would have liked for the Royal Court to take absolute control, Simon was still a minor and thus his legal guardian was still his mother. So the Royal Court started on a list of all the things that they would need to do, and how to approach them with Simon and his mother. 

The first thing on the list was the prospect of getting Simon to move into Forest Ridge, for his safety. The media would not go away, so the best thing would be for him to become a boarder at the house, where it would be guaranteed that he would not be under siege. The Royal Court would speak to the school board to ask about a mid-term inclusion. Simon would apply to a grant for boarding in Forest Ridge, and the Court would intervene on his behalf to ensure that he would obtain it. 

“If he and his mother agree, of course,” Minou stated. 

Other points on the list was to make an appointment with the Erikssons to discuss matters of safety protocols, royal protocols, social media management, media training, privacy, legalities, etc. 

“I want to be included in those discussions, if possible,” Wilhelm said. “I know there are some where I can’t participate, because they’re private family matters, but whenever I can be present, please include me.”

“Very well,” Minou said, making notes. Kristina smiled proudly at Wilhelm. 

Farima prepared a statement to be shared in all official communication channels, as well as be sent to the press. Kristina read the draft over and set it down, satisfied. 

“I think this looks really good,” she said. “I would suggest you add ‘severe’ before the word ‘violation’, precisely to emphasize the severity of the situation,” she added, nodding her head as Farima took notes. She then looked to Wilhelm to see his reaction. Her throat tightened when she saw his face; his eyes were glistening with tears and his lips were pressed together. He nodded slowly and put down the statement. 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” he said in a low voice. “Can we send it to him and his mother before we send it out? I want to make sure it’s okay by him.”

Everyone exchanged glances. Kristina nodded. “No problem. Just make sure he replies by the end of the day, so we can send it out first thing tomorrow.”

Wilhelm got them to agree to his return to Hillerska that afternoon, so he could arrive at least by dinnertime and be well rested for the next day of school. 

At midday he sat down to eat lunch with his parents, and although he was still tired, his mood had noticeably improved. At least for the moment

“What are you going to do about August?” He asked when the Royal Court reconvened after lunch. Jan-Olof cleared his throat but said nothing and just looked at the Queen.

Kristina took a deep breath, wondering if this time whatever she said might trigger an outburst. “We don’t know yet.” 

“Is he still my backup?” 

“For the moment,” she answered. “But we will come up with a plan B.”

“I thought he was plan B,” Wilhelm said. Kristina hesitated.

“That’s right, yes,” she replied, “a plan C, then. But in the meantime, let’s leave everything as is. Once everything has quieted down again, perhaps we can meet again and decide together. I think we have plenty to deal with right now.”

Wilhelm stared at her, as if he were deciding if he should trust what she was saying. Kristina cleared her throat.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, to pretend that everything is fine, but I’m being completely honest, Wilhelm. This is not about letting him off the hook, it’s not about rewarding him. It’s about not drawing any more unnecessary attention on the whole matter if possible. The video is making the rounds again on television and social media, we knew this would happen, so it would be best not to blow the scandal out of proportion again. For your sake and for Simon’s. That is all.”

Kristina reached her hand out to Wilhelm. “We support you, Wilhelm. You and Simon. And our main focus right now is to ensure your safety and your privacy. So let us focus on that, and we’ll take care of everything else as it seems fit.”

Taking her hand, Wilhelm finally nodded.

A couple of hours later, Wilhelm was all packed and ready to go. Malin and Joakim loaded the bags onto the car and waited by it as the Crown Prince said goodbye to his parents inside. Kristina waited as Wilhelm hugged his father, then stepped over to her.

She touched his face, which was no longer red and swollen from crying. He was actually smiling. He hadn’t smiled at her in a long time. He didn’t look so fragile anymore.

“Thank you for listening to me,” he said. She smiled back, but faltered for a moment. 

“Wilhelm, you understand that this entire situation could have been handled better,” she said. Wilhelm nodded.

“Sometimes you have to risk a little to gain a lot,” he muttered sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. 

Kristina pulled him into a hug, and he hugged her back, much longer than she expected, much longer than they had in years.

Kristina had never been very effusive with her children, she was made to believe it would make it more difficult for them to develop the character that they would need to be royals. Now she wished she had held her children all the time, in any way possible, every chance that she had. She couldn’t hold Erik anymore, but she could still hold Wilhelm.

She pulled away to look up at his face. He had changed; he seemed a little weathered, but definitely wiser and more mature. Maybe he was prepared for everything that was coming, but she was still uneasy. 

She had wanted to protect him from all of it, she wished she could protect him forever, but he was already carving his own path in life, making his own choices. There was no stopping him anymore, no matter how much she wished to take control.

“It’s not only what this means for the Crown, Wilhelm. I’m still your mother. And I’m scared,” she whispered. He sighed.

“I know. I’m scared too, but not so much anymore,” he said. He hugged her again.

Ludvig told him to let them know when he got to Hillerska, and Kristina reminded him about the press release. Wilhelm waved goodbye as he walked to the door. They watched him get into the car and drive away. They watched him as the car disappeared around the corner of the palace. 

“Come on, we need tea,” Ludvig said, putting his hand on her back and she let herself be led away.

From The Royal Court’s Media Centre

Official Press Release

A Statement from Drottningholm Palace

 

Her Majesty the Queen and the Royal House wish to express their support for His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, in light of his recent speech during the Hillerska Skolan Jubilee celebration.

The family stands by his decision to speak out, and the bravery and integrity he displayed during his speech.

The Royal House send their sincere gratitude for the messages of support and encouragement for the Crown Prince, and request that the public respect his privacy. 

The video that was made public last year was nothing short of a severe violation of the Crown Prince’s and Mr. Simon Eriksson’s privacies. The Royal House condemns the recording and dissemination of any photography or video that infringes upon an individual’s intimacy, especially when the parties involved are legal minors. 

An official investigation on this occurrence is ongoing, and all sensitive information will remain confidential. 

 

Press contacts

Information and Press Department

Notes:

Chapter 2 will be from Simon’s POV.

Chapter 2: Adrift

Summary:

The aftermath of the jubilee speech, from Simon’s POV.
After Wilhelm has to go back to Stockholm, Simon heads home and encounters some unpleasant surprises.

Notes:

I’m so sorry that this is such a long chapter, but I didn’t want to cut it off. It’s a real rollercoaster of emotions that our royal baby Simon goes through. But I can promise you that, if you make it to the end of the chapter, you won’t be disappointed. I can also promise that none of the future chapters will be this long.
TW: panic attacks, anxiety, mental health, anxiety-induced nausea and discomfort, self-loathing.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Everything was a blur.

Simon’s breathing quickened. He couldn’t hear properly, there was a low buzz in his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was the low murmur from the crowd all around them, or a rush of blood to his head. 

Wilhelm had turned back to the podium and finished his speech. The moment between them had passed, and now everything was derailing. People clapped awkwardly, looking around disconcerted.

Simon’s legs felt like jelly. Behind him, Felice put a hand on his back to steady him.

He saw Lilja come up to the podium and say something. He saw the guests getting up, confused; he saw the teachers ushering the students inside, and he was unavoidably caught in the current of people going up the stairs. He wasn’t moving on his own accord, paralyzed with fear and dread; Felice had to grab his hand and pull him along.

He looked around, his eyes searching for Wilhelm. He spotted him in the distance, sitting with his family, surrounded by security. 

Once back inside the school, it was just commotion. The students were confused, amused, annoyed or ecstatic, chattering animatedly as the teachers fruitlessly tried to keep them under control. 

Simon felt faint. He only realized that Felice was talking to him when she put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” She repeated, her voice still muffled in his ears. 

He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. His mouth felt dry. He felt sick. 

Suddenly everyone went quiet, and there was a chorus of muttered greetings and everyone bowed. He looked up, confused, to find the Queen standing there, at the door, with Prince Ludvig. And Wilhelm.

Simon forgot everything else and looked at Wilhelm, begging him silently to look back. 

Wilhelm seemed to be searching the crowd. For him? Simon nearly blurted out his name to get his attention. But someone else’s gaze unexpectedly met his own.

Queen Kristina was looking directly at him. 

Simon’s instinct was to hide behind Felice, his hand clutching the hem of her blazer. 

Lilja ushered the kids off to their dorms. He stared around confused, when he felt someone tugging at his hand. 

Wilhelm had materialized beside him. Without a word, he pulled him along, darting through the crowd of students, Simon’s feet barely able to keep up. 

They were back in the coat room, Wilhelm closing the door. 

“Wille, what did you do?” Simon asked when he found his voice again. It still sounded a bit dim in his own ears, but at least he felt that he could think better, breathe better now that they were out of the crowd. “Why did you do that?” He repeated. 

Wilhelm didn’t say anything; he had gone pale, lips parted and eyes very wide, taking very quick and shallow breaths. The only sound coming out of him was the slight wheezing of his breath. Simon realized this was a full panic attack. 

“Shit, it’s okay, Wille, you’re safe,” Simon said, his voice trembling. Wilhelm bent over like he was about to be sick. Simon grabbed his arm, and put his other hand on Wilhelm’s chest. “Look at me, Wille. Look at me. It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, I’m not leaving, okay? This will be over in a moment. Just look at me,” Simon said, trying to calm his own voice. Wilhelm’s fear-stricken eyes met his.

“Feel my hand on your chest, and focus on how your breathing moves my hand. I’ll breathe with you, okay? We’ll do it together,” he continued. Wilhelm nodded, covering Simon’s hand with his own, clutching it to his chest, as he followed Simon’s soothing instructions to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. 

“Do you want to sit down? Do you want to go somewhere else?” Simon asked. Wilhelm shook his head, but he put his back flat agains the wall and slid down slowly, still holding on to Simon’s hand on his chest, until he was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him. Simon knelt beside him at the same time.

Wilhelm’s breathing slowed down little by little.

“Is that better?” Simon asked, getting a little nod in response. “You scared me,” he added with a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” Wilhelm said under his breath, looking embarrassed, his grip on Simon’s hand loosening a bit. 

Simon was going to say something else, when the door opened. Jan-Olof’s frumpy face looked down at them. 

“Crown Prince, the Queen requests your presence in the Headmistress’ office right away,” he announced, disregarding Simon or whatever he perceived was going on in the coat room at that moment. Simon almost wanted to scream at him.

Wilhelm gestured for him to wait; he focused on his breathing again, feeling Simon’s hand on his chest, squeezing it lightly. He took a deep inhale through his nose and let out one last long breath through his mouth, and nodded, as if to say he was okay now.

“Okay, let’s go,” he muttered. They stood up together, slowly. Wilhelm steadied himself with one hand on the wall. 

Resigned, they followed Jan-Olof, grasping each other’s hands like they were holding on to dear life. 

“Will you excuse us, Simon? We need to have a private conversation,” the Queen said as soon as they entered the room.

Simon was holding on to Wilhelm’s hand so tightly that he was sure he was cutting the circulation to his fingers. And he was shivering, like he had stepped into a cold environment. Neither of them moved or spoke.

Headmistress Lilja approached them and said something to Simon that he couldn’t quite process and led him outside. He glanced back at Wilhelm’s tense face before Lilja closed the door. 

“Are you alright, Simon?” She asked. “Do you want me to call your mother?”

Simon didn’t reply. He needed to sit, his legs felt like jelly again, so he leaned against the wall and slid down it, pulling his knees to his chest. 

It felt like hours passed before the door opened again and the Queen stepped out, telling Lilja that Wilhelm would be accompanying them back to Stockholm. Simon felt the Queen’s gaze pass over him as she walked away. He sat there, motionless; it felt like his insides had been removed. 

Wilhelm was leaving. 

Again.

He looked up to find Wilhelm standing beside him, looking mournful. Wilhelm held a hand out to him, and Simon took it, sure that he wouldn’t be able to stand up without help. He got to his feet, and Wilhelm enveloped him in a tight hug. Simon clung to him, trembling hands clutching at his back. Then Wilhelm took his hand and, glancing once at his mother, led Simon away. Simon didn’t look back at all. He knew that the only two people following them at a distance were Wilhelm’s bodyguards. 

They didn’t say anything the entire way until they were in Wilhelm’s dorm room. Wilhelm closed the door, leaning against it, like he needed a moment to collect himself. Simon stood beside the sink, gripping the edge for support. 

Wilhelm started moving about the room; he pulled a duffel bag and a backpack out of the closet and placed them on the bed, then walked around picking things up and packing them; clothes, shoes, his toothbrush, his laptop, a couple of notebooks, his phone charger. He then peeled off his Hillerska uniform and changed into a pair of jeans, a polo shirt and a wool sweater over it. 

The whole time he was packing and changing his clothes, he talked, but his voice sounded quiet, like he was trying to stay calm.

“I’m sorry I did that without telling you first. I just… I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t say anymore lies. I knew she’d demand I go back to Stockholm with them. I’m only packing to make them think that I will stay for however long they want me to stay, but I’m not staying. There will likely be a meeting with the Royal Court this afternoon, as soon as we get back, and they’ll want to put out a statement explaining what happened, and I’ll be in that meeting. And as soon as it’s over I’m coming back. They want me to assume my role as Crown Prince and make me give speeches, then they’re going to have to also include me in the meetings and listen to me. I’m done with the Royal Court just telling me what to do. I’m done with them thinking that they can convince me to do whatever they want me to do. I’m not denying anything this time. And they can’t make me, because it’s out there already, it’s everywhere. They’re just going to have to go with it. If they’re smart, they’ll support me, they’ll support us… Simon? Simon, please don’t cry.”

Simon’s knuckles were white from how hard he gripped the sink. Hot tears filled his eyes, but he hadn’t felt them spilling down his cheeks. Wilhelm was in front of him, holding Simon’s face in his hands, and Simon swallowed hard, unable to speak. 

“Simon, please believe me when I tell you that it’s going to be okay,” Wilhelm whispered, caressing Simon’s cheek tenderly. Simon felt like he would break into a million pieces.

“It’s happening again…” he choked out. Wilhelm shook his head vigorously.

“No, it’s not. I’m not letting it.”

“It is. They’re gonna make you do an interview again or… or something…” Simon said, his voice hitching, because he was trying not to sob. He hated himself for how weak and miserable he sounded. He hated himself for being so stupid to let this happen to him again, to let himself think that he had any choice in this matter. He hated himself for letting himself get hurt like this again. 

Wilhelm shook his head. “They can’t. It’s everywhere now. That’s why I did it. I made it seem like it was my decision to lie. I got them off the hook. And they can’t make me take it back,” he assured Simon. But Simon also shook his head slowly, eyes still streaming.

”They are… you’re just going to leave and I’m… I’m gonna be wondering what’s happening… and then… you’re just going to… they’ll… you’ll take it back… again…” 

Wilhelm pulled him into a hug again. “I’m not taking anything back,” he said gently. “I promise.”

“Wille, they’re gonna make you deny everything,” Simon said. He sounded bitter and angry. His hands were trembling at his sides.

“No, they’re not. They can’t. And even if they could, I won’t.”

“Yes, you are!”

“Look at me,” Wilhelm said, as he cupped Simon’s face again. His eyes were filled with tears too. “I won’t. I swear I won’t. I’m so sorry that I did before, you have no idea how much I regret it. But I was scared that time. I’m still scared, but fuck… I love you. And to know that you love me too… I’m not letting them take that away from me. I’m not letting them take me away from you.”

Simon nodded, wiping his cheeks. He didn’t know how to feel or what to think at this moment. They were taking Wilhelm away, again, and leaving Simon in the dark, again. He believed Wilhelm, he trusted him now, but he also knew there were forces beyond his comprehension working behind Wilhelm, and that they could do anything, so why would they not be able to destroy everything that they had, no matter how hard they tried to protect it…?

He clutched at Wilhelm’s arms. Wilhelm was nearly dragged out of Hillerska once already; and this time he was going willingly. 

“And what if they… they could not let you come back… could they?”

Wilhelm scoffed. “I don’t care what they let me do or not. I’ll come back, even if I have to climb out my window and hitchhike all the way back here.”

“Wille…” Simon whispered. Wilhelm took his hands, interlacing their fingers, and looked earnestly into Simon’s eyes. 

“I promise, I swear to you, I’m coming back.”

Simon touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s and closed his eyes.

“I’m scared,” he said. 

“I’m scared too. But I love you, I know that much.”

“I love you too.”

Wilhelm kissed him, and Simon wrapped his arms around him, clinging to him, like he would fall apart if he didn’t. They kissed so desperately, wanting to absorb as much of each other as they could, to make time slow down. They kissed more desperately than two days before, when they thought it might be the last time they could ever be together. To Simon, right now, this was no different. He might never see Wilhelm again, for all he knew. He might never get to kiss him again.

So when Wilhelm pulled away, Simon chased his lips for another kiss, cupping his face. Wilhelm was crying too, he could taste their tears in his lips. 

They stopped, breathing heavily. Wilhelm pressed his forehead to Simon’s. 

“I’m sorry that I have to go. But I’m gonna go there and put an end to this. I don’t know what’s going to happen, they might tell me that I won’t be the Crown Prince anymore, they might want to put fucking August up to it instead. I don’t give a fuck. Then it won’t have been my choice, and I wouldn’t be letting Erik down… I doubt they would do it, I doubt they’d risk the bad rep, but… I don’t care. I choose you. I choose whatever I need to be with you.”

Simon embraced him again, nuzzling his neck. He should have felt happy to hear those words. But Wilhelm was leaving, so he could only feel fear and heartbreak right now. 

Wilhelm tried to pull away. “I have to go… Simon, I have to go…”

Simon shook his head, gripping him tighter. “No… Don’t go.”

“Please, Simon… if I don’t leave now, I never will.”

Simon let him go. Wilhelm turned to the sink and splashed his face with cold water and dried off. He handed Simon the towel, before going to grab his bags. Simon looked in the mirror; his eyes and nose were redder than Wilhelm’s. He wiped his nose with a tissue and then splashed his face with cold water too, which did little to fix anything. He dried himself off, and Wilhelm planted a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing his hand and heading out the door. Malin and Joakim, waiting on the other side, followed them. 

They stopped in the main hall. Through the open door, Simon could see the cars waiting for Wilhelm outside. 

“Will you call me when you get there?” Simon asked, resigned.

“I promise. I’ll call you all the time. I’ll keep you up to date. And you call me if you want to talk,” Wilhelm replied, offering him a feeble smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You better,” Simon said. He didn’t want to let go of Wilhelm’s hand. “I love you,” he added in a whisper. Wilhelm smiled, like those words had revived him.

“I love you too,” he replied. Then the smile faded, and he closed his eyes, like he was mustering every ounce of willpower he had to walk away. Without another look at Simon, he turned quickly and walked out the door. 

The first car drove away, and Wilhelm got into the second car with his bodyguards. As they drove out, Simon noticed the group of reporters and photographers in the distance, outside the school gates, waiting for the cars to come around the bend and down the road. Camera flashes went off like strobe lights, voices shouting unintelligibly as the people chased after them trying to catch a glimpse of the passengers, before the cars sped away, down the road. 

Simon started trembling again. With despair, with rage, with every emotion bubbling to the surface. He wanted to scream, smash things, throw himself against a wall. He hated everything, he was angry at everyone. He hated the Queen and Jan-Olof and the Royal Court. He hated August for destroying everything and Sara for double-crossing him. He hated Marcus for judging him. And he hated everyone at the school, the teachers, the students, the guests and the media at the jubilee; they all just sat there watching as if this were pure entertainment, as if they weren’t real people. As if it weren’t his life.  

Then the cars disappeared from view, and he was just sad. He felt lost and lonely, like he had been set adrift.  

He had no idea how long he stood there. 

“Simon.”

Simon turned around. Felice stood at the threshold of the Manor house dining hall; she had changed out of her uniform and now wore jeans and trainers and a blue knit sweater, her coat hanging in her arms. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, approaching him. Simon just shrugged. Did he look like he was okay? But he didn’t say that, he didn’t want to be rude. He got the feeling that Felice had sought him out to check on him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. 

Simon looked in the distance again, as if to convince himself that the cars were gone, before giving her a half-hearted nod. 

“I don’t know when he’s coming back, or if he’s even going to be allowed back,” Simon finished, summarizing what happened and what he and Wilhelm had talked about. He and Felice sat outside, in one of the stone benches, watching as a crew of workers dismantled the jubilee set up. All the guests, photographers, camera people and security guards were gone. 

“I’m so sorry, Simon. You must be so frustrated,” Felice said, looking sympathetic. “For what it’s worth, I do think that you can trust Wilhelm. He’s changed a lot. And he really loves you. I mean he really, really loves you like crazy.”

Simon nodded. “I know,” he said meekly, staring down at his hands. 

“I still can’t believe he did that. It was bold and… romantic,” Felice said with a small smile. “And I think he might be right. It’s out there. I don’t know if you’ve checked social media, but it’s everywhere. And it’s been less than an hour! They won’t be able to cover this or make him deny it. It would be insane.”

He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t think we can ever be sure with the Royal Court, or with Wilhelm’s mother.”

“I guess your right. But I think at least you can be sure that Wilhelm won’t let them force him to do anything. I don’t think he would have done something so crazy if he weren’t sure that he can put up a fight.”

He rubbed his face, tired. “That’s the thing, why does it have to be a fight? From the beginning it’s been just obstacle after obstacle, it’s exhausting.”

Felice put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I just… I just want to be with him… I almost wish I didn’t want him so bad… but I do,” he whispered, on the verge of tears again.

“In that case, the only question is, is it worth it? All the exhaustion, the obstacles?”

Simon let out a deep exhale. But as he thought of Wilhelm, of kissing Wilhelm, of the feeling of Wilhelm’s hands on him, like his entire body was set on fire, of his smell, his voice, the way he looked at Simon like he was the most beautiful thing in the universe, the way Simon felt safe and loved in his embrace, the way that the world around them melted away when he was with Wilhelm… there was a pleasant warmth in his chest. “Yes,” he said in a sad whisper, without hesitation. 

Felice smiled. “Well, now you’re just making me envious,” she joked, and Simon chuckled. “I hope one day I find someone to love as much as you love each other.”

He gave her a genuine smile. He had always been wary of Felice, despite her friendship with Sara; he was aware that she used to have a crush on Wilhelm (maybe she still did), and then hearing about that kiss… But knowing what he knew now, that Felice was Wilhelm’s friend and support system, that she tried to help them both… It was nice to have someone else on their side, someone else that he might trust. 

“Do you feel better?” She asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “You?”

Her smile vanished, and she was lost in thought. “Sara moved out,” she said.

Simon’s smile disappeared too. He looked down at his hands. “When?”

“This morning, I guess. I slept in another room, I was so angry at her. When I got back to our dorm, her stuff was gone.”

Simon bit his lip. He wished he didn’t have to think about that, not with everything else he was dealing with. 

“She probably went back home,” he said. 

“Do you think so?”

“Where else would she go?” Simon said, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. He thought he knew his sister. But it was like she had become this whole other person right in front of him, and he hadn’t even realized it. 

After he had always been so protective of her, even when he was the younger sibling, for her to stab him in the back like this… Was Sara getting back at him for Micke? Or did she really choose August, of all people, over her own brother?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The last thing he wanted right now was to talk to her. It was too soon, he had other things in his mind, and nothing she said would help. 

Maybe the only other person who understood what he felt right this instant was Felice. Felice who was probably Sara’s best friend, who actually chose Sara over August, who welcomed Sara into her dorm room and into her group of friends, who had been protective of her in Manor house when Simon couldn’t, and who obviously felt as betrayed by Sara now. 

It made Simon wonder if Sara had actually cared about Felice at all, or if she had only wanted to be friends with her for the clout, to have access to her horse, to get special treatment. He never thought he’d feel bad for a rich girl like Felice, who was beautiful and popular and had everything, but he did. 

“I feel so stupid,” Felice mumbled. Her eyes welled up with tears and her cheeks reddened.

“Don’t,” he said. “She tricked all of us. Especially me.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I can’t even imagine how you must feel about this. But I’m so angry at her, and you’re the only person I can talk to about this,” Felice said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to. It’s just… even though I’m mad, I’m still sort of worried about her… I kind of want to know if she’s okay.”

Simon’s eyes stung, but he refused to cry anymore. He just wanted to go home, get there in time for when Wilhelm called. But, if Sara might be home… He dreaded going home, he didn’t want to see her and possibly have to listen to her try to apologize, try to explain herself. 

And how would she explain to their mother why she was suddenly moving back home?

However, he also wanted to know where Sara was, and if she was okay. As angry as he was at her, he now knew that she felt bad enough about it to move out of Manor house. Which meant that she was somewhere out there, feeling bad about herself. 

“I guess I’ll go home. I’ll let you know if Sara is there. Call me if you hear from her first, please,” he said, standing up, swaying on the spot. He felt drained. Felice stood up as well.

“Everything is going to be okay. I know it,” she said, offering a small smile.

Simon walked back into the hall, hands in his pockets. 

A part of him wanted to stay right there, hoping against hope that Wilhelm would be back. He told himself he would feel better once he got home, once he had spoken to Wilhelm. It had only been an hour, so he was only halfway to Stockholm by now. 

The school was oddly deserted, there were no staff, no students walking around. The only noise around were the crews in the back still loading pieces of the jubilee setup into trucks. 

Simon headed toward the gate, looked up and froze.

A large group of people stood just outside the gate. At least three dozens of them with cameras with massive lenses, video cameras, microphones and voice recorders. 

These were the same reporters that had been chasing after the cars when the Queen and Wilhelm left. But now it looked like there were twice as many. Or maybe there were paparazzi there too? Had they been there this entire time? Waiting for whom?

Simon blanched. Some of them had spotted him and were calling out his name, and then all of them turned to him. Cameras started clicking and flashing at him. 

They were waiting for him.

He stood there, hesitant, glancing over his shoulder, contemplating running back in the building. But what would he do then? Tell the headmistress? What could she do? Should he call his mother? How would he explain the horde of photographers waiting for him?

He just wanted to go home.

His mouth felt dry, his palms sweaty. He’d simply walk past them and ignore them, and get to the bus stop. Easy. No big deal. 

Simon took a deep breath and started walking to the gate again, keeping his head down. 

Do not make eye contact, do not speak, do not look scared, do not run, he told himself as he approached them. They surrounded him.

“SIMON!”

“SIMON!”

“SIMON, OVER HERE!”

“SIMON, HOW LONG HAVE YOU AND THE CROWN PRINCE BEEN TOGETHER?”

“DID THE CROWN PRINCE GO TO STOCKHOLM? WHY DIDN’T YOU GO WITH HIM?”

“OVER HERE, SIMON!”

“SIMON!”

“DID YOU KNOW THAT THE CROWN PRINCE WOULD SAY THAT IN HIS SPEECH?”

“SIMON, LOOK HERE!”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WITH THE CROWN PRINCE?”

“SIMON, DO YOU KNOW WHO TOOK THE VIDEO OF YOU AND THE CROWN PRINCE?”

“SIMON!”

“SIMON!”

Simon walked at a steady fast pace, resisting the urge to run. He looked straight ahead, his head slightly bowed, holding one hand up to shield his eyes from the flashes. It was difficult to see where he was going when reporters and photographers jogged alongside him or in front of him, shoving microphones and recorders into his face, shouting at him, and snapping photo after photo of him from every angle. The white light of the flashes blinded him; spots appeared before his eyes.

They weren’t touching him, but they were so close that he felt like he was asphyxiating, like they were crushing him.

He made it to the bus stop; as if by providence the bus was just rolling to a stop next to it. He climbed on, whilst the cameras and the shouting voices continued to chase him. To his relief, none of them followed him onto the bus. 

His hands were trembling so much that he dropped his phone when he tried to show his bus pass to the driver. He crumpled into the nearest seat, crouching so that they couldn’t see him from outside. The bus was empty except for an elderly couple near the front, and a young woman in the back wearing headphones, who merely glanced at him then looked out the window again. 

His heart was beating fast and hard, his breath coming out in shallow, wheezy gasps. He felt dizzy; his ears were ringing again.

“Hey, you okay?” the bus driver asked. Simon nodded when he should have shaken his head. He should have asked for help. Instead he lay down across the two seats, willing himself to calm down, his head hitting the wall, the bump between the seats digging into his back and his legs hanging awkwardly into the aisle. 

Calm down, calm down, he told himself, feeling he might be sick. Why was he able to help Wilhelm earlier when he was having a panic attack, but he couldn’t help himself? 

As if he had summoned him with his mind, the phone clutched in his hand started buzzing and vibrating. Simon tried to steady his breathing and his hands before pressing the answer button. 

“Hey,” he said. His voice sounded strange.  

“Hi,” Wilhelm replied, breathless. Simon felt relief wash over him. 

“Are you… are you already in Stockholm?” Simon asked, his ears no longer ringing. He remained horizontal, just in case.

“No, we’re only halfway there, but I couldn’t wait to call you. I… I wanted to hear your voice. Are you home already?”

Simon smiled to himself. The dizziness disappeared. “No, I stayed a bit longer, I ran into Felice, and we were talking.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Apparently Sara moved out, so I’m guessing she’s at home.” 

“Oh… does that… I mean… are you okay with that?”

 Simon shrugged, even though Wilhelm couldn’t see him. “I don’t know, I guess I’ll find out when I get there. I’m on the bus now.”

“Okay, well, text me when you get there, please. I’ll call as soon as I get to Stockholm, but if you want to talk, call me.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Is everything else okay? Are you okay?” Wilhelm asked.

“Um,” Simon hesitated. “Yeah, sure.”

“It’s just that… you sound… tense.”

“Oh, I’m just tired,” Simon replied. He wasn’t about to tell Wilhelm that he’d just had a panic attack, didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. The reporters and photographers stayed behind, so he didn’t have to worry about them.

“Okay, yeah, me too. I need loads of coffee, and I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” Wilhelm said.

“You have to eat, silly,” Simon said, smiling when he heard Wilhelm chuckle. “I love you,” he added after a beat.

“I love you too,” Wilhelm said. “I miss you. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Simon hung up and immediately felt sad again. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before slowly and carefully sitting up. He looked out the window; one more stop and he’d be home. 

He would get home, change his clothes, eat something and collapse on his bed until Wilhelm called him. He’d likely have to explain to his mother what happened, since she would have probably seen something on the news or social media already. 

Linda had no idea he had broken things off with Marcus, she had no idea about him and Wilhelm, and she would have absolutely no context for what happened during the jubilee. On top of that, if Sara went home, Linda would be confused about that too.

The bus arrived at his stop. Simon got off and walked down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, gripping his phone like a lifeline. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw cars, at least six or seven of them, screeching to a halt behind the bus that was just pulling away from the bus stop. The cars parked in a line on the curb, and men with cameras jumped out and dashed down the sidewalk after him. 

The photographers had followed him. 

Simon felt a cold sweat, panicking again, trying to think what to do, as he slowly and hesitantly continued on the route he usually followed to get home. If he walked home, they would know where he lived.

Maybe they already knew. After all, a reporter had shown up at his door last year (not even a local one); maybe someone who knew him shared his address on social media, or maybe that reporter asked around. But the fallout of the sex video had been one thing. Now this, a speech by the Crown Prince going viral, carried a lot more interest. So of course it wasn’t just one random reporter now. 

What should he do? He still didn’t want them to follow him all the way home, snapping pictures. He thought of going into a shop along the way, calling Rosh and Ayub to come pick him up, to make a dash for it, to get them off his back. But he didn’t want to get his friends involved in this. He simply wanted to get home. He felt ill; he didn’t want to be ill in front of cameras. 

He thought of all this as the photographers caught up with him, cameras in his face again. He bowed his head, trying to shield his eyes with one hand, looking as stoic and as calm as possible. He walked faster without running. He couldn’t run anyway; some of the men would get right in front of him, walking backwards taking photo after photo of him or recording video. The men behind the cameras all kept calling his name, a few of them asking questions or saying other things.

“SIMON!” 

“SIMON, OVER HERE!” 

“GIVE US A SMILE!”

“LOOK HERE, SIMON!” 

“SIMON, ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH THE PRINCE?” 

“WHAT DOES THE QUEEN THINK OF THIS?” 

“SIMON, LOOK HERE!” 

“SIMON, GIVE US A SMILE!” 

Simon almost tripped when his foot caught on the foot of one of them. The man didn’t even apologize.  

“Are you- are you going to keep following me?” He asked feebly, knowing he shouldn’t have spoken to them, knowing he shouldn’t have acknowledged them. None of them replied, just kept doing what they were doing. He walked on.

People on the street, standing outside shops and restaurants or walking by, gawked at the sudden spectacle. Simon couldn’t really see the people, see if he recognized anyone, if anyone recognized him. The people just watched, stared in fascination, probably pulled out a phone to record, to upload for everyone to see. 

He entered his neighborhood and made his way to his house. The photographers followed him all the way to his front door, shouting more desperately and unintelligibly at him. Simon fumbled with the key in the door, cursing to himself. He yanked the door open and closed as fast as he could, stumbling backward in the entrance. The cacophony of voices stayed on the other side.

“Simon, ¿qué está pasando? ¿Quiénes son?”

Linda appeared from the kitchen. She looked out the large window in the dining area, staring in shock at the photographers clustered outside. They saw her and started snapping pictures of her. Simon dashed to the window and yanked the blinds down. He was breathing hard, his heart was hammering in his chest, his ears buzzing again. He started walking around the house, closing all the windows and drawing curtains and blinds. He couldn’t do anything about the front door window. Linda followed him.

“Simon, ¿qué pasa? ¿Por qué hay fotógrafos fuera de la casa? What’s happening?”

“What’s going on?” Sara asked, hurrying out of her room, coming face to face with Simon. She blanched at the sight of him, and Simon scowled at her for a second before going into her room and closing the curtains. He continued to walk around doing this until every window was blocked somehow. He grabbed a pillowcase from the dryer and a roll of masking tape and taped the pillowcase over the front door window. The house was pretty dark by the time he finished.

His mother followed him to his room, as he glanced outside quickly, parting the curtains of the window beside his bed to look outside. The curtains and blinds in his room were almost always closed, a habit he acquired after the video.  

“Simon, please, tell me what’s going on,” Linda begged him. Simon put a hand over his mouth, to contain a sob. He crawled onto his bed, finally letting go and sobbing into the pillow. He thought he couldn’t cry anymore, but new hot tears soaked into the sheets; his throat felt raw, his chest tight and painful. 

He felt his mother’s hands on his shoulders.

“Mi amor, ¿qué sucede? Me estás asustando…” she asked in a gentle voice. He felt her sit on the edge of his bed. “Please, you can tell me anything. But talk to me, please, you’re scaring me.” 

It took Simon a moment to be able to stop, to regain his breath and calm down. He sat up, feeling like a rag doll, his limbs weak, leaning his body into hers for support. He looked into his mother’s big concerned eyes.  

And then he told her. He told her everything he could. He had to leave out the issue with August and with Sara, but he told her about everything else. He went as far back as his failed attempt at trying to get over Wilhelm by dating Marcus, how hard it was for him to be broken up, how Wilhelm eventually gave him space, and how much they wanted to get back together; he told her about the kiss at the ball, about the song, and Jan-Olof; he told her about Wilhelm saying that he would willingly give up his role as Crown Prince if it meant that they could be together, if Simon would have him; he told her about breaking things off with Marcus, and how he told Wilhelm that he was okay with being together in secret until they were eighteen; he told her about Wilhelm’s speech, and how it was everywhere now; he told her about the Queen making Wilhelm go back to Stockholm, and how Wilhelm promised that he wouldn’t deny anything this time and promised to be back as soon as possible; and he told her how the photographers had been there waiting for him outside Hillerska and followed him home, and he hadn’t known what to do. 

Linda was stunned, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. She cradled her son in her arms, rubbing his back to soothe him.

“Ay, hijo…” she muttered. “What can we do? Should we call the police? To make them go away?”

“I don’t know…” 

“Todo va a estar bien, mi amor. I’ll call the police if they don’t go away soon, and it’ll be okay. But…” she stroked his cheek, her eyes watering. “You should have told me. You should have told me what you were going through. I didn’t know how hard it was for you, I didn’t know how you felt.”

Simon leaned into her touch. “I’m sorry. I wanted to move on, I wanted so bad to get over Wille… and you were so excited about me and Marcus-”

Linda grimaced. “Ay, Simon, of course I was excited, because I thought you were happy. I don’t care who you are with, as long as you are happy. Yo solo quiero que tú seas feliz, mi amor…”

He wiped his face. “That’s the thing. I’m not exactly happy right now… I love Wille, and he loves me, but… everything is messed up right now. And I don’t know if we’re ever going to be actually happy together…”

“Well… every relationship has challenges…” Linda said. “I know it’s hard, and you’ve been through a lot, but… if you really love each other, only you can decide whether it’s worth it or not. Whether you can make each other happy, eventually.”

“It feels like it’s more up to the Royal Court,” Simon said flatly.

Linda continued to stroke his back and cheek, telling him he should have called her before leaving Hillerska, that she would have come to pick him up, instead of him having to walk through photographers on his way home.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted to come home,” he sniffed, wiping his nose with a tissue. “I think they would have found out where I live, anyway.”

“Have you told Wille about it?”

Simon shook his head. His head hurt, from all the stress and crying. “I don’t want him to worry. They’ll go away eventually.”

Linda stared at him, unsure. “If they don’t, I think you should tell him. Maybe he knows what to do, or someone from the Royal Court can help.”

He scoffed. The Royal Court would be too busy trying to brainwash Wilhelm. 

Linda sighed. “I feel like you kids don’t tell me anything anymore, like you don’t want my help at all. I know you’re getting older and you can handle yourselves, but I am still your mother and I worry about you, it’s my right as your mother to worry about you two,” she said. “Sara didn’t call me either, I would have come pick her up, instead of her carrying her luggage all by herself in the bus.”

Simon closed his eyes. He knew the conversation would turn to Sara. His headache pulsated. Linda looked concerned.

“Simon, do you know why your sister came back? She said she doesn’t fit in at Manor house, that she was way in over her head, but she also said that she wants to go back to Marieberg. I was sad when she moved out and I’m glad that she’s back, but… to leave Hillerska completely and go back to her old school? I thought that was the last thing she wanted. But she won’t explain more.”

Simon looked down at his lap. “She can do whatever she wants, she’s an adult now,” he muttered, his tone bitter.

Linda leaned forward, trying to get him to look at her. “Did something happen between you?”

Simon shrugged. “You should ask her about that. She’s responsible for her decisions.”

“Simon, por favor.”

“Mamá, no quiero hablar de eso. If you want to know, ask her. I don’t have to explain anything for her.”

With a loud huff, Linda stood up. “Bueno, está bien,” she said. “I know you’re overwhelmed right now, and I thought you both would be at Hillerska for lunch, so I didn’t make anything. Would you like me to fix you something to eat?”

Simon leaned his back against the wall. “Thanks, but no. I feel too ill. I have a headache.”

Linda promised to get him something for that, and offered him a cup of tea. He smiled and gave a tiny nod. 

Linda gave him an encouraging smile and caressed his face. “Todo va a estar bien, mi amor. Eres fuerte, Simon.”

She left, closing the door. Simon took off his jacket, leaving it at the foot of the bed, and curled up into fetal position.

You’re strong, Simon, she always told him. He was strong most of the time. But today he was a weak mess; he hated himself for it.

He still had Wilhelm’s orange sweater stashed under his pillow. Without even thinking about it, he pulled it out and buried his face in it, inhaling the lingering scent. It still smelled faintly like Wilhelm, but he yearned for the real thing. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that Wilhelm was beside him, curled up into him like they had been the morning before, waking up in each other’s arms again. 

He cursed himself when he started crying again, knowing that he would get tears and snot on the sweater, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wept into the soft fabric, until he was completely drained. 

When Linda came back in quietly with a steaming cup of chamomile tea, Simon was asleep, eyelashes still moist from unshed tears. 

Simon woke up to his phone buzzing. His head felt like it was about to explode. 

The only light in the room was from the fish tank. There was a lukewarm cup of chamomile tea, a glass of water and a paracetamol pill on his bedside table. He squinted when he turned on the bedside lamp, and reached for the water and pill, gulping them down. 

His phone buzzed again. He fished it out of the jacket pocket. 

He had 127 messages. Simon groaned and quickly scrolled though the list, reading the previews. He ignored most of them, from people he disliked or hadn’t talked to in a long time, who clearly came out of the woodwork when Wilhelm’s speech had gone viral. There was one from Sara, which she sent during the jubilee; the preview only said ‘I’m sorry, Simon’. He ignored it too.

There were a dozen from Rosh and Ayub each. There were also messages from Wilhelm. “Shit,” Simon said, opening them.

- 11:46 - Hey, are you not home yet, or maybe you forget to text me?

- 11:47 - It’s okay if you forgot. I just want to know you’re okay. Text me when you see this, please. 

- 12:29 - I’m almost in Stockholm now. I’ll call you, but now I’m thinking maybe you fell asleep? Not surprised, I slept most of the rest of the way. 

- 12:31 - Let me know when you see this, so I can call you. I don’t want to wake you up if you are sleeping.

Simon cursed again and quickly typed a reply:

- 12:40 - Sorry, yes, I fell asleep. I just saw this. I’m sorry. You can call me. 

He checked the messages from Rosh and Ayub. Apparently they had seen the videos of the speech on social media. They were asking if he was okay. Before he could type an answer, he had an incoming video call from Wilhelm. 

Simon jumped up and checked himself in the mirror; he looked awful. Nothing he could do about that now.

He pressed the answer button. Wilhelm’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hi,” he said, smiling. Seeing him, even through a screen, was like a balm. Wilhelm’s face lit up too.

“Hi, I literally just walked into my room,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I was just tired. I had a headache and fell asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t text.”

“No, it’s fine. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah, it was all the crying, I guess… How are you?”

Wilhelm had stopped walking around his room and sat down on the bed. “Um… well, the Royal Court is meeting without me. My mum told me to go to my room, like she didn’t want to deal with me right now. I didn’t argue with her, because she’ll have to have me in the meeting later, anyway, but right now I doubt she’ll listen to me, she’s too upset.”

“Oh,” Simon said, scratching his head. “But… what if she never asks you to be in the meeting?”

“She’ll give in, once she calms down. She’s always wanted me to participate, since I became the Crown Prince. She can’t shut me out now just because she’s mad at me.”

Simon bit his lip. He didn’t want to say what he feared: that Wilhelm wasn’t really taken to Stockholm to participate in the Royal Court meetings, but to be available to make a statement of their choice, to do another interview denying everything. 

But he trusted Wilhelm. Even though he felt scared.

“Is everything okay?” Wilhelm asked, watching him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Simon said. He wasn’t lying, he felt better now that he had slept a bit, and got to see Wilhelm. “You?”

“I have a headache too, I haven’t eaten anything, and I lost my appetite,” Wilhelm made a face. “It’s being here, it’s her, the way she just dismissed me like that.”

“Please eat something, and coffee doesn’t count.”

“I’ll try.”

Simon paced around his room venting about Sara, the conversation with Felice, and his mother asking him questions about it. 

“I don’t have to explain anything for her. She’s such a coward,” he said bitterly. He stopped and sat cross-legged on his bed, leaning against the wall. “I’m so mad. I don’t understand why she… whatever the reason, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her.”

Wilhelm looked thoughtful. “Just take it easy. Give it time.”

Simon scoffed. “Time? I’m guessing you were never betrayed by your brother.”

Wilhelm’s gaze dropped to his hands. Simon grimaced, wanting to kick himself. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Wilhelm replied, even thought he looked dismayed. “I get that you’re hurt, and you have every right to be angry at her… but she’s still your sister.”

“I know,” Simon wrinkled his nose. “Okay, I’m gonna change my clothes. I fell asleep in my uniform.”

“And I’m gonna get some coffee- I mean, food.”

“Me too. I haven’t eaten anything either.”

“Uh-huh, and how come you call me out about skipping meals when you’re doing the same?” Wilhelm asked, feigning indignation. Simon smiled wryly. 

“Because I only skipped lunch, but you have barely eaten anything in two days. It’s like you’re on a hunger strike.”

Wilhelm stuck his tongue out at him, before smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Simon said, smiling bigger. He felt a thrill every time they said ‘I love you’, even if it was only over a call. 

“Call me if you want to talk, no matter the time.”

“You too.” Simon paused. “Hey, um… thanks for not leaving me alone this time.”

Wilhelm gave him a sad smile. “It’s what I should have done the first time.”

“I don’t care anymore. I’m glad this time you did.”

The photographers hadn’t left. In fact they had multiplied.

The house remained dark. Linda peeked through the large window; the neighbors had called asking why there were over fifty people with cameras standing around the area. At least they weren’t at their front door anymore. Linda decided to call the police. 

Simon went back to his room and texted Felice that Sara was home, to which she simply replied with the upside-down smiling emoji and a ‘thank you’. Then he texted Rosh and Ayub, telling them that he was okay, all things considered. 

Less than a minute later his phone buzzed; Rosh and Ayub popped up on split-screen when he answered.

“Hey, bro. How are you feeling?” Ayub greeted him.

“You want us to come over so you can vent?” Rosh asked. “Ayub and I can stop for ice cream on our way.”

“Don’t come over,” Simon blurted out.

“Why not?” She asked.

Simon rubbed his face, exhausted. “There are… there’s a shit ton of photographers outside my house.”

“What?” Rosh exclaimed.

“What?” Ayub echoed. “You mean like paparazzi?”

“Simon, what the fuck? Is it because of the speech?” Rosh asked.

Simon told them the whole story. As he talked, he saw Ayub put his phone down and start looking for something on his computer.

“I thought about calling you guys for help, but I was tired and felt ill and I just wanted to come home, so I just kept walking.”

Ayub’s mouth fell open. “Fuck, there are paparazzi pictures of you all over Insta and Twitter.”

Simon instantly felt ill again. “What?” Ayub flipped his phone camera to show them his computer screen; multiple Instagram accounts had posted or reposted photos and video clips of him walking in his Hillerska uniform, his hand shielding his face. Some of them were taken from further away, but some were clearly taken inches from his face. 

“Shit,” he muttered. He didn’t know what he was expecting; of course all those thousands of photos from every angle that the photographers had taken would end up somewhere, but he guessed he didn’t expected them to be everywhere so soon. The photos were as invasive and unflattering as they had felt.

“There’s captions. ‘Simon Eriksson returns home alone after bombshell statement from Crown Prince boyfriend’. Shit, man, that’s really your front door! ‘Crown Prince’s boyfriend Simon Eriksson takes the bus back home after the Royal Family returns to Stockholm’. This is fucked up.”

“This has to be a violation of your rights or something!” Rosh stated. “Have you told Wille?” 

“No, I don’t want him to worry. He has other things in his mind,” Simon said, sitting on his bed. Rosh frowned.

“Fuck that, Simon! Come on! You have to tell him. This is his fault!”

“It’s not his fault!” Simon snapped, his voice louder than he intended. “It’s the fucking paparazzi’s fault. Why the fuck do they have to harass me at my own house?”

“But this is because of his speech! If he hadn’t done that, this wouldn’t be happening!” Rosh retorted.

“Rosh, fucking stop! Stop shitting on Wille! You’re not helping!” Simon shouted, getting angry. 

Rosh fell silent. Ayub’s camera flipped back to selfie-mode, his expression uncomfortable. Simon’s shoulders slumped. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sorry for yelling. I’m just so… ugh, this is so stressful. I hate everything. I feel trapped.”

“I’m sorry too,” Rosh said, looking bitter. “You’re right, it’s not his fault. But I still think you should tell him. He’s going to find out anyway, the pictures are everywhere. And how are you ever going to leave your house if the paparazzi don’t go away? Are they just going to follow you everywhere, and you just have to pretend like you don’t see them? Is this gonna be your life now?”

“Shit, I hope not,” Simon muttered. “You’re right, I should tell him.”

“Maybe he can get security people or something to come over and make them go away, or at least protect you,” Ayub suggested.

“Yeah, Simon, you have to take this seriously. What if they get violent or something, to try to get you to react? They do that, you know. You need protection. We don’t want to have to worry about you. Right?” Rosh said.

Ayub nodded. “Absolutely. That must have been really scary, and I’m guessing it’s not going to get better.”

“My mum is already calling the police,” Simon said. 

“Okay but still, tell Wille. He’d probably like to know if something’s going on,” Rosh said, adopting a gentler tone. “And next time call us if you need rescuing. Maybe this whole thing could have been avoided.”

“Yeah, bro. We could have had a whole speed chase-style getaway from the paparazzi. Like Lady Di.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “You know she died trying to get away from paparazzi, right?”

“Oh yeah, bad example,” Ayub said. 

“Nah, that was the British monarchy that took her out, wasn’t it? They wanted her dead,” Rosh pointed out.

“Seriously, Rosh? I’m gonna hang up now.”

“I’m telling ya!” Rosh exclaimed.

“Bye Simme!” Ayub said, waving through the screen, before Simon hung up. 

Simon woke up, startled by the vibration of his phone on his stomach. He fell asleep again shortly after talking to Rosh and Ayub. 

It was getting dark. He sat up and looked blearily at the screen. As soon as he answered, Wilhelm’s face popped up. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse. Wilhelm looked distressed.

“Why are there paparazzi pictures of you all over social media?!” he asked. Simon dropped his head back, frustrated.

“Fuck,” he muttered. 

“Simon, it looks like they’re right in your face! When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Simon rubbed his eyes. “I was going to tell you… I’m sorry… they were waiting for me outside of school… they followed me to the bus stop, I didn’t know what to do,” he groaned. “They just kept yelling questions and shoving cameras in my face and I just wanted to go home. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t look at them at all. But they followed me, right to my front door.”

Wilhelm’s eyes were wide, his mouth agape. “They followed you home? Simon, when you said you were on the bus on your way home, you didn’t mention you had just been harassed by paparazzi. And when I called you after I got to Stockholm and you were already home, you still… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I panicked… I didn’t want you to worry… And I thought they would go away…” he admitted, embarrassed.

“Of course I fucking worry! I- they- wait, are they still there?!”

Simon felt tears welling up in his eyes. He nodded. 

“How many?”

“I don’t know… about fifty, apparently?”

Wilhelm’s eyes were big as golfballs.

“FUCK!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t get away from them. I tried.”

“Simon, it’s not that they got you on camera, that’s not why I’m… it’s the fact that you were alone, and they were… they followed you. That’s not safe. You shouldn’t be harassed like that.” He was upset and horrified. “I’m so sorry. Fuck! This is my fault!”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes it is, I should have thought of this. I should have known that this could happen. And I could have prevented this, gotten someone to drive you home or… I was so caught up on… Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Wille, don’t. Please. I walked into them. I saw them, and I still kept going. I should have gone to the headmistress or something.”

”Well, yeah, but…” Wilhelm was sullen. “Yeah… you should have asked for help, or called me right away, but… still, I should have thought of this, and I should have made sure you didn’t have to go through that. I’m so sorry, Simon.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Can we just agree to be equally sorry?”

At least that got a smile out of Wilhelm. Simon admitted that the whole experience was a bit traumatizing, but he still didn’t tell Wilhelm about suffering a full panic attack in the bus. Wilhelm was horrified and said that it sounded like a horror film. 

“My mum called the police. I have no idea if they’re on their way or if they’re already here.” 

“Okay, let me know if the police get there,” Wilhelm said. “I’m going to talk to mum about it, see if we can send a security detail over to you. It’s the least we could do. We need to make sure they leave you alone. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too. Don’t worry, I’ll sort this out. Please stay safe.”

On TV, the story was making the rounds on local, national and even international news programs. 

Simon had ventured out of his room to grab a sandwich and sit in front of the TV in the living room. It was time to brave the coverage beyond social media; he’d already been on a downward spiral in his room, seeing every single paparazzi picture repeatedly, stills from the sex video and the speech video, and even photos that had been taken from his Instagram before he made his profile private; TikTok and Youtube videos of people analyzing Wilhelm’s speech and decrying the violation of their privacy; and tweet after tweet that caused the hashtag #CrownPrinceWilhelm to trend globally.

Sara was in her room, her door closed. Linda was in her room too, still on the phone either with the police or with neighbors; it seemed the police had come by whilst Simon slept, but said that there was not much they could do, since the photographers were not doing anything wrong, so she was going to try to file a report on the paparazzi pictures of Simon, considering he was still a minor. 

Simon sat by himself, flipping through the channels. Journalists were reporting live from outside Drottningholm palace, talking about the events since Wilhelm’s speech; every once in a while the same video reel would cycle through as news anchors spoke over it: edits from social media of the different angles captured by the few Hillerska students who recorded the speech, a short clip from the sex video (not surprising), footage of the cars carrying the Royal Family away from Hillerska, clips and pictures of Simon as he exited Hillerska, and videos of the paparazzi following him.

”Shit,” he muttered under his breath through a mouthful of sandwich.

“… celebration was cut short, and the Crown Prince returned to Drottningholm Palace here in Stockholm around midday today with the Queen and Prince Consort. No official Royal House statement has been issued as of yet, but the Office of Communications is expected to make a public statement some time tomorrow…” said a man in one channel. Simon switched to the next.

“… said that he had lied last year when he denied being in the video, because it had been a private moment that had been made public, but now decided to come clean about it…” a woman in the other channel was saying. Simon switched again.

“… assume that he is, or at least was, involved with the other boy who appears in the video, Simon Eriksson, a classmate at Hillerska…” a man in the other channel was saying over the paparazzi pictures and video of him. 

Simon muted the TV. Rosh and Ayub were in the group chat asking him if he had talked to Wilhelm, or if the paparazzi had left.  

He nearly dropped his phone when it started buzzing. Wilhelm’s disappointed face popped up on his screen.

“Hi,” Simon still greeted him with a smile.

“Hey,” Wilhelm said. He was lying in bed. “I’m sorry, I talked to my mum and… she says there’s nothing she can do.”

Simon knew that was probably going to be the answer, but his stomach still sank. “Oh, okay…”

“She says that security details are only for Royal family members,” Wilhelm explained, frowning. “I know she can actually do something, I know special security can be requested for other people, but she won’t do it. When I said that I could go to your house and my security guards might make the photographers go away, she… she shouted at me that I was not going anywhere. Maybe I am being held hostage,” he added bitterly. “I tried requesting the security detail myself, but the Royal Court says that my mum has the final word in the matter. I asked Malin and Joakim if they could go back to Bjärstad and protect you if I requested it, but they said that they’re not allowed to protect anyone else but me, and that orders would have to come from the Royal Court.”

Simon should have known. The Queen and the Royal Court didn’t like him, they didn’t like that he had anything to do with Wilhelm. They wouldn’t do anything that meant attracting attention to the fact that they were together. 

Were they together? They had barely been reunited for a whole day when they had been wrenched apart again.

“It’s okay, Wille. Thank you for trying. It’ll be fine, I’m sure they’ll go away at some point, and things will calm down.”

“Did the police at least come?”

“Yeah, but but they said that they can’t do much, since photographers are not disrupting public order, or blocking traffic, or trespassing on private property, or doing anything wrong. My mum is still talking to them.”

Wilhelm rubbed his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Simon offered a small smile. 

“Don’t worry. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Maybe tomorrow they will all be gone.”

“Yeah, maybe… I just really wish I could help you… I wish my mum cared at least a little…” 

“I understand if she can’t do anything-”

“No, Simon, it’s not that she can’t do anything, she won’t, because she doesn’t care. She doesn’t even care about me, so sure, why would she care about you?”

“She does care about you, Wille.” 

“I doubt it.”

“Your mum loves you,” Simon said, because that was the thing he should say in this moment, but he honestly didn’t know. Did the Queen love her son? She was his mother, of course she loved him… didn’t she?

“Wow, if this is how she shows me love, I’d hate to be disliked by her,” Wilhelm chuckled mirthlessly. His eyes were glistening with tears. “You should have seen the way she looked at me. She treated me like I was hysterical. I wasn’t. Sure, I was anxious and urgent, but I asked politely, I said I was concerned about your safety… and she still turned me away, like I was asking, demanding something too big,” he scoffed. “It’s like she wants to teach me a lesson. She said ‘what did you expect to happen’ like I should just suck it up and deal with it. And she… she calls you ‘that boy’, like she doesn’t know your name. Like she refuses to say it.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you get caught in our fucking drama. I hate this. I hate everything.”

“It’s okay… don’t stress about it. Maybe it’s too soon. Like you said, maybe she needs time,” Simon said, unsure. Wilhelm let out a deep sigh and sat up on his bed. He propped his head up on his elbow, his hand half-covering his face. 

“We’re both trapped,” he mumbled into his hand. “I guess I wouldn’t mind being trapped if at least we were together.”

“I agree,” Simon hummed. “I wish you could be here.”

“Me too, but I have to be here to attend the Royal Court meetings. Oh, wait, I’m not even doing that,” Wilhelm said sardonically, rolling his eyes. “If anything I wish you were here with me, I should have smuggled you in the trunk of the car.”

Simon chuckled. “For a two hour drive? Is that how you would treat your boyfriend?”

Wilhelm’s face lit up, and Simon felt his cheeks warm. He couldn’t remember if they had ever referred to each other as ‘boyfriends’. They hadn’t talked about it, but it felt pretty natural all of a sudden. It was thrilling on the one hand, and sad on the other, that the first time he was aware of using the word, it was in this situation, far from each other. But he couldn’t help smiling at Wilhelm’s reaction. 

“If it were up to me, we wouldn’t even be here or there. We’d be somewhere far away, somewhere nice and warm, just you and me,” Wilhelm said. Simon smiled bigger, forgetting momentarily that that was a pipe dream. 

“That sounds nice,” he said anyway. Wilhelm smiled, then looked to the side of the screen. Someone was talking to him.

“I have to go, my dad’s here,” he said after a pause. “I will be back soon, no matter what.” 

“I hope so.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Simon shut off the call, feeling a bit better. About sixty new messages came in while he was on the phone. Simon groaned; he started blocking people and deleting message threads.

He came across Sara’s message again and deleted it. Whatever she had to say to him, whatever lame explanation and apology she wanted to offer him, she could very well come out of her room and say it to his face. 

Simon barely slept that night. He kept hearing things, being hyper-aware of any noise, and thinking that someone was trying to get inside the house. Whenever he managed to almost fall asleep, he’d have lucid dreams; Wilhelm laying next to him in bed, waking up next to each other, but then he’d become aware that it wasn’t real, it was just a memory, and he’d wake up and he’d be alone. He tried using the sweater to trick his mind, to pretend that Wilhelm was there, but he was too restless and anxious, so it didn’t work. Tired and frustrated, he cried himself to sleep for a measly hour of actual rest. When he woke up, it wasn’t light out yet, so he just lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. 

In the morning, the photographers were still around. Their numbers had dwindled during the night; the few that remained overnight had slept in cars parked in the distance, according to one of the neighbors. But they all came back.  

Linda called the school to inform them that Simon and Sara would miss class that day, and the clinic to excuse herself from work, refusing to leave them alone. Their names and their house were plastered all over the news, so lying and saying they were all sick was out of the question. Instead she explained that there were ‘circumstances beyond their control that didn’t allow them to leave the house for the day’, which was a vague way of saying that paparazzi kept them under siege at home.

Simon felt sorry that his mother had to miss work. However, he didn’t feel sorry about not staying home alone with Sara; he also didn’t lament not going to school and being scrutinized by his classmates and possibly having to put up with a lot of questions, to which he didn’t even know the answers. Besides, Wilhelm wouldn’t be there. 

Sara came out of her room to put her empty bowl of oatmeal in the kitchen sink and promptly went back inside. Simon had barely seen her since yesterday, and she hadn’t spoken another word in his presence since; as far as he knew she had barely left her room. 

Simon spent most of the day in bed, dozing off, occasionally watching the news and going through social media. Reporters were interviewing people in the growing crowd outside of Drottningholm palace; LGBTQ+ groups gathered with signs and rainbow flags, asking if the Royal Court were hiding Wilhelm for coming out, and demanding that both he and Simon should be protected. On Twitter, people were questioning if the Swedish monarchy would ever accept a queer crown prince. 

Simon stared at the live feed from Stockholm, wondering where in Drottningholm palace could Wilhelm be. Somewhere inside that massive building there was a sad prince sitting alone in his room.

Felice texted him later; she had seen the paparazzi pictures on social media, but hadn’t realized it was so bad that he couldn’t leave his house. Simon told her that it was much like the video all over again. 

- 8:40 - Wilhelm says he feels like a hostage in his house too, Simon texted.

- 8:42 - Yeah, I know… we texted a bit this morning and he said the same thing, Felice replied. 

- 8:45 - Things will probably calm down once the Royal House issues a statement, she added. 

That did not appease him; he worried what that statement, whenever it finally came out, would say. 

Wilhelm called him later, to tell him that he had been bypassed for the morning meeting as well.

“I told Jan-Olof that I want to be in the meetings, but I’m not going until my mum asks me herself to come. And she hasn’t,” he stated dejectedly. He looked just as tired as Simon; his eyes were puffy, with dark circles underneath. “She doesn’t care that I’m not at the meeting, she doesn’t want me there. So what’s the point? She won’t listen even if I’m there. But if I go to the meeting uninvited or just leave and go back to Hillerska, either way she’ll claim that I’m proving her right, that I haven’t changed, that I’m still impulsive and temperamental and incapable of controlling my emotions. It’s not fair, because she’s the one being temperamental right now.”

Simon felt sick. How long was this going to go on for? 

“Wille, what if they put out a statement without your consent? What if they claim that it’s from you?”

“They won’t. If they put out anything that I didn’t approve, I’ll just go live on social media and make my own statement. There are people protesting outside the palace, saying that they think I’m being hidden away because the Royal Court wants to deny that I’m queer,” Wilhelm said. “They need me. It’s just a matter of time for her to realize that they can’t make this go away. Not without me,” Wilhelm reassured him. It sounded like he was also trying to reassure himself. 

Simon told him about his restless night, and Wilhelm admitted that he too barely slept that night. 

“I had a nightmare,” he said. “I came back to Bjärstad, and I went to your house to find you, but you were gone. So were Linda and Sara, and all your stuff. The house was empty. And I knew that you had been taken, but I didn’t know where or by whom, and I didn’t know what to do. I had the horrible feeling that I would never see you again. Then August appeared, and he said something like ‘yeah,  that’s been taken care of’, like he was behind it, and I was about to hit him, but there was an invisible… thing protecting him. And then it was dark and I was alone, and I walked back to Hillerska but I had to go through the forest, and someone or something was chasing me… and then I woke up. And I couldn’t go back to sleep at all.”

Like Simon, Wilhelm spent most of the day in bed. He had started writing a journal, a suggestion from Boris, which he joked would be useful when he wrote his memoirs in the future and had to look back at the worst episodes of his life. Simon asked him about his therapy sessions with Boris, and Wilhelm’s face turned pink as he told him as much as he could; how and why he started going, and how it was working out so far; it wasn’t just because his mother asked him to go, because Wilhelm himself knew that he had to deal with his anxiety and anger, before they exploded in his face. And he couldn’t work those issues out on his own.

“I mean, you saw me, I felt so sick that I had to leave in the middle of class and throw up in my room, I held a gun to August’s head, and I had a panic attack after the speech. All in one weekend. I’m a nutcase,” Wilhelm gave a self-deprecating chuckle.

“You’re not a nutcase,” Simon reassured him. “You simply didn’t know how to deal with these things, how to talk about them.”

“And everything about last year… I just got worse,” Wilhelm said sadly. “But I don’t want to feel sick and anxious and angry all the time anymore.” 

“And you shouldn’t. I’m glad you finally did something about it.” 

“I still have a way to go, but… I’m glad I did too,” Wilhelm said, smiling. “You know, if it hadn’t been for you and Boris, I maybe wouldn’t have dared to do that. At the jubilee, I mean.”

Simon felt something warm but painful in his chest. He wanted to kiss and hug Wilhelm, and it hurt that he couldn’t, that they were so far apart. He felt an overwhelming longing in his whole body.

Wilhelm went quiet for a long moment.  

“Was it a mistake? To change the speech? I mean, to do it in front of everybody? Should I not have done that?” He asked, looking suddenly lost. Simon breathed deeply.

“I think it’s pointless to think about that, because you can’t undo it, but well, Felice thought it was romantic, and I agree,” he chuckled, blushing a little, making Wilhelm smile. “I also think that, when you follow your heart, you can’t make mistakes.”

He gazed at Wilhelm through the screen. “But I really meant it, Wille, that we could be together in secret. I just want to be with you. I hadn’t realized how complicated it can be, but… being with you in any form is definitely better than not being with you at all.”

Wilhelm smiled sadly. “I agree. But… I realized I didn’t want that for us: for one thing, who’s to say that my mother would have kept that promise? I think she hoped that something might happen before we turn eighteen that would change things, like you getting tired of being a secret. And I think she still hopes that I will eventually ‘grow out of it’, that this is just a phase.” He looked hurt. “Also, you don’t deserve to be a secret. I don’t want that, I don’t want us to be secret.”

Simon raised an eyebrow and smiled. “So you shouted it from the rooftops. Or rather a podium, into a microphone, in front of a crowd and cameras,” he said. Wilhelm blushed.

“Just that one time,” he retorted, then became serious again. “That wasn’t so much for dramatic purposes, but to make sure that no one can pretend like it didn’t happen. It’s not that I want the world knowing every detail about us, I don’t want to be public about our relationship and for people to watch like it’s entertainment. But it’s not fair that others get to just be themselves, and I have to hide…? I don’t want to hide. I don’t want us to be a secret, and I don’t want us to be in the spotlight… I just want us to be… us.”

Simon wanted to kiss him so bad it hurt. “I want that too,” he said, his voice breaking a little. 

Around midday, they were on video call again. Wilhelm had texted Farima asking her about the progress of the meeting, wanting to know when he could go back to Hillerska. 

“My mum told Farima to tell me that I could go home whenever I please,” he scoffed. “Then what was the point of bringing me here? I’m this close to leaving for real. But I bet if I do, she’ll use that against me somehow, she’ll claim that I don’t care about my role as Crown Prince. But if I don’t leave, then I’m just trapped here waiting for them to decide stuff for me. Either way I’m fucked.”

“What are you gonna do, then?” Simon asked. He was stretched across the floor of his bedroom staring up at Wilhelm in his phone.

“I don’t know… I kind of want to barge into the meeting. But I really hoped that she would ask me to come, that she would talk to me… But I don’t think she wants to… she won’t listen to me, it’s like she can’t even look at me…”

Simon wished he could cheer him up. Wilhelm promised that he ate a bit of soup for lunch, but confessed that that was about it.

“That’s okay, I don’t have much appetite either,” Simon replied.

Linda tried coddling him a little. She came into his room and sat beside him on the bed and stroked his curls.

“Mi amor, ¿quieres algo? ¿Sodita, galletitas, juguito…?” she offered in a sweet voice, much like she had when Simon was cooped up at home when the video was leaked, and when he found out about the interview with Wilhelm denying the video. It was an unpleasant reminder. 

That wasn’t going to happen this time, he told himself. Wilhelm wouldn’t do that again. Not after everything they had gone through. Not after getting another chance.  

“No, gracias,” he replied in a tired voice. “I’m just going to bed soon.”

Linda worried about them not being able to leave the house again tomorrow, wondering how long this would go on. She talked to herself aloud, pondering the different options that she could try: a lawyer, a local government official, social services, anything.

“¿Y cómo está Wille?” She asked. 

Simon glanced at his phone. They had been talking on the phone all day, texting, calling each other, seeing each other by video call; but the more they tried to stay in touch, the harder it was for Simon to ignore the distance, the circumstances keeping them apart. And he knew how hard it was for Wilhelm too. He just wanted to reach through the screen and hold him, feel him.

”I’m worried about him,” Simon muttered. “He’s under a lot of pressure. And he’s all alone. I don’t know what to do. I wish I could help him. I wish I could… make it all go away.”

“Yo sé, mi amor,” Linda said, petting his hair tenderly. Simon started crying, letting himself be comforted by his mother. 

Simon had lost track of time, but he was sure it was much earlier than he thought. Still, he and Wilhelm were both in their respective beds, falling asleep on the phone. They were exhausted, despite not doing anything all day, just coping with the stress and the uncertainty.

“I’m so tired. I just want to sleep, and wake up and for all of this to be over,” Wilhelm mumbled into the pillow. He was lying on his side, his phone propped on another pillow. Simon lay on his side as well, mirroring Wilhelm, to pretend that they were on the same bed, side by side, looking at each other. His phone rested against the side of his bedside table. He had the red light on. 

“I have a plan,” he announced with a mischievous smile, “to rescue you: Rosh and Ayub create a distraction, and I sneak out of the house and steal a photographer’s car, and drive to Stockholm. I don’t know how to drive though, but I’ll figure it out. I pick you up and we run off to Spain. I speak Spanish, so we’ll be fine. You become a truffle hunter and I work as a flamenco singer. Or we open a tapas bar. When we’re older, we’ll have a vineyard. You will probably have to go by Guillermo, though, which is the Spanish version of your name.”

Wilhelm laughed. They stared at each other through heavy-lidded eyes, fighting to stay awake. 

“I’m coming back tomorrow, no matter what,” Wilhelm said, talking slowly and quietly. “I want to come home. I don’t want to be here anymore… And I just want to see you, I just want to be with you…” He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “I’m just worried that, if I leave, it’s going to make it worse… I don’t know what to do about the Royal Court, and I don’t know what to do about the photographers outside your house… What if everything blows up when I leave? What if they try to drag me out of Hillerska again?” 

“In that case, I steal Jan-Olof’s car and we go to Spain,” Simon joked. Wilhelm chuckled again, but quickly became sad again.

“This was an absolute waste of time… She makes me come here, and then she doesn’t even want to see me. Does she even give a shit about me? I don’t know what I was expecting… I don’t know what I was hoping for…”

Simon didn’t say anything. Wilhelm didn’t want his boyfriend reassuring him that his mother loved him, he just wanted to vent. If anything, he needed his mother to reassure him that she loved him, that she did care about him. Simon couldn’t do that for her. All he could do was listen right now.

Wilhelm’s eyes glistened in the dim light. “I know I said that they support me… that’s what my mum told me, at least, but… I don’t think she does. I think my dad’s a bit more okay with it, we haven’t really talked about it, but it feels like maybe he is. But my mum… if she says she supports me coming out, it might just be to protect the Crown’s image, but… I think she wishes that I wasn’t queer…”

A tear slid out of his eyes and ran across the bridge of his nose. Simon felt his throat tightening and his eyes becoming misty. 

“I always felt like she loved Erik more… he was everything that she wanted, or at least what she needed him to be. And I was this… this kid she had to put up with, because she needed to have a spare… I know that we often clash because of how I am and because of how she is, so it’s always been difficult for us to get along, but she’s my mother and I love her, and I need her… but when Erik… when I became Crown Prince, it was… like a chore for her, to try to guide me into the role, knowing that I would never be as perfect as Erik…” He gulped, more tears sliding out of his eyes and onto the pillow. “So for me to turn out to be queer, I think that’s the last drop for her… I get that maybe it’s hard for her, but… she acts like I’m inconveniencing her, like I’m doing this on purpose to… upset her or something… and for her to make August my backup, knowing what he did to me, to us, knowing what he’s like… it’s like she’s trying to punish me…”

He closed his eyes, and a shuddering breath escaped him. “I know it was hard for her to lose Erik, because… fuck… it was hard for me too… but… I was kind of hoping that some of her… affection for him, would transfer to me somewhat, make things at least a bit different between us… I’m the only son she has left, you know, but… I think that maybe she only loves me because she’s my mother, and she kind of has to love me, but beyond that…”

Simon wiped his own eyes with the back of his hand, although his pillow was already soaked with tears. 

He had always wanted Wilhelm to be honest with him; he realized that Wilhelm had likely never been this candid about his feelings, because of his upbringing. But listening to him now made it more evident why it had always been so hard for him to be honest about his feelings; because it was probably not cathartic at all. It was simply coming face to face with them, but not being able to change anything. 

More than anything, he hoped that Wilhelm was wrong. 

Simon couldn’t imagine growing up like that, feeling like Linda loved Sara more than him, feeling like his older sister’s spare and nothing more. And he didn’t want to imagine what it would be like for Linda not to love him, not accept him as he was. 

Maybe Linda simply had more time to adjust, since Simon had been out longer; or maybe it was just harder for Wilhelm’s mum because of what it meant for the monarchy. Or maybe Wilhelm was wrong, maybe his mother did love him, no matter what, and she simply didn’t show it very effectively. The fact of the matter was that Wilhelm grew up feeling unloved. 

It wasn’t fair.

Simon fought to stay awake, staring at Wilhelm’s face. Wilhelm had already drifted off to sleep.

“I love you,” he whispered, even if Wilhelm didn’t hear him or say it back. He cried softly to himself, watching Wilhelm’s sleeping face, until he finally dozed off too. 

When Simon woke up, the screen of his phone was black. It was eleven at night. He reached for the phone; the call had been ended by Wilhelm around four hours earlier, about an hour after they had both fallen asleep.

He checked his messages. Surely enough, he had messages from Wilhelm. He read them and smiled.

- 7:17 - My mum just woke me up to talk. I’ll call you in the morning. I love you 

- 9:15 - Hey, we’ll talk in the morning, but it went better than I expected. 

- 9:16 - Minou will contact your mum about security escorting you to school tomorrow, so be ready. 

- 9:18 - I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I think everything is going to be okay. 

- 9:18 - I’ll talk to you after the meeting in the morning. I love you. *heart emoji* 

In the morning, Linda got a call from Minou, that lady in the Royal Court, to let her know the names of the security personnel that would come by the Eriksson house to pick up Simon, the time, the make and model of the car, etc. 

Simon’s stomach was in knots in the morning. Linda looked equally nervous as she made breakfast, which Simon was too nauseated to eat, so she put some fruit and yogurt in his backpack for later. 

Sara was refusing to go to school that day, so Linda was arguing with her in her room when the car arrived. Through the closed blinds and curtains he could still see the bursts of white light from the camera flashes, and he heard voices telling the photographers to back off. The doorbell rang.

Linda rushed out of Sara’s room, exasperated, saying in very fast Spanish that Sara was refusing to go to school and that maybe he could convince her to come with him in the car. She called out to the people outside that she was coming. 

“Mamá, she can do whatever she wants, it’s not my problem right now,” Simon said. Linda threw up her arms. 

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two, or why you both refuse to tell me about it, but I sincerely hope you work it out. You can’t be mad at each other forever. You’re supposed to support each other.”

Simon rolled his eyes and put on his purple hoodie and slung on his backpack. Under different circumstances he would have been sardonic, but he didn’t have time for Sara’s shit right now. He was jittery and stressed; he was about to step out of his home, into a strange car, surrounded by strangers, and possibly be sieged by a horde of photographers again. He started to sweat and shiver at the mere thought of it. His palms were clammy. Maybe he was traumatized. 

His mother put on a brave smile and pulled him into a hug. “Mi amor, please call me if you need me,” she said. “Please talk to the headmistress if you need anything. Just… be safe, okay? Te quiero.”

“Yo también te quiero,” he said.

Linda opened the door, and a large blond man in a dark suit stepped right in front of them, presumably to hide them from view of the photographers. Two other people in suits, a dark-skinned man and a dark-haired white woman, were by the car, which was blocking the path to the house, and were keeping the photographers at bay. 

“Mr. Eriksson,” the man greeted him stoically, and Simon nodded in response. The man introduced himself as Kurt, showed them his ID and informed Linda that they would contact her when Simon arrived at Hillerska safely. He instructed her to close the door as soon as they left, then told Simon to put his hood up and to follow his instructions. 

Simon was breathing hard as he stepped out. Kurt put a hand on his shoulder and led him toward the black car with dark tinted windows. Camera flashes went off in rapid succession, but he kept his head down, and Kurt kept his other hand up in front of Simon’s face, to shield him and block the cameras. He heard the photographers yelling questions, but he was focused on Kurt. 

It felt like it took forever to reach the car, but suddenly Kurt was guiding him into the backseat door. The woman slid into the backseat beside Simon, while the men got in the front. Simon wondered how Kurt would be able to drive with all the flashing lights, but the windows of the car were so dark that it didn’t bother them. He kept his hood up, just in case, looking down, trying to calm down. His hands trembled in his lap, but as they drove away, and the photographers fruitlessly chased after them, he felt better. 

Wilhelm texted him at that instant. Simon looked at his phone and smiled despite feeling ill.

- 8:01 - I’m officially in the Royal Court meeting. Hope everything went well. Text me when you get to school. I love you. 

He should have known that people at school would be weird.

Headmistress Lilja was waiting for him when he arrived, mollycoddling him, asking if he was okay, saying that her door is always open and that he can always ask for her help with anything and so on. 

Unfortunately many saw him arrive in a black, tinted windows car and escorted by security and welcomed and fussed at by the headmistress, so it spread through the school like a wildfire. 

Felice seemed to be the only one who wasn’t weird, although she did hug him when she met him outside their first class; it was still a bit odd being so friendly with her. But at least it was someone to talk to, someone who knew the whole story. 

Especially when Sara showed up. Simon was sure she had managed to convince Linda to let her stay at home, but there she was. She must have left the house as soon as the car drew all of the photographers away, and caught the bus in time. 

Sara walked past them into the classroom, head down, eyes averted, as if trying to get by unnoticed. Simon glared at her for a moment, then ignored her. Felice looked annoyed. “Do you want to sit together?” She asked, and he nodded immediately.

Their classmates had no chill, however. Everyone stared when he came in, and either greeted him or turned to whisper to each other. He clenched his jaw as he took his seat next to Felice. He glanced over at Sara; she sat next to Alexander, who also looked mildly unwell upon Simon’s arrival.  

“Hey, you’re back!” Henry exclaimed, patting Simon on the back. Simon waved his hand, his smile tight, but the interaction didn’t end there. Everyone nonchalantly crowded around him in a sort of huddle.

“We heard you were abducted by the monarchy,” Henry said. Stella smacked him on the back of the head.

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened,” Simon responded dryly. 

“Wait, really?” Henry asked, mildly shocked. Simon shot him a look, and everyone rolled their eyes. Stella smacked him again.

“Why are you so dumb? He’s obviously being sarcastic, and also you saw the paparazzi pictures and the videos of his house surrounded by them,” Walter said.

Henry shrugged. “I thought maybe that was before he was abducted. So Wille wasn’t with you?”

“Wille is in Stockholm, dumbass,” Stella quipped from behind them. 

“When is he coming back?” Lukas asked.

Is he coming back?” Walter asked skeptically.

“Is he okay? Are you okay?” Madison asked, the only one who sounded actually concerned.

“So are you guys a couple now?” Fredrika quipped enthusiastically.

“Fredrika, don’t ask personal questions,” Felice snapped.

“I’m just curious. I mean, what Wille said is all over the Internet, but what did he even mean? What does it mean for you and him?”

“It’s still none of our business,” Felice said.

Simon wished he had stayed home. His eyes drifted to Sara again. It was strange not talking to her. 

He wished Wilhelm were there. He was finally included in a Royal Court meeting, so he probably wouldn’t hear from him for a while, and it was both nerve-wracking and disheartening. 

He felt odd, adrift.

Simon knew that people were talking about him, about Wilhelm, about him and Wilhelm. Surely they had been talking about them since Sunday and by now should be sick of them and moving on to the next thing. But now that he was back, the fire was rekindled;  people stared at him wherever he went, people would be talking about it and becoming quiet when they saw him, some people were uncharacteristically nice and polite to him.

In the library he overheard a group of second year boys and girls murmuring in the next aisle, unaware that he was within earshot.

“… not put out a statement yet, what do you think that means?”

“It’s like he went mental. What was up with that speech?”

“And is he even coming back? That other kid, Simon, is back.”

“Did you see the photos? What the fuck? They followed him to his house and just parked there for two days? Fucking creepy.”

“I saw him arrive today in a black car surrounded by security.”

“Wait, what? They escort him now? What does that mean?”

“It might mean that that speech was way a bigger deal than we thought, then.”

“So what are they, like a couple now? When did that even happen?”

“Excellent question. I thought they only hooked up that once. Which by the way, getting caught on video… that sucks.” 

“But how is that even going to work? Them being a couple, I mean.”

“That’s what they’re saying in the news and on Twitter. Is the monarchy even going to accept the Crown Prince marrying a boy?”

“Marrying? They’re babies! I seriously doubt they’re thinking about that right now. ”

“Well the monarchy probably has to think about everything, including that.” 

“It’s ridiculous. If they‘re even together at all, and I’m guessing maybe they are then, then it’s been a very short time.”

“A few months, surely, we just didn’t know about it.” 

“But that’s nothing! Anything could change at any time, they’re only kids.”

“I know, right? What do they even know about relationships?”

“Oh, says the weathered and experienced adult.”

“Fuck off, Sanna.”

Simon left the library quietly. At least they weren’t saying anything mean. But hearing people gossiping about him and Wilhelm was unsettling.

He headed to the Forest Ridge dining hall for lunch and paused to let someone else through, then looked up. It was August.

How he had failed to recognize the lanky third year towering over him was beyond him, but obviously August was lost in his own thoughts and failed to notice him too. 

Whatever his face was doing, Simon guessed his expression was unfriendly enough to make August look away. The older boy awkwardly gestured for him to go first. Simon didn’t move, so August hesitated before ambling into the dining hall. 

Simon felt his face grow hot, his jaw tense, and his stomach flip. The events from Saturday came flooding back; the way that August had looked so smug at him, before Wilhelm made him kneel and held him at gunpoint, the sound of the gunshot in the air echoing through the field, Wilhelm shouting, and Sara’s miserable voice… 

He started trembling with rage.

“Hey,” a voice interrupted his spiraling. Simon looked up at Nils, who stood in front of him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” Simon said flatly. 

“You look like you’re about to snap.”

“I’m fine.”

“Look, I get it, these past couple of days must have been tough. And people won’t let it go. It’s probably a lot.”

Simon frowned at him. Past couple of days? People really didn’t know, they literally had no idea, that it had now been months of hell, from the night the video appeared everywhere, to Wilhelm denying it, to breaking up, to spending all of winter break not being able to stop thinking about Wilhelm, to seeing him again in January and trying to get over him and failing fantastically, to almost getting back together only for August to sabotage everything, to Sara… This was only the continuation of all of that. But he wasn’t about to explain it to one of August’s friends.

“No, you don’t get it,” Simon simply stated, walking past Nils into the dining hall. 

His phone buzzed with an incoming text message during lunch. Simon stopped playing with his food and read it. A huge smile split his face. 

- 12:30 - I’m coming back later today‼! Do you think you could stay at Hillerska until I get back? I really want to be able to tell you everything in person. We can drive you home afterwards.

- 12:32 - It’s okay if you can’t. Although I’ll probably go nuts if I don’t get to see you soon. *meltdown emoji*

Simon felt a jolt of electricity go through his body.

- 12:33 - YES. Of course I’ll stay. *heart emoji* I can’t wait to see you too. 

- 12:33 - *heart emoji* *heart emoji*, Wilhelm replied.

His focus really went out the window, thinking about seeing Wilhelm at the end of the day. He was still uneasy, though. Wilhelm’s text made it sound like he had good news, but Simon didn’t want to get his hopes up. He told Felice the news and she reassured him, saying she had a good feeling about it. 

The rest of the day felt insufferably long. Someone must have overheard him and Felice talking, and by his last class, most people had already heard that Wilhelm was coming back, so he kept getting asked about it. The only thing that kept him going were Wilhelm’s little updates throughout the day: the meeting is almost over! I’m going to my room to pack as fast as I can‼ I’m almost done packing… I finished packing‼! I’m heading downstairs to say goodbye to my parents… All punctuated with a flurry of heart emojis. His corniness was endearing. 

After his last class, he headed to the library for some peace and quiet, to kill time while he waited for Wilhelm. He walked past the picnic tables. Sara had been sitting by herself at one of them and stood up when she spotted him. His smile faded.

“Hey,” she said, sounding breathless, even though she had been sitting down. Like she had been psyching herself up to approach him, and yet she could barely hold his gaze. Simon stared at her.

“I need to talk to you,” she added.

He was quiet. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something, anything. But he just stared at her.

“Simon?” Sara said tentatively. “I… please?”

“I’m waiting. Talk.”

His voice was sharp, impatient. She bit her lip and pushed her hair nervously behind her ear. 

“Well… I… I think we should probably talk at home,” she stammered.

“I’m not going home,” he responded. She looked flummoxed. 

“What?”

“Didn’t you hear? Wille’s getting back today, so I’m gonna stay here and wait for him.”

“Oh.”

“So I guess whatever you have to say will have to wait.”

She shuffled from one foot to the other. 

“It’s… it’s important,” she mumbled.

“Is it? I’m not sure if we agree on what is important anymore,” he sneered. “For example, I thought I was important to you.”

Her lower lip trembled, and huge tears welled up in her eyes. 

“Simon, please,” she said softly. He felt his own eyes begin to fill with hot angry tears. 

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Not now, he told himself. Instead he gave a loud sigh and his shoulders slumped. 

“Do you remember when you told me to stop giving people a chance?” He asked, glaring at her through narrowed eyes, even when her face was wet with tears, even when she looked miserable. “Thanks for the advice,” he managed to get out, his voice breaking.

A couple of second years walked past them, staring not very subtly. Simon looked away, unnerved.

“Simon…” she begged. Simon shook his head. Not now. Not right now. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said flatly, walking away, before she could get a chance to see him cry. 

It felt like time slowed down. Simon was alone in the library, staring at the texts from Wilhelm.

- 4:05 - I’m on my way! *confetti emoji*

- 4:06 - We’re gonna stop on the way to get food. We can skip the dining hall and eat in my room and talk. What are you in the mood for?

Simon wasn’t in the mood for anything, he felt a little sick again after his encounter with Sara. 

He had texted his mum to let her know that he was staying, and she informed him that the photographers had mostly vanished, after he left for school; only one or two lingered, probably hoping to capture him when he was supposed to return home. 

He felt overall sick about everything, about the photographers, about the news and social media incessantly talking about him and Wilhelm, about people gossiping about them around every corner, about Sara, about August, about the Royal Court, about not knowing what was going to happen now.

All he wanted was to be with Wilhelm. All he wanted was for everyone to leave them alone, let them be. 

- 4:10 - I don’t know. Whatever you like, I’m good, he texted in response.

There was a beat, and Wilhelm wrote back. 

- 4:12 - Is everything okay? 

No, everything was not okay. He hadn’t slept well, he was tired and nauseated. 

Everything felt too big and tumultuous and he didn’t know how to deal with any of it. He felt anxious and scared and lonely and lost. 

But then he remembered Wilhelm at the podium, the way he looked back at Simon and smiled. And Simon smiled to himself.

- 4:13 - Just hurry up and get here‼! *heart emoji*

He wasn’t keeping a secret from Wilhelm. Because every time he felt like things were not okay, he just needed to remember that they loved each other, and that made him hopeful, that no matter how bad things could get, everything would be okay in the end, as long as they had each other. 

- 4:13 - *heart emoji* *heart emoji* *heart emoji* *heart emoji* *heart emoji* Wilhelm replied.

Simon chuckled to himself as he plugged his headphones into his phone and put on a music playlist. The library was deserted and quiet enough that he might be able to nap if he really tried. So he set an alarm to wake him up in two hours, then folded his arms on the table and laid his head on them. 

If it was going to feel like forever before Wilhelm got there, he might as well try to sleep.  

The school was deserted. Simon walked around the halls, the classrooms, the library, the grounds, but found no one. There was absolutely nobody around, no students, no teachers, no staff… he was all alone… 

He walked to the main door, looking for Wilhelm, because he knew he should have been there by now. For whatever reason he kept going, right out of the main door and through the gate, and all the way down the road, past the bus stop… To his relief, there were no photographers waiting for him, but he felt like he was being watched…

He kept walking, not knowing where he was going, feeling, hoping that somewhere along the way he would meet Wilhelm. And as he went, a feeling of dread filled him, like he was lost. He couldn’t recognize anything around him, it was forest all around, and he didn’t know where he would end up, or how he would be able to find his way again…

Deep down he knew that whoever was watching him was behind it, someone who wanted to make sure that he got lost and remained lost.

He trembled, with cold, with fear, he didn’t know for sure. Despite feeling tired and scared, he kept going. 

Somehow he was back at Hillerska again. He walked through the gate, and saw him. Wilhelm was standing near the entrance, looking around for him. Simon smiled in relief and called his name, but Wilhelm didn’t hear him. Simon tried calling him again, and again, but to no avail. He walked toward him but got nowhere near. He started running, but it was like he was running on mud, unable to propel himself forward. And Wilhelm kept looking for him, unable to see him…

He was breathing hard and fast, terrified, and there was a ringing in his ear, like he was having a panic attack…

Simon woke up with a start, breathing hard. The ringing in his ears was the alarm that had gone off in his headphones. His neck hurt from falling asleep hunched over the table. He turned off the alarm and looked around. The library was still empty. 

He groaned, frustrated and in pain. With trepidation, he looked through his text messages. There was a message from Wilhelm twenty minutes earlier saying he was almost to Linköping, where he hoped to get good food, and promising it wouldn’t take long.

Simon sighed with relief, and then his chest tightened and he felt like crying. He was weary from feeling tense, stressed and bracing for the worst. Why was he always bracing for the worst?

It wasn’t just the events of the past days, or even from that year; it wasn’t even just what had happened since the video had appeared everywhere. It was everything that had happened since Wilhelm had appeared in his life. 

He had been fine, adjusting to a new school despite how different he was from the elite kids in his class, realizing that he would always be treated like an outsider. But he was fine with that; he had his family, his friends, he got to sing in choir and be really good at it. And then the prince of Sweden arrived and everything changed. 

He wondered how different things would have been for him if he hadn’t looked into the crowd to find the sour prince suddenly looking up at him and smiling. 

Never in a million years would he have thought that things would take such a turn, that so many people would want to have a say in it or get in the way, and that he would feel his world crumbling around him. All because he had the audacity and poor judgement to fall head over heels for a member of the royal family. 

What did it say about him that his world seemed to crumble to pieces for another boy? Was he betraying himself, ignoring his self worth by needing someone else so badly? 

No, he didn’t need Wilhelm, he wanted him. He wanted to be with Wilhelm. 

And he was done trying to deny it, deny himself what he wanted. 

He was putting himself first. He was listening to his heart.

And when a person follows their heart, they can’t make mistakes.

Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his backpack and coat from his locker and left the library. 

It was colder now. Most people were heading to their respective dining halls to have dinner. He saw Felice with Madison, Stella and Fredrika, wearing their coats, heading back from somewhere. Felice waved at him and he waved back. Fredrika and Stella whispered something to each other, and Madison rolled her eyes at them. They disappeared into the main building. 

Simon thought about waiting inside, in the warmth, but he dreaded running into August again. He dreaded running into anyone at all. He couldn’t deal with people asking him questions anymore, people obviously whispering about him, people watching him expectantly, knowing he was waiting for Wilhelm, knowing that at any moment Wilhelm would arrive and they might get to witness something between them.

So he stayed outside, in the cold, leaning against the wall. Henry and Walter passed him and asked if he was coming for dinner. He merely shook his head and stared into the distance, and tried not to think about anyone else. 

The cold seeped into him, numbing him slightly. His chest felt tight, his whole body felt tense. He always felt that way lately. 

And then he saw headlights in the distance, from a car coming down the road to Hillerska. It had to be Wilhelm, he was sure of it. 

As the car drew nearer, it was like being in a boat adrift for a long time and finally spotting a lighthouse in the distance, knowing that he would soon reach shore. 

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and knew it was Wilhelm texting him that he was almost there, and he smiled to himself. 

But he didn’t move, not until the car had driven through the gates and into the driveway, and Malin and Joakim had stepped out and opened the door for Wilhelm. He didn’t move until he was there, right in front of him, for fear that he would try to move and find himself unable to propel himself forward, like in his dream. Because what if this was still a dream? 

So Simon watched motionless, holding his breath, as Wilhelm came to stand in front of him with a huge smile on his face.

“Hey,” Wilhelm said in a breathy low voice, eyes sparkling. 

“Hey,” Simon replied, his voice trembling, and reached out to touch his arm, like he needed to make sure he was real. Wilhelm, no longer able to contain himself, pulled Simon into a hug, and Simon allowed himself to hug him back, to believe that this was real.

“You okay? Wilhelm asked into his shoulder. 

“I am now,” Simon whispered, melting into Wilhelm’s embrace, feeling the tension ebbing away, feeling suddenly so overwhelmed with relief and joy, this was real, this was happening, Wilhelm was back in his arms, and tears welled up in his eyes. They were happy tears this time. He breathed deeply, breathing in Wilhelm’s scent. He didn’t have to imagine him there with him anymore. 

“Me too,” Wilhelm responded, his voice thick. He sniffled and rubbed Simon’s arms. “You’re so cold! How long were you waiting out here? You should have waited inside!”

Simon didn’t respond. He didn’t mind the cold. He just kept hugging Wilhelm, feeling Wilhelm hold him tighter too. The last time they had hugged, Simon felt like he was falling apart; now it felt like he had finally been put back together. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” Wilhelm pulled back a little, to look at Simon. Their faces were wet with tears equally. Simon nodded, a shaky breath escaping his lips. 

“I’m just… glad you’re back.”

Wilhelm chuckled. “Were you worried that maybe I wouldn’t?”

“To be honest, yeah.”

“It’s okay. I had my doubts too, for a bit. But I promised I would come back no matter what. I’m not breaking any more promises,” he said with a trembling exhale and a smile. “I am glad I didn’t have to hitchhike all the way here, though,” he joked, putting an arm around Simon’s shoulder and leading him inside. 

Malin and Joakim followed, carrying Wilhelm’s bags and about four brown paper bags. He asked them to take the bags to his dorm, and that he and Simon would be there in a moment. 

They walked by the doorway to the Forest Ridge dining hall and heard a cacophony of greetings, the boys probably expecting them to come in. Wilhelm simply waved at them, almost dismissively, and Simon only caught August’s ill expression for a split second as they passed. There were other people around, people who were loitering in the hall, clearly waiting around, to casually say hi to the Crown Prince and welcome him back, before being on their way. 

“Come here one second,” Wilhelm said, leading him into the coat room and closing the door quietly. Simon looked at him, confused.

“What is it?”

“I just…” Wilhelm said, before tentatively approaching Simon, like he was going to kiss him. Simon smiled, and he met him halfway. He had been yearning so bad to kiss Wilhelm again; the tension from his body ebbed away, feeling all the air escape him, feeling the warmth of Wilhelm’s lips, the warmth from his arms as they wrapped around each other again.

“Your face is cold,” Wilhelm said, rubbing his nose tenderly against Simon’s. Simon chuckled. 

”Why are we hiding in the coat room?” He whispered. Wilhelm made a face.

“Because I know people are watching,” he said, to Simon’s dismay.

“Oh,” he breathed, feeling apprehensive again. “I… I thought we didn’t have to hide anymore…”

Wilhelm smiled. “We don’t. But I wanted to do that without anyone staring at us,” he explained. “I don’t care if people know about us. In fact, I know people are imagining what we’re doing in here right now. But that doesn’t mean they get to watch.”

Simon beamed at him. “I get it.” 

Wilhelm took his hand, his cold hands into his. “It’s not a secret anymore. But it’s still private.”

“I like that.”

Wilhelm leaned down again, touching his forehead to Simon’s. They both closed their eyes and stayed like that, holding each other. Wilhelm captured his lips for another kiss. Simon melted into it, his whole body becoming lighter.

He no longer felt lost or lonely or adrift. He felt like he was home. 

“Can you stay the night?” Wilhelm whispered against his lips. Simon opened his eyes and looked at him, making Wilhelm blush.

“You don’t have to, I could very well have Malin or Joakim drive you home, or I can come with, when you’re ready to go home,” Wilhelm stammered. “I just thought that, after we talk, maybe we could… make up for the lost time?” 

Simon felt himself blush too. “How?” He asked, trying not to smile. Wilhelm shrugged his shoulders, suddenly coy.

“Um, just… however we want. Wherever the mood takes us.”

Simon chuckled, nuzzling his face into Wilhelm’s neck. 

“Okay, I’ll stay” he whispered, before pulling back. Wilhelm let out a sigh and grinned, and started talking fast and excitedly.

“I have so much to tell you. I think I bought us enough food. There’s this place in Linköping, it’s a little Japanese comfort food restaurant. Do you like soba noodles? I also brought takoyaki, an assortment of tempura, and what looks like lychee soda or something. And they have these purple cookies that are apparently made of ube, which I have never tried before but sounds amazing. I hope you’re not allergic to anything. If we like it, we should go there sometime, it’s small and cozy and they have so many other things in the menu. Come on, let’s go to my room,” he said, taking Simon’s hand and leading him out.

Notes:

If you made it to the end of the chapter and you don’t want to kill me, I really appreciate you. If you kind of want to kill me, I can promise you that none of the future chapters will be this excruciatingly long.
I hope you liked this chapter. It took me forever to write, because every once in a while an idea for another chapter popped up and I had to write it down.
There are two more chapters kind of exploring the immediate aftermath of the speech, one sort of from Wille’s POV and one from the POV of a surprise character. And then it’s just exploring other headcanons.

Chapter 3: Spilled tea

Summary:

The rumor mill is working overtime at Hillerska, after the Crown Prince’s infamous speech. Not everyone is willing to participate, though.
Madison POV.

Notes:

Since season 2 did not give us enough Madison McCoy (for shame), I thought I would. I still feel like we got a nice glimpse of just another thing that sets her apart from the rest of the Hillerska kids. Madison strikes me as respectful of people’s privacy (“why would she tell you? It’s her brother,” and “alright, let’s stop gossiping”), and really mindful of her own (she did participate on the ‘on the table’ tradition in season 1, but then the way she confidently and casually dismissed the question about how many people she has slept with also points to a confidence in her sexuality and sexual experience, and not caring about other people’s opinion. My headcanon is that, when it comes to sex, she’s really open and casual about it but rarely gives it a second thought (she said she hooked up with Nils because she was bored, whilst Nils said it was pretty serious, hence Wilhelm’s confusion about Nils being gay). There’s also that iconic moment when she said “do you think royal dick is better than regular dick?” (And I can’t be the only one wondering if this question came to her because of Wilhelm or… Erik), but she only said that because she was with Felice, she probably doesn’t have discussions like that with anyone else.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Madison wondered if anyone would ever talk about anything else other than the jubilee speech.

Not if it was up to Fredrika, at least.

“They’re a thing, then, right? They must be a thing. And we had no idea.”

“Fredrika, leave it. It’s personal, okay?” Felice said. 

Is it personal? I mean, he said it in front of a crowd. There were cameras.”

“Still. It’s none of our business.”

Fredrika stopped, but Madison was sure that she’d soon find a way to lead them into the conversation again. 

Madison didn’t like gossiping, which she had come to learn was almost a prerequisite and an extracurricular activity at Hillerska. Unlike her fellow students, she didn’t really care for talking about other people behind their backs, the hearsay, the rumors, the making conjectures, etc., but no one else seemed to think there was anything wrong with it. 

And whenever she tried to defuse the gossiping, people were really, authentically annoyed. But that didn’t sway her. She knew that she was already considered eccentric, because she was a foreigner and embarrassed about speaking Swedish, because of all her little rituals and quirks which she knew people regarded as hippy-dippy bullshit, because she wasn’t constantly flaunting herself or her social status, etc. 

But not gossiping, or even worse, discouraging gossiping amongst her peers was her most terrible sin. 

And she knew that others probably gossiped about her, too. There was no escaping the rumor mill. She had participated in the ‘on the table’ tradition once, the morning after Wilhelm’s initiation party, and that was it, but it had been enough to start some rumors about her. She didn’t care, but she certainly wouldn’t go ‘on the table again’, no matter how loudly people banged their palms on it. 

People lived for gossip. They thrived in it. And for the most part, she didn’t care that much that other people did it, about her or anyone else. She simply didn’t want to have to hear it. 

It was boring. It was passé. It was cheap. She didn’t get how people didn’t find something else more interesting to do.

Read a book, get a hobby, go meditate, goddammit. 

If there had been a lull in the rumor mill recently, it was now working overtime with the recent events. After the Jubilee celebration had been cut short, and everyone was dismissed to go to their dorms and hopefully forget that the thing that had happened had actually happened, and they had been left to their own devices, all she heard for the rest of the day was “Wille this” and “Simon that” and “Wille and Simon” and “Simon and Wille” and “Did you see August’s face?” and “Did you see the Queen’s?”

Everywhere she went, people were talking about it. Non-stop.

“Did you see Wille leaving with the Queen?”

“I saw that Simon was crying.”

“They were both crying.”

“When did you see that?”

“When they came out of Forest Ridge.”

“I saw Felice talking to Simon after that.”

“Oh, I thought that Simon had been taken to Stockholm too.”

“No, he wasn’t. Didn’t you see the pictures on Insta? The photographers followed him to his house.”

“Creepy.”

“I heard they had to drag Wille out of here. Again.”

“He wasn’t actually dragged out of here last time.”

“Nearly, though.”

“Well, he wasn’t dragged this time either.”

“What does it mean, though? That Wille had to return to Stockholm?”

“Maybe it’s more serious than we thought.”

“You mean Wille and Simon?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought that was just a hook up.”

“Maybe it was more than that.”

“I didn’t think Wille was gay, at least not after hooking up with Felice.”

“Maybe he’s bi.”

“Hey, can you guys not speculate about people’s sexual identities?” Madison asked, putting her fork down.

The second years who had been talking on her left on the dining table in Manor house at dinner, stopped and looked at her like she was an alien creature. 

“Whatever, it’s not like we’re saying anything bad,” one of them said. 

“Also he’s not even here. And you don’t actually have to listen if you don’t want to,” another one added, irked.

Madison turned back to her food and stared at it. There was no stopping the rumor mill. 

All of Manor house, and the other houses, were also talking about Sara. About how she had moved out; about how she had been hooking up with her best friend’s ex; about August, of all people, hooking up with the former non-res; about Sara betraying Felice and them having a huge row about it; about Felice being so angry that she preferred to sleep on the floor in Maddie’s room rather than spend another second with Sara.

That was before the jubilee, so on Saturday these were the biggest news. Obviously the way news spread around Manor house was like a game of telephone, so it was already a disjointed mess by the time the information reached the fourth person. Madison, however, had gotten the news (fresh and with eye-witness accounts for evidence) from Stella and Fredrika, who came unprompted into her room immediately after it happened to tell her all about it.

She didn’t hear more about it until that night, when Felice knocked on her door and asked her if she could sleep over. 

Even though Maddie offered that they could share the bed, Felice said she didn’t want to be a bother so she got out a rolled-up futon that Maddie used for meditation, and laid it out on the floor next to the bed. She was huffing, her jaw tense as she made her bed,  like she was still boiling with rage. 

Maddie knew that Felice hated August’s guts (not surprising, even on his best days Madison could barely tolerate him herself), not so much for being a lousy boyfriend (being possessive of Felice and feeling insecure about her friendliness with Wilhelm and kissing Sara to make Felice jealous were prime clown August behaviors, after all), but for being an asshole in general (seriously, what had possessed Maddie to even suggest to Felice that she should date that prick in order to get over her crush on Wilhelm?). Ultimately, Felice didn’t care about August enough to be mad about Sara hooking up with August behind Felice’s back.

 Something about Felice’s reaction, about her refusal to be in the same room with Sara at all, indicated that this was much bigger and poignant than that. 

Madison lay on her back and stared up at the dark ceiling after they turned off the lights. She could hear Felice trying to get settled, the incessant rustling of the sheets and the pillow when a person just can’t relax and lay still, until she finally stopped moving and sighed loudly. 

This would be about the time when Madison would listen to her guided sleep meditation podcast (which, since having a room all to herself, she could listen to without having to put her airpods on), but given the circumstances, she opted not to.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked quietly. The motionless girl on the floor was quiet for a moment.

“Not right now.”

“Okay.”

Madison closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Below her, Felice stirred again, turning over in bed, and Maddie sensed that she was facing up as well, because of how she sounded when she let out another long, frustrated sigh and sniffled.

“I thought she was my friend. I thought I knew her,” Felice muttered. “Turns out she’s a snake.”

Madison piped up. “I get that it’s upsetting, because you said you warned her about him, and after what he did to you, and knowing how he is, it’s like she’s completely ignoring your advice. But… I feel like Sara’s very naïve and maybe… maybe he manipulated her… and clearly she knows that she made a mistake, and she’s sorry… so… is it really so bad? Is there no way forward?”

Felice sat up and looked at Maddie. Maddie turned to face her and propped herself up on her elbow to listen. This was more serious than she thought. 

“It’s… I can’t tell you all about it, and this absolutely must stay between us, but…” Felice took a deep breath, like she was still debating whether to continue. “Remember last year, when I was trying to find out who did it? Who posted the video?”

“Fuck… it was Sara?” Madison’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. Felice shook her head.

“No. But… she knew. She knew who did it, she knew way before I found out. And she didn’t tell Simon. Or Wille, for that matter.”

Maddie bit her lip, thoughtfully. How did Sara even find out? Was she a bigger sleuth than Felice ‘Nancy Drew’ Ehrenchrona? Did  she simply stumble upon the information? Did the person responsible let it slip in front of her? Or maybe she witnessed the whole thing as it happened… 

Regardless of how she found out, this meant that she knew the whole time and pretended not to. Sara, who seemed to have a tendency to speak her mind and have no chill at the most inappropriate times, had kept this vital piece of information from both victims, one of whom was her own brother. 

“Why not?”

“Because she’s a fucking snake! She betrayed her own brother to protect someone else.”

Madison was about to ask why, but fell silent. In her head she was connecting the dots; Sara knew who posted the video, she didn’t tell her own brother, and less than a month later she’s getting a grant to board at Manor house and is hooking up with August behind Felice’s back.

August…?

Shit.

Sara turning out to be a snake was a pretty big shock. August, not so much. 

Although recording and leaking a sex video of his own cousin was a brand new low, even for August.

Felice bit her lip and looked at Madison. “You can’t tell anyone,” she pleaded. Madison nodded. Of course she wouldn’t say a word, she was not a gossip. And it was not her place to do anything useful with that information. 

“Poor Simon…” she muttered. “Poor Wille…” 

“Her own brother. And for what? For her own personal benefit. She made me feel like shit about the whole thing with Rousseau, and this whole time…” Felice seethed. “I can’t be friends with someone like that… Maybe I wasn’t even really her friend. Maybe she was just using me this whole time.”

Madison made a face. If that was true at all, then yes, Sara was unquestionably a snake. Felice didn’t deserve any of it. 

“Maybe,” she muttered. Madison had always considered herself a pretty good judge of character. But with Sara, she had never been quite able to pinpoint her. Maybe it was because she had never met anyone like Sara.

Felice was definitely crying now.

“Can’t even trust my own friends,” she said, her voice thick. Maddie reached out a hand in the dark. 

“I’m your friend,” she said. She felt the other girl grab her hand and squeeze. 

“I know.” 

She thought about Felice and how much she had changed in the past few months. She remembered how, upon meeting her, Felice had struck her as a disastrously uptight girl; then five minutes later she had met her mother, Smysan, and it explained everything. It explained Felice’s obsession with her weight and her skincare, it explained her fixation with straightening her hair, and it explained why she was determined to attract Wilhelm’s attention and schemed day and night about it from the moment it was announced that he would be enrolling. 

Whatever happened in recent times that made her realize that she was already smart and talented and beautiful and kind and interesting enough and didn’t need to obsess over any of these things, Madison only wished that it had happened sooner. 

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you really wanted to be my friend at first, I thought you were probably thinking that you got stuck with me as your roommate,” Felice said. Madison scoffed.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t want to be roommates with anyone else here. That’s why my condition for switching dorms was that I would get a single room. It’s either you or no one.”

Felice chuckled. ”I used to think of you as simply my roommate, not because I didn’t want to be your friend, but because I thought you were sick of me. Or at least that you would get sick of me quickly.”

Madison guessed that Felice was either referring to not letting her burn incense and sage in the room, or to her own obsession with Wilhelm. Probably the latter. 

“Are you kidding? You’re the best person in this whole school. And you’re a good friend.” She wasn’t being the least bit ironic. Felice was nicer and kinder than most Hillerska girls. She was lucky to be counted among Felice’s friends. And so was Wilhelm. And so was Sara (if only Sara hadn’t decided to throw all that overboard).

“That’s sweet. So are you,” Felice said softly. 

They both finally turned on their beds to look up at the ceiling and go to sleep. It felt a little bit like when they were roommates again. Maybe they would be roommates again. 

Or maybe Sara would eventually come back. 

If Madison was a good judge of character at all, she concluded that Sara must already be feeling massively guilty about what she had done. But something told Madison that perhaps Sara really had no idea of the magnitude of what she had done. 

That’s why the next morning, she was not surprised when Felice came down for breakfast and told her and Stella and Fredrika that Sara had apparently moved out. 

And also why later, during the jubilee, she was barely able to hide the pleased look on her face when Wilhelm stood up to do the speech and August was forced to sit back down. The look of humiliation and disappointment in August’s face was so satisfying.

Karma, bitch, she thought to herself.

As if that wasn’t enough, what happened next could only be described as absolute (albeit controlled) mayhem, and she loved it. She kind of wanted to kiss Wilhelm for it. 

What she didn’t love was how it was suddenly everywhere, thanks to the people who recorded everything (well, everything from the moment that Wilhelm had clearly gone off script). 

Soon enough, it wouldn’t be only the kids at Hillerska, who had witnessed everything, who would be gossiping about Wilhelm and Simon, but the whole country. The whole world, in fact. 

That sucked.

That night, Sweden and the monarchy and Crown Prince Wilhelm and Simon and the sex video and the jubilee speech were all trending in some way or another all over social media globally. There were cousins and friends and acquaintances back in New York texting her, asking her about it. She ignored all of them. 

Later all the students received the word-of-mouth that the Crown Prince had been taken back to Stockholm by his family for an indefinite time (poor Wilhelm), and that the post-Jubilee party at the palatset had been cancelled (or at least postponed) due to his unavailability as the guest of honor, and obviously due to the aftermath of the jubilee. There was also gossip going around now about August, and whether he had expected to be the actual guest of honor if he had ultimately delivered the speech in Wilhelm’s place (she wouldn’t put it past that pretentious dickhead). But it didn’t matter much; everyone was too busy following the aftermath on social media and watching reporters spiraling on the news, giving a play-by-play of the events and discussing and theorizing how this would affect the monarchy and what could happen now (when it came to the monarchy, these guys were worse than American news coverage dissecting even the most menial details like conspiracy theorists).

“Can we watch something else, please? They’re just going over the same information over and over again,” she groaned from the couch in the common room, when the news channel playing on the TV cycled through the same reel for the twelfth time in a row as a reporter spoke over it (when did it become okay for news channels to show child pornography just because it was a viral video? At least they weren’t showing the more R-rated part of the video, but their faces weren’t even blurred. Unnecessary. For shame.)

The dozen girls of all years parked in front of the TV ignored her, two shushed her, and the one holding the remote control turned the volume up. Madison stood up to leave. If she had to watch another reporter talking live from outside Drottningholm palace as if there were something fascinating actually happening in the background, she was going to scream. 

“Wanna come do yoga with me in my room? We can have ice cream afterwards,” Madison suggested to Felice. 

“Yes, please,” Felice said. 

The next morning, the coverage on TV and social media was about the LGBTQ+ groups that had gathered outside of Drottningholm palace in support of the Crown Prince. People with rainbow clothes and flags and face-painting were saying that the Royal Court might be hiding Wilhelm for coming out. 

“Okay, now this must mean that he’s definitely gay, right?” Fredrika asked, looking at her friends in turn whilst also looking down at a news clip on her phone. It was Monday, and they sat around a table at the cafe on before class. The mood that morning was weird all over the school; people probably expected to be hungover from the party that didn’t end up happening due to the unexpected turn of events, so everyone was kind of high-strung, still following the news as they developed. 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Felice said, sounding wearied.

“Well, he’s queer in some way, right? I mean, he didn’t say it, but it’s implied. And the queer community is supporting him,” Fredrika said, gesturing to her phone and the video she was watching of the coverage outside the palace. Felice shrugged.

“Okay, sure, whatever.”

“I mean, you probably know more, because you’re close to him. Has he ever said anything to you?”

“Fred, we don’t really talk about that. And even if we did, I wouldn’t just tell you about it. It’s his business.”

“But he could be gay, right? Oh wait, he also kissed you, so maybe he’s bi?”

“Fredrika, stop talking about his sexuality!”

Even Madison turned to look in surprise. Stella had never snapped or yelled at Fredrika before, not in anything other than a playful tone. But Stella huffed and leaned back in her chair. 

“Sorry. Can we just talk about anything else?” She said, her cheeks pink.

“Amen to that,” Madison said, sipping her tea.

When it was obvious that neither Simon nor Sara were going to be at school that day, the rumor mill picked up speed.

“I saw that there’s, like, a hundred photographers waiting for him outside of his house.”

“Don’t exaggerate. There were fifty at most.”

“That’s still too many.”

“Even two is too many. What do they think that one of them is going to photograph that the other forty nine aren’t? It’s ridiculous.”

“And what are they expecting to photograph at all, if they’re obviously making him too scared to even come out of his house?”

“But what’s the worst that could happen if he does?”

“Paparazzi always catch your worst angle.”

Madison turned on her seat. “Some of us are trying to study,” she said. The two girls and two boys behind her glared at her. 

“The teacher’s not even here yet,” one of the boys retorted. 

“Ignore them, Maddie,” Felice said under her breath.

Occasionally she got a whiff of something being said about Sara, but that was less interesting at this point, because people had already made up their mind about her, and it wasn’t as gripping as the royal drama.

“Is she even going to come back?”

“I bet she’s changing schools. She’s probably terrified of setting foot here again.”

“What’s the big deal? So she slept with her best friend’s ex, so what? It’s not like the dating pool is that big here.”

“She seems like the kind of person who would be really ashamed of it.”

“What if Felice was the one making a big deal out of it?”

“Wait, I thought that whole issue had something to do with Wille too. Like maybe he didn’t like that his cousin was hooking up with his boyfriend’s sister.”

“We don’t know if they’re boyfriends.”

“Who cares? They all can do whatever they want.”

“Or whoever they want.” 

“Exactly. Ha ha! They just like to cook up drama.”

“And we’re eating it up.”

“I still think that was really sleazy of Sara.”

“But it wasn’t sleazy of August?” Madison asked a little too loudly, taking the chattering group in front of her by surprise. She stood up and walked out of the library, just before she caught the disdainful looks they were throwing at her. 

“Hey, do you want to move back to our dorm room? I promise you can burn sage… every once in a while… preferably when I’m not in the room…” Felice asked that night, whilst they were all hanging out in Stella and Fredrika’s room. Stella and Fredrika were watching TikToks analyzing the speech aftermath. 

“What if Sara moves back to Manor house? She can still be a boarder,” Madison asked, filing her nails. Felice gave her a look. 

“Then she can have yours, or any other room. But I’m not rooming with her again.”

Madison licked her lips and thought about it. Sure, she would miss her little rituals and listening to her podcasts and everything in the privacy and the solitude of her own room, but she did miss Felice, and having someone to share these things with all the time. Felice didn’t treat her like a weirdo for those things. She also missed having her own private shower (even if the hot water was unpredictable, especially when she was washing her hair).

But she had to admit, she felt a little bit bad for Sara. Just a little bit.

“Okay, that would be cool. As long as you’re sure.” 

“Trust me, I doubt she’d be so bold as to ask to be my roommate again,” Felice said. “And even if she did, that would be a big no.” 

“Yeah, big no,” Stella echoed, not looking away from the screen of her phone. 

The next morning, Madison was there when a black car with dark tinted windows arrived and was just as shocked as everyone else when a large man in a suit walked around the car and opened the door and Simon Eriksson stepped out.

Simon, in his purple hoodie, with his yellow backpack, looking like he was having a nervous breakdown, was led inside by Headmistress Lilja. As soon as they were out of sight, everyone around Madison exploded. 

“No way! He gets escorted by a full security detail now?”

“Wow, I guess they are boyfriends.”

“Oh my god, did the Queen make that happen?”

“I bet he’s living the life.”

“Doubt it, he looked like he was about to be sick.”

“Do you think he’s having second thoughts about all of this?”

“I bet he didn’t even imagine that it could be like this. Not in his wildest dreams.”

“I bet he now wishes he never hooked up with the Crown Prince.”

“Maybe it was meant to be just a hookup and look at him now.”

“Just so you know, that’s a really ugly shade of green, does not suit either of you,” Madison said, turning around and throwing a look at the boy and girl going back and forth behind her. They both stopped on their tracks and looked disconcerted. She walked on.

“What did she say?”

“Must be an American thing.”

When Sara arrived too, a few minutes later, some people had a say about it.

“Look who decided to show her face around here again.”

“Wonder if we’ll get to see some drama in here today.”

Madison had looked up in time to see Sara walk in and quietly ask Alexander if she could sit with him and he nodded. Simon walked in behind Felice only a moment later, and Madison glared when Henry and Walter and Lukas, who were right next to her, started smacking each other’s arms and shoulders for attention. A chorus of ‘hey Simon’, delivered uncharacteristically enthusiastic by the three boys prompted Simon, who already looked like he was half dead, to be taken aback and merely give a confused and tired wave before proceeding to ignore them, sitting beside Felice at the desk in front of Madison’s. But they weren’t having that. The three boys, plus Stella and Fredrika, huddled around him.

”We heard you were abducted by the monarchy.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened,” Simon replied after a beat, and Madison grinned to herself.

“Wait, really?”

“Why are you so dumb? He’s obviously being sarcastic, and also you saw the paparazzi pictures and the videos of his house surrounded.” 

“I thought maybe that was before he was abducted. So Wille wasn’t with you?”

“Wille is in Stockholm, dumbass.” 

“When is he coming back?”

Is he coming back?”

Annoyed at the line of questioning, Madison spoke up. “Is he okay? Are you okay?” She asked. 

Simon glanced at her briefly and gave her a faint smile. She got the feeling that, beside Felice, no one else had asked him if he and Wilhelm were okay (even if the answer was obviously ‘no’).

“So are you guys a couple now?”

“Fredrika, don’t ask personal questions,” Felice retorted, making a face at her friend. 

“I’m just curious. I mean, what Wille said is all over the Internet, but what did he even mean? What does it mean for you and him?”

“It’s still none of our business.”

Mister Englund came in and they all fell silent and went to their seats, standing behind their chairs to greet the teacher properly. 

As they sat down again, Madison watched Simon’s slumped shoulders. She wondered if maybe he was having second thoughts about everything. 

Later, when the news that Wilhelm was returning to Hillerska that night, the irritating running commentary continued. 

“You gotta wonder why they haven’t put out a statement yet.”

“Maybe it’s gonna be more shocking than we think.”

“*GASP* What if he’s abdicating?”

“Abdicating? Wouldn’t he have to be the king already to abdicate?”

“Fine, whatever, if you want to get technical. What if he’s renouncing the title of Crown Prince?”

“To be with the non-res?”

“That’s crazy.”

“Come on, everyone knows that he’s not exactly thrilled about being Crown Prince. He’s not like Erik was. And it’s not like he was expecting his brother to die.”

“But he must have grown up with that mentality, that it could always be possible… right?”

“I don’t know. But still, to give up the crown for that guy…? Seriously?” 

“And who would be the Crown Prince or Princess then, if he’s not?”

“Um, August, I guess.”

“Hah! August… yeah, if he were ever made Crown Prince, he’d orgasm to death on the spot.”

Madison winced. She did not need that mental image when she was still digesting her lunch.

That afternoon, Stella, Fredrika and  Felice helped Madison move her stuff back into the double room and did some redecorating and reorganizing (mainly of the wardrobe, which no doubt Felice would disorganize again in a matter of days), and then they went to the lake to have a little picnic and watch the sunset until it was time to head back for dinner. 

They were walking back up to the main entrance when they came across Simon. He stayed after class in Hillerska, obviously waiting for Wilhelm. He looked like he had been through it, with dark circles under his eyes. Felice waved at him, and he barely managed a smile. 

“I say they’re a couple, I mean, they have to be,” Fredrika whispered to Stella.

”I say Simon has no idea what he’s getting himself into,” Stella whispered back. 

Madison rolled her eyes at them and followed them inside. 

They went to their rooms to get ready for dinner. Felice had finished helping her put some sparkly beads in her braids, and now Madison stood by the window putting on her earrings and looking out. From there, she could see a bit of the entrance to the main hall, where Simon stood, leaning against the wall. It was getting cold, what the hell was he doing just standing outside?

Just then, a car came into the driveway and she saw Wilhelm come out of the car, with the biggest and dopiest smile on his face, and approach Simon. They said something to each other, and then they hugged, arms wrapped tightly around each other. 

“Aw, Wille’s back,” she said, realizing that she was smiling too.

“Is he?” Felice finished zipping up one of her boots and limped awkwardly on one heel to the window. “Aww, look at them.”

“Yep,” Madison said. She glanced over at her friend. “You probably know more than anyone, since you and Wille are bffs, and I’m not going to pry, but just tell me if I’m right or not… They’re, like, totally in love, aren’t they? That wasn’t just a hookup?”

Felice sat back down to zip up her other boot, pressing her lips together as if she were thinking how to answer. She finally let out a sigh and smiled. “I never stood a chance.”

“I knew it,” Madison replied confidently, turning to the window again. The two boys hugged for a long time. No second thoughts being had after all. “If only people would see them right now, they’d probably figure it out too and finally shut up.”

“Wait, Maddie, I thought you weren’t a gossip,” Felice said, poking her shoulder. 

“I’m not. You won’t see me running out to tell everyone about this,” Madison replied, leaning her head against the window wistfully as Wilhelm put an arm around Simon’s shoulder, one of Simon’s arms wrapping around Wilhelm’s waist, and they walked side by side into the building. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t like to watch.”

The next morning, the chatter was all about the return of the Crown Prince and that long hug with the non-res by the door and walking in with their arms around each other and sneaking into the coat closet and Simon spending the night; but it was promptly interrupted (or rather took an even more interesting turn) when the Royal House official statement appeared everywhere: newspapers, TV news, Instagram, TikTok, Youtube, Twitter… everywhere.

“Wow,” Felice muttered, smiling, mouth slightly agape as she read an Instagram post with the statement. “Wow.”

“What does it mean, though?” Fredrika asked, reading from her own phone. “I mean, I get what it says, but what does it mean in general?”

“It means, my dear,” Madison said, smirking and pointing with her index at the open statement on Fredrika’s phone, where it said the word privacies, “that it’s none of our business.”

Notes:

Let me know what you think.

Edit: Okay, I posted this too quickly and didn’t have time to add proper notes.

I have a lot of love for Madison because she’s probably one of the most relatable characters for me (her and Wille). I feel like if there’s one person who would be a good secret keeper, it’s her. Also, she coined “Fuck you August”, what’s not to love about that. But what does it mean, now that she knows/figured out that it was him who did the terrible thing™? Stay tuned to find out.

If you’re a fellow Madison McCoy fan and you think we deserve more Madison in season 3, please share your love in the comments. Let’s magic and manifest this into reality.

Chapter 4: Journal entries

Summary:

Wilhelm tries journaling whilst he’s at Drottningholm palace, to help him cope with everything. So sort of Wille’s journal POV…?

Notes:

This took nothing to write, and then all the time in the world to edit.
A couple of these entries are inspired by my own journal entries when I’ve tried journaling. I’m not sure how anyone else does journaling, but this is my style.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

This feels weird.

I have been back home for half a day and already feel like I want to jump out of a window.

I don’t know what else to write.

Am I the asshole here?

I feel like I can’t do anything right. 

Not even this, which feels like it should be the easiest thing, just writing down what I feel or think.

Why is this so hard?

Why the fuck did I come back here? I should have jumped out of the car when I had the chance.

Simon and I agreed that there would be no secrets between us. And only a little while later I find out that he was keeping a secret from me. 

But I can’t be mad at him. I’m worried and scared for him. I wish the paparazzi would just fuck off.

I feel helpless. I can’t do anything to help him. My mum won’t help either. 

I’m useless.

— 

If I hadn’t done what I did, I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

I guess there’s no point in thinking about what I should have done before, because I can’t travel back in time and change anything. 

But it sucks to think about it. 

I’m a piece of shit.

Simon probably wishes he had never met me. His life would probably be easier if he had nothing to do with me.

Mine would be even more shit.

My mum lies to me all the time.

She said that she wanted me to come back here so we could sort out what I had done, then when we get here she tells me to go to my room and that she can’t deal with me. She can’t stand me, so she lies to me.

She lied about August too.

I shouldn’t have trusted her. And I should never had trusted him. This is my fucking fault for trusting them.

Would August ever have done something like this to Erik?

Would my mum have protected August if he had done this to Erik?

I feel like she would. I don’t know, I guess I’ll never know…

Maybe I should have killed August.

August would have killed me without hesitation. 

Simon just called himself my boyfriend, and I loved it. Then we hung up, and I cried because I can’t be with my boyfriend. Because everything fucking sucks. 

I honestly didn’t know I could feel this way about someone. I didn’t know that I could love someone as much as I love him.

I doubt he loves me as much as I love him, though, but that’s okay.

I fucking miss him. 

This feels like a very disjointed train of thought thing, and I’m not sure if I’m doing it right.

I’m tired and angry and sleepy. I haven’t eaten anything in almost three days because I’m constantly nauseated.

I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed that Simon was gone, and I knew that someone had taken him. It was a ridiculous dream, it didn’t make sense, but I woke up anxious and sweating. I feel like I’m losing my mind. 

I told Simon about the dream. I don’t know why I told him about it, he probably thinks I’m an absolute nutcase. 

I’m trying to be as honest and communicative as possible with Simon. It’s odd, sometimes it feels like I have verbal hemorrhage or whatever it’s called, and I feel awkward afterwards. It feels like I can’t speak in full sentences, like I can’t make sense of what I’m feeling, so it just comes out weird. 

I don’t know how to speak my mind when I’m not angry.

I guess that’s why my mum says I’m too emotional, because I’m always saying how I feel when I’m angry. Even if what I’m saying makes no sense, even if I’m just blurting out stuff.

But when I’m not angry it’s harder.

It’s easier to talk to Simon, though. He listens. I think he really values when I share these things with him.

But I’m always afraid of being judged by him, or for him to realize something about me that he doesn’t like. I don’t know how to deal with that.

I also feel like he can get defensive as well, if I say something that he doesn’t want to hear, and I get scared that he might not listen to me, that he might get mad at me. But I get it, I don’t like hearing things that I don’t want to hear, or things that I don’t agree with.

Still, I don’t want to say the wrong thing and for him to hate me, but I can’t be honest if I don’t say how I really feel. And I guess being honest is sometimes saying something that the other person might not agree with.

It’s scary. But he asked me to, so I prefer to do it than for him to not be able to trust me, or think that I don’t trust him, that I can’t be honest with him.

I feel safe talking to him. I know he would never tell anyone about the things that I tell him.

The only person that I used to be able to talk to like that was Erik. 

My dad came to see me. I feel like I don’t know how talk to him anymore. I feel awkward and like we’re just going through the motions. I don’t think he knows how to talk to me anymore either. He tried to comfort me today, but I just felt worse. 

My mum hasn’t come to see me at all.

I kind of wish I could talk to Boris right now. I don’t know if I’m doing this right, but it feels very much like I’m not, so I need help.

And if I talk to him maybe I don’t need to write a journal. I don’t know if I like this. 

But it’s only been two days, so maybe I should keep trying. I might as well, it’s not like I have much else to do right now, except be trapped here and feel sad and sick. 

Also it will be something for future me to read and feel embarrassed about.

Hey, future Wille, how’s it going? This is pretty awkward, isn’t it? 

Just stop reading, do yourself a favor, and set this on fire. Make sure no one else sees it ever. 

I can’t see from my windows, but apparently there’s a lot of people gathered outside the palace rooting for me. Or something.

That made me feel nice for a second. But I bet no one really gives a shit what happens to me. I bet they pretend to care for a little while, just because of the novelty, then they’d move on with their lives.

I wouldn’t blame them. Why should they care?

Something tells me that Erik would have been better in this situation. I wish I knew what he would have done. 

A part of me still wishes that I had never fallen in love. 

If I had known it could be this painful, I would have done everything to avoid it. 

I miss Simon so much that it physically hurts.

I feel so fucking lonely.

I feel like ripping off my skin. Like maybe that will make me stop feeling things.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt like a real person. Like a fully-functioning human being. 

I don’t ever feel like I’m actually a part of this world, it doesn’t feel as if my existence actually has any consequence on anything.

Even though it’s what I’m told all the time, that I have a role to fulfill, a commitment to the crown, to the country. But it’s bullshit. It’s all make-believe. I’m make-believe. 

But the bad things do feel very real. When I feel sick or anxious or stressed, it feels unpleasantly real. My mistakes feel too real. Pain feels horribly real. Nothing good feels real, nothing that matters feels real.

I feel like I just go through life pretending that I’m real. Just faking it till I make it, like everyone else. Just doing things, anything, all the time, pretending like any of it matters.

Maybe it helps me ignore that feeling that I’m not actually real, somewhat.

I don’t know if that makes any sense.

Simon makes me feel real.

I miss Erik every day. It fucking hurts.

I honestly think my mum doesn’t like me. And I don’t think she cares about hiding it. 

And I can’t pretend anymore that it doesn’t fucking hurt.

I doubt they would ever say this out loud, but sometimes it feels like my parents would have preferred it been better off if I had died instead of Erik were still alive instead of me. I think they would be okay. They would have been sad but then moved on pretty fast. I think Erik would have been sadder but he’d still be fine. And then life would have gone on. 

A part of me really wants to talk about this with someone. Because writing about it doesn’t really help.

I don’t know if I want to talk to Simon about this, though, because I don’t know if I’m ready for him to know these things about me, and I don’t want him to worry about me. 

Also I don’t think he would understand. He’ll probably tell me that I’m wrong, that my parents love me, but he doesn’t know what it feels like because Linda probably loves him so much and he’s never had to question it. 

Erik used to do that too. I know he meant well, but he didn’t really get it either.

I feel broken.

Last night I told Simon everything, and he listened, and I cried, but I didn’t feel better. 

Then I woke up and my mum was there, and I tried telling her everything too. It was cathartic. It helped me lay out all my fears and put things into perspective and get things off my chest. 

And this time I’m sure she didn’t lie. But I don’t think she was completely honest either. I still think she wishes I wasn’t queer. 

Still, I do felt better. Because I realized that I no longer care what she thinks of me. 

The only thing that matters to me now is being with Simon. 

I’m going home to Simon today.

Notes:

I feel like Wilhelm, like me, is very self-deprecating (can we blame him?), and if we ever got an actual glimpse into his head we’d get to see just how much.
Also I feel like writing about his thoughts and feelings probably would feel as weird to him as if was talking about them at first too. I know it was for me.
Anyway, I love him with all my heart and I want nothing but good things for him in the final season.

Chapter 5: You say the word…

Summary:

Wilhelm’s POV. The conversation that he dreaded, the results of the meetings, and a lot of overthinking. But Boris is there to give some good advice, and Simon is stronger than Wilhelm gives him credit for.

Part one of a two part chapter.

Notes:

She’s alive! Has it really been two months since the last update??? Almost to the day. I’m deeply sorry, but this chapter, which was supposed to be one single chapter, took way longer than I expected, as I tied it all together nicely, and then obviously it got too long to be one chapter. But that means that today I’m not giving one, but TWO whole brand new chapters. It’s an Easter miracle!
So these two chapters are chock-full of many many of my headcanons for season 3. Bear in mind that, as much as I have done my research, I find that there’s very little (at least to the detail that I would like) about some of the more technical aspects of the Swedish monarchy, so I can only rely on what I found and on the information shared by wonderful Tumblr users such as skamenglishsubs, etc. So if there are any imprecisions, bear in mind that this is my YR universe within the Lisa Ambjörn YR universe.
But I hope you enjoy it. As always, apologies for the length (to those of you who don’t appreciate almost 10k chapters, and to those who do appreciate 10k chapters but not at 11pm EST on a Sunday. What can I say, if I waited any longer, I would have gone insane.)
TW: anxiety, anxiety-related food aversion, mentions of panic attacks, low self-esteem, mentions of gun violence.
Rating change: because it gets fluffy and smutty in this one, yay.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wilhelm was scared.

At any moment he was sure that Simon would just tell him this was a mistake and walk away. He already had once, twice.

After all, why would he put up with this shit? Who would willingly put themselves through all the hoop-jumping and sword-crossing that came with being with him?

Because that’s precisely what it was; endless rules and requirements and protocols and briefings and who knew what else they could come up with. Wilhelm had some idea of the magnitude of it, thanks to Erik’s experience, but it was still shocking.

How had Erik ever handled any of it?

The sad reality was that Erik barely had a chance to go through the trials and tribulations of being in a relationship whilst afflicted with Crown Prince syndrome, before he joined the Navy and had to put off having an actual love life for a while. Prior to that, there were a few secret hookups, one sort of serious girlfriend, one not so serious, and a handful of ‘false starts’; girls that, despite being smitten with him, backtracked once they realized what dating a member of the royal family entailed. 

Who was to say that that couldn’t still happen to Wilhelm?

Despite everything that they endured since they met, despite all the assurances and the love declarations and the lingering desire and the desperation to be reunited, there was no guarantee that Simon would not go running scared with everything that the Royal Court would be throwing their way. Simon was still a socialist and staunchly anti-monarchy, and Wilhelm expected no less of him.

So the ecstasy of reuniting with Simon was short-lived, quickly replaced with the anxiety of revealing the harsh reality of dating a member of the royal family to the boy he loved. 

“Can you stay the night?” Wilhelm asked, kissing him like his life depended on it, like it was the antidote to every ailment that he had ever and could ever sustain. Simon smiled and said yes, and for a moment, Wilhelm was still hopeful. 

When they got to Wilhelm’s room, Malin and Joakim had already placed his luggage on the spare bed, and the bags of food on the desk, and retreated to the gatehouse, so Wilhelm and Simon were alone. 

Together, by themselves, in his room. All the tension and the sadness of the past couple of days melted away. 

Wilhelm couldn’t get his coat off fast enough when Simon was already clutching to him like a koala, making Wilhelm laugh. Just moments ago Simon looked like he was about to crumble, and now seemed fully restored. And Wilhelm was struck by the reality, the enormity of being with Simon again, of being in his arms again; he genuinely started to believe that he wouldn’t return. His chest swelled as they kissed, their hands all over each other, breathing in each other.

“Hey, I thought we were going to eat first,” he mumbled into Simon’s lips. Simon shook his head, brow furrowed as he latched on again and again to Wilhelm’s mouth.

”Hmmmno, making out first, food later,” he mumbled back, guiding him to the bed and sitting him down and straddling him, a move that Wilhelm greatly appreciated. 

“Fuck, Simon, I’m hungry…” Wilhelm muttered between kisses, not putting up too much of a real fight as Simon started kissing his neck. “I need… um, energy…”

“Don’t worry,” Simon whispered against his neck, breath tickling him, hands sneaking under his sweater and roaming all over his skin, “this won’t take long, and you barely have to do anything, just let me-”

“Simon, come on, we agreed that we’d let the mood take us after we talk, and I’m really hungry and tired, and the food will get cold…” Wilhelm said, wishing he’d shut up and just let Simon have his way with him. 

Simon stopped and narrowed his eyes at him. “Is food really more important to you right now?” 

Wilhelm groaned. He grabbed him by the waist and flipped them over in one quick and smooth motion. Simon let out a little yelp of surprise, flushing bright red as Wilhelm hovered over him, between his legs, their faces inches apart.

“No, Simon, food is absolutely not more important. Believe me, right now I would like nothing more than to let you do whatever you want with me, because fuck, I missed you and these past two days have been miserable and I spent two hours in the car on the way here dying to kiss you and touch you and… so many other things… but I have a lot to tell you, in fact I have a very time-sensitive thing to show you… and I have barely eaten anything in four days because I felt sick all the time and I finally don’t feel like I might starve to death, and I thought that maybe we could have a picnic here on the floor of my room, which might seem cheesy but after the week I’ve had it sounds like heaven to me, just being with you… So maybe we calm down a bit, and after we’ve talked and eaten, I promise you that we will make up for the lost time. How does that sound?”

The way that, as Wilhelm spoke, Simon’s face went from lustful to disgruntled to sad to bashful and then to happy and lustful again, looking both adorable and sexy as he licked his lips and looked coyly up at him, his hands still pressing into the skin of his back, it did  things to Wilhelm, almost weakening his resolve. But Simon nodded and lifted his head to kiss Wilhelm again, a bit too long, a bit like he still wanted to change Wilhelm’s mind. 

“Okay,” Simon finally said, resigned, his knees squeezing Wilhelm’s hips momentarily as a last ditch attempt to keep him there, on top of him, their bodies pressed together. It took every remaining ounce of Wilhelm’s willpower to pry himself off. They both sat up.

“This food better be really good,” Simon grumbled, before breaking into a smile, burying his face in Wilhelm’s neck. “I’m kidding. You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just a bit… restless. These days have been awful, and I was so… fucking sad this whole time… now I’m happy again, and I just wanted… But… honestly I’m hungry too, I haven’t eaten much either. And I like the idea of a picnic, it’s not cheesy at all. I’m glad you’re feeling better, and I don’t want you to starve to death.”

Wilhelm reluctantly extricated himself from Simon’s side, pecking him on the cheek. He fished the printed statement from the Royal House from his backpack, and explained that the Royal Court needed him and Linda to read and approve it before the end of the day. 

Sitting across the room, on the floor with his legs crossed, Wilhelm unpacked the food and laid it out on the floor next to the spare bed, and watched Simon out of the corner of his eye as he silently read the statement over. Simon’s expression was blank as his eyes darted over the words on the paper.

Wilhelm felt a little sick again. It was too much, this was too much. Any moment now Simon would bolt…

“Is this for real?” Simon asked.

“It’s… well… what do you… you mean it as a good thing or a…?” Wilhelm stammered.

“I mean… they’re saying my name…”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I was surprised too.”

“So this mean… they’re okay with it? With us?”

“I think they have to be. If they’re smart, they’ll support us.”

“And they support you coming out?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “That’s what they’re saying.”

“But you don’t know if they mean it.”

“I know they don’t.”

Simon hunched over the letter. “This part about investigating… they’re not really doing anything about it, right?” He asked, but he didn’t sound angry or annoyed, simply stating the obvious.

“Not for now, no.” Wilhelm wished he could say something more encouraging. He wanted nothing more than for August to get what he deserved too, especially knowing now that Sara was involved. But Wilhelm was reluctant to press the matter, if there was any risk of Simon being affected. So as long as his cousin knew his place now, Wilhelm was willing to leave things as they were. 

“And is he still your backup?”

“For the moment… yes.”

Simon bit his lip. Wilhelm rubbed his face, exhausted, and repeated word for word what his mother had told him about it, that she didn’t want that kind of attention on them right now, that it would just make the video be on rotation again, more than it was now, so for their protection it was best not to change anything. 

“For our protection…” Simon echoed, smiling bitterly.

Wilhelm felt a chill in the back of his head. For him to literally quote his mum, to agree with what she says, despite everything that had happened… He knew that look on Simon’s face, it was the same look, the same knowing bitter smile from when they argued in the music room, the same spite behind his words.

You’re exactly like your mum…

“Hey.”

Wilhelm looked up.

“You okay?” Simon asked, his face concerned. Wilhelm realized that he was breathing harder. 

“Uh, yeah, I… I’m sorry, I’m hungry and tired… I still feel a little sick, but maybe eating will make me feel better.”

Simon grinned. “Oh, I thought it was talking about August that made you sick. I don’t want to think about him right now either…” He reread the statement for the umpteenth time. “If you’re okay with this, then I’m okay too.”

“I didn’t even think they would involve me in it or want my approval or say any of the things they say in it. I was so sure that they’d put out a statement saying… just anything else. This much more than I expected from them.… so yes, I’m okay with it.”

“It’s shocking, really. What does Jan-Olof have to say about this?” Simon asked, almost amused. Wilhelm pretended to gag.

“Ugh, let’s not talk about Jan-Olof either, my appetite is still in danger here.”

Simon giggled. “So I just tell my mum to sign the release, and the Royal Court publish it and that’s it? We’re… Crown-approved?”

”If only it were that simple,” Wilhelm said. 

He texted Farima to forward the statement to Linda, and Simon called his mother briefly to let her know what she needed to do. A few minutes later, they both received a notification that Linda sent back the email with her signature approving the statement. 

Simon’s phone vibrated. He picked up and started talking in Spanish, so Wilhelm assumed that was Linda. There was a short exchange, but he got the gist of it; they would talk later, and he’d explain everything to her. Simon smiled and hung up.

“My mum says hi,” he said, still smiling. Wilhelm swallowed hard, feeling a chill in his head again. 

He hadn’t wanted to think much about Linda this whole time. He hadn’t seen her since St Lucia night.

But now the thought about facing her again, after what he did to her son, it made him sick. He wondered what she thought of him now. The video, the denial, the speech… And now Sara… What would happen when Linda found out what Sara had done… 

And none of it would have happened if Wilhelm had left Simon alone from the start, if he hadn’t had the gall of thinking that he could pursue him, the only boy he had ever liked…

“Wille?”

“Sorry, what?”

Simon was kneeling beside him, his hand on his face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m starving, that’s all. Let’s eat.”

Simon watched him; Wilhelm feigned nonchalance and poured the contents of a glass bottle into two cups. “Lychee soda?” He offered, handing one of the cups to Simon, who grinned and sat beside him, leaning against the spare bed, their knees grazing. They toasted, smiling like idiots. 

Wilhelm was so hungry that the sweet liquid and the food were like nectar and ambrosia to his body and soul. Or maybe it was just sitting next to Simon, pretending to have a picnic on the floor of his room, recovering from one of the worst moments of their lives.

“So is this a date? Our official first date?” Simon muttered through a mouthful of takoyaki. Wilhelm slurped his soba noodles and made a face.

“I thought our first official date was when we went to Rosh’s game.” 

“Okay, technically, yeah. But is this our first date after getting back together?”

“If you say it counts,” Wilhelm said. “I’d still like for us to go somewhere, like that time.”

Simon grinned, pressing closer to Wilhelm. “That would be nice, but… can we? Go out on a date, I mean?”

Wilhelm knew what he meant; despite being public, despite people knowing about them, he was still the Crown Prince, and he couldn’t just go places on a whim. He and Simon couldn’t just leave Hillerska and go to that little Japanese restaurant in Linköping whenever they pleased; there were logistics and security protocols. 

But if Erik managed to do it, and he did multiple times, then so could Wilhelm. Hopefully.

“Yes,” he replied. “I mean, it involves more planning than normal, but we can work something out.”

Simon nodded. “Good, because now that I think about it, the football match doesn’t count.”

“No! What?”

“Sorry, but Ayub and Rosh were there. It doesn’t count.”

“Damnit… Now I have to be nervous about our first date again? Not fair…”

“Idiot.”

They ate in silence for a minute, enjoying the food and being together. They both struggled a bit with the chopsticks, making fun of themselves as they tried different techniques to hold them. Wilhelm made a mental note that Simon liked the takoyaki the most, and disliked the tempura squid. 

He was waiting until after they finished their picnic date before telling him the rest of the important stuff. But he kept thinking about it, going over everything that was discussed during the meetings, and that he now had to share with Simon. Wilhelm chewed his food slowly; he felt a bit sick again, like he couldn’t swallow; it took him a moment to feel like he could get the food down.

“Wille, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just haven’t eaten much in days, so my stomach feels a bit weird…” He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t entirely telling the truth. “Also, after we’re done eating, we have to talk about a lot of things, and I’m just… Are you sure you can stay?” 

“Yeah, absolutely. I want to be here with you. Also I don’t want to go home and see Sara right now. So this works out. But… we won’t get in trouble for me being here, will we?”

“No. It’s fine. I think the Royal Court should have spoken with the headmistress already.”

Simon looked surprised. “They can do that?”

Wilhelm glanced down at what was left of his soba noodles and put them aside. He was really not hungry anymore. He turned on his spot to face Simon and took a deep breath.

“Well, you’re gonna be hearing a lot from the Royal Court, so get ready.”

“A lot? More than I already do?” Simon joked humorlessly. Wilhelm bit his lip. 

“Let me preface this by saying that I made it very, very clear to the Royal Court and my mother that you are not under any circumstances to be pressured to do anything that you don’t want to do.” 

“Okay…” Simon put his food aside too. Wilhelm cleared his throat nervously.

“Okay, um… so… the Royal Court are going to support us, basically because I left them with no choice. That means they are going to do everything they can to ensure that you are seen as a good match… for me.”

Simon’s expression was annoyed but also amused. “A good match? Like in a Jane Austen novel?”

Wilhelm let out a chuckle. “Yeah, kind of. Ummm… for now they’re going to set up a meeting with you and your mum as soon as possible to talk about the next steps, and things that you would need to know, like security measures, protocols… they’ll want as much information from you, to know as much as they can about you and your family… They sort of already know a lot, but they still ask.”

The amusement slowly disappeared from Simon’s face. His eyes were fixed on Wilhelm’s face, but not really looking.

Wilhelm bit his lip. They had never really spoken about Simon’s family, why his parents divorced, why they reacted the way they reacted when his father showed up on St Lucia night. But he guessed the family rift had something to do with the pills that Simon took from his father. The pills that August now had, the pills that he dangled in Wilhelm’s face, threatened him with… threatened Simon…

Simon would tell him about it when he felt comfortable. If he ever did.

“They don’t need to know anything you don’t want to tell them, though,” he reassured him. “The point is that they support us.”

”Okay, but… there’s a reason they didn’t want me to have anything to do with you, and… that reason still exists,” Simon said, his voice low. Wilhelm shook his head.

“It’s not what you’re probably thinking. It’s because you’re a boy.”

At last Simon met Wilhelm’s eyes, but he looked even sadder now. Wilhelm gave him a self-deprecating half-smile. 

“It’s the monarchy, Simon, it’s traditionally not compatible with queerness. But they’re not going to say that, of course.”

A tentative hand coiled around his forearm and gave a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

Wilhelm stared at the fingers pressing on his skin. He took Simon’s hand between his own and smiled for real this time. “It’s fine.”

Simon seemed to be about to say something else, but stopped himself. Wilhelm gave Simon’s hand a squeeze and continued.

“Anyway, they now need to make sure that you’re safe, and that you’re not constantly harassed by photographers and reporters. Let’s face it, the media is just going to get more and more relentless. So the Royal Court are going to discuss with you and your mum the possibility of you… boarding at Hillerska.”

Simon nodded slowly, thoughtful. “And they expect me to afford this how?”

“No, of course you don’t have to be able to afford it. The Royal Court would help you through the process of applying for a grant. Like,” Wilhelm hesitated before finishing, “like Sara did.” Simon subtly winced at the name. 

“Sara got help from August. He put in a good word for her,” he said in a bitter mutter.

“I know. And the Royal Court is going to appeal on your behalf, which is more solid than any word from August. It’s guaranteed that if the Court helps you, you’re in.”

Simon groaned and pulled his hand out of Wilhelm’s grip, rubbing his face in exasperation. “I don’t want special treatment, Wille,” he groaned. “And I don’t want to live here. I never wanted to live here, and I don’t want to live here now.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard. His index fingernail absently scratched at the cuticle of his thumb. 

“Okay.”

Simon huffed and leaned back against the spare bed, his head falling back onto the edge of the mattress. “I don’t want to move out of my house yet and leave my mum alone. And I don’t want to hang out with anyone here. I don’t really like anyone here, except you.”

“I get it.”

Simon bit his lip, pulling his knees up to his chest. His knees bobbed up and down. 

“Again, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Wilhelm repeated. Simon closed his eyes and his knees stilled. 

“But it’s a safety thing, right? And a privacy thing.”

Wilhelm nodded. “It’s because… reporters and photographers might still come by all the time, and harass you in public, outside the school, outside your house, and we wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, because there’s no law preventing them from taking photos of you when you’re in public spaces. They might get fined though, depending on the situation, but they’ll still do it anyway. And the Royal Court can’t have you being escorted all the time. Not at this point at least.” 

‘At this point’ being not legally a part of the royal family, which would only happen if Simon and Wilhelm ever got married and Wilhelm was still Crown Prince. Of course Wilhelm wasn’t going to bring that up at that instant. 

Simon stared into space, his brow creased.

“Could I at least go back home on weekends?” Simon muttered. Wilhelm felt a flicker of hope. 

“Yeah, of course. You wouldn’t have to live here all the time. You can even go home during the week, if you want. It’s a boarding house, not a prison.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “You used to think this place was a prison.”

“That’s because I was literally left in the middle of nowhere. My house is over two hours away in Stockholm, yours is less than fifteen minutes away.”

Simon fell silent again for a long moment.

“And… would you be allowed to come with me to my house on weekends?” 

Hope blossomed in his chest again, and Wilhelm’s face split into the biggest smile. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, turning pink again. 

“Oh were you?” Simon teased. Wilhelm pretended to clear his throat and become serious.

”Yes, you know, for security reasons. If I come with you to your house, and stay over, my security team has to come with me, and they can protect you while they protect me.”

Simon was nodding in agreement. “It’s totally a matter of security.”

“Absolutely.”

Simon gently nudged Wilhelm’s knee with his own. Wilhelm cleared his throat.

“And obviously you don’t have to have me over every weekend, you probably want to spend time alone with your… your mum and your friends, but I’d still drop you off and pick you up. So you don’t have to be hounded on the bus. I mean, you’re free to do whatever you want, and the hounding will probably die down at some point, but… I wouldn’t mind.”

“How chivalrous of you,” Simon teased. 

Wilhelm reached for the box of ube cookies and opened it, offering them to Simon. 

“You don’t have to decide right now. You should talk about it with your mum. And whatever you decide, we’ll make it work.”

Simon accepted a cookie and smiled. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “What else?”

Wilhelm started munching on a cookie. “Well… since the process of the grant application might take a while, even with the Court’s intervention, they suggest that you temporarily room with me.”

Simon stopped mid-bite. “Wait, what?”

“Again, you don’t have to decide yet, you can talk about it with your mum. But if you agree, the Court would put a special request to the school board to let you stay temporarily, citing security reasons.”

Simon looked bewildered. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Or they’ve gone mental. You’re telling me that the Royal Court, your mum, is cool with me rooming with you.”

Wilhelm shrugged. “Apparently so.”

“Your mum… and the Royal Court… are chill about us, two… horny teenage boys, who are dating… living together.”

Wilhelm blushed, noticing that Simon was blushing too. “Well, when you put it that way, I may have misunderstood. Maybe rooming with me is an option, but you might get your own room, or room with someone else, I guess, depending on what’s available.”

“Oh fuck no. If I have to room with anyone else here, I’m sorry but I’m moving to another fucking country.”

Wilhelm let out a snort. Simon laughed too. 

“I’m guessing that they know we’ll… get together anyway, no matter where they put you,” Wilhelm started, still pink. “That’s probably why they’re thinking of Forest Ridge and not Sprucewood. They know we’ll be… sleeping with each other… and they probably don’t want people to see us sneaking into each other’s rooms all the time… I mean, it’s not against the rules, because guess what, the rules never contemplated same sex couples, so there’s nothing about boys having sleepovers, but they’re probably not too fond of us being seen, even if it’s technically not against the outdated rulebook.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Simon chuckled. “Still, living together, even if just for a while, would be kind of weird, wouldn’t it?”

“You don’t want to live with me?” Wilhelm asked, pouting as if he were crushed. 

Simon laughed again. “Not yet, no. We’re only sixteen.” 

“Oh, so in the future.” 

“Well… yeah… if you play your cards right.” 

They were both grinning. An image of the two of them in a bigger bed, somewhere in a flat in Stockholm or a dorm room in uni, flashed before Wilhelm’s eyes, only it looked a lot like Wilhelm’s bed back at Drottningholm.

They finished their cookies and gathered all the empty food containers and bottles and put them back in the paper bags, careful not to spill any sauces. Wilhelm shoved them into the wastepaper basket to take out the next day. 

“Is that all?” Simon asked as they washed their hands in the little sink. Wilhelm dried off and sat on the bed, leaning against the wall, and slumped his shoulders. Simon scooted to his side. 

“Well… again, brace yourself for a lot, and I mean a lot, of protocol and safety and security measures explanations. There might be some media training along the way, perhaps some… etiquette training… and they’re probably going to talk a lot about the future…”

“The future?” Simon repeated, uneasy.

“Yeah, like long-term plans and stuff.”

“Long-term plans…?

“Would you stop repeating everything I say? It’s awkward enough, and it’s ridiculous, I know. We’re only sixteen, we’re first years. I know it sounds stupid, but that’s how they work.”

“I’m just trying to understand. Long-term plans as in…”

“As in they want to know what we’re planning to do once we graduate, what universities we’re considering, where we’ll live, what the next ten to twenty years will be… together…”

Simon let out something between a bewildered chuckle and an indignant scoff. “I don’t even know what I’m wearing tomorrow, since I didn’t bring other clothes… and they want to know all of that?”

Wilhelm was used to this, the inner workings of the Royal Court, the way they approached everything so clinically.

“That’s because you’re normal, Simon. They are an outdated machinery, they only think about these things. It’s what they do. They already agreed that you’ll be a match for me, but they’ll do what they have to do to make you the ‘perfect’ match that they want. So don’t give into them. Do not give into their demands if you don’t want to. Got that? If you allow them to, if you give them even the slightest chance, they’ll take over your entire life. Do not give in.”

Simon searched his face, hoping for a glint of mischief. “You’re not joking,” he said. Wilhelm wished he was.

“No.”

Simon sat there staring into empty space for a few seconds, stunned, before falling sideways with his face buried into Wilhelm’s pillow. “Fuck… why did I have to fall in love with a prince…” he mumbled into it. 

Normally, Simon mentioning being in love with him would make Wilhelm’s insides flutter. But not now. 

This was when Erik’s unfulfilled relationships went flat, when the weight of the crown was too scary for potential girlfriends, where they considered their choices and walked away. 

Had Erik even gotten the chance to be in love?

The last time they had spoken, when Erik caught on that Wilhelm was staying back at Hillerska for someone, even Wilhelm hadn’t known he was in love yet.

And now all of this…

This was too much, Simon hated it, hated everything about it. Why wouldn’t he? These were the same people that had made them miserable, the people behind hiding August’s involvement, the people who had forced him to lie to the world and betray Simon, who had taken Simon’s song away from him, who wanted to pretend that there was absolutely no connection between them. 

And now they were supposed to trust them? He was supposed to ask Simon to be okay with them? For him?

You’re the one who can’t accept my position, who I am, my family.

No… maybe I can’t.

Simon’s words from that day in the locker room echoed in his mind. The words that made Wilhelm’s world finish crumbling. 

It was one thing for Simon to be angry at him for what he had done. It was another thing for Simon to point out the great divide between them, and tell him that that’s how it should remain, that there was no bridging that divide. Not from his point of view, at least. 

It was Simon telling him “this isn’t worth it.”

It was Wilhelm realizing that there was no hope.

Because even if he could have, by some miracle, gotten over Simon, he was still a prince who had a role to fulfill, he was still trapped, still unable to choose whom he wanted to love. 

Wilhelm felt like he was asphyxiating. 

“Hey,” Simon said softly. He was looking up at him from where his face was still half-buried in the pillow. “Wille?”

Wilhelm blinked hard and scooted off the bed. “Hmm? What? Hang on, I’m gonna open a window to get rid of the food smell.”

He leaned over the desk and opened the window a crack; cold air hit him in the face and filled his lungs. His chest felt tight. 

He heard Simon get up to and felt his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, you know that, right?” He tugged gently until Wilhelm turned to face him. “I’m just a little overwhelmed. You did warn me that you had a lot to tell me.”

“I’m sorry that it’s so much,” Wilhelm said, leaning against the desk. Simon stood between his knees and looked up at him. 

“It’s fine. We’ll deal with it one step at a time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Simon snaked his arms around his waist, his body flush with Wilhelm’s, and Wilhelm hugged him back, breathed him in. 

They stayed like that, hugging, Simon rubbing his face on the shoulder of Wilhelm’s sweater. Wilhelm breathed in Simon’s scent. He wanted to pinch himself, to make sure this was real. Everything had felt so hopeless so recently, how could this be real?

“You okay?” Simon asked again, mumbling into his shoulder, one hand rubbing comforting circles on his back. Wilhelm gave a little nod. How could he not be okay when he was in Simon’s arms again?

“I know you’ve already said the word ‘boyfriends’ multiple times, but I kind of wanted to make it official,” he asked, feeling brave.

Simon lifted his face and smiled up at him. “Really? So you’re all cheesy and old-fashioned now?” He teased. Wilhelm chuckled.

“Well, I am part of the monarchy, it doesn’t get more old-fashioned than that.” He touched his forehead to Simon’s, felt a jolt of electricity as he did. “Simon… can I be your boyfriend?”

Simon hid his rapidly reddening face in his hands and into Wilhelm’s shoulder, and let out a low, breathy laugh. 

“Oh, now who’s old-fashioned? Look at you blushing like a character in a Jane Austen novel. The only thing missing is us standing in the rain,” Wilhelm teased him, feeling a delicious warmth in his chest. Simon was shaking with giggles. 

“I was… surprised, by the way you asked. I guess I was expecting you to say ‘would you be my boyfriend’?”

“Yeah, I know, I like to break norms.”

“I’m well aware.” Simon smiled. “Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

“I’d love that.”

Simon tilted his head up. There was something so comforting about the way that his face softened, the way that his breath slowed down. The tension and the hopelessness crushing Wilhelm started melting away. He leaned down, and Simon’s lips met his. 

“Thank you for staying,” he whispered. He didn’t only mean now, he wasn’t only referring to Simon spending the night, or that he stayed in Hillerska all afternoon, probably bored out of his mind waiting for him to arrive; but also, despite the ton of information that Wilhelm had just dumped on him, Simon was still there, still wanting to be with him, still wanting to be his boyfriend. 

“Thank you for having me. Now… can we… make up for lost time?” Simon asked, playing with the hem of Wilhelm’s sweater. Wilhelm felt another jolt of electricity through his whole body.

“Yes please,” he whispered with a half-smile, leaning to down to kiss him again. He had promised, and he was not about to break this promise or any promise ever again.

Enthusiastic fingers tugged his sweater and his shirt up and over his head and roamed his chest and back, as they kissed their way back to the bed. Wilhelm allowed himself to be sat down and straddled again, ardent kisses and nips landing all over his neck and jaw. His own eager hands removed Simon’s purple hoodie and t-shirt, pulling him closer, feeling hot and eager and jittery. 

He whipped them around again, hoping to elicit the same excited reaction again from Simon. This time, instead of a surprised yelp, a breathy laugh escaped Simon’s lips, his eyes crinkling with joy, as Wilhelm laid him down gently. They both shed their trousers, and Simon wrapped his legs around his hips, pulled him down to him, their lips meeting. 

It felt a lot like the first time they had sex, when they were both nervous and excited. 

The last time they had sex, however, they had both been so desperate to love each other one last time, to imprint themselves in each other’s memories for the rest of their lives, that the excitement had waned quickly, replaced by a painful yearning, plagued by the unfairness and hopelessness of it all. 

This time it was exciting again; there was still all the longing, but none of the desperation.

Wilhelm hoped that no one would come looking for them. He wanted nothing to burst this bubble. He threw an apprehensive glance at the window, to make sure that the curtains were closed. The world knew about them now, but this was not for anyone’s eyes. 

Just enjoy it, until everyone decides to have an opinion about it… 

Erik’s words echoed in his mind now, the last conversation that they had. His brother warned him about this, about what he’d have to face, and he hadn’t believed him. Why should the world care whom he loved? But if the desolation he had felt throughout all of the events that unfolded from the day his brother died was any evidence, nothing would have prepared him for it. 

Was he prepared for what was yet to come? Was Simon?

He knew that he wanted this so much, wanted Simon so much, that he was willing to do anything. But it was still up to Simon. It was still up to whether Simon decided if this, if Wilhelm, was worth it. 

And it terrified him.

He felt reassured, however, by the way that Simon shuddered as Wilhelm’s fingers traced their way down his sides; he was reassured by Simon’s fingers threading through Wilhelm’s hair as he slid down his body, peppering kisses on his skin as he went, until he was nestled between Simon’s thighs; he was reassured by Simon lifting his hips when Wilhelm hooked his fingers on the elastic band of his boxer briefs and pulled them off slowly; and he was further reassured by the way that Simon threw his head back and tried to contain his moans, hips bucking desperately, as Wilhelm sank his mouth over his cock over and over, sucking him off at a painfully yet deliciously slow pace, pinning his thighs down to keep him still, to allow him to take care of him. 

The last of his doubts and fears evaporated, at least for a while, when Simon fell back against the pillow, cursing and quivering, his fingers tugging at Wilhelm’s hair gently, silently begging for more, more of this, faster, please, sending shivers up and down Wilhelm’s entire body, until he was finally over the edge.

Wilhelm woke up with Simon wrapped around him, spooning him, forehead pressed to the back of his neck, and the sheets and blanket and quilt tightly wrapped around both, so much that he could barely move. He tried to yank his hand out to glance at his wristwatch, causing Simon to stir.

“We left the window open, it’s fucking freezing,” Simon mumbled, voice drowsy, eyes still closed.

“Shit,” Wilhelm groaned. He managed to look at his watch. It was only past nine. They had been asleep for almost two hours.

He wiggled some more, but Simon clung to him and groaned. “Hmmmnooo… don’t move… I’ll freeze.”

“If I don’t close that window, they’ll find our bodies in the morning.”

“Hmmmmph… okay, hurry.”

Wilhelm curled himself into a ball and crawled under the covers to the foot of the bed, which was really the head of the bed usually; for whatever reason, when he was with Simon, they disregarded the bed’s original orientation. He emerged on the other end and lifted his upper body out, shivering immediately at the cold air on his skin. Simon winced and drew his feet up further under the covers. 

“Grrr, I can’t reach it,” Wilhelm whined, trying to grab the handle of the window. “Fuck, I’m gonna have to stand up.”

“Hurry up.”

Wilhelm wiggled out completely, feeling the cold hit his naked body like a bucket of ice water. He yanked the window closed, then rushed back to the bed.

“Let me in, let me in,” he begged. Simon laughed and lifted the covers up so that Wilhelm could get under them, opening his arms to welcome him into the warmth. Wilhelm collapsed into his arms, the covers fluttering down on top of them. 

“Uuuurrrgh, I’ll never be warm again,” Wilhelm moaned, teeth chattering. Simon rubbed his hands up and down Wilhelm’s body.

“How did you get so cold so fast?” He asked, kissing his face, rubbing their noses together. “Your face is freezing.”

“Hmmm, keep doing that, maybe I’ll survive.”

They stayed like that until the room temperature was tolerable again, Wilhelm threw the blue blanket around himself to fetch the box of ube cookies, and they cuddled under the covers munching on the leftovers.

“Hey, do you want to talk about last night?” Simon asked tentatively. 

Wilhelm blinked, confused. Time had become sort of warped, dragging on since Sunday evening. Somehow it was still Tuesday.

“Last night?”

“We fell asleep on video call, but before that you were talking… about your mum… and your brother…”

“Oh yeah… don’t worry about that.”

”But you… you said some stuff, and I was worried about you… you were not in a good place.”

Wilhelm pushed his hair out of his face. He really didn’t want to talk about that now, not in the postcoital bliss that they were comfortably wrapped up in. But he didn’t want Simon to think he was avoiding the subject. 

“I’m sorry you were worried. I was just getting things off my chest, but… it’s fine. I’m fine.” It was the truth; talking to Simon helped him realize that he needed to talk about those things with his mother. And he did, and he felt… somewhat better.

Simon lay on his side, facing Wilhelm. “Are you sure?”

Wilhelm grabbed his hand, which was lying on top of the covers, and pulled it to his chest. He told him about the conversation with his mother, about how he was honest with her, and how she was somewhat honest with him too. 

“I mean… I know she loves me no matter what, even though she doesn’t really like me, but at least she’s… trying.” He gave a half-smile. “It’s not great, but we see more eye to eye now. And I got her to do something about your safety, and for her to finally invite me into the meetings. I consider that a win.”

Again, Simon stopped himself from saying something. 

“Simon, it’s fine, honestly,” Wilhelm said. Simon gave a sad smile and nestled his head on Wilhelm’s shoulder.

“For what it’s worth, I love you and I like you,” he said, looking up at him, making Wilhelm grin like a Cheshire cat.

“Are you kidding? That’s worth everything,” he replied, pecking the corner of his lips. “I love you and I like you too.”

They were starting to fall asleep again. Wilhelm grumbled that he had to go to the bathroom, and they had to brush their teeth.  Simon reluctantly complied, and they rolled out of bed. Wilhelm found joggers and t-shirts in his wardrobe for them to wear.

They poked their head out into the hallway; voices drifted from the common room. Making sure the coast was clear, they made their way to the bathroom, which was empty. Simon groaned that he’d have to get used to common bathrooms if he moved there, and not wanting to run into anyone in the middle of the night. 

“You won’t run into August or Vincent here, I can assure you,” Wilhelm whispered as he flushed and turned to the sinks. “The third years have their own bathrooms in their floor. This one is for the first years only.”

“There are some first years that I don’t want to run into either,” Simon grumbled. Wilhelm hummed in agreement. 

They went back to Wilhelm’s room. Wilhelm fished his toothbrush from one of his bags, which sat unpacked on the spare bed, forgotten; Simon got his toothbrush too, which he always carried in his backpack. They stood at the sink, shoulder to shoulder, brushing their teeth and smiling at each other in the mirror, and when they finished, they both put their toothbrushes in the little cup by the faucet. Simon’s blue toothbrush next to Wilhelm’s orange one. 

Wilhelm unpacked the rest of the contents of his bags. Simon took off his t-shirt, folding it neatly before laying it on the spare bed,  then got into bed and watched as Wilhelm moved around the room, putting his stuff away. The last thing in the bag was his journal, which he shoved to the bottom of his desk drawer. He then took off his own t-shirt and put it back in the closet, turned off the night lamp and climbed into bed.

“I really doubt this is what the Royal Court had in mind when they suggested that I board here,” Simon said, laying back against the pillow and cradling Wilhelm in his arms, who wrapped himself around him. 

“Well, I can’t help it if I took away whatever the hell I wanted from that meeting. If they didn’t want any misunderstandings, they should have had me in the meetings from the start, shouldn’t they?” Wilhelm answered. Simon laughed and kissed Wilhelm’s forehead.

“I guess we’ll find out soon… Tomorrow’s going to be weird and long and…” he trailed off.

“Yeah… These past few days have been a lot… maybe I should talk to Boris tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you probably should.”

Wilhelm gave a low hum, his lips grazing Simon’s chest. The events of Saturday morning flashed through his mind; the meeting with August and Alexander, August’s smug face, holding a gun to his chest, to his head, Simon silently taking a step back, feeling anger coursing through his body, Sara’s voice, the look on Simon’s face…

“Do you think I have anger issues?” He mumbled. Simon stroked his hair soothingly.

“I don’t know about anger issues, but… you are temperamental. But so I am, probably.” 

“It’s just… on Saturday… I felt like I lost it.” 

“You didn’t lose it, otherwise he would’ve gotten shot… I think you were justifiably angry. I know I was.”

Something dark crossed Wilhelm’s face. “I… I’m not violent… But it’s like… he’s my tipping point.” 

“Not surprised.”

“But I know I shouldn’t have done that. I know I have issues, and that I have to deal with them.”

“That’s good.”

Wilhelm lifted his face to meet Simon’s eyes. “But I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

Simon smiled and caressed his cheek. “I know,” he said. “I would never hurt you either.”

Wilhelm smiled, until he remembered something and decided to tease Simon. Simon caught him making a face and gave him a pointed look. “What?” 

“Well…”

“What?” Simon repeated louder. Wilhelm bit his lip. 

“You did throw a ball at me, really hard.”

Simon’s mouth fell open in indignation, eyes narrowed. “Oh for fuck’s sake, I can’t believe you’re bringing that up.” 

“You chucked it at me. On purpose. And it really hurt,” Wilhelm said, pouting his lips. Simon scoffed.

“Alright, you big baby. Says the guy who headbutted a stranger in a bar and got sent to boarding school.” 

“That’s different. That guy was harassing me, it was self-defense.” 

“Yeah, yeah…”

Wilhelm laid his head back down on Simon’s chest, smirking. Now that he thought about it, if it hadn’t been for the brawl he got involved in back in Stockholm, and the people who recorded it and posted it online, he wouldn’t have ended up at Hillerska. On the one hand, his life was one scandalous violation of privacy after another, his face splattered across social media, with major repercussions. On the other hand, he met Simon.

“Were you jealous that time?” He whispered. 

“Hmm, what?” Simon asked. He sounded like he was starting to fall asleep again. 

“When you threw the ball at me.”

Simon groaned. “God, no, let’s not-”

”You were. It’s okay,” Wilhelm cut him off, smirking. “You can be the jealous type.”

“I’m not,” Simon retorted, playfully jabbing a finger into Wilhelm’s cheek. Wilhelm wrapped himself tighter around him.

His thoughts drifted back to Saturday morning. He wanted to talk to Boris about that, but he didn’t know how to bring it up without revealing what had happened. He suddenly felt tense. 

“I thought that you would never look at me the same way.” 

“What?”

“When I pointed the gun at August.”

Simon let out a long, loud exhale. “Nah, I was angry too. You can be angry, you just can’t let it push you to that edge again.”

Wilhelm scoffed. “It’s August.”

”I know. He’s very lucky that nothing else happened.”

“I wasn’t going to shoot him, though.”

”I knew that. But he didn’t. And…” Simon trailed off. Wilhelm assumed her was going to say that Sara didn’t know either. Did Sara really think him capable of it? Or did her guilt win over?

Wilhelm tensed again. What if Sara hadn’t spoken up? What if August had continued to refuse to confess? “What if I had shot him? Accidentally.”

Simon’s fingers paused mid-combing of Wilhelm’s hair.

“Then… I would have helped you bury the body.”

Wilhelm lifted his head again to stare at Simon and chuckled at the nonchalant look on his face, as if saying ‘what’s the big deal’.

”I hope he’s scared of you forever.” 

Wilhelm nodded, although he wasn’t too sure. August knew that he still held an ace up his sleeve with the pill bottle he showed him at the palatset, he knew that he still had him and Simon pinned, and so he was still very confident, almost brazen in his portrayal of the new backup in front of his parents and the Royal Court on the morning of the jubilee. Wilhelm may have managed to turn the tables on him, but he still couldn’t completely get rid of August. 

“I did spit on him. After you left. That made me feel a little bit better.”

“Good,” Simon said after a long pause. 

Wilhelm burst out laughing. “Really?”

“I think you at least should’ve kicked him in the head.”

“Wow, I did not know this side of you.”

Simon hesitated. “Okay, full disclosure, I… once knocked him to the ground and smashed his face on the grass and sat on his back.”

Wilhelm’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?… Wait… What?” He had to sit up. Simon turned red.

“It was… back when he was refusing to pay me for the booze that I got him, for your initiation party. He was being all smug and an asshole, no surprise there, but… I lost it. That’s when he confessed that he had money problems. But I didn’t care, I was so mad.”

“And you roughed him up,” Wilhelm said, mouth agape. “No wonder he hates you so much. You’re half his size and you threw him to the ground and sat on him!”

“It’s not funny!” Simon retorted, although he couldn’t keep a straight face. 

“It’s actually hilarious.”

“No, it’s not,” Simon said, becoming serious again. “Ayub and Rosh were with me. They looked at me strangely, like… they were disappointed. They said that being in an elite school was doing things to me.”

Wilhelm’s own smile disappeared. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? It’s exactly what I’m afraid of, about moving here. Look at what happened to Sara,” Simon mumbled bitterly. 

Wilhelm shook his head. “That’s different. You’re different.”

“Maybe, but still…”

Wilhelm stared at him. He remembered how he felt about starting at Hillerska himself, fearing how it would make him different. He thought of the night of his initiation party, the hazing ritual that permanently scarred him, forcing himself to have fun when all he wanted was to get away from all of them, away from his ‘peers’, drinking enough so that he could tolerate them, sneaking away from August and the other kids sucking up to him, and sneaking into a secluded area with Simon, just wanting to get to know him, not knowing what to do about his feelings at that moment. He remembered, in his drunken haze, asking him if he was happy here, and Simon simply answered by asking the same question right back at him. 

He took Simon’s hands and interlaced their fingers. “I don’t want you to feel like that. And I don’t want to feel like that either. We have to do better. We’re not like the others here, and we’re definitely not like August.” 

Simon nodded. “No, we’re not.”

“We will keep each other in line, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Wilhelm laid back down and wrapped himself again around Simon. 

“Unless we really have to kill August, then we help each other bury the body,” he said just before he started getting sleepy again.

“Agreed,” Simon mumbled back.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Wilhelm woke up and groaned. It was Wednesday and they had class. The week felt endless. He just wanted a fucking break. 

Simon stirred beside him and rolled onto his back. Light filtered through a gap between the curtains, and a thin strip of sunshine made the side of Simon’s face glow. 

“Hey,” Wilhelm whispered.

Simon gave a little croak as he stretched like a cat before also letting out a breathy ‘hey’.

”Did you sleep well?” Wilhelm asked, laying on his side and propping his head on his elbow, to look at Simon. No one should be allowed to look this beautiful after just waking up. His curls were a mess, eyes half-closed and a bit puffy, and yet he looked ethereal.  

A small smile pulling at the corners of Simon’s mouth and he nodded lazily. “You?”

Wilhelm would have said that this was the best sleep he had in a long time, that waking up next to him, knowing that they were together again, was everything he didn’t know he had dreamed of. 

But he didn’t say it, afraid to jinx it, afraid to burst his own bubble. Maybe he was just dreaming. 

Simon reached out a hand to brush Wilhelm’s hair out of his face, his fingers threading through it to comb it back, and Wilhelm smiled because it was real, it wasn’t a dream. 

“You okay?” Simon asked, his thumb brushing over his cheek. 

Wilhelm leaned down to kiss him tenderly, feeling Simon’s slow breath tickling his face. He was more than okay. It was still early, they didn’t have to rush to have breakfast, so they had some time to be alone.

“Hey, I thought about it, I slept on it,” Simon started, his voice low and drowsy. Wilhelm tensed. 

“Oh?” 

Simon bit his lip, trying to hide a playful smile. “I’ll do it. I’ll move here.”

Wilhelm contained his own smile, not wanting to get too excited. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you don’t have to do anything you don’t-”

“I know. I want to.”

“It’s a big sacrifice,” Wilhelm added. He wanted to make sure that Simon knew what it entailed, he wanted him to be certain. He’d hate himself if Simon had any regrets. But Simon shook his head. 

“It’s not that big. I’m sorry I made it seem like a bigger deal. But I can adjust. My mum will understand, I think. And… things back home are weird. I don’t want to be around Sara right now. I’d like to be as far away from her as possible, at least for now.” He looked bitter for a moment, but then he rolled onto his side, pressing his body to Wilhelm’s. “Plus, I like this. I like waking up with you.”

“I like this too.”

“I’ll talk to my mum. I’m guessing that the Royal Court will come and discuss with us everything you said, but I’ll make sure that my mum understands that I’m already on board.”

Wilhelm suspected that it would take a lot more convincing. He knew from Felice that it was not easy for Sara to appease Linda about moving to Hillerska, even when Sara was old enough to decide for herself. Who knew if Linda would even give Simon permission? What parent would let their teen son literally move into a dorm with his boyfriend? 

“You’ll be there too, right?” Simon asked. Wilhelm nodded.

“If that’s alright with you. Someone needs to act as a buffer between you and whoever my mum sends.”

“Ugh, it better not be Jan-Olof.”

Wilhelm chuckled. “Nah, he doesn’t handle these matters. It’ll probably be Minou. She’s nicer than him, no doubt, but I trust that you two will be butting heads once you get to know each other.”

“I’m ready to butt heads from the start. This isn’t my first rodeo with the Royal Court.”

“Oooh, then maybe you don’t need me there. You can take on Minou.”

“Don’t you fucking dare try to get out of this.”

“I’m kidding. I wouldn’t miss this, I can’t wait to see her face when she realizes how feisty you can be.”

“Who are you calling feisty?” Simon protested, scoffing and grinning, playfully shoving Wilhelm’s shoulder. Wilhelm pretended to fall unconscious, until a giggling Simon grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Wilhelm leaned over him and rubbed his nose tenderly against Simon’s before grazing his lips with his own. 

“I’ll be there, yes, but… it is whatever you decide,” he said. Simon pulled him down by the neck for another kiss.

“My mind’s pretty made up now, so you’re basically stuck with me,” he whispered.

“Ugh, no, what have I gotten myself into,” Wilhelm joked, eliciting a giggle from his boyfriend, kissing him again. 

His boyfriend.

Wilhelm deepened the kiss, his hand slowly making its way down Simon’s body. He wished so badly to skip class, to stay here in bed and worship every inch of Simon. 

His fingers made it past the elastic band of the boxer briefs, his hand stroking gently down the length of Simon’s erection, making him shiver. He stroked him slowly at first, Simon’s hips bucking, moaning softly into his mouth as they kissed, breathless. 

“Is this how it’s going to be every morning now?” Simon asked, panting quietly. Wilhelm gave him a mischievous smile. 

“If you want. We have a lot of lost time to make up for yet.”

“I didn’t really need any more convincing.”

Their breaths fell in synch. Simon writhed blissfully beneath him, clinging to his back, kissing him eagerly, as Wilhelm quickened the pace of his strokes. 

Pretty soon they’d have to rejoin the world outside, go back to reality, face whatever the day and the rest of his life had in store for him; so for now he wanted to soak up every last bit of alone time with Simon that he could. 

Simon came with a shuddering gasp against Wilhelm’s smiling lips.

Notes:

So part 2 of this chapter starts like I think many of us hope that season 3 starts out: RIGHT WHERE IT LEFT OFF.

Please let me know what you think of this one (or you can wait until you finish the other part, if you prefer. I don’t mind, do whatever you want, all comments are welcome). I do hope you enjoyed this part.

On to part 2!

Chapter 6: …and I’ll give it all up

Summary:

Wilhelm’s POV still. The conversation that he dreaded, the results of the meetings, and a lot of overthinking. But Boris is there to give some good advice, and Simon is stronger than Wilhelm gives him credit for.

Part two of a two part chapter.

Notes:

Part two of the two part chapter, my Easter gift (even though it’s not Easter anymore, it’s late and I should be sleeping).
So again, these two chapters are chock-full of many many of my headcanons for season 3. Bear in mind that, as much as I have done my research, I find that there’s very little (at least to the detail that I would like) about some of the more technical aspects of the Swedish monarchy, so I can only rely on what I found and on the information shared by wonderful Tumblr users such as skamenglishsubs, etc. So if there are any imprecisions, bear in mind that this is my YR universe within the Lisa Ambjörn YR universe.
Also I particularly loved writing the dialogue in both of these. This is the level of cutesy banter that I want Wilmon to be having in season 3. I love me some drama and some very needed love scenes, but I also need them to be idiots in love, teasing each other and being just adorbs.
I must really apologize for the length of this one, which is over 15k long. Now you see why it took me so long, between the writing and the editing? (which clearly I did not do a good enough job if it still clocked in at 15k+ words).
TW: anxiety, anxiety-related food aversion, panic attacks, low self-esteem.
Rating change: no smut in this one, though. Sorry. But fear not! More fluff and smut in upcoming chapters.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The bubble burst.

As soon as they stepped out of the room, it was back to reality. Wilhelm wasn’t mentally prepared for it. But there was no choice.

A freshly-fucked Simon was difficult to coax out of bed, so Wilhelm started muttering vivid descriptions of breakfast foods in his ear until Simon could almost smell them and taste them and became hungry enough to comply. 

Wilhelm let him go through his wardrobe to pick something to wear; Simon selected a plain cream-colored polo shirt, although he covered it up with his own purple hoodie, and wore his own black jeans. Still, there was something about the brief sight of his boyfriend wearing his shirt that changed his mood completely. 

As they got ready, Wilhelm went over any viable excuse that would allow them both to skip class and stay in the room all day, but there was none. Pouting dejectedly, he grabbed the door handle. 

“One second,” Simon stopped him before he opened the door.

“What?” Wilhelm asked.

Simon pulled him down to his lips by the collar of his jacket, and Wilhelm’s fingers immediately latched to his hips. It was a long, deep kiss, like coming back up for air after a dive. Wilhelm’s eyes fluttered open.

“Thank you very much. What was that for?”

“I needed that to… gather strength.”

“I see. Well, I hope it worked for you, because now I’m weak in the knees.”

Simon smiled that crinkly-eyed smile of his and shoved him playfully. They went out. 

He could swear that, as soon as they entered the dining hall, everyone stopped talking and turned to stare. 

“Wille!” Vincent exclaimed in lieu of a greeting. He put a hand up for a high-five. 

“Hi, Vincent,” Wilhelm replied, blatantly bypassing his hand. Vincent made a face and put his hand down.

Wilhelm could feel everyone’s eyes on them as he and Simon made their way to the line to get food. Conversations restarted, but voices were suspiciously lower, a strange hush falling upon the usually loud hall. He caught furtive glances in their direction.

“Ignore them,” Simon whispered.

Everyone was also looking at their phones. Wilhelm guessed it was the statement, which would have been everywhere by now. He had a sudden urge to take a look at the published statement himself, to make sure they hadn’t changed anything without their knowledge. Was he being paranoid, thinking that the Royal Court could do that?

Ahead of them on the line, Nils greeted them politely. Simon smiled awkwardly, then turned to Wilhelm, not knowing what to make of the interaction. Wilhelm merely nodded at Nils, hoping that that was it, that was enough politeness, enough acknowledgment. He had a feeling that Nils would corner him at some point and ask him questions that he wasn’t ready to answer. He didn’t have to answer anyway. This was none of his business. He had more important things to deal with. 

Simon took his plate of food and headed for his usual seat, glancing behind at Wilhelm, like he wanted to make sure that they would sit together. Wilhelm hurried some fruit onto his plate, and went for the vacant seat next to Simon, the one that Henry usually occupied. The other boy was about to set his plate down just as Wilhelm set his own first and pulled back the chair.

“Um, that’s where I usually sit,” Henry said, with a small chuckle.

“I know, but I got here first, sorry,” Wilhelm replied matter-of-factly. Henry seemed perplexed.

“But… this is my…”

“You know you can sit anywhere, don’t you? The seats are not assigned.”

“Uh, yeah, I know, it’s just… I always sit here, and you always sit over there.” Henry pointed at the empty chair on the other side of the table, next to Alexander, who seemed hyper-focused on his food. Wilhelm sighed; Simon looked up almost amused at the two boys.

“I’m well aware, but as I said, we can actually sit wherever we want, and I got here first,” Wilhelm said calmly. Henry looked around, like he was trying to figure out what to do.

“But-”

“Henry, can you please sit somewhere else so I can sit next to Simon?”

Henry blinked a couple of times, like he really could not process what was happening. “Okay,” he finally muttered.

“Thank you.”

To his amusement, Henry did not pick the seat that Wilhelm usually occupied, but instead sat on the other side of Walter, just before Lukas could get there, giving him an apologetic shrug and a smile. A disconcerted Lukas didn’t even protest and simply walked around the table to sit next to Alexander. 

Wilhelm and Simon glanced discreetly at each other as he sat down. Unfortunately, if anyone had stopped paying attention, the little discussion had made them stare again. Wilhelm tried to ignore them and focus on his breakfast. His appetite waned a little. 

To their left, Walter and Henry seemed to be having an intense conversation only with their eyes. They both leaned forward on their chairs to address them both, and Wilhelm braced himself. 

“So you… live here now?” Walter asked Simon.

Simon finished munching on a bite of fruit before answering. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” Walter nodded. He took a sip of juice before casually adding, “and… are you in the same dorm room?”

“For the moment, yeah.”

The two boys nodded. Henry leaned further over, lowering his voice a tad.

“Is that… allowed?” He asked. Simon feigned confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Henry’s eyes flitted between him and Wilhelm. “I mean, can you… board in the same room… when you’re…”

“What?”

“When you’re… a couple?”

There was something in hearing someone else refer to them as a couple, but also something about the hesitancy in Henry’s voice. Simon nonchalantly chewed on a piece of bread and shrugged. 

“I guess we’ll soon find out.”

Henry looked so confused, that Wilhelm almost laughed. But his smile faded when August walked in.

Wilhelm hadn’t seen August since he got back, hadn’t seen him since August had beamed proudly as he stood up to walk to the podium, before Wilhelm stood up only a second later and forced him to sit back down, denying August his chance to shine, catching a last glimpse of his disconcerted face from the podium as he nervously began his speech. Then August’s face faded in the background, of the moment, of his mind, and he did not give him a single thought again. 

Until he had to think about him again, until he became a part of the discussion again. Unfortunately.

And he remembered the look on August’s face as he held up the pill bottle and threatened to use it against Simon, the look on his face as he begged Wilhelm not to shoot him. The look on his face as he tried to justify what he had done, the video, Sara…

You don’t even want to be crown prince…

Wilhelm might have gotten back at August somewhat for everything that he put them through, but he would never completely get rid of him. Especially knowing that August could still try to screw them over. 

Still, his face now was priceless; August did a double-take when he spotted them at the table, sitting together having breakfast and chatting, and immediately averted his eyes and walked awkwardly to the food table. 

But it did little to make Wilhelm feel better, knowing that they would still see each other all the time, at school, in Forest Ridge…

“You okay?”

Simon had been fixing August with a hardened stare before turning to Wilhelm with a concerned expression.

Wilhelm gave a tiny shrug. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

His appetite waned further when his phone vibrated with a message from Minou.

“She’ll be at your house at four. With a legal counselor and an assistant, to talk to you and your mum.” 

“Yeah, I just got the same message from my mum. She’s asking me to be there earlier.”

“Yeah, you should… talk to you mum before they get there.”

“I will,” Simon said. “I mean, we will, because you’re still coming, right?”

“Of course I am.”

Beneath the table, Simon’s hand found his own and intertwined their fingers. Wilhelm happily continued to eat with only one hand. He didn’t spare another glance in August’s direction. 

“You’re here!” Felice exclaimed, beaming when they both came into the politics classroom, welcoming Wilhelm with open arms. He smiled and walked into her embrace. She and Simon hugged too. 

“Welcome back, Wille,” Madison greeted him. 

“So glad to have you back. This one here was a poor mopey mess in your absence,” Felice said quietly, rubbing Simon’s arm.

“I was not a mopey mess.”

“Admit it, we both were,” Wilhelm said.

“But is everything okay?” Felice asked, glancing at both, a tinge of concern in her voice. Wilhelm twisted his mouth.

“That is a complicated question, and an even more complicated answer, but… let’s just say yes, everything is okay. We can give you  details later, if you’d like.”

“Good, because that sounds so ominous.” She took her seat next to Madison before turning to Simon. “So Henry just told everyone that you moved into Forest Ridge. Is that true?”

Simon threw a look at Henry, who sat in the middle row with Walter jabbering. “Of course he did. Not yet, though. But Wille says the Royal Court is going to ask me.”

“You look thrilled,” Madison joked. Simon rolled his eyes.

“Ecstatic.”

“You’ll be fine,” Felice said. 

“Yeah, I will be.”

Sara walked into the classroom just then. Every single person in the room stopped talking and stared at her. 

She spotted them and went pale, and gave them the most awkward wide berth, beelining toward the furthest corner in the classroom to the only remaining empty seat, next to Lukas. 

Wilhelm felt bad for her. He had no idea what people were actually saying about her, but he guessed it wasn’t nice. 

The awkwardness was interrupted by Miss Åhdal walking in, and students scrambling to their desks. Wilhelm and Simon picked the desk in front of Felice and Madison. Wilhelm and Simon smiled at each other like dorks, as they pulled out their chairs and sat down. It was the first time they sat together in class because they actually wanted to, not because they had no choice. 

“Can I borrow a pencil?” Wilhelm whispered, tapping the top of the Garfield pencil case. Simon grinned and gave him a look.

“Do you need me to open it for you?” He teased. Wilhelm rolled his eyes with a smile.

“You know I only did that to try to get your attention, right?”

“Yes, and it was a terrible attempt.”

Wilhelm grinned and retrieved a pencil from the case and tried to focus on what Miss Åhdal was saying. Out of the corner of his eye, he sensed someone staring. Glancing to the left, he caught Stella’s gaze for half a second before she quickly looked down at her notebook. 

At least she was discreet. Ahead of them, two boys were talking and glancing back so much that Miss Åhdal called them out. Two girls over to the right side of the room were doing the same and got called out too. 

At some point during the class he caught every single one of his classmates stealing a glance at them, whispering about them. Every single one except of course Felice and Madison. Alexander’s gaze was resolutely on the board. Sara seemed to be elsewhere, far away. 

It would be like that for the rest of the day, surely. He would have to do his best to ignore it. 

He noticed Simon glancing over at Sara. But when Sara glanced back, Simon turned back to his book and pretended to be focused on the open page. 

Wilhelm came out of the bathroom during break and headed toward the music room, where he was meeting Simon and Felice. 

He couldn’t help feeling apprehensive as he opened the door; the music room had been the setting for two of their biggest rifts. 

Inside, Simon sat at the piano, playing the Hillerska melody and humming, but he stopped when he heard the door and found Wilhelm watching him with a dopey smile. 

“Keep going,” Wilhelm coaxed him, walking over and sitting beside him on the bench. Simon pouted. 

“I’m still a bit sour that they didn’t let me sing it…” 

Wilhelm looked sad too. “Me too. I’m even madder at myself for not realizing it was about me.” Simon chuckled. 

“How could you not realize it? It was so obvious!”

“It wasn’t to me. Why would I think that you would write a song about me? You were making it abundantly clear that you wanted nothing to do with me, you were dating someone else… why would I think…” Wilhelm’s chest felt tight and painful. Simon said nothing, just took Wilhelm’s hand. Wilhelm stared down at their joined hands and smiled.

“When we kissed… I was on a cloud. I couldn’t believe what just happened,” he added. “So of course I wasn’t paying attention to the lyrics. I was only hearing you sing. You could have been singing the dumbest, most ridiculous song, and I would have been blown away. I love to hear you sing.”

Simon bit his lip and turned pink, leaning against Wilhelm’s shoulder. 

“Do you want to hear it now? So you can pay attention?” He asked. Wilhelm nodded.

”Yes, please.”

 Simon sang his song, softly, a bit slower, graceful fingers gently playing the melody that Wilhelm once taught him to play. Wilhelm listened, enraptured, doing his best to focus on the lyrics, how blatantly they were a love song to him, to their brief and unfortunate romance. Simon blushed as he finished, and Wilhelm was too giddy to even clap, just smiled stupidly. He noted that there was no mention of Hillerska in the lyrics. 

“That’s because this was the original version, before the choir leader told me to change it so that it was actually about the school.” 

“So it was even more obvious from the start…”

“I’m sure it would have gone over your head anyway,” Simon teased him. Wilhelm pretended to be offended. 

“Rude. Seriously, how did you expect me to think properly after kissing me?” He became serious again. “It’s beautiful. You’re so talented… and I… I can’t believe you wrote it about me.”

Simon shrugged and let out a breathy laugh. “I guess it was obvious to some people, like Jan-Olof… ”

Wilhelm could have strangled Jan-Olof. But mostly he felt guilty.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Simon smiled and turned to Wilhelm, leaning in to capture his lips. He curled an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, and Wilhelm felt the air leave his lungs completely, like it had at the Valentine ball. His skin tingled. Every kiss with Simon felt electric. 

The kiss deepened. Their knees bumped as they tried to get closer. Simon had one hand flat against Wilhelm’s lower back, while the other hand threaded through the hair at the back of his neck. Wilhelm stroked Simon’s cheek with one hand, while his other hand was on Simon’s thigh, making its way up the hems of Simon’s hoodie and the cream-colored polo shirt.

The door opened, and they stopped and looked toward the door, but they didn’t pull back or try to hide the fact that they had been kissing. Felice stood there blushing.

“Sorryyy, I should have knocked,” she said in a small embarrassed voice, as she pulled the door closed behind herself. Wilhelm and Simon turned forward again, slightly hot under their collars. 

“That’s fine, as long as you don’t make it a habit of interrupting,” Wilhelm mumbled. 

Felice gasped indignantly. “You’re the one who told me to meet you here!”

“Oh… that’s right, I did.”

“Don’t blame me for you cockblocking yourself.”

“I wasn’t-” 

“We weren’t-”

Wilhelm and Simon stumbled over their words, bright red. Felice threw them a sideways glance and pulled up a chair.

“Yeah right, like nothing would’ve continued to happen if I hadn’t walked in. Soooo,” she said in a sing-song voice. “What’s uuup?”

Wilhelm did most of the talking, telling her all about the meetings with the Royal Court and what he told Simon. It felt nice to have someone else know about all of it, even though she didn’t know the full story, mainly about the drugs. Felice knew the struggles that they had both been through, she knew the struggles that they would still have to go through, and she listened without judgment. She made the same faces that they did when they talked about August, or when they mentioned Sara. 

Then they told her about the meeting later with the Royal Court with Simon’s mum, and Felice caught them up on how everyone was talking about the statement, and what was going to happen now, especially now that Simon might be a boarder. Simon mentioned that he would have to find a new sport to practice now, and Wilhelm took the opportunity to mention that he was quitting the rowing team, which he dreaded announcing to Vincent.

“Wait, what? You’re quitting?” Simon asked, eyes wide.

“Of course I’m quitting,” Wilhelm responded matter-of-factly.

“Thank God, I can stop pretending to give a shit about the team,” Felice gave a tired sigh. Simon looked worried. 

“But…wait, no… it’s not because of me, is it?”

“Well, not directly. But… I can’t be on the same team as August anymore, pretending that things are fine. And I’m not going to continue to subject myself to Vincent’s reign of terror. Especially not after the way he treated you,” Wilhelm said.

“Oh, okay…” 

“I only joined because because Erik had been on the team, and a lot of people wanted me to continue that tradition, including myself. And who knows, maybe I’ll decide to go back to rowing next year. But for now, I think I want try something of my own.”

This hadn’t been an overnight decision. He had been mulling it over after something Boris said, which helped him realized that just because he didn’t follow in Erik’s footsteps it didn’t mean that he was letting his brother down. He had always admired his brother, always wanted to be like him a little bit, but especially after Erik’s passing, Wilhelm hadn’t really thought much about what he wanted for himself if it diverged from what his brother had been or done in his short life. 

It was bittersweet. Rowing was one of the few things that still bound him to Erik, and made him proud. But it had been spoiled irreparably by August and Vincent. If he ever wanted to go back to it, he had to wait until they graduated, and see how he felt then. 

For now, he had a chance to find his own thing, do what he wanted and not what was expected of him. 

“Maybe you can go back to horseback riding,” Felice said. Wilhelm made a face.

“Nah, I liked it, but I don’t want my own horse. Too much maintenance and dedication. And you won’t even be there anymore, so who am I gonna hang out with? Stella and Fredrika? Besides, I can’t be around the stables…”

“Right,” Simon said, awkwardly biting his lip.

“Oh… right.” Felice caught that they were referring to Marcus. “Well… what about tennis? You used to play tennis, didn’t you?” She said. Wilhelm nodded. 

“That’s not bad. You want to try tennis with me?” He asked Simon.

“Maybe.”

“What about… fencing?” Felice suggested.

“Fencing?” It was Simon’s turn to make a face. But Wilhelm’s whole face lit up. 

“Yeah, let’s do it! Let’s try fencing!” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, come on, it’ll be fun. I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah, of course. Because of, you know… pirates.” Wilhelm was blushing now. Simon laughed. 

“I didn’t know you were such a massive dork.” He looked unsure. “Isn’t fencing, like, really hard?”

“I mean, it’s not like rowing was a piece of cake.” Wilhelm said. “But that’s the point, isn’t it? I mean, what’s the point of doing a sport if it’s not going to be a challenge, right?”

“Ugh, you sound like Rosh.”

“Come on, I think you might like it for several reasons: one, it’s an individual sport. Two, you’re kind of perfect for it, like you’re built for it, you’ll probably get it really quick and be really good at it. And three, cathartic.”

“Cathartic? You think I want to stab someone?” Simon chuckled.

“I do,” Wilhelm said with a shrug. 

“Oh you both definitely do,” Felice said. Simon thought about it for a moment.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Come on, let’s just give it a try. If you don’t like it, you can try something else,” Wilhelm said, grabbing his hand. Simon smiled. 

“Okay, fine.”

“Also, I think you’ll look amazing in the uniform,” Wilhelm whispered, making Simon blush.

“Yeah?”

“Guys, can you not flirt in front of me, please? It’s so cute it makes me sick,” Felice groaned. Simon blushed harder and hid his face in Wilhelm’s shoulder, snuggling like a cat into his side.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“Did you see that pathetic display this morning?”

“You mean Felice hugging Wilhelm and his little boyfriend like she’s their bestie?”

“She’s such a fake. I bet she’s boiling over. Are we supposed to believe that she doesn’t still want to fuck the prince?”

“Such a crown whore.”

Wilhelm slammed his locker closed, and the loud bang startled the two first year girls around the corner. Their eyes grew wide, clearly not having noticed that he was right there. Wilhelm was about to say something nasty to them, but he stopped himself.

You can be angry, you just can’t let it push you to that edge again…

Instead, he stared at the girls, until they walked away awkwardly. Wilhelm watched them go. 

He’d been overhearing whispered conversations all day, about him, about Simon, and now about Felice too. Even hearing gossip about Sara made him mad. They didn’t know they full story, and yet they talking about all of them, like it was celebrity gossip, like they weren’t within earshot.

And the staring. He was used to being watched. He grew up in the public eye, and it was never not uncomfortable. But his unease now stemmed from people staring not just at him, but at Simon too. If it bothered Simon at all, he did a really good job of hiding it. He was well aware that he didn’t fit in at Hillerska, because he was working class and Latino. But that meant he was used to fading into the background, not standing out; now he stuck out like a sore thumb. 

To make matters worse, at the end of each class, Sara came over and tried to talk to Simon. And every time, Simon ignored her and walked away. And people picked up on that; the inseparable siblings were not so inseparable anymore, and it either had something to do with Sara sleeping with Felice’s ex, who also happened to be Wilhelm’s cousin, or this rift was about something else, what could it be, who would have thought Sara capable of that, it’s always the ones that you least expect… People were eating it up like dessert.

And yet Simon seemed unbothered.

“You okay?” Wilhelm asked during lunch. Simon munched on his salad and nodded cheerfully.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He responded nonchalantly. After a moment he lowered his voice. “I’m trying to deal with one thing at a time. But it’s fine.” He gave him a reassuring smile

Wilhelm nodded, pushing his food around his plate. 

“Are you upset that people are talking about you?”

“No,” Wilhelm lied, sitting across from Boris, fidgeting. He didn’t know why he lied; of course it upset him. “I mean, yes, but not so much the fact that they’re talking, everyone talks about everyone. It’s what they’re saying.”

“You can’t control what other people say or think about you. But you decide if you let it affect you, and if you do something about it,” Boris stated. 

“I know, I know. It’s always happening. People can’t seem to mind their own business, but…” Wilhelm tugged at the sleeve of his sweater, “I know it’s because of the speech.”

Boris leaned slightly forward in his seat. “That must have been a very stressful moment for you. How did you feel after that?” 

“Terrible. I had a panic attack.”

“That was your reaction to the stress of the moment. But once it passed, how did you feel?” 

Wilhelm let out a deep breath. “Relieved. Satisfied. And terrified. I was taken to Stockholm and I didn’t know if I would be back.” 

Boris stared at him, scrutinizing him, then leaned back again. “But you have no regrets.” It wasn’t a question. 

“No. Absolutely not,” Wilhelm said without hesitation. Boris nodded. 

“So what’s the problem now?” 

“I wish… I didn’t have to say anything. I didn’t want to say anything before, when the video came out,” he said. “If it hadn’t been for that, I don’t think I would have ever come out, and… that was fine. But I don’t seem to have much choice on it and… it’s not fair.” He let out a trembling breath. “And there’s still a lot of pressure, not just on me, but on Simon now as well… and it scares me.”

“Why?” 

“Because I’m scared of what they might do to him.”

“They?”

”The Royal Court. My family, my… my mother. The Court… I’m scared that they’ll take over his life, over our lives. I’m scared that… he’ll get overwhelmed and decide that it’s not worth it.” That I’m not worth it.

Boris was nodding. “Yes, it’s a possibility. You can’t control that either, and that’s something that you’ll just have to accept. But once you do, you’ll feel like that fear doesn’t control you anymore. The important thing is to be honest about it, about your feelings.” 

Wilhelm resisted the urge to get up and start pacing. “But that’s the thing… how do I stay honest about what I’m feeling without making him feel like I’m trying to… manipulate him?” 

“You can tell him that precisely,” Boris began. “Of course if you tell him how you feel, that might sway his decisions, no doubt. We’re always going to try to do what’s best for our loved ones, even at our own expense. That’s what happens in relationships, it’s give and take. The key to a good relationship is finding that balance.” 

“It… it feels like in this case… he’s the one having to give more…” 

“But you said so yourself, it’s the Royal Court asking him to make these adjustments, not you. You’re not asking him to give up more because you want the balance tilted in your favor. These are the circumstances that you are beholden to as well. And you have made it clear that he’s free to choose to comply or not.”

“That’s another thing… I’ve told him that he does have a choice, that if he doesn’t want to move here or anything, that we’ll work something out, but the truth is… I don’t know if we can work anything out, because I don’t have the power to make those decisions… It’s what the Royal Court can work out. And I’m afraid that I’m promising more than I should… It’s just… I’m hoping that everything will work out… but I don’t really know. I’m just…” He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. “I’m so tired of having to think this way, of having to weigh the options, think strategically… I just want things to work out.”

Boris was quiet for a moment, fingers twiddling on his lap. 

“Then you should be honest to him about that too,” he finally said, leaning forward. “Again, you are allowed to feel what you feel, Wilhelm. And now you know that, in this relationship, you should take his feelings into consideration, too. So, as long as you are both honest and actively communicating and not trying to manipulate each other, then you can find that balance.” 

Wilhelm nodded lightly as he listened to Boris, he kept nodding even as Boris finished talking, and then he stayed quiet for a long time, eyes fixated on his hands again. Boris didn’t say anything, waiting for him. 

“I’m just…” he started, his throat tight. “I’m… so afraid, of them fucking this up… but also, I’m afraid of fucking this up myself…” 

The words lingered for a long time in the air. Boris nodded. 

“I understand. You’re afraid of making the same mistakes. That shows that you recognize your previous shortcomings and it shows  growth that you are trying not to repeat them. And that’s the first step. Be honest about that too. Anything that you tell him will help you both be on the same page always.” 

A drop of water stained the leg of Wilhelm’s jean, and it was then that Wilhelm realized that his eyes had filled with tears. Boris had already stood up to fetch the box of tissues and handed it to Wilhelm, then stood there, beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wilhelm, I understand that you’re afraid. This is a lot of first steps you’ve taken at once, and it must be overwhelming, and you would like some reassurance. We all need reassurance. Just be honest with him about it, I’m sure he feels very similarly.”

Wilhelm pulled out a tissue from the box and dried his eyes, as Boris walked back to his seat. “Doubt is a very debilitating thing. Communication is key to dispel doubt. Once you do, once you speak your mind, whatever his response might be, whether it confirms your fears or not, at least you won’t be wondering any longer.”

He sat down and offered a smile. “But I’m sure he will appreciate it.” 

Wilhelm nodded slowly, throat less tight. “Ok.”

After their last class, Wilhelm called Malin and Joakim to bring the car around, and waited for Simon by the exit. Simon had been summoned briefly to the headmistress’ office, but Lilja promised it wouldn’t take long. He showed up only a few minutes later, bearing a folder. 

“Paperwork,” he stated simply, placing them in his yellow backpack, while they waited for the car.

A ridiculous amount of students were mysteriously hanging around the main building when the car drove in. The sizable curious crowd watched and murmured as he and Simon got into the car. Simon ignored them, so Wilhelm did too. 

Slightly more difficult to ignore were the photographers outside the school, as soon as they came out of the gate. Wilhelm was used to those too, and he simply lifted his hand to shield his face from the lenses. But he snuck a glance at Simon, and this time Simon didn’t seem unbothered. In fact, he seemed tense, his eyes wider.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wilhelm asked, touching his arm. Simon didn’t reply right away. It wasn’t until the photographers were left behind, that he let out the breath that he had been holding in. 

“Oh God, okay… um… full disclosure, I… I did have a panic attack when I was on the bus having just been followed by the photographers. A small one, but… yeah,” he clarified. Wilhelm watched him, concerned. 

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because… I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I see. It seems that we still keep secrets to protect or not worry each other. We need to stop.”

“I know.”

“I will always worry about you, you can’t avoid that.”

“I knooow…”

“In fact, I would probably worry less if you told me when something’s bothering you. You have to trust me.”

“I do. I will,” Simon said, grabbing Wilhelm’s hand that was still on his arm. 

“Okay,” Wilhelm said. It was only a short drive to Simon’s house, and he was growing anxious, so much that he felt nauseated.

“I need to be honest too,” he started. “I’m… a little nervous about seeing your mum again.”

Simon turned to him. “You are?”

“No, I’m not… not a little nervous… I’m like, really fucking scared. Like terrified.”

“Why?”

“Because… I’m scared that she hates me, after what I did to you.” 

“She doesn’t hate you. She knows I love you, I told her that. She knows that what you did was because of things that you couldn’t control, not because you wanted to hurt me. She knows that you love me and you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.”

Wilhelm wasn’t completely reassured. 

“She’s probably more nervous than you right now,” Simon added. “The Royal Court is coming to her house.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry, Linda…”

“So I think she will really appreciate that you’ll be there,” Simon said, squeezing his hand again. Wilhelm smiled, but he still felt a little nauseated. 

“If you say so,” he whispered. 

There were photographers around the curb from Simon’s house too. They approached the car as they got near, cameras flashing, kept at bay by security staff.

“That’s one of the guys that drove me to school yesterday,” Simon pointed at a dark-skinned man. Wilhelm hoped that this security detail had been sent in advance, not that Minou was early. 

When the car stopped in the driveway, Simon went to get out of the car, but Malin instructed him to wait, as Joakim got out.

“Why, what’s going on?” Simon asked, watching as Joakim walked all the way around the car before stopping at the back door. Malin then got out and stood on the other side of the car. Finally, Joakim opened the door for Simon. Perplexed, Simon didn’t move.

“They’ll tell you about that,” Wilhelm said. “We’re supposed to wait for them to open the car door for us, because they get out first and walk around to check that it’s safe.”

“Oh,” Simon said. He hesitated still, before he slid out. Wilhelm followed.

They heard the photographers shouting from the perimeter kept by security. Joakim led them to the door, Malin blocking the photographers’ view. Bursts of flashes lit up the whole front of Simon’s house. 

“CROWN PRINCE! SIMON! OVER HERE!”

“WILHELM! SIMON!”

“WILHELM, DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT THE STATEMENT THIS MORNING?”

“WILHELM, DO YOU KNOW WHO POSTED THE VIDEO?”

“OVER HERE, WILHELM! SIMON!” 

“IS THE ROYAL COURT GOING TO REVEAL WHO LEAKED THE VIDEO?”

“WILHELM, ARE YOU AND SIMON GOING TO BE LIVING TOGETHER AT HILLERSKA?”

“SIMON, OVER HERE!”

“SIMON, DO YOU HAVE ANY COMMENTS ON THE STATEMENT?”

“WILHELM, CAN WE GET ONE OF YOU TWO TOGETHER?”

The front door opened. Another security official gestured for them all to get inside, bowing quickly to Wilhelm, then closed the door. The voices outside became unintelligible. Simon and Wilhelm glanced at each other, as if checking that they were okay, and smiled. The little entry way felt awfully crowded.

“That was not as traumatic as the first time,” Simon said with a nervous laugh, as they took their coats and shoes off. Linda appeared from the living room, a nervous smile on her face. 

“Hello, Wilhelm,” she greeted him, a strange formality in her voice. Her smile wasn’t as big as the first time they met, or when he first came to the house. Wilhelm swallowed nervously.

“Hi Linda, so nice to see you again,” he said. To his chagrin, Minou appeared behind Linda. 

“Good afternoon, Crown Prince, Simon, we’ve been waiting for you to get started.”

“Waiting? You said you’d get here at four. You’re so early,” 

“We thought it would be prudent to arrive earlier, to secure the area,” Minou explained with a tight smile, and gestured for them to follow. With a roll of his eyes, Wilhelm mouthed an apology to Simon, who simply shrugged and followed. 

They sat down in the living room. The coffee table was laid out with tea and coffee, a plate with biscuits and crispbread and a jar of jam. Wilhelm politely refused Linda’s offering of a beverage; he was too nervous to drink or eat anything right now. 

Minou and the legal counselor, a man in a grey suit that Wilhelm had never met, and who introduced himself as Jörgen Stalgard, talked the entire time, whilst an assistant, Elisa, took notes. It was a good thing that Wilhelm had already told Simon as much as he could, so that none of this would take him by surprise. Still, it was an overwhelming amount of information being delivered at a very fast pace and in a very formal tone and language. 

Simon listened, his face tense, whilst beside him, Linda wrote everything down on a notebook, and did her best to interject with questions or clarifications. It was up to Wilhelm to interrupt every once in a while, to clarify things, especially when Minou made things sound too ominous, or even to give Linda or Simon a chance to get a work in edgewise.  

Still, things seemed to be going well, but the conversation came to a screeching halt a few times: the first time was when Minou requested access to Simon’s social media and any other Internet accounts that could be potentially hacked.

“I’m not giving you passwords or access,” Simon said with a scoff. “That’s my private information, you can’t just ask for that.”

“It’s a matter of security,” the legal counselor, Jörgen, explained. “If you don’t have proper security measures, you can be an easy target of hackers looking to make money off of your privacy because of your relationship with the Crown Prince.”

“Well then get me an anti-virus or a VPN or tell me to get two-step verification, but don’t ask me for my passwords. What the hell?”

“Simon,” Linda said, putting a hand on his shoulder and saying something in Spanish that Wilhelm couldn’t quite understand. 

“Mum, I’m not doing it. They can find another way to protect my information, it’s not that hard.”

“We are simply trying to be as safe as possible, and this is actually the easiest way to avoid something like,” Minou cleared her throat awkwardly, “like the leaked video from happening again.”

Wilhelm leaned toward Minou and spoke to her in a low voice. “Minou, you know very well that’s not what happened. We didn’t film ourselves and then get hacked.” Color rose to his cheeks, both from embarrassment and from anger. “Somebody filmed us through the window and posted the video online. The issue here is not with Simon’s phone or email or anything, so please don’t give me that.”

“Forgive me, Crown Prince, but the fact still remains that there could be files, posts, images and videos that, regardless of how safe Simon thinks that his passwords or security might be, could still be vulnerable to hackers.”

“Then. Find. Some. Other. Way.” Wilhelm said pointedly, calmly. “Please.”

Minou relented, and gave a polite nod. “Very well, we will consult with our technology staff and see what other effective security measures can be implemented. In the meantime, perhaps Simon can set up two-step verification on all of his accounts, change all his passwords to be as secure as possible, set all his profiles to private and…”

The second time it halted drastically was about where the money would come from for Simon’s boarding fees, in the case that he didn’t obtain a grant. Minou explained the application process, and how the board analyzed and decided on individual cases, but given that this would be an extra-official mid-term application, it could not go as they planned, so they needed a backup plan. 

“The Queen has authorized for the money to come from the Royal House private funds, to cover the rest of the semester, and then the application can be resubmitted for the following term-”

“What? No no no no. No, you are not directly paying for me, no, I don’t- I can’t, no.”

“I’m sure a grant for next year is guaranteed, but given the lateness, there is a chance that the board will not accept an application at this time, despite the reasons we cite. So if we are denied a grant for the rest of the term, the funds would be covered by-”

“No! Absolutely not!”

“Simon?” Linda tried to appease him, but Simon shook his head vigorously.

“I’m not having the Crown pay for my room and lodging. That’s not negotiable.”

Wilhelm cleared his throat. “Can we talk for a second?”

Simon gave a resigned sigh and followed Wilhelm just outside the room, but interrupted him before he could speak.

“Wilhelm, I told you I don’t want special treatment. It’s one thing for the Royal Court to help me get a grant, but that’s public funds dedicated to that, and I guess that’s fine by me. But if I don’t get the grant, I’m not accepting the Crown’s charity.”

“It’s not charity, Simon. It’s my family’s private funds.”

“Are you crazy? I know how much it costs to live at Hillerska! I’m not letting you and your family pay for that!” Simon said in an angry loud whisper. Wilhelm looked around, defeated. 

“Okay, then what?”

“Either I get the grant for the rest of the semester, or I’m not moving.”

“Simon… it would only be a few months. It’s probably not even going to be that much, especially if they agree that you can board with me. My family already pays for my room, and it’s a double room, so-”

Simon shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t care. I’m not… I’m not accepting extra special treatment. Please understand.”

Wilhelm let out a tired breath, and nodded finally. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” Simon said. “I mean, this is all in the scenario that my mum even lets me board at Hillerska in the first place.”

“True,” Wilhelm agreed, feeling dismayed.

They went back in and continued. The third time, which really brought the whole discussion to a spectacular stop, was when Minou and Jörgen began to inquire on Simon’s family; relationships, contact information, home and work addresses, any important things that they needed to be aware of. 

“If you don’t already have that information, we’re not giving it to you,” Simon retorted. 

“It’s not about invading their privacy, but we need a record of who could be approached by the press and asked questions about you,” Jörgen clarified.

“So you can make sure that they stay quiet, that they don’t say anything bad about me, or try to make money out of selling the press something juicy about me?”

“Unfortunately, yes. This wouldn’t be the first time that we have to deal with situations like this.”

Wilhelm knew very well what Jörgen meant. Girls that Erik dated, girlfriends, friends, acquaintances, the Royal Court had them all checked out and got them to sign NDAs. And so far it had worked; nobody to this day has ever published any gory details about Erik, true or false, coming from a well-known source. But as far as Wilhelm knew, those NDAs had never been signed by a family member of a girlfriend. And he could understand why Simon wouldn’t want that to suddenly apply to his family. 

But then again, Erik had never had a viral sex video leaked, or had come out on national television, or had his boyfriend accosted by paparazzi as a result…

“You can find that information yourselves, we’re not giving you our address book,” Simon said resolutely. “Most of them are either in Venezuela or scattered across Latin America and the U.S. and Europe, so if you haven’t found them, I doubt the press has gotten to them either. Anyway, my family would never do something like that, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Minou took a deep breath and spoke in a low voice to both Jörgen and the assistant. Wilhelm smiled proudly at Simon. 

“Very well. We would at least like to establish contact with your father, if that’s okay with you. I understand that you do not have a close relationship with him, and I apologize if this is a sensitive subject, but this would be precisely the kind of thing that we would need to be on top of, given the proximity. You understand? We only want to make sure that he understands that, if he’s ever approached by the press, or anyone at all, that anything he says about you, no matter how good his intentions might be, could be used to your detriment. That is unfortunately how the press works.”

Simon and Linda visibly tensed at the same time. Wilhelm felt his stomach sink. In his mind’s eye he saw August dangling the pill bottle in front of his face in the palatset.

Micke Eriksson…

Linda was saying something, but Wilhelm couldn’t hear her. There was a low buzzing noise in his head, it suddenly felt like he had cotton over his ears, every voice suddenly muffled. His breath hitched in his chest. 

It would be very bad if we had to report Simon to the police…

“Crown Prince?”

“Hmm?” The buzzing became lower. 

Minou was staring at him. “I said that we’re done, for now. Mrs. Eriksson has agreed that Simon can temporarily board at Forest Ridge, so we have an appointment with headmistress Lilja and the board to appeal on Simon’s behalf. It should be fairly easy, I’m sure the board would also very much like that photographers stop milling about outside of the school grounds as soon as possible.”

She stood up, and Jörgen and the assistant followed. “In the meantime, Simon, Mrs. Eriksson, you should decide about the grant application. The sooner we start the process, the better. I’m certain that the board will gladly agree that Simon’s safety is paramount.” 

“He’s also the star soloist in the choir, and his grades are really good too,” Wilhelm added with a smile. Simon tried not to laugh.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to have Simon as a boarder. And of course, your sister Sara had already received a grant, so that’s another bonus.”

Linda looked slightly disconcerted as she accompanied them to the entrance and they thanked her for her hospitality. A flurry of security personnel gathered at the door. Camera flashes and voices erupted from outside as the front door opened and closed. 

Linda came back in and started gathering the plates and cups of tea onto the tray. Wilhelm stood up.

“Linda, please let me, I can take that to the kitchen, and you can stay here and talk,” he said, gently coaxing the tray out of her hands. She flushed as thanked him before sitting back down.

“Wait, where are you going?” Simon asked.

“I… thought maybe I can wait in your room while you talk…?”

“But you can stay.”

“No, this is a family discussion.”

“Wille-” 

“This is your decision. You discuss it in private. I’ll be in your room.”

Simon opened his mouth to say something else, but promptly closed it again and nodded. 

Wilhelm put the tray on the kitchen counter and hesitated before putting the cups and saucers in the sink. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it in one gulp. He turned to Malin and Joakim. 

“I’ll be in there if anyone needs me,” he announced, pointing toward the door of Simon’s room. Joakim nodded.

“Sara Eriksson is home,” Malin said. Wilhelm paused and glanced at Sara’s bedroom door. He saw a sliver of light underneath. 

“Oh… when did she get in?”

“A few minutes after we did. We made sure that she was escorted in.”

“Um… ok, thanks.”

He crossed the laundry area and looked inside Simon’s room, as if to make sure it was okay to come in. He was surprised to find a door to Simon’s room, he distinctly remembered there wasn’t one last time. He left it open. 

Everything looked pretty much the same. The shades were drawn, and it was rather dark except for the light from the fish tank. He sat at the foot of the bed, watching the fish. He sat there for a while, mesmerized, hypnotized, watching them swim back and forth. The tension from the meeting ebbed away slowly, and he felt exhausted. 

He glanced around the room, spotting pictures stuck to the closet door, pictures of Simon with Rosh and Ayub, a family picture with Linda and Sara, a picture of Simon and Sara, of Simon and Linda… The lava lamp, a pile of clothes on the floor, posters on the wall, everything was exactly as it had been the last time—the only time—he had been there. 

He spotted something sticking out from under Simon’s pillow on the bed, something orange. He leaned over to take a look, when he heard a noise from the door. Wilhelm looked up, expecting to see Simon. 

Sara stood by the washing machine with a pile of clothes in her arms. She glanced at him, eyes slightly wide, then awkwardly looked away, dumping the clothes into a plastic basket on top of the machine and walking away briskly, closing the door.  

Wilhelm flopped down onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. The bed smelled like Simon. He heard laughter from the living room, and frowned curiously. What were they laughing about? 

For a moment he thought he had fallen asleep. He had no idea how much time had passed, when he heard steps coming back. Hopefully it wasn’t Sara again.

Simon finally came in.

“Hey,” Wilhelm greeted him from the bed.

Simon’s eyes widened, like a deer caught in a car’s headlights, but only for a second. Wilhelm blushed and sat up immediately.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked before laying down on your bed-”

“Oh, uh, no, no, that’s not… um… it’s… nothing… never mind. Don’t worry, it’s fine,” Simon blurted out, shaking his head and smiling. Wilhelm looked nonplussed, and still felt very self-conscious, so he scooted off the bed. 

“I was just tired. I’ve been so tense all day.”

“Yeah… yeah, me too.” Simon’s eyes darted around the room. 

“Did you and Linda talk? I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance before. I should have known Minou would get here earlier.” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, we talked, it’s okay. We talked and… she is on board. She will fill out the application with me.”

Wilhelm sighed, both with relief and with exhaustion. “Is she sure?”

“I mean, I know she’s worried, mostly about what’s happened with the media. But she knows it’s probably for the best.”

“Okay.”

“So I have her permission.” He grinned. “And you have her permission to come over on weekends… just as long as your mum says it’s okay too.”

“Oh, okay.”

“She thought that was funny.”

“What’s funny?”

Simon chuckled to himself. “I guess… she just realized that your mum is… the queen…”

Wilhelm chuckled too, although humorless. Indeed, he wondered what his mother would say, about mobilizing the security staff every weekend and possibly having to set up extra security around the Eriksson home whenever he was there. His head hurt a little. 

“So I guess it’s just a matter of waiting for Minou to come back and let us know what the board decided… just formalities, I guess. So… I’m gonna pack in the meantime,” Simon gestured to his room. 

Wilhelm should have been happy, delirious. But he worried. If today was anything to go by, people were going to be weird for a while. And Simon might have trouble adjusting. And Linda might change her mind. And there was nothing Wilhelm could do about it.

“Oh, okay. Do you need help?”

Simon shook his head. “I only need enough for three days. And then we’ll be back here.”

“That’s true.”

“But at least I won’t have to borrow your clothes anymore.”

“You can borrow my clothes any time you want.”

Simon seemed to smile to himself about something then he shook his head as if he just caught himself.

“Okay, get out, I don’t want you looking at my stuff.”

Wilhelm chuckled. “What? We’re literally going to be… living together, I’ll be inevitably surrounded by your stuff.”

“You don’t know that. They might put me in another room.”

“Wow, you really don’t want to live with me.”

“Not unless they put me with Alexander or Henry or whoever. In that case it’s rooming with you or sleeping in the forest.”

“Well, if you choose the forest, I’ll be very offended.”

Simon laughed, but then he seemed distracted again. 

“By the way, who takes care of Olle, Oski and Felle while you’re away?” Wilhelm asked casually, glancing at the tank. “Simon?”

“Hm?” Simon looked a bit like a deer in headlights again. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Nothing, it’s silly, um… who’s gonna feed your fish?”

”Oh yeah… my mum is going to have to do that during the week. I hope she doesn’t forget…”

“Right.” Wilhelm felt another pang of guilt. More stuff for Linda to have to deal with in Simon’s absence. 

Simon picked up the plastic fish food container and peppered flakes above the tank gently. The fish swam up, pecking at the flakes floating on the surface. Simon turned to Wilhelm with an amused smile.

“Did you… you remembered their names?” 

“Oh… yeah, I do,” Wilhelm said, blushing. 

“You know I made them up on the spot, right?”

“I know. But you know you have four fish, right? You only said three names.”

“Because you were distracting me, I didn’t have a chance of coming up with a fourth name…” Simon blushed ever brighter than Wilhelm, standing closer to him. “And I thought you were distracted too, I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

“I guess I can’t help remember everything about you,” Wilhelm said, taking Simon’s hand. 

“Except for the lyrics to the song that I wrote about you.”

“Again, how can you expect me to pay attention when you had just kissed me like that?”

Simon let out a breathy laugh and pulled Wilhelm closer, kissing him lightly. Wilhelm felt warm and electrified. Simon pulled back and gave him a puckish smile. 

“Okay, I’ve decided… the fourth one’s name is Wille.”

“No!” Wilhelm feigned being horrified. 

“It’s official. Congratulations,” Simon shook their joined hands.

“It’s not the honor that you think it is,” Wilhelm laughed. 

“Oh, having a fish named after you is not on par with your other royal titles?”

“I’m getting a pet turtle, and naming it Simme.”

“Joke’s on you, I like turtles, I would be honored for you to name your turtle after me.”

“You’re such a dumbass.”

“Get out, human Wille, I must pack!”

Wilhelm could hear Linda loitering in the kitchen, talking to Malin and Joakim. Arming himself with courage, he walked out and sheepishly offered to set the table whilst Linda finished cooking. She graciously showed him where everything was, and Wilhelm felt a little better about interacting with her. 

Simon finally appeared, dropping a duffel bag onto the floor beside the door, just as Linda set the food at the table; she had prepared rice and beans, chicken and a salad. Wilhelm’s mouth watered; he was starting to feel better and he was hungry again. 

Sara didn’t join them, claiming she wasn’t hungry. Linda seemed frustrated, mumbling something in Spanish as she sat down.

“Mamá, she said she’s not hungry,” Simon said with a shrug, as he and Wilhelm sat at the table. 

“I just thought that, since you’re moving out, she’d at least come sit with us, even if she didn’t eat,” Linda said. Wilhelm bit his lip; he hadn’t asked Simon, but judging from this, he assumed that Linda was still unaware of the reasons why Sara had moved back.

Simon didn’t respond, instead reaching for the ketchup bottle and pouring a generous over his dish, before putting a forkful of now bright red rice and beans into his mouth. Both Linda and Wilhelm watched him in horror and started teasing him about this awful habit, shaking their heads in disappointment, while Simon started waxing poetry about how the ketchup provided a sweetness and a touch of acidity to contrast the saltiness of the meal.

Shortly after they finished dinner, Minou came back with news and forms for Linda to sign.

“The board will arrange for an individual room for Simon, but in the meantime, he and the Crown Prince can room together, if that’s okay with you,” she announced. “The Queen has already agreed.”

Linda said nothing as she signed the papers. In the kitchen, Simon and Wilhelm nonchalantly washed and dried the dishes, occasionally sneaking a glance at Linda and then at each other. As soon as they were done, Minou signaled to the security team that they were ready to leave, Joakim taking Simon’s bag.  

“We will escort you to Forest Ridge and make sure you are settled in. Mrs. Eriksson, you are welcome to contact me if you have any questions. Headmistress Lilja has also made herself readily available at any time.”

They stood aside as Simon and Linda hugged and said goodbye. They spoke quietly in Spanish, and Wilhelm could see tears glistening in Linda’s eyes, while Simon smiled sadly and hugged her again. It felt like a very solemn, private moment, and Wilhelm felt like an intruder, like they were all intruders upon it, especially Minou glancing at her watch impatiently. 

To Wilhelm’s surprise, Linda pulled him into a hug too, and told him to please take care of Simon. She hugged him like he had never been hugged before, not since Simon, not since Erik. He smiled at her and nodded and felt his throat tighten.

Minou warned them that there were now more photographers outside, and to be careful not to look up. Simon and Wilhelm reached out for each other’s hand at the same time, and Wilhelm gave him a reassuring squeeze. 

As soon as the door opened, the cacophony of voices interrupted the solemn silence inside the house, a storm of camera flashes lighting up their path. Indeed, more photographers had appeared, and security staff was forced to close the perimeter in order to keep them at bay, so the cameras were closer, more blinding, the voices nearer. 

“SIMON! WILHELM!”

“WILHELM, OVER HERE!”

“CAN WE HAVE A PHOTO OF YOU TWO?”

“WILHELM!”

Wilhelm kept his head down, keeping half a pace ahead of Simon, tugging him along, unconsciously shielding him. Malin walked ahead of them, shielding them both. Another member of security had already walked around the car and was holding the door open, and Wilhelm slid into the backseat first, followed by Simon. The door closed, and the shouts were muffled again. 

“You okay?” Wilhelm asked. Simon was breathing deeply in and out, relaxing slowly.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “Still not as bad as the first time.”

They pulled out of the driveway and followed behind Minou’s. Security cleared the path for them, paparazzi trying to keep up with the cars as they drove away. 

Simon stared wistfully out the window as they got further and further from his house, his face resolutely turned away. Wilhelm wondered if he was crying. He thought about saying something, but then Simon turned to him with a sly smile. 

“So you’ve never opened a car door on your own?” He joked. Wilhelm rolled his eyes.  

“Haha, very funny. I can open the door myself, but I still have to wait for them to do the walk-around.”

“Just checking. It’s good to know that you have basic skills.” 

“Idiot. I can do it, I’m just… generally… not allowed.”

Simon’s face fell, like he was suddenly embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“Don’t worry, I know it’s weird.” It was never easy for Wilhelm to explain to people why he wasn’t allowed to do certain things; much like the time he had just introduced himself to Simon and was complimenting him, and a moment later he was admitting that he was not supposed to talk about politics, which left him feeling awkward and embarrassed. 

“But what happens if I open the door before they do the walk-around?” Simon continued with a curious smile.

“In that case, Malin puts you in a chokehold,” Wilhelm joked. Simon’s eyes went comically wide.

“Really?” He laughed.

“He speaks from experience,” Malin teased, glancing at them on the rearview mirror.

“I suggest you get used to this particular rule real quick,” Wilhelm said, eliciting another laugh from Simon. 

“Thanks for being there today,” Simon said after a silence, reaching across the space between them and linking their pinky fingers. 

Wilhelm smiled. “Where else would I be?”

He wished Minou had gone back to Stockholm instead of ‘escorting’ them. Walking down the hall of Forest Ridge with what was basically an entourage attracted way too much attention. 

When they arrived back at Hillerska, headmistress Lilja and housemaster Göran welcomed them at the door and accompanied them back to the house, Lilja and Minou talking the entire way, Elisa the assistant effortlessly walking and taking notes at the same time. Dinner was past, so a lot of the boys were back in Forest Ridge, in the common rooms or their dorm rooms, staring as they passed. Henry comically flattened himself against his room door to get out of their way. August came out of the common room and politely greeted them all, especially Minou, but she only gave him a tight smile in response. Wilhelm smiked; sometimes Minou wasn’t too bad. 

Joakim walked into Wilhelm’s room first and set Simon’s bag on the spare bed. Wilhelm pretended to guide Simon in, Simon acting as if it were the first time he was setting foot in there, and not like he had completely forgotten his clothes from the previous day on the floor by the desk, or like his toothbrush didn’t already live next to Wilhelm’s in the little cup by the sink.  

They were all talking at the same time. Göran was telling Simon the basic house rules and schedules. “I trust the Crown Prince can explain more thoroughly and help you adjust,” he said. Minou instructed Simon to refrain from leaving the grounds of Hillerska unless previously coordinated, and informed him that she would be sending him security information and protocols that he needed to be aware of. The adults continued to chit-chat, whilst Wilhelm and Simon stood awkwardly to the side, until Lilja announced that it was a school night and they should leave to give Simon time to settle in. They all streamed out of the room, one by one, closing the door, and the room was silent. 

“Oh my God, I was starting to think that they would never leave. I genuinely thought that Minou was going to camp out on the floor or something,” Simon said with a tired groan. Wilhelm opened the door and looked out. The hallway was empty again; no Malin or Joakim, not even any of the boys hanging around to snoop. They were really alone.

“I can’t believe… they’re actually letting us room together…” he whispered, closing the door. 

Simon had already taken off his jacket and hung it on the desk chair (their desk chair) and toed off his shoes, and he moved his bag to the floor (their floor) and stretched out onto the blue quilt of his bed (Simon’s bed) and patted the space beside him. 

“Come here,” he said. “Join me in my bed.”

Wilhelm took off his shoes and coat and laid down beside Simon on his bed (Simon’s bed). 

“You know, I distinctly remember you saying yesterday that you never ever wanted to live here.”

“I know,” Simon grumbled. “I changed my mind. Because I guess it’s not so bad if you’re here.”

“I also distinctly remember you saying that you didn’t want want to live with me.”

“Ugh, just shut up,” Simon shoved him playfully. 

Wilhelm frowned. “Huh.”

“What?”

“I had never laid down on this bed before. Is it weird that it feels somewhat smaller?”

“Seriously? You had never laid on it? This whole time?”

“I used it for other stuff. Mainly as a packing station. And laundry basket.”

“If I had two beds, I would probably take turns sleeping on each.”

Wilhelm narrowed his eyes. “Nobody does that. That’s why I never got why they gave me a double room. What was the point?”

“Well, now we’re lucky that they did. And now you get to take turns sleeping in each bed,” Simon said, reaching over to take Wilhelm’s hand. “We can sleep in this one tonight.”

“That would be nice.” 

Simon snorted. “I can’t believe I have my own bed, in your room.”

Our room. Technically. Temporarily, at least.”

Simon turned onto his side and threw an arm over Wilhelm’s chest. Wilhelm reached an arm around behind Simon to pull him closer, and Simon tilted his head up for a kiss. 

They were kissing, in Simon’s bed, in their room.

Simon’s phone vibrated in his pocket. 

“Oh shit, I forgot to text my mum,” he exclaimed, reaching for his phone. A split second later he was frowning at the screen. “It’s Minou. She hasn’t even left the premises, and she’s already sending me all the things that she said she would send me later. I thought ‘later’ meant ‘tomorrow morning’, at least.”

Wilhelm felt a pang again. “Don’t forget to text your mum.”

“Oh right.”

Simon’s phone continued to buzz with vibrating incoming messages. “It seems Minou is booking me an appointment for a physical health evaluation. She’s asking me what dates work best for me.”

“Oh.”

“And apparently we’re getting a sex ed refresher with a doctor. She’s asking for the best dates for that too.”

“Oh boy…”

“In the meantime, they’re sending a care package with… ahem, condoms and lubricants and they want to know if we have a preferred brand, and what sizes, types, flavors…”

“Dear God,” Wilhelm grabbed the pillow and pressed it over his own face. 

“… or anything else that we would like to add,” Simon continued. 

“I’m so sorry,” Wilhelm mumbled through the pillow. 

“What is up with this? I… we don’t even… I mean, they probably don’t know that, but… is this in case like a precaution, in case we’ve thought of buying our own…?”

Wilhelm removed the pillow from his face and sighed. “Yes, basically they don’t want the press to get a single whiff of anything, so it’s not like you can just go to a shop and buy condoms, or even order anything online without them finding out. Everything of that sort has to be done through… the Royal Court.”

“The Royal Court… as in, your mum.”

Wilhelm pressed the pillow to his face again and growled into it.

“Your mum and Jan-Olof want to know what flavor lube we like,” Simon was cackling now. Wilhelm reemerged from the pillow. 

“I’m glad you find it funny.”

Simon calmed down and cleared his throat. “So have you… ever received one of these care packages before?” He asked meekly, propping himself up by his elbow to look at Wilhelm. 

Wilhelm shook his head. “Nope. Um… I never had a reason to request one.”

“Oh…” Simon said. Wilhelm reached up to caress Simon’s face. 

“You know you were my first, right?” He asked. Simon bit his lip, like he was trying to contain his smile. 

“Your first…?”

“My first… time… and my first… boyfriend… person… love.”

Simon couldn’t contain his smile any longer. “You were my first too… time and… first person/love…”

Wilhelm lifted himself up slightly to capture Simon’s lips for another kiss. Another buzz interrupted them again.

“Ugh, does she want an answer right away? What the fuck?” Simon growled, looking at his phone again.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Wilhelm groaned, falling back against the mattress. 

“Did your brother have to go through this too? Did he ever tell you about it?”

“Yes, but he never gave me the gory details.” Wilhelm smiled fondly. “He once told me he was tempted to go out on his own to buy condoms and see what happened. His guess was that tabloids would of course be on about the Crown Prince’s sex life, while more respectable newspapers might write about the Crown Prince indirectly promoting safe sex. My guess was that all of them would be asking who he was fucking now and nothing more.” He sighed. “That is unfortunately how the media works.” 

It was a sad truth that he had become all too familiar with. After all, not one single outlet in the country pointed out immediately that the leaked sex video was in fact child pornography, instead focusing primarily on the identities of the boys involved, whether it was indeed Crown Prince Wilhelm, whether he was gay, if he had a secret romance, and what it all meant for the monarchy.

And now that their relationship was confirmed, the media wanted to know every detail, get every single picture, and they would be on them like vultures, trying to catch every subtlety, every nuance, every slip-up, and writing whatever they wanted…

Until everyone decides to have an opinion about it… 

Simon sat up on the bed.

“What is it?” Wilhelm asked.

“Nothing, just emails from Minou. The grant application and guide, and some extra info, and the… history of the Royal House of Sweden… and the security protocols thing she mentioned.” Simon scratched his neck. He let out a nervous laugh. “Do I have to memorize all of this? Is she gonna quiz me?”

“Um… I don’t know,” Wilhelm replied. He felt horribly tense, because Simon was suddenly visibly tense.

“She also just told me to get started on changing all my passwords and setting up two-step verification and stuff. Guess I’ll do that right now, before she shows up here to confiscate my phone and laptop.” 

Simon reached over Wilhelm for his backpack, which was on the floor propped up against the desk. He unzipped it and pulled out his laptop. He painstakingly logged into all of his accounts; email, Instagram, Youtube, TikTok… As he did, he received a flurry of confirmation emails, text messages and codes on his phone, going back and forth between the apps.

“Maybe this was a bad idea, I’m too tired to remember all these new passwords right now…”

Wilhelm watched him; Simon scratched his neck again, like a nervous tick, eyes darting back and forth across the screen. 

He was exhausted too, from the whole day, from all the interactions, the barrage of information, from feeling that things were still out of his control. But he couldn’t imagine how Simon felt about all of it. 

He kept thinking about Linda, who had just been bombarded with all aspects of her son being in a very public relationship with a member of the royal family. He kept thinking about what she was going through right now. He kept thinking about Sara, about her and Simon not even talking to each other. He kept thinking about the photographers outside the school, outside of Simon’s house, swarming like a hive at the mere sight of either of them. He kept thinking about people at school, watching, whispering about them…

It had always been like that for him, but it would be now for Simon too, and Simon really had no idea what he was getting himself into. Strangers digging into their lives, wanting to know everything, judging them, feeling ownership of them… It would never stop.

He knew that was what his mother constantly warned him about, but he hadn’t wanted to think about it too much. But now he had no choice. Because it wasn’t just about him anymore, it was about Simon too.

If he hadn’t changed the speech, if he had listened to Simon, if he hadn’t wanted to get back at August…

Yesterday was a mistake, okay?

“You okay?”

Simon had glanced over to him, and Wilhelm realized that he was breathing harder, faster. 

He sat up suddenly, feeling dizzy. He planted his feet on the floor and took a deep trembling breath and tried to steady himself.

“Wille, are you okay?”

That was a question they asked each other a lot lately, two words full of concern, because things were constantly not okay.

“Hey, hey, give me your hand,” Simon said in a soothing voice. He knelt beside Wilhelm and grabbed his hand and pulled it to his chest, then placed his other hand against Wilhelm’s chest, like he did after the speech, when Wilhelm had a panic attack in the coat room. “In and out, slowly… In… and out…” 

It had been mild this time, it didn’t last long, but Wilhelm hadn’t even felt it coming.

“Better now?” Simon asked.

Wilhelm nodded. 

“What happened? You were… fine a second ago…”

“I’m sorry.”

Those were two other words that he used too much lately. He was always sorry about something, always apologizing, for things out of his control, for things he had been responsible for… and he wished that Simon didn’t have to put up with any of it, with him…

Simon rubbed his back gently. “What are you sorry for now?” He asked, almost as if he could read his mind. 

Wilhelm let out a mirthless chuckle. “About all of this. About everything. I’m sorry.” 

“Wille, you need to stop with this. You don’t have to be sorry all the time, okay?”

“I think I do… if it weren’t for me, none of this would be happening, and you wouldn’t have all this shit piled on you.”

“Stop! What shit?”

Wilhelm didn’t respond right away. He felt a horrible emptiness in his gut. 

“You can still get out.” 

Simon frowned. “Wille… what the fuck are you talking about? Why would you say that?” 

“You can… You can still back out, be free. Of this.” 

“No, I can’t. Don’t say that.”

“Yes, you can. You don’t have to put up with any of this if you don’t want to.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Simon looked at Wille’s hand, which he still held. Wille had unconsciously begun picking at his cuticles; he stopped promptly. “Do you hear yourself? Why are you saying this? I don’t want to back out. I don’t want to be free from you.”

Free from you. Wilhelm would never be free from Simon, not from the moment they met. And especially after they broke up. If anything he felt even more trapped by him, by his very obvious absence, and it had been pain beyond anything he had ever felt. He longed for Simon, so he was in his dreams, in his waking thoughts, in his memories, and in his hopes, and it hurt like hell. He wasn’t exaggerating when he told Felice that he felt like he would die.

He wasn’t trapped anymore, he didn’t feel like dying anymore, he felt more alive than ever. 

But he found it difficult to believe that Simon would feel the same way about him…

Simon rested his head on Wilhelm’s shoulder, hugging him from behind. “I’m not having second thoughts, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Wilhelm smiled to himself. He felt a lump forming in his throat and he couldn’t speak. 

“Are… are you having second thoughts?” Simon asked. 

“No! Definitely not. Not about you. Never.”

“Are you… having second thoughts about something else?”

Wilhelm rubbed his face, his hands still trembling a little, and shook his head lightly.

“I just… I feel like I haven’t really had a chance to think. About anything.”

Simon let out a small chuckle. “You sound like my mum.”

Wilhelm stared down at their hands, his trembling hand. He felt sick, like he might throw up. Simon tugged it to his chest again.

“Wille, please tell me what’s going on.”

His voice was patient and soothing. And it only highlighted how pathetic Wilhelm felt at that moment. He couldn’t even meet Simon’s eyes. But he let out a long, deep, trembling breath and cleared his throat. 

“Last night you asked me if I wanted to talk about Monday night… when I said all those things… and I hadn’t wanted to think about that much… Boris says that I should talk to you about everything, be as honest as possible about my feelings, so that we can always be on the same page. But… I had just dumped a crazy amount of information on you, and I knew there would be more during the meeting, and even more after… and so how could I dump my feelings on you on top of all of that?”

He turned a bit toward Simon, but he still couldn’t look at him. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling. It’s just a jumble of things. I hoped that Boris could help me un-jumble them, but he said that I should talk to you, that communication is key… but it basically means presenting the same jumble of feelings to you, and I can’t see how that is going to make anything better, or clearer.”

He ran his free hand through his hair. “I’m sorry that I’m so shit at talking about my feelings. It’s not because I never do, it’s not just because of my upbringing. It’s that… I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me. I’m scared that you won’t like… me.” He licked his lips. “Also, I don’t want my feelings to influence your decisions, or manipulate you into wanting to be with me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything. He unfurled his legs from underneath him, sitting beside Wilhelm, hand still clasped against his chest. Wilhelm took it as encouragement to go on, but he still couldn’t look at him.

“When the video became viral… I wasn’t ready to come out. I don’t think I was ready this time either, I just did it, because I had a reason to do it. But it was never something that I needed or wanted to do. I don’t even know what I am, whether I like boys or girls or what, and I’m not interested in figuring that out. All I know is that I love you… But as you can see, I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that if I came out, everything would be chaos. And I… I got scared.”

Simon nodded thoughtfully. 

“So I let them… her… convince me to deny that it was me. She says that she didn’t want me to have to deal with that in that moment, that I should be able to choose to come out on my terms, how and when I wanted… But I knew it wasn’t fair to you, to deny it, and to not tell you that I was going to deny it. It wasn’t fair for you to be out, and for me to not be. And it’s not fair to ask you to keep such a secret.” A tear escaped his eye and he brushed it away, almost annoyed. “But a part of me really hoped that you would understand, or at least not hate me for it. Because I thought you could relate, to how scary it is. Because however scary it might have been for you when you came out, it’s… unfairly monumental for me. The whole fucking world was watching, they’re still watching, and it’s terrifying and… I can’t make it stop.”

His face felt hot, and more tears spilled out. He hated himself for crying, not because he didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of Simon, but this time it felt so manipulative, so pathetic. “I’m sorry for how things happened. I’m always going to be sorry for what I did to you. I’m not sorry for coming out now, but I really wish I didn’t have to. I wish I could just do whatever I wanted, be with you, and not have the whole country lose their shit.” He wiped his face with his sleeve and took a deep breath. “And I can’t help but keep thinking if that was the right thing to do. Because I’m still scared, it’s still monumental. And the only person that I trust to talk about these things is also the person that I already hurt once. And I’m scared of hurting you again.”

“And so I’m always second-guessing myself now. Every time more stuff gets dumped on you, all these rules and conditions and changes, I feel like you might want to back out of this, and I… keep thinking back to when we argued in the locker room, and you said that you can’t accept me or my position or… And I wouldn’t blame you if you felt that way, if you had second thoughts now, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t want to be a part of this anymore, because it’s too much. Because too much has happened. You keep saying that you’re fine, that everything’s fine, that you can handle it, but I wonder if you’re simply putting on a brave face and trudging on, and that maybe you’re not being honest if it becomes too much, until it does, and… I worry. I worry that all of this might have been for nothing. I’m too afraid to lose you again. I’m afraid to do something to lose you…”

There was a long stretch of silence after he finished talking and it made him feel sick again. He still didn’t dare look at Simon. But finally, the other boy rubbed his face on the shoulder of Wilhelm’s sweater, and Wilhelm felt the wetness of the tears that he had wiped onto it. Simon sniffled and hugged him tighter.

“Okay, well… Thank you for telling me all of this, ‘dumping your feelings on me’, as you said, which made it sound very ominous… and also thank you for apologizing yet again, even though I said that you don’t have to be sorry all the time. Because the thing is… I’m sorry too.” 

He took a deep breath and shuffled closer to Wilhelm’s side. “You’re right, it was… it is really scary, and I should have understood. I understand now, what a difficult decision that was. It’s just… a heads-up would have been nice back then, that’s all. But when things blew up, it was too big and I felt alone. That’s what hurt. I didn’t really think about how we never talked about it, about the fact that nobody knew about you. Why we had to be a secret. And I really didn’t mind us being a secret back then. And I… I didn’t understand at the time what it really meant for you to have to come out. Because you’re right, it’s unfairly big, it’s the whole fucking world… But that didn’t make it not hurt. I felt like I was fighting something so big, and you were supposed to be by my side, and then you weren’t.”

“But it wasn’t your fault that you were outed. It was… it was August. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that at the time, so I didn’t have anyone else to direct my anger at that moment. Except you.”

Wilhelm closed his eyes. “I was angry at myself too. I still am.”

“But I don’t know if I was ever really angry at you,” Simon said, lifting a hand to Wilhelm’s face and softly stroking his jaw. “I wanted to be, but I was mainly angry at the world. And then I tried to get over  you.” He let out a low chuckle. “Then I was angry at myself too, for not being able to. I still loved you, and I hated myself for not being able to stop.”

His hand stilled at his neck. “And I’m really sorry for what I said that day in the locker room. I didn’t really mean that. I was too proud and I was trying to hurt you, because… I was hurting. But I shouldn’t have said that. I regretted it right away, when I realized that I really hurt you. It took me a while to understand that this, your position, is not your fault, it’s not something you can control.”

Wilhelm reached up his free hand to touch Simon’s, to keep it there, on his neck, and he finally mustered the courage to meet his gaze. “I’m still sorry for the things that I did that were my fault, like not telling you what I was going to say during the interview, and not telling you that it had been August.”

Simon gave a little shrug. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t want to be mad about those things anymore. Maybe that how things were supposed to play out. And it made me realize that I care more about you, about us, than about getting back at him.”

“Me too.”

“I’m really glad you got this out of your system. If you kept it in any longer, you would have exploded all over our room,” Simon joked, managing to elicit a smile from Wilhelm. “Do you feel better? Can we move on now? Can we focus on what happens next? Have we managed to un-jumble your feelings?”

Wilhelm pecked him on the lips before he became gloomy again. “A big part of them, yes. Sorry it’s so messy. But it’s not only about what happened before, it’s what’s going on right now. This is a lot of sacrifice from your part, it’s very one sided. And there’s more to come and I worry that you won’t be prepared for it. We haven’t even been together long enough for me to ask so much from you. This is such a monumental change, and I would hate it if you got overwhelmed and regretted it.”

Simon nodded slowly. “It is a big change, yes, but… if this is what it takes right now for this to work, then I’ll make it work. I know I’m being brave about it, I’m not pretending that it isn’t scary or overwhelming or even slightly crazy… but this time I’m not fighting this big thing on my own, this time I do have you by my side. Right?” 

Wilhelm smiled and kissed him longer and nodded confidently. 

“And I’m not doing anything that I’m uncomfortable with, am I?” Simon added. “I haven’t let them take over my life. I held my own against Minou, like you said.”

Wilhelm chuckled, but became serious again. “I just want you to be sure…”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “You know, Wille, it almost sounds like you’re trying to convince me to back out.”

“No! I’m not! Of course not. I just want to make sure that you are fully aware and conscious and-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” Simon shook his head. “What will it take for you to believe that I’m being sincere?”

“I’m just being honest about how I feel. And… I hope you can be honest about what you feel too. No matter what.”

Simon sat in silence for what felt like a long time, his face tense, like he was having a long and heated internal debate. He finally closed his eyes and huffed.  

“Okay, in that case…”

Simon stood up and grabbed his duffel bag, and Wilhelm felt a cold sweat in the back of his head. But Simon merely placed the bag on the bed and unzipped it and rummaged through it for a bit. He pulled out an item of clothing and dropped it on Wilhelm’s lap. Wilhelm held it up and it unfurled to reveal a familiar-looking orange cashmere sweater. He glanced at Simon, confused.

“What… is this sweater mine?”

Simon sat back down, blushing all the way up to his ears. “I was going to put it back somewhere around here, to pretend that it’s been here this whole time, but…”

“You had this?” Wilhelm asked, confused, wanting to know when, how, why, searching for Simon’s eyes, but it was Simon now avoiding Wilhelm’s gaze, cheeks bright, his body hunched over, like he hoped the mattress would swallow him up.   

“You… left it on your chair when… when they tried to pull you out of Hillerska. I grabbed it. In case you didn’t come back.”

In his mind, Wilhelm went over the awful memory of that day. He couldn’t remember wearing or taking off and leaving behind the sweater, but he vividly remembered his confusion, his anger, his desperation; Jan-Olof’s pursed lips, Malin’s strong arms trying to drag him away, the snow globe smashing on the floor, his mother’s too calm voice on the phone, the shock of finding a crowd of students standing at the end of the hallway waiting, watching, whispering amongst themselves, like drama spectators… except for the only person that he actually wanted to see… And then finding out what Simon had tried to do on his behalf…

“But I stayed.” 

“I know,” Simon said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I was… I didn’t know how I felt about you, how I still felt… because we were broken up, and I wanted to get over you, I wanted to move on, and yet… and yet I kept the sweater, because… it was all I had left of you… I was afraid of losing you completely… so I held on to it.”

Agape, Wilhelm looking fondly down at the sweater, and suddenly remembered something.

“Wait, this was in your bed.”

Simon’s eyes flew open and became very wide. “Wha- how did you know? Did you see it? Did you snoop around my bed?”

Wilhelm held up his hands defensively and shook his head. “I didn’t see it, I just saw something orange poking out from under your pillow, but I didn’t see what it was. This was it, right? You… you kept it under your pillow?”

Covering his now bright red face with his hands, Simon twisted his body and thumped down on the bed and buried his head in the pillow and growled into it. “Grr, you weren’t supposed to see that… That’s why I kind of panicked earlier, when you were in my bed… I was afraid you’d see it.”

“You kept it under your pillow…” Wilhelm repeated, astonished. Simon continued to growl into the pillow a bit longer then finally sat back up and rubbed his still red face with his hands. 

“I did…”

“This whole time… You had my sweater, and you wrote a song about me… and I was so sure that you didn’t love me anymore…”

“Yeah, and I had to hear you say that to realize that I was still stupidly in love with you, and that I needed to stop fighting it.”

Leaving the sweater aside, Wilhelm wrapped Simon up in his arms and hugged him tight. 

“I was so stupidly happy that you stopped fighting it.” Simon laughed into his shoulder. 

“Anyway, you can have your sweater back. I don’t need it anymore. I have the real thing once again.”

Nodding, Wilhelm turned his face to kiss Simon on the lips, on the cheeks, forehead and jaw, and Simon giggled.

“Oh yeah this is way better than a dumb sweater,” he said with a relieved sigh. 

“Wait, actually… I’d rather you keep it,” Wilhelm said, reaching for the sweater again and handing it to Simon. “I like the idea that you have it. Not in case something terrible happens again, but… because I want you to have something of mine. Just like I would like to have something of yours.”

Simon bit his lip thoughtfully. “Okay, fine, but you have to wear it every once in a while, so that it smells like you again, otherwise what’s the point.”

Wilhelm’s eyes and smile became wider. “Wait, you smelled it?” 

“Oh fuck! I shouldn’t have said that!” Simon exclaimed, hands flying to his mortified face once again.

“You smelled it…”

“Okay fine, yeah, I smelled it. What the fuck else did you think I did with it?”

“I don’t know… but… I guess it seems unreal to me that you would have been storing my sweater and smelling it, because you missed me as much as I missed you… And meanwhile I was so fucking sad and hopeless, and… I didn’t have a thing of yours to smell, to remind me of you…” He pulled Simon closer again, and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Simon echoed, tilting his face up for a kiss. “Okay, so now you believe me?”

”I do.”

”Good. So what’s the something of mine that you want?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “Hmm, I don’t know yet… maybe when we go back to your house, I’ll take something without you noticing.”

“Oh, you mean steal.”

“Yeah, you stole my sweater, I’ll steal something of yours.”

“Fine.”

“Something really smelly.”

“Ewww! Don’t be gross.”

Wilhelm laughed, and Simon threaded his hands through his hair and kissed him long and deep. Wilhelm was breathless by the time their lips parted. With a resigned sigh, Simon extricated himself from Wilhelm’s side and scooted back on the bed, his back against the wall, and retrieved his laptop from the end of the bed. 

“I’m glad we un-jumbled our collective feelings, and we’re now on the same page, and you can tell Boris that you did your homework and it’s going great. But for now I should really get back to this. It’s a real shock how many apps and usernames I have accumulated, and on the bright side, this has been a great exercise in deleting unused apps,” he joked, but he looked pointedly at Wilhelm. “I won’t lie, this is a lot, and I know that there’s more to come, but I’ll take it one bit at a time. I can handle it. And if it does get overwhelming, I promise to tell you. But I’ll be fine. After everything that we’ve been through, it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

Wilhelm swallowed a lump in his throat, and scooted beside Simon, to tuck himself into his side. That was a nice thing to hear, and perhaps what he had most needed to hear. 

Simon curled an arm around his shoulders, his hand stroking his hair. Maybe Wilhelm was making a big deal out of it, maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. 

Or maybe it was the knowledge that things were constantly and unfairly tilted in his favor, and he would give anything for him and Simon to be equals, in any shape or form. As long as they could be together.  

“For the record, if you said you didn’t want to do any of this anymore, then my offer still stands,” he started. “You just say the word, and I’d give it all up in a second. I wouldn’t mind being free from all of this too. It’d be worth it.”

It was a very complicated pro and con list. It was escaping but also giving up. It was not having to be Crown Prince but also giving August the thing he had secretly always wanted. It was not burdening Simon with a lot of unexpected responsibility but also letting a lot of people down. 

Except Erik, hopefully. 

Simon kissed the top of his head and looked at Wilhelm with a smile in his eyes.

“Let’s try this first and see how it goes,” he said. “Okay?”

Wilhelm nodded, feeling revived. “Okay.”

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed this one. Please leave a comment of any kind, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
I get the feeling that some people won’t love the next chapter…

Chapter 7: Blame the weather

Summary:

Time for the much anticipated post-jubilee party at the palatset. But not everyone is in the mood to party.
August POV.

Notes:

It seems that a few people who saw my note at the end of last chapter got worried that something terrible was going to happen. Indeed it was, the terrible thing happening is… August gets his own POV chapter.
Bear in mind, this chapter came out of nowhere, so I made it as short as possible. It’s just a little glimpse inside August’s self-absorbed and self-deprecating mind. Which was a frightening place to inhabit whilst writing this.
Title is from the lyrics of Skott’s ‘Evergreen’ (which I’m still not over the shock of finding out that it’s a Sargust song… never living that down…). Tell me if you agree that, in the context of Sargust, and particularly August, those lyrics mean not taking responsibility for your decisions but rather blaming the circumstances.
August is such an interesting character and an excellent antagonist.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

August wished he had stayed in his dorm room.

It was Friday night, and the much anticipated post-jubilee party was in full swing, and he just wanted to leave. If it had been up to him, he would have cancelled the whole thing, or at least postponed it indefinitely, until everyone forgot about this one and moved on to the next event on the calendar.

But the palatset was already fully decorated in Sweden’s colors, and the booze and food bought and paid for, and people were incessantly inquiring about it, citing that the Crown Prince was back and that was good enough for them. The consensus was that it would be a ‘terrible loss’ to not celebrate Hillerska’s jubilee ‘properly’, and that any day was a good excuse to finally throw the party.

August didn’t really care anymore. None of these things mattered to him at this point. 

For one thing, he was sure that this party, and the jubilee, would have been very different if Wilhelm hadn’t stepped up at the last minute and delivered his speech and basically humiliated him in front of the school and guests. Then he had gone even further than that and decided to come out publicly, triggering a nationwide crisis about the state of the monarchy and an upheaval from certain groups. August, for all his efforts, had never been more removed from the public’s attention. At least for now.

For another, although it remained unconfirmed, he was certain that any chance of him being Wilhelm’s backup was gone now, either because Wilhelm would make damn sure of it or because, given the new situation and the renewed media scrutiny, the Royal Court could not continue to hide his past misstep without damaging themselves. That ‘ongoing official investigation’ was bound to yield results eventually, and that was the kind of attention that he definitely did not want.

And finally, he just wasn’t in the mood. 

To be fair, he never was. Parties were merely a necessary social activity, something he felt obliged to participate in, but he especially didn’t mind if he got to be the host. And as host he would drink very little or not at all. Not only was alcohol disruptive to his dietary and workout regime, but he also disliked being hungover when he preferred to be fresh and ready to perform. That’s why he often pre-gamed on his own, a habit he retained even after he was old enough to drink; it allowed him to watch his alcohol consumption and not be pressured or judged by others. And during parties he simply pretended to drink as much as anyone else, by refilling with water or soft drinks when no one was watching, or resorting to a personal flask that was ‘too special to share’, but which was merely full of mineral water. No one needed to know that he was almost completely sober. 

He preferred to be sober and in control; he never liked feeling loose, or hooking up with random girls, or doing embarrassing things in front of everyone. It baffled him how much others enjoyed losing all their inhibitions, like it was part of the fun. He truly hated feeling that wild and reckless. 

The last time he drank more than usual, and even consumed other substances, it had been the night when Wilhelm was invited to join the Society, and later… 

In this particular occasion, his lack of party-spirit was dictated by the recent events. Which, after almost a week, seemed that nobody could yet put behind.  

“Nah, but I doubt he’s even strictly gay. That whole thing with Felice points to bi,” Lucas was saying behind him. August rolled his eyes and walked off.

All that he had been hearing the entire week, every single conversation that he was part of or overheard, eventually turned to the topic of Wilhelm. Or Wilhelm and Simon. Or the jubilee speech. Or the fact that Simon was no longer a non-res and very much a res. Or the controversy of Simon rooming with Wilhelm, despite the fact that they were obviously a couple. 

They were still the number one topic. Everyone at the party who wasn’t talking to them, was talking about them. 

And sure enough, everyone was really trying to talk to them. As soon as they arrived at the palatset, people flocked to Wilhelm and Simon, wanting to get close. They were getting more attention than August would have expected, considering the circumstances. Objectively, most girls were probably not excited about the Crown Prince no longer being an eligible bachelor, whilst the boys seemed miffed by how the couple seemed to be receiving special treatment even from the school staff, and yet everyone still seemed to gravitate toward them. 

It was merely the novelty, that’s what all the fuss was about, August thought to himself. Old rumors confirmed, new rumors beginning, and the rumor mill kept spinning. Gossip was the hottest currency.

Or maybe people were interested in them for the clout. Not only was Crown Prince Wilhelm all over social media in Sweden, but all over the world. August had seen influencers from everywhere explaining the situation in Sweden with the Crown Prince and the video and Simon to their followers, in multiple languages, shared over and over; it was a trending topic on Twitter and in the news; there were hashtags about Wilhelm and Simon. 

It was funny: prior to the speech, nobody in that school cared one bit about Simon Eriksson, and suddenly everyone wanted to be his friend or something. Absolute hypocrites. 

Wilhelm and Simon, however, were being coy, keeping to themselves, even though they were being approached constantly (the drunker people got, the friendlier and pushier they became). They pretended not to enjoy the attention, acting cordial and modest, probably to make themselves seem more interesting. They hung out exclusively with Felice and Madison in a corner, and stayed close to one another (they practically appeared to be glued at the hip). 

Despite how close they were, how secluded their little corner was, August did not catch a single display of affection between them. Other than chatting very privately, or smiling at each other, or tapping the other on the arm to catch his attention, there were no touches, no looks, nothing.

In fact, he hadn’t seen them be remotely effusive with one another at all, at school or between classes or at Forest Ridge, not even when they thought no one was looking. But August hadn’t really been watching them. In fact, he had been doing his best to steer clear of them, at every moment.

Since they were camped out in one corner of the palatset, keeping as far away as possible was not hard for August at all.

Keeping away from gossip about them, however, was a different challenge. 

“I don’t think it’s fair, though,” Henry was saying as August approached the little group of Forest Ridge boys. 

”What’s not fair?” Nils asked. 

”The two of them rooming together, when they’re clearly boyfriends. How is that allowed? I mean, none of us would be allowed to room with our girlfriends here.” 

“Well, first you’d have to get a girlfriend for your complaint to even matter, wouldn’t you?” Pär teased. 

“And anyway, there are no rules against boyfriends living together,” Nils pointed out. “The house rules were made ages ago, and they probably didn’t take that into account. So if you have a problem with it, you’re gonna have to take it up with the Hillerska founders,” he finished with a shrug.

“I think Henry here makes a valid point, though. They get to fuck at any time they want, while the rest of us are either sneaking out or sneaking a girl in,” Vincent continued. “Of course, I doubt that’s the issue for little Henry here, it’s not so much the logistics as it is the fact that he can’t get a girl to fuck him even if his life depends on it.”

“Fuck off, Vincent,” Henry protested. Vincent put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed him.

“I’m just messing with you, pal. But hey, show some fucking respect for your prefect, you little asshole.”

August drifted to the bar. He picked up some ice and opened his little flask and poured himself another ‘drink’. Two second year girls were pouring themselves drinks and theorizing that the whole speech was a media ploy from the Royal Court to get on the good side of the LGBTQ+ community.

“I’m not saying that he’s not gay or whatever, I’m saying that they might have seen it as the perfect opportunity to make themselves look good,” one girl said. “Especially after the video.”

“It didn’t look like it, though, it looked like they were upset, and they took him away to Stockholm like, well, like he might not come back,” the other girl responded, frowning at her drink. “Also, that’s kind of messed up. He’s only sixteen.”

“Well, that’s just what being the Crown Prince is, I guess.”

“Sucks.”

Sipping his drink, August drifted over to the nearest empty seat, a large couch. Nils was suddenly beside him, and they sat down onto the couch. Nils looked equally bored. Thankfully the group right next to them was talking about something else, a disjointed discussion about their plans for Easter break. August didn’t feel like participating, though. 

“What are you all doing for break, then?”

“I might go to Paris.” 

“I’ll probably end up in Berlin again. Boring.” 

“Hey, you can come with me to Ibiza! I’m staying in a villa, there’s plenty of space.” 

“I’m probably going to Seychelles.”  

“Did you hear? Rebecca‘s going to meet her Swiss boyfriend’s parents over Easter.”

“That’s interesting.”

“What are you doing for Easter?” August casually asked Nils. Nils was contemplating the melting ice in his glass, seemingly abstracted from the conversation around him until August spoke to him directly. He shrugged.

“Well, I was going to go to Verbier, but I’m not so sure anymore. You?”

August pretended not to hear him and said nothing more. But the conversation had unfortunately and unexpectedly somehow turned to them again. 

“And where do you think they are spending Easter break?” One of the girls asked with over-the-top amusement. 

“Hmm, excellent question. Doubt that the Queen is ready to have him in one of the Royal holiday residences.” 

“And would he even want to set foot in one of them? Remember he’s a socialist.”

“Besides, I think to him Forest Ridge is already enough of a palace.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“He’s such a hypocrite. Remember that class when he was like ‘we all know the Crown is the biggest welfare receiver’, and now, boom. Look at him. He’s here, shacking up with the prince, on our taxes…” a first-year boy from Sprucewood pointed out.

“Do you think that Simon Eriksson ever thought he’d be living in Hillerska under the Royal Court’s protection? I mean, this means that the Queen herself said ‘yeah, sure, let the prince and his boyfriend bunk together, fuck all they want’, can you imagine?”

“You sound like a prude.”

“You know what I mean. But still, like, that’s all over the press now, and it’s obvious that they’re not just roommates.” 

“Whatever, I mean, it’s not like there’s a risk of anyone getting pregnant, so sure, who cares.” 

“It’s not that, it’s the fact that Simon now lives here, that he’s basically Queen-approved or whatever. But like, do you think he ever imagined this could happen to him?”

“Doubtful.”

August wanted to get up and leave, but he didn’t want to draw too much attention, as he knew it would. 

On the one hand he didn’t care that they were talking about his cousin, or his cousin’s boyfriend, slandering them; on the other hand, he was unexpectedly bothered by how they talked without knowing the full story.

Of course they didn’t know the whole story, or even August’s involvement in it. But they didn’t actually care to know. It wasn’t about finding out how Wilhelm and Simon had even gotten together in the first place, why nobody had known, and what it meant now for the monarchy; those details were meaningless. All they cared about was knowing enough to be able to talk about them behind their back. Disentangling the magnitude of the scandal wasn’t as fun as speculating and talking shit about them. 

They had been doing the exact same thing to Sara. A lot. 

And it irked him.

Nobody even bothered to be discreet, they just talked shit about Sara and him behind their back, whether they were in the vicinity or not. And he had heard all kinds of things about them: that Sara had wanted to get revenge on Felice for something, or had been jealous of Felice, so she hooked up with her ex; that Sara had wanted to climb socially and she had somehow landed August; that August had been so desperate to get with someone that he had gone for the non-res, to the point where he had tried to help her become a boarder so that she could be perceived as something more; that he had actually helped her become a boarder so that they could hook up more frequently; that actually Sara was using him to get closer to Wilhelm, because the Crown Prince was her ultimate target, she so obviously wanted to be a Princess. And so on and so forth. All week long. 

Any attempt at correcting those rumors, at setting the story straight, were pointless. Nobody really wanted to know the truth, they just relished the buzz. It was like a sport. The more scandalous, the better. The two ‘scandals’ were juicy enough to feed the gossip-greedy masses for weeks, if not months. 

He was mentally exhausted. 

August decided to lounge around for a bit longer and then sneak out when no one was looking. 

As if they knew that he was yearning to get away, the conversation turned to the video leak. August felt a little sick. 

“But if they haven’t found the culprit yet, and they’re the Royal Court and have all these resources available, then are they ever going to find anything?”

“I saw a TikTok saying that the school might be covering up a breach of network security, they don’t want to admit that a hacker might have gotten all our information, or that they decided to pay a ransom to get it back.” 

“That’s just a theory. And it doesn’t cover the fact that someone first took the video and had it on their phone that was then hacked.”

“Maybe it’s not really a phone video? Maybe they hacked into a security camera?” 

“It’s definitely a phone video. And there are no security cameras pointing at dorm windows, dumbass.”

“If there were, then a camera would have captured the person who was outside Wilhelm’s window recording them, wouldn’t it? And there’s none of that either.”

“I still think it was some creep who trespassed into the grounds. And he could still be at large.” 

“I think the creep was Jonas. Confess your crime, Jonas!” 

“Fuck off,” the second-year boy named Jonas said, punching the other boy in the shoulder.

Whilst August dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, he watched from across the room as Wilhelm and Simon got up and waved goodbye to Felice and Maddie. Wilhelm seemed to be supporting himself on Simon quite a bit, an arm around his shoulders, like he was too tipsy to walk on his own. August had watched him enough throughout the night to know that he wasn’t really drunk at all, he had barely had any alcohol at all; Wilhelm had been nursing the same glass that Vincent poured him when he first got there, and had refilled it with Pommac or water from the drinks table, much like August. 

Whatever had prompted them to leave, they made their way quickly through the crowd, people approaching them. A tipsy Fredrika pulled them both into a hug, and Stella practically had to pry her off of them. They awkwardly tried to get past Vincent unnoticed, but Vincent started berating them for leaving so early. They breezed past him, brushing him off. Vincent looked like a bratty child all of a sudden, huffing and frowning at them as they walked away.

“Oh, they’re leaving,” one girl mused excitedly.

“Back to their little love nest,” added Pär, as Wilhelm and Simon disappeared through the entrance window. August drowned out the stupid comments that followed, because he couldn’t take it anymore. 

Why did he post that fucking video? Why had he let himself do that? Why had he even kept it on his phone? Why the fuck did he do that? What was he trying to achieve?

He couldn’t help but think, as he had been thinking since goddamn St. Lucia night, that if only he had waited a bit longer, or if Minou’s call had come in a bit earlier… then he would not have landed himself in the biggest pile of shit he could have ever imagined. And he wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

It didn’t matter anymore, he guessed, but he couldn’t help going over every single fucking twist of fate, bookended between the day Wilhelm arrived at Hillerska and the morning at the shooting range, that had led him to this moment, here, sitting surrounded by the pricks at school talking shit about everyone, about him, about Sara, about each other…

An annoyed Vincent appeared beside them. “The Crown Prince has become very lightweight as of recent. Bad influences, I guess,” he said haughtily, even more annoyed when neither August nor Nils seemed to acknowledge his comment. 

Everyone was talking very animatedly about them again; more people had joined the group, to come dish about the Crown Prince and his boyfriend, from the brief interactions that they had before they left. 

August decided this was the perfect opportunity to ‘go have a piss’ outside, and then simply not come back. But as he was about to stand up, Nils beat him to it, stretching a little. 

“You’re leaving too?” August asked. Nils nodded, his face sour. 

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well. Might be coming down with something.”

Vincent threw his arms up in exasperation. “Seriously, what is wrong with you people? First the prince and his sosse boyfriend, and now you too. What a pathetic bunch of assholes. I expected that from them, but you?”

Nils merely shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t want you catching what I’ve got, so… Good night.” He waved goodbye to the group and walked toward the exit. August watched him, wondering if Nils was just making an excuse. He hadn’t mentioned feeling unwell until now, though he had looked a bit worse for wear.  

Vincent plopped down onto the seat Nils had just vacated, beside August, and gave a loud sigh. “I really hope you’re not bailing out too.” August smirked humorlessly.

“I might, when you least expect it.”

“Pussy,” Vincent sneered, taking a swig from the bottle he was holding. “What’s up with you, man? You’ve barely been yourself lately. You’ve been hiding out a lot in your room or the gym.”

August shook his head, perplexed. Had he been acting noticeably strange? “It’s nothing. I think it’s just the stress. I feel like I haven’t been giving it my all this semester, and I need to recover.”

“Oh, okay, so it’s not about Wilhelm stealing your thunder?” Vincent teased. August pretended to be clueless.

“What thunder?”

“Never mind. But it’s not a problem with me either, is it? I mean, there’s not any bad blood between us anymore?”

“Bad blood?”

“You know, because I’m prefect now, and team captain…” 

August chuckled. Vincent still thought he had actually earned those roles, that it was something he deserved and not something that he had simply been handed because of Wilhelm’s personal vendetta against August. Vincent had absolutely no idea that he was just a pawn in a chess game between the two cousins. He merely chuckled.

“Nah, that’s fine. I don’t care about that anymore.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. As much as he loved it, loved being in control, loved being the authority, he also had too much on his plate right now to care. Not like he had used to.  

“Sure you don’t,” Vincent stated, a hint of sarcasm, like he could see right through August. August shook his head again, more sincerely this time. 

“No, I really don’t. I won’t lie, I really liked playing that role, but I think that was a big part of my stress, so now that I don’t have to worry about that, I can focus on my grades and my future. So, good luck with that.”

“You might be right. You’re lucky that you don’t have to deal with what I’m dealing right now. First Simon quit, and just this week Wille did too. And now I have to dig through the pool of rejects to find replacements. Or we’ll never be ready for an actual competition. And time’s running out.”

August tried to downplay his surprise.

“Wille quit?”

“Yeah, he told me yesterday.”

“I had no idea,” August said in a small voice. He shouldn’t be shocked, though. Beyond removing August as the team captain, Wilhelm would still be on the same team as him, and they would have to work together, train together, help each other out. August knew this was bound to happen.

It was not a great loss. Wilhelm had started out strong, showing commitment, wanting to live up to Erik’s legacy, but then all that had been presumably derailed by a certain other teammate.  

“I was going to announce it on the training session on Monday, but I would have thought you knew already. I thought you guys talked. I thought you would have tried to talk him out of it,” Vincent said. August shrugged.

“What can I say? He has a mind of his own.”

The music was suddenly louder, and a few people around them stood up to dance. Another perfect moment for him to sneak out.

”Is there something going on between you?” Vincent asked, speaking louder. August kept himself from rolling his eyes. 

“No, everything’s fine,” he lied. 

“It’s just that… it looked like something was going on, during the jubilee.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, bro, the way he looked at you when he got up to do his speech? The fact that you were halfway to the podium when he finally got up?”

August really wished that Vincent would fuck off. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It just felt like there was something off between you. This whole time, really.”

“Nah, he just doesn’t… we… it’s not like Erik and I. We just don’t have the same relationship. We’re too different.”

“I see.”

“I’ve tried being a good older cousin, help him, guide him. And he just doesn’t care, he thinks he knows what he’s doing. So I’m done. He can do whatever he wants. I was just looking out for him, as I promised Erik. But he doesn’t want me watching over him.”

“Yep. He’s pig-headed like that.”

“And that day, I was asked to be ready to take over for him for the speech, because he hadn’t been feeling well. But he got up to do in anyway, I guess it was more important to him to make his little announcement,” August added with a derisive look. 

“Hmm, I see.”

“But nah, we’re cool. We’re just not close.”

The understatement of the century. However, Vincent was nodding, throwing back the rest of his drink, and for a moment it seemed like he was finally done interrogating August.

“I thought it might have something to do with the thing about you and Simon’s lunatic sister,” he added.

August didn’t respond, just took a sip of his drink. “Hmm.”

“So… is it true?” Vincent pushed. 

“What?” August retorted.

“You and Sara?”

“Me and Sara what?”

“Sara Eriksson, your cousin’s… boyfriend’s… sister…” Vincent said, his words starting to slur a little, which seemed to amuse him. “You two had a… thing?”

August knew that there was a big chance that Vincent would still remember this conversation in the morning, so he had to calculate his words. “Nah.”

“Bullshit, man. It was all over the school. No way you didn’t hear. Felice was mad as hell. I didn’t think she had been so invested in your short-lived relationship so much that she would get so jealous. Especially when she was trying to get with the Crown Prince.”

August took a discreet, deep breath. “I don’t pay attention to rumors.”

“But you did have a thing with Sara, didn’t you?” Vincent said, more an assertion than a question. “Why did you keep it so secret?”

August didn’t want to keep it a secret. That was just how things were supposed to work. There was a delicate balance between his private life and what he showed the public. Anything he did, anyone he spent time with, could be used against him, by his classmates, his friends, his cousin, anyone. Even Sara herself. 

(He was aware of the irony).

This whole week he had been pondering what to do, or if he should do anything at all. Sara had moved out of Manor house, she was showing up to class and immediately heading home as soon as school was over, and she spent most of the day by herself, since her friends weren’t speaking to her. He’d seen her trying to approach Simon, but her brother avoided her just as much as everyone else. 

August had tried approaching her once, but she had taken one look at him, her face filled with a mixture of anguish, anger and disappointment, and she fled immediately, scurrying into a girls’ bathroom. He had tried texting her a few times, but she eventually blocked him. 

Maybe he should wait a while, let her cool down. Everything was too recent. Spirits were heated, rumors were fresh. Maybe it was best to let everything calm down again. 

Or maybe he should just move on. After all, he’d be graduating soon, and the whole situation was too complicated to resolve. 

It’s not that he didn’t care about Sara, it’s not that it hadn’t meant anything, but he had to be realistic; she didn’t want anything to do with him, they had both made mistakes, and maybe it was best to just leave things as they were. 

“It was just a hookup,” he lied again. 

Vincent nodded slowly, eyebrows slightly raised. That either meant admiration, or he was still confused about August choosing Sara for this particular purpose. “She doesn’t seem like the hookup type.”

It was August’s turn to nod. No, Sara was not a no-feelings attached kind of person, even though she seemed like it at first. Either because that had been her aim from the beginning but got too involved, or because August himself could not believe that someone, anyone, would be interested in him that way, not after knowing the things that Sara knew about him, not after what he had done, and especially not after he had a minor breakdown in front of her. That was not attractive, so why was she still attracted?

But that was between him and her.

“She’s not. That’s why it couldn’t continue,” he said. 

Would it have continued if things hadn’t turned out the way they had, if they hadn’t gotten caught? Would Sara not have changed her mind about them, if it hadn’t been for Felice and Simon and Wilhelm? 

Would she have forgiven him?

“I get it,” Vincent said, but obviously he didn’t get it. “She seems intense, though.”

“A bit, yeah,” August said. 

It had been intense. More intense than he had expected, more intense that he was prepared to deal with on top of everything else. 

“Was it worth it, though?” Vincent asked. That was an unexpectedly insightful question coming from Vincent (although he probably didn’t mean it in an insightful way, he probably just wanted to know if the sex had been that good. And then he’d probably tell everyone.)

Either way, August did not want to think about it. As complicated as things had been, as much as circumstances had made it short-lived and pointless, being with Sara had been one of the few times in his recent years that he had felt like he didn’t have to keep up appearances. She didn’t care about the shit that he had done. She understood him in a way that no one else had. 

Had he been in love with her? He asked himself that question quite often, and often the answer was yes. But maybe that was not something that he could afford himself right now. 

He couldn’t even afford the horse that he had bought for her, in an attempt to make things right with her, and which she had promptly turned down, and that was now in his care. 

(And now he couldn’t get rid of it, it wasn’t as easy. He couldn’t undo yet another mistake. They kept piling up.)

“I haven’t decided yet,” he said with a sigh and a lift of his eyebrows, trying to convey how much he didn’t want to talk about it. Vincent, thankfully, simply nodded and after a moment he leaned forward to join in whatever menial conversation the group had moved onto now.  

A couple of minutes later, August emptied the remainders of his flask into his glass and drank it in one gulp, then announced that he had too much to drink and that he was going out for a piss. Vincent didn’t seem to hear him, didn’t even glance over at him as August walked away. 

August pretended to be a little uncoordinated as he climbed out the window, for anyone who might be watching. He walked past the guys using the bushes as urinals, walked past a couple making out on the grass, and made his slow way back to Forest Ridge. Nobody texted him to ask where he’d gone. 

Notes:

I honestly think, after analyzing August’s behavior during parties, that a) he doesn’t actually like parties, because they seem dumb and unsophisticated b) he probably doesn’t drink for the reasons I mention in the fic, and c) he doesn’t mind the gossip unless he’s the target of it.
August used to be on top of the world at Hillerska, and he’s never actually considered how he’s going to assert his authority beyond it, when it’s so clearly something so fragile.
Next chapter gets fun and smutty again, I promise.

Chapter 8: Jealousy

Summary:

A late night encounter after the post-jubilee party brings a somewhat shocking revelation, and it turns out that Simon is totally the jealous type.
Simon POV.

Notes:

Silly smutty cutesy chapter coming right up.
This might have been one of the first chapters that I wrote, inspired by two particular moments in season 2: the burnball scene in episode 4, and the end of episode 5. Also by the age old question: does Nils want to get with Wille? Spoiler alert: I think he definitely does.
TW: smut, handjobs, frotting, dom/verse Simon, a lot of swearing, substance use.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It was three in the morning and Simon had to pee. 

He held it in for as long as he could, but he couldn’t go back to sleep, couldn’t risk peeing his boyfriend’s bed, just because he didn’t want to run into anyone in the first years’ bathroom. So he would have to go. 

Why did he drink so much Pommac and Coke at the party…

Simon and Wilhelm had succumbed to the coaxing of friends and fellow classmates and attended the post-jubilee party, which had been delayed for an entire week when Wilhelm was whisked away to Stockholm and a lot of unwanted media attention surrounded Hillerska. But the party had been imminent, whether the Crown Prince wanted to come or not (although most were set on him coming for sure, and Wilhelm was still learning to say ‘no’). Felice had ultimately convinced them when she assured them that August wouldn’t be there, as he was still sulking over Wilhelm’s speech snub. But she had been wrong; August’s commitment to saving face and playing the host was apparently more pressing. 

So they ended up at the palatset on Friday night, almost immediately regretting their decision. If it hadn’t been for the party, they would have gone to the Erikssons home as soon as classes ended. Now they would had to get up extra early the next morning, to avoid being detected by paparazzi, and for Simon to be able to make the most of his time at home. 

Simon worried that Wilhelm might want to actually party, like he had at his initiation and many times before (he had, after all, been famously referred to as a ‘party prince’), and that Simon was holding him back by clearly wishing to be elsewhere, so he tried to enjoy himself; it soon became evident that Wilhelm also badly wanted to be anywhere else. They hung out in one corner with Felice and Maddie, and minded their own business, doing their best to stay away from everyone else, particularly August and Vincent. But it hadn’t been easy; as soon as they had arrived, people approached them, wanting to talk to them. Even Simon, who could usually pass unnoticed, was accosted more and more as the night progressed, and fellow students got drunker and became friendlier. A second-year girl even asked them to dance with her, tugging at Simon’s arm playfully and pouting at them both as if they were all best friends and this was a common occurrence. 

Wilhelm only had one actual drink the whole night, holding the same blue plastic cup that Vincent had pushed into his hand when he arrived, and pretended that it was a new one every time someone offered him another drink, refilling with water or Pommac when no one was looking. Simon also drank Pommac and Coke just to have something to do. But he just wanted to go to sleep. Around midnight he finally whispered to Wilhelm if they could leave, and Wilhelm practically groaned with relief, knocking back the rest of his ‘drink’, and telling Felice that they’d see her on Monday. He put an arm around Simon’s shoulders like he was too drunk to walk on his own and Simon was the only thing keeping him from taking an embarrassing tumble, and they headed out. On their way, they half-heard Vincent complaining about them, but they paid him no mind. They snuck out the window and, as soon as they were out of sight from the palatset, sprinted through the trees toward the boarding house, giggling like idiots. 

They scrambled back into their room through one of the windows, which they had left open a crack. The room had gotten cold, so they walked around packing their stuff for the next day, until it was warm enough again to take off their coats and change out of their clothes. By the time they got into bed, they were exhausted, so they both fell deeply asleep almost immediately. 

But just over an hour later Simon woke up needing to pee badly. He should have gone earlier, preferably before getting in bed. But he had been so tired. He wondered if the party was still going. 

Begrudginly, he gave in. With a light kiss to Wilhelm’s bare shoulder, he slid his hand out from under his arm and carefully lifted the covers to get out, rolling out of bed without waking him up. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, he grabbed the t-shirt he had been wearing earlier and pulled it on, then put on joggers and a pair of socks. 

He peeked out the door and listened for a bit, expecting to hear voices, of people drunkenly stumbling into their rooms through the windows or tiptoeing through the hallways. The coast was clear. Glancing back at Wilhelm’s sleeping form, Simon slid out of the room and closed the door quietly. 

He rounded the corner and groaned. The bathroom door was ajar, and a sliver of white fluorescent light flooded onto the dark hallway; someone was in there already. But no use going back, the closer he got to the bathroom, the stronger his urge to pee became, so he hurried inside. To his surprise, he found Nils in there, leaning against the window frame on the far side of the bathroom.

“Oh hey, Simon,” Nils said, his voice low. 

Simon made a face. Nils was both drunk and high. He was smoking a joint strategically by the window, but the smell of marijuana still lingered.

“What’s wrong with the third years’ bathroom?” He asked bitterly in lieu of a greeting. It was obvious why Nils was smoking weed in the first years’ bathroom and not the third years’. If the staff caught a whiff of marijuana, it was better for the younger kids to take the blame.

“I didn’t want to run into… some people…” Nils replied after a long pause. He stared at the burning tip of the joint, contemplative. 

Simon rolled his eyes and made his way to the urinals, picking the one furthest away from Nils. He wasn’t particularly intimidated by him; out of all the third year boys, Nils seemed uncharacteristically civil and harmless. At times he even came across as nice. But the fact remained that he was still a posh third year and friends with the likes of August and Vincent, and he was older and slightly bigger than him, and they were alone in the bathroom, and Wilhelm was asleep and didn’t know he was gone. Simon knew that he should never let his guard down with anyone, no matter how harmless they may seem, no matter the circumstances.

He stood at the urinal and, with a deep breath, relaxed and relieved himself, hoping that Nils wouldn’t talk to him.

“So…”

Ugh, no.

“There’s been a lot of, um… a lot of media attention on you guys… a lot… like, a lot… all the time.” Nils’s words were a bit slurred. He shifted his weight on his feet and leaned back against the window again, and took another slow drag from his joint. 

“Um, yeah… yeah, I’ve noticed,” Simon replied sarcastically. There was a long pause. He hoped that Nils had gotten the hint that he didn’t want to interact. It was late and he was barely awake, and it sure seemed that Nils had more important things in his mind. 

“And, uh… how are you coping with… all that?” Nils asked in a over-the-top friendly manner. Simon let out a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. He really wished he could leave quickly, but he held it in too long, and now it would take some time. 

“Fine,” he responded. There was a chuckle behind him. 

“Come on…” Nils said, “I know it must suck… it looks like it sucks…”

Simon tried to focus on the task at hand. “Yeah, it’s a lot, but… it’ll pass.”

He really hoped that would be the end of it, that the conversation was over.

“I get it,” Nils started again. “If it were me…” he clicked his tongue, “I’d have trouble too…”

Simon rolled his eyes. He heard a cough and a deep inhale, and a low hum. He willed himself to pee faster. 

“And… is it worth it?”

That was not a question that he expected, Simon almost lost his focus for a second.

Was it worth it? To weather a new and different and weirder hell storm on a daily basis? To be with Wilhelm? 

Surprisingly yes. Who would have thought that he’d be willing to put up with all of that? For love? Not him. And yet he was. He would do anything for Wilhelm, just like Wilhelm would do anything for him. 

And no matter how bad things got, at the end of the day they got to be together, and that was worth everything.

However, this wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he wanted to talk to anyone at Hillerska about, especially not one of August’s friends. But he also didn’t want to sound like he was avoiding the question. 

He wondered if Nils would even remember any of this in the morning. 

“What do you think?” He said, throwing a small, wry smile over his shoulder. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nils lift his eyebrows and nod. For a moment it seemed like he was finally not going to say anything else, but just as Simon felt he was finally almost done, Nils drew in another sharp breath and cleared his throat. 

“I think… you should have kept it a secret…”

Simon frowned to himself and rolled his eyes again. He hated that word now. Especially coming from someone like Nils. 

“Oh do you?” He muttered, distracted. The tension in his body ebbed away completely.

“Yeah… It’s… it’s what I would’ve done…”

“I see.”

“I mean… it’s what I offered to do…”

Wait, what?

Simon blinked and absent-mindedly tucked himself back into his joggers and flushed, and very slowly and carefully walked over to the sinks to wash his hands. He glanced casually at Nils, who was looking out the window, a wistful look on his face. Trying to keep a straight face, Simon turned on one of the faucets and reached for the liquid soap and started lathering. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, sounding much more nonchalant than he actually felt all of a sudden. It was a long pause before Nils said anything, and for once Simon actually hoped he would continue to talk. 

“Well… discretion… is my specialty…” Nils said, unaware of the irony of his words at that moment, when he was being rather candid. Simon rinsed his hands for a long time, very thoroughly.

“In what way?”

There was a shuffling behind him and Simon turned off the faucet. Nils straightened up and carefully stubbed the joint on the outside of the windowsill before pulling the window closed. He produced a matte black cigarette case from an inside pocket in his coat and put the half-used joint inside, snapped it close and placed it back in the same pocket. Simon watched him over his shoulder, shaking the water from his hands and reaching for a paper napkin to dry off. He noticed there and then that Nils had still been wearing a coat, so either he expected to stand by the window smoking for a long time, or he had just gotten in, or both. He looked cold. Simon realized that the bathroom overall felt colder than usual. 

“Never mind…” Nils sighed, glancing at his watch. “I guess… that’s not what he was looking for… He wasn’t down to… I guess he just wanted… you,” he said, gesturing in his general direction. “Whatever it is about you that makes you… so special that it was so important to tell… the whole world…”

Simon looked at him, at the expression he wore when he said that, at the slight bitterness behind his words. Nils approached him, shoes echoing in the large and silent bathroom. Simon unconsciously balled his hands into fists.

“So… you better be up for it… for all this shitstorm…” Nils said, pointing at him with an index finger, gesturing as if he were poking Simon in the chest, but not actually touching him. Simon narrowed his eyes at him and scoffed.

“Or what?” 

Nils shrugged. “Or, you know… maybe you should have… left it up to someone else who would…”

Simon tried to contain an amused smile.

“Someone like…” he started, waiting for Nils to fill in the blank. 

Nils didn’t say anything else, a sly grin on his face; with the same index finger, he touched his forehead and then pointed at Simon, in a weird finger-guns gesture of goodbye, and winked. Simon watched him go, dragging his feet slightly, hands in his pockets, a little uncoordinated as he opened the door and walked out. 

Maybe Nils was indeed a bit self-aware. Or thought he was. 

Simon realized that he’d been holding his breath and his mouth had fallen open. He had to laugh to himself, standing there in shock. Did all of this really just happen or was he that sleepy?

Because there was a lot Nils didn’t say with his voice, but his body language and facial expression spoke volumes, as far as Simon could perceive. Nils had either just confessed to Simon that he had wanted to fuck his boyfriend, or something deeper than that. 

And knowing Wilhelm, he probably had no clue.

After a few minutes of standing there in shock, Simon shook his head and left the bathroom, before he would meet anyone else. 

He closed the door to their room as quietly as he could. There was a sharp inhale from the bed.

“Oh hey,” Wilhelm’s sleepy voice said. Simon approached the bed and sat down.

“Hey, I’m sorry I woke you,” he whispered. Wilhelm fumbled in the dark for his hand.

“Hmm, it’s okay… Ugh, do you smell like… weed…?”

Simon pulled off his t-shirt and sniffed it. It had caught some of the weed smell. He wiggled out of his joggers too, and hung them off the back of the desk chair, so they might air themselves out. 

“Maybe. I ran into Nils in the bathroom, and he was smoking,” he explained, crawling back under the covers. “He seemed to have been there for a while.”

“Hmm,” Wilhelm mumbled, as he lay on his back and Simon fitted himself to his side. 

“He said some things,” Simon added. Wilhelm’s eyes flung open. 

“Did he say something awful to you?” 

Simon nuzzled Wilhelm’s neck. “Off-handedly, yes. He seemed to be trying to figure out what makes me so special that you’d want to tell the whole world.”

“Ugh, what an asshole.”

Simon was quiet for a moment, still processing the entire interaction in the bathroom. 

“I mean, yeah, but also… what did he offer you?”

“What?”

“He said he offered you something. He offered you to keep it a secret.”

“To keep what a secret?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Oh… okay,” Wilhelm turned slightly onto his side, to look at Simon. “Okay, look, I’m only telling you because we have no secrets between us, but also because… I trust you not to tell anyone.”

“That he’s gay?” Simon said. Wilhelm looked surprised for a moment, then relieved.

“Oh, good, you already knew. I didn’t out him. How did you find out?”

“Um…” Simon hesitated, “he just said something that kind of… confirmed it. I’m guessing he wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t know that I was gay too… How did you find out?”

“I don’t know if I should say… it’s his business,” Wilhelm started. “He just… told me. I guess he was kind of trying to be supportive, since I was broken up about, well, everything. About you, about having to deny the video… And he said things that I guess were kind of helpful, and it made me feel a bit better, to know someone else who could kind of understand, but… in retrospect I’m kind of glad that I didn’t listen too much.”

“Like what?”

“Like, well, he basically said that it’s too difficult, being out, and it’s just easier to keep it a secret. I think that made me feel a bit better for a bit, but then I realized that I didn’t want to have to pretend.” Wilhelm sighed. “He also said that of course you wouldn’t understand what a big deal it could be for me, because it’s different for you. I get what he meant, but that definitely didn’t make me feel better.”

Simon rolled his eyes. 

“I think he thought that you and I had been just a hookup, and I think most people thought the same,” Wilhelm added.

Simon nodded. “Yeah, I got that when he…” he hesitated again. “Anyway, don’t avoid the question.” He propped himself up onto his elbow and looked down at Wilhelm. “What did he offer you?”

There was a silence. Wilhelm looked like he had drifted off to sleep again, but in the dark Simon could see him suddenly open his eyes and stare up at the ceiling. 

“He offered to organize a trip, so that I could meet… guys,” he said carefully. Simon’s eyes widened slightly, smiling in amusement.

“Guys?”

“For me to pick… for like a rebound. Like, to get over you,” Wilhelm continued in a sheepish. “Guys to hook up with and that would be discreet. We’d go to this place in Verbier, and I could get with someone if I wanted, and nothing would get out. He said that he did it all the time, and the fact that no one, including me, knew that he was gay was proof of how discreet it was. I appreciated that he was trying to help me, but it was also a bit much. He said that I needed to be with ‘someone from my own league’, you know, ‘one of us’,” Wilhelm added, doing air quotations with his fingers and making a face. “Such an elitist prick.”

“Wow.” Simon was sure now. ‘One of us’? Oh Nils…

“The sole idea was so… ugh, depressing, it’s even more depressing in retrospect… but I think I was so sad, I might have considered it for like a split second. I even said yes, because he was really intense about it, but… luckily it went away pretty quick.”

Simon felt sad. They both had been so desperate to move on, to stop the heartache. But it had been impossible. “I guess that’s more or less what I was trying to do with Marcus.”

“Or what I tried to do with Felice,” Wilhelm said, closing his eyes. “I mean, even if you and I hand’t gotten back together, I don’t know if I would have actually gone through with it. I think it would have been too soon, I still would have been too sad… And it wasn’t even about that, I didn’t just want to hook up with someone random. It’s not what I wanted, it would never make me feel better or whatever.”

Simon hummed in agreement and nodded. It hadn’t been for him either. As bad as it made him feel to lead Marcus on like that, he had been clear that he hadn’t been looking for anything serious. He just wanted a rebound. Turned out he wasn’t a rebound type of guy at all.

“Did… Nils ever… offer?” He asked tentatively. Wilhelm’s eyes opened again. 

“Offer what?”

“You know…”

“To hook up with me? Nah,” Wilhelm replied without missing a beat, like he genuinely thought the idea was absurd. But Simon knew it wasn’t absurd. He had witnessed some very candid and very unexpected revelation that confirmed that there was nothing absurd about it. 

“Hmm… maybe he was hoping that it would be your idea,” he mused. 

Wilhelm scoffed. “I doubt it. I doubt he’s remotely interested in me in that way.”

That settled it, for Wilhelm at least, that was the end of that topic, like he wouldn’t even bother to think further on that.

”Wille…” Simon began, but stopped. 

Not only was he pretty sure that Nils would have gotten with Wilhelm if the possibility had presented itself, but it just dawned on Simon that Wilhelm seemed to be unaware of his own attractiveness. There was never anything in his attitude, in the way that he carried himself or the way that he spoke, that indicated that he knew he was hot. Even though all those things about him were pretty hot most of the time: his posture, his voice, his confidence in his own body, even in the moments when he was clumsy or awkward. 

And he was tall, and his hair was nice and soft, and his freckles were adorable, and his brown eyes could melt chocolate, and he smelled so good all the time, and his neck… his hands… his lips…

Perhaps it had to do with the fact that Wilhelm thought (sometimes correctly) that people only approached him because of his title. Or perhaps he was just that oblivious.

As much as he wanted to reassure Wilhelm that he was indeed attractive, Simon didn’t exactly want to point out what he perceived to be another boy’s unrequited feelings for him. Especially when said boy was, for all intents and purposes, still closeted. Also older, and a friend of Wilhelm’s biggest foe. And an elitist prick.

He found himself trying to remember if he had witnessed any previous interactions between Nils and Wilhelm, during rowing practice or the locker rooms or some other time, which could have confirmed this way sooner, but he probably wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking for it, especially if Nils prided himself on being discreet. 

If he were honest with himself, Simon felt a little proud that, for whatever twisted logic Nils might use to think of himself as a more advantageous match for Wilhelm, whether it was because he was upper class or more mature or in Wilhelm’s ‘own league’ or whatever, none of those things ultimately mattered to Wilhelm. Against all societal expectations, the one who had stolen the Crown Prince’s heart had been him: a working-class first year boy.

However, if he were completely honest with himself (and with Wilhelm), he would also admit that the thought of another boy, an older boy, having a thing for Wilhelm… it bothered him. He wasn’t even thinking about all the guys that Wilhelm had mentioned, the ones he was supposed to meet on that hypothetical trip. No, it was just this one boy that bothered him. The way it had bothered him when he sat at lunch and had to hear the boys fishing for details on the make out session between Wilhelm and Felice. 

It wasn’t fair, of course, especially since Simon himself had actively sought attention in someone else. It wasn’t fair to feel this way about someone else potentially pursuing something with Wilhelm when Simon had been pursuing something with Marcus, and in front of Wilhelm. 

It wasn’t fair. But he couldn’t help it.

Jealousy reared its ugly head, much like it had done that day when he heard about Felice. 

No, much worse. The idea of Felice didn’t get him worked up like the idea of Nils. Felice didn’t make his blood boil, unlike other people in Hillerska. Other boys in Hillerska. A third year. A friend of August. An elitist prick. A bully. 

“Hey,” Wilhelm said suddenly. Simon was yanked from his thoughts. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m just… it’s gonna take me a while to fall asleep again,” Simon said dismissively. 

“I can stay up with you until you do,” Wilhelm said, reaching up to tug gently at a curl falling over Simon’s forehead. It was such an unconscious gesture, but it made Simon blush.

“I have a better idea,” he said, leaning down to kiss Wilhelm, his hand pressed gently to Wilhelm’s ribs and slowly making its way to his waist, to the spot right above the hipbone. 

He pulled back for a moment, to look at Wilhelm; his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see his face again. Wilhelm’s eyes fluttered open, his lips slightly parted. This boy looking up at him, this flabbergastingly beautiful boy. How could he not know…? 

“I like this idea,” Wilhelm whispered, breathy, a tiny smile on the corners of his lips. Simon smiled bigger.

“Yeah?”

Wilhelm licked his lips, an unconscious gesture that made Simon a little more eager. He kissed him again, a long, drawn out deep kiss that took both their breaths away, feeling Wilhelm’s hands at his waist, pulling him closer. 

Simon started kissing his way down Wilhelm’s body, starting with a nip at the jaw, then down his chest, fixating on the dip between his pecs, placing long kisses there. His left hand tugged gently at the waistband of his pants and slid under the fabric, and he felt Wilhelm shiver a little when Simon’s hand came in contact with his cock. Simon bit his lip excitedly as he palmed his boyfriend, feeling how hard he suddenly was. Simon’s own cock stiffened in his pants. They were both so quickly turned on; as soon as Simon began stroking him gently, Wilhelm’s head fell back, eyes closed, moaning and gasping lightly with every stroke of Simon’s hand, his hips bucking. 

They were still getting to know each other, still discovering what the other liked and disliked, still finding out what made them go crazy. Simon felt the jitter of excitement that he always got before trying anything new that he thought might elicit a reaction - a good or bad one. So he moved very slowly, leaving a trail of kisses from Wilhelm’s sternum to his left pec, until he grazed one of Wilhelm’s nipples with his lips. The skin all over Wilhelm’s body was covered in goosebumps, his nipples becoming taut, and Simon smiled to himself as he pulled the one he had chosen into his mouth. 

Wilhelm’s hands slid up from Simon’s waist and shoulder to his hair, Simon getting goosebumps himself as fingers tangled in his curls, as Simon licked and sucked on the nipple firmly but tenderly. The hiss that escaped Wilhelm, the way that he squirmed under Simon’s mouth and hand, the firm grip with which he encouraged Simon to not stop with the attention he was giving his chest and his cock, made Simon moan impatiently. As if to stave off the growing eagerness, he slowed his hand’s pace a little and moved on to the other nipple, eliciting another pleasurable hiss from his boyfriend. 

“Hmmm, fuck,” whispered Wilhelm softly, his hands gliding down Simon’s back and up again into his hair, in turns, sending shivers down Simon’s entire body. He made a mental note about how sensitive Wilhelm’s nipples were, made a mental note of his whole reaction. He wanted to try something else. 

Simon sat up and pulled his hand out of Wilhelm’s pants, feeling a rush of anticipation as he grabbed his knees to spread them. The look of surprise and excitation on Wilhelm’s face only made Simon more aroused. He should never underestimate how hot it could be to spread his boyfriend’s legs apart with his hands and get himself between them. He hovered over Wilhelm, lining up their crotches, and started slowly rubbing their cocks together through their underwear. 

He felt Wilhelm begin to writhe underneath him, grinding against him. Instead of getting carried away and matching his rhythm, he started moving painfully but delightfully slow, every thrust making Wilhelm squirm and grow more and more desperate. 

Simon kissed him, and Wilhelm moaned into the kiss, his hands sliding up and down his back, clutching at his waist, until they slid under the waistband of his pants and grabbed his ass, and as much as Simon loved it, he knew that he wouldn’t last long like this.

He wanted to show him, show Wilhelm how much he wanted this, how much he wanted him. Since the day they had gotten back together, Simon wanted to make up for lost time, he wanted sex all the time, he wanted Wilhelm all the time. 

He pulled Wilhelm’s hands out of his pants and intertwined their fingers, kissing the left knuckles, before lifting their joined hands and placing them on either side of Wilhelm’s head, a little higher, pressing them gently but firmly on the pillow. 

“Is this okay?” He asked, breathlessly, searching his boyfriend’s face for any sign of discomfort or apprehension at being pinned down this way. They had never done something like this. Was it too much? Too rough? Too soon? He would never want to do anything that Wilhelm didn’t like. 

But the twinkle in Wilhelm’s eyes and the smile on his face spoke volumes, his chest heaving with lust. “Uh-huh,” he only uttered, with a little enthusiastic nod. Simon’s breathing quickened too. The sight of Wilhelm like this was doing a lot of things to him. That hadn’t been part of the original idea, that was a stroke of inspiration he’d just had. 

“Okay, you tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, swallowing nervously as he kissed him again, moving his hips again, feeling Wilhelm’s hips moving too.

“Hmm, no, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop,” Wilhelm groaned against his lips.

Simon rutted against him a bit faster, trying to control his pace, feeling Wilhelm’s bulge against his, feeling the delicious friction between them, the heat building up. Wilhelm’s eyes fluttered closed and his head tilted back, and Simon took the opportunity to ravage his throat, kissing and sucking at his neck. He had developed a fixation with Wilhelm’s neck since he’d cut his hair. He particularly liked the spot where his neck and his collarbone met, latching hungrily and desperately onto it with his mouth, making Wilhelm hiss and moan. 

Mark him, he’s yours, a low voice in the back of his mind growled. Simon was kind of shocked by this subconscious impulse, and he tried to ignore it, but he was sure the damage had been done, in his urge. There was no way that Wilhelm’s pale neck was not suddenly raw from Simon’s voracious lips. 

“Fuck… fuck…” Wilhelm moaned, completely forgetting himself. If someone walked past the door they might hear them. Simon no longer cared, instead thrusting his hips faster. He liked the way Wilhelm writhed underneath him, the way his legs wrapped around Simon’s hips. He liked the way Wilhelm was totally lost, unable to control the noises he made. And he liked that he was the cause of it. 

The heat pooled low in his belly. “Shit, fuck… Simon…” Wilhelm was nearly incoherent, his voice breathy. Simon recaptured his lips with his own, to quiet Wilhelm’s moaning as well as his own. He was so close now, so desperate to come, to make his boyfriend come, but he also never wanted this to end. He felt like he was on fire, like every cell in his body would combust, and it was driving him crazy, and yet he could have stayed like this forever. 

He felt Wilhelm begin to convulse beneath him, his head thrown back, mouth open in a silent moan. Simon kissed his jaw, to keep himself from making a noise, thrusting on, almost losing his rhythm as he felt Wilhelm’s legs wrap tighter, pulling him closer, felt the heels of his feet rubbing up and down the back of Simon’s thighs. With one long shuddering breath and low moan, he felt himself coming, his cock twitching, his whole lower body clenching. Simon pressed his forehead to Wilhelm’s, their breathing falling into synch as they rode out their orgasms together. 

Wilhelm’s head fell back against the pillow again with a satisfied sigh. Simon stayed still, on top of him, fitted between his legs, fingers still interlaced, their chests heaving against each other’s. He kissed the corner of Wilhelm’s lips, letting out a hum of delight. 

“You okay?” He whispered. 

“Hmm…” Wilhelm merely murmured, eyes half-closed. He looked adorable, hair an absolute mess. Simon could just see a pink flush coloring his freckled nose and cheeks and all the way down his neck. He let go of one of Wilhelm’s hands so he could push his own hair out of his forehead, and then proceeded to fluff up Wilhelm’s hair even more. He pulled their still joined hands to his lips and kissed his fingers, then kissed his lips again. Wilhelm cupped his face with his free hand, kissing back enthusiastically.

“That was, um… wow… I’m so glad you woke me up,” Wilhelm smiled wryly.

Simon chuckled. “I’m so glad I couldn’t go back to sleep.” He bit his lip. ”I might have gotten a bit too, ehm, excited…”

“What?” Wilhelm looked confused. Simon pointed to his neck, to the spot that was still red and that would soon go dark. “Oh, did you… did you give me a hickey?” He asked, trying to find the spot with his hand. Simon guided his fingers to it. 

“Yeah, sorry. It’s here,” he said. Wilhelm winced as soon as he touched it. “Sorry,” Simon repeated, wincing too. 

Wilhelm smiled. “Nah, it’s okay. I like that you got carried away. You didn’t do it on purpose.”

Simon licked his lips and shook his head. “Oh, of course not.”

Wilhelm sighed and made a face. “There’s an absolute mess in my pants,” he muttered, making Simon laugh. 

“Yeah, mine too.”

They peeled off their underwear, and Wilhelm got up to fetch a spare towel from the sink, so they could clean themselves up. Neither reached for a fresh set of pants, just wrapped themselves around each other under the covers. Wilhelm pulled Simon to his chest, and Simon lifted his head to kiss the spot on Wilhelm’s neck that he had marked, nuzzling his jaw with his nose and resting his head on his shoulder. He gave a satisfied sigh and closed his eyes, ready for sleep to take him.

“Wait…” Wilhelm said suddenly, after a beat. “Was it… on purpose?”

Fuck, Simon thought. He lifted his head and looked indignant. “What? No.” But Wilhelm was eyeing him curiously. 

“It was, wasn’t it?” 

Simon rolled his eyes. It really wasn’t, but once it was done, Simon would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little proud of it.

“Did you get jealous?” Wilhelm asked, eyes narrowed. Simon feigned confusion, as if he’d never heard that word before.

Jealous?”

“Of the whole thing with Nils?”

Nils?”

“Stop repeating the end of the question. Seriously, was this because of that?” Wilhelm asked, pointing at the hickey. Simon felt the color rising to his face and quickly hid it in Wilhelm’s neck.

“Mmph, no, leave me alone,” he growled. Wilhelm made a noise between a scoff and a triumphant laugh.

“It was, wasn’t it? You are the jealous type.”

Simon squirmed and buried his face in Wilhelm’s shoulder. “Leave me alone! I’m not!”

Wilhelm was definitely chuckling now. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. This was definitely an improvement. The last time you got jealous, you chucked a ball at me really hard and it hurt. Both my body and my pride. This is much, much better.”

“Stooooop,” Simon groaned into Wilhelm’s skin. He felt Wilhelm stroke his hair comfortingly.

“Okay fine. I’ll stop. I don’t want to ruin this. This was incredible.” 

Simon’s face was still hot and bright red, so he refused to look at Wilhelm. But then he felt Wilhelm kiss the top of his head and nuzzle his curls with his nose, then planted a kiss on his forehead, and Simon closed his eyes and slowly tilted his head to receive more. Wilhelm continued to kiss his eyebrows, his eyes, and the bridge of his nose, then he stopped. Simon opened his eyes and found Wilhelm staring at him, trying really hard not to smile.

“Be honest,” he whispered. Simon rolled his eyes again.

“Fine…” he groaned, propping himself up on his elbow and sighed deeply, frustrated, annoyed at the bemused look Wilhelm was sporting. “Besides the fact that you just admitted to considering going on a trip to hook up with guys, multiple guys, apparently, which on its own is…” he shook his head, as if trying to shake an image out of his mind, “there… might have been something that Nils said… and the way that he said it…”

“What exactly did he say?” 

“I’m not gonna repeat it! But trust me, he said something, and he said it in a certain way, and I’m pretty sure he might have…” he exhaled loudly out of his nose, “a thing for you.”

Wilhelm’s face turned from pure amusement to perplexity. “Nils? For me? Really?”

Simon was unnerved at his boyfriend’s incredulity. “Wille, have you seen yourself? You know you’re hot, right?”

Wilhelm feigned bashfulness, hiding his face behind his hand and batting his eyelashes like a cartoon character. Simon chuckled, but he pulled his hand away from his face and lifted his chin up with one finger and pecked him on the lips. 

“I’m serious. Who wouldn’t be attracted to you? I am… I’ve been gone on you since the day I first saw you,” he said, blushing slightly, feeling very self-conscious. “It might have taken me a while to admit to myself that I had a crush on a fucking prince, but… yeah. Because you are, unfortunately, a handsome prince,” he teased. 

It was Wilhelm’s turn to blush a little. He rolled his eyes too. “Okay, fine. I’m dreamy, I’m literally Prince Charming, and Nils has the hots for me.” He grinned and lifted an eyebrow. “And you got jealous…” he said in a sing-song voice. 

Simon groaned louder now, throwing his head back, really annoyed now. “Ugh, fine! Yeah, I got a bit jealous.” 

Wilhelm nodded, pretending to be shocked. “And this is how you get back at him for even daring to look at me… by fucking me senseless and giving me a hickey that he might see so he knows I’m off limits.” He pretended to look into the distance thoughtfully. “Hmmm, what if I joined Grindr…”

“Shut up!” Simon started blushing again. 

“… and told you about all the guys that want to hook up with me…”

“You are enjoying this way too much.”

“I bet you enjoyed yourself today making sure that Nils knows his place. I know I really, really enjoyed how possessive you got.”

“Shut uuuuup,” Simon whined, burying his rapidly reddening face in his hands. 

It was Wilhelm’s turn to pull Simon’s hands away from his face and kiss him lightly. 

“You know that, even if he did have a crush on me or whatever, which I still doubt, or even if he had wanted to sleep with me, or even made a move or something… none of it matters. I wouldn’t have gone for it. I’m not remotely interested. He’s not you,” he said, tenderly pushing a curl out of Simon’s forehead. Simon tried and failed to not smile.

“Fine. I won’t be jealous anymore,” he said, pouting a little. 

“Really? Shit…” Wilhelm said, feigning disappointment. “Do you think if I let him talk to me for a bit tomorrow, you might get a little bit jealous again around nighttime?”

“Idiot,” Simon laughed, hitting him on the shoulder. “I don’t have to get jealous to do a repeat of tonight.”

Wilhelm smirked. “Excellent. I think I like it when you take control,” he whispered seductively. Simon kissed him on the jaw.

“I like it when you lose control,” he whispered back. 

Notes:

I know that we’ve seen that Simon is usually the sub in this relationship, but after the way he totally took control during that end scene in episode 5 of season 2, when he climbs onto Wille’s lap and ravishes him, I think there are definitely situations in which he likes to be in control and would be a bit dominant. Like when he lets his jealousy take over. Jealousy-fueled horniness.
I did say that, for season 3, I want protective Wille and possessive Simon. In the meantime, I wrote jealous possessive Simon for my own entertainment, just in case we don’t get enough in the future.
I will be exploring more about Nils in another chapter.

Chapter 9: Shell

Summary:

Malin thinks about how much the Crown Prince has changed. She has known him for longer than she’s worked as his bodyguard, after all.
Malin POV.

Notes:

Of course there was going to be a Malin POV. She probably has known him the longest.
Just a little reflection of how much Wilhelm has changed since she met him as a kid, and how much she uses Erik as a frame of reference. A little insight into what I think that relationship was like, and what it’s like now with the younger and more rebellious prince.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The sun would not rise for another two hours, but the sky was already a lighter shade of blue, and stars were disappearing. 

Malin loved driving like that. There was not another car on the road yet, not a single person in sight. Everything was quiet and still, as they slipped unnoticed through the twilight.

Beside her, Joakim was silent and surly. The change to their routine, after the Crown Prince had requested that his bodyguards not be posted outside his room or following him all around the school grounds, meant that Joakim was a bit crankier now if he had to get up earlier. Not Malin; she was a light sleeper and a morning person. 

She looked in the rearview mirror. In the backseat, Wilhelm’s head leaned against the window, and Simon’s head leaned against Wilhelm’s shoulder. Their eyes were closed.

Wilhelm was usually more of a morning person, too. Malin knew, however, that there had been a party in the grounds that night and knew that Wilhelm and Simon were in attendance, having spotted them heading back to Forest Ridge house a little past midnight, laughing quietly and holding hands, scrambling back in through their dorm room window. She and Joakim had been awake and doing rounds, watching from a distance until the Crown Prince returned safely to the boarding house. The lights of the room were on for a while after that, so Malin was sure that they had slept around four hours at most that night, before they had to get up. So had she and Joakim, for that matter.

Wilhelm had received confirmation the day before, from the Queen and the Royal Court, that he could after all spend the weekend at the Erikssons, as long as they remained in the house for the entire weekend, and they left as early as possible to avoid detection from paparazzi. Which meant getting up at an ungodly hour, before sunrise. The bodyguards were informed by the Royal Court that they had arranged for a relief security detail, that all plans had been checked with Linda Eriksson, and that the Crown Prince and Simon were to be driven on Saturday morning at five to the Bjärstad residence, and returned to Hillerska on Sunday night at eight. They went over the security instructions and agreed with Wilhelm on five in the morning outside the Forest Ridge building.

That morning, however, had an embarrassing start. The two bodyguards dutifully got up and gathered their stuff, and drove the car to the Forest Ridge building, parking outside at five on the dot. When, after five minutes of waiting, the boys didn’t show up, they called both their phones a few times and got no answer. Eventually they were forced to go all the way to Wilhelm and Simon’s dorm room. No amount of knocking or calling of their names worked. They unfortunately couldn’t be louder, or they would wake up the boys in the neighboring rooms. 

“I’m surprised he didn’t lock the door,” Joakim said, jiggling the knob and finding it unlocked. “Rock-paper-scissors?” He asked. 

Malin narrowed her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Listen, one of us is going to have to go in there and wake up a naked prince and his naked boyfriend, and it’s going to be embarrassing for both parties, but at least we both don’t have to go through that, so let’s leave it up to chance. Come on, best of three.”

Malin sighed. Indeed, the chances of the Crown Prince and his boyfriend not being in some state of undress in bed together were low, and one of them would have to go in there and startle them awake. And she knew that it would be her, because no matter how good she was at rock-paper-scissors, Joakim was always somehow better. It was like he could read her mind. 

She lost in two rounds, and gently pushed through into the dark room. 

Sure enough, they were deeply asleep in Wilhelm’s bed, evidently nude and squished up against each other, limbs tangled under the sheets. There was not a phone in sight, which explained why they didn’t hear the bodyguards’ multiple phone calls. 

Malin approached them with care. “Crown Prince?” She said quietly, averting her eyes. Neither boy stirred. “Wilhelm, Simon,” she said, a little louder.

Nothing. They were out cold. 

She groaned to herself. Extending her hand, she gently touched Wilhelm’s shoulder and repeated his name.

Wilhelm drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, a hand coming up to his face and rubbing his eyes. He opened them slowly, freezing like a deer in headlights when he spotted her hovering over them.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. He was completely disoriented.

“It’s ten past five. We must get going. You weren’t answering your phone, or the door.”

The haziness was quickly passing and he nearly jerk up to a sitting position, if he hadn’t suddenly remembered the still sleeping boy curled up against him. “I forgot to set my alarm. I’m so sorry. We’ll be right out.”

“Do you have everything else ready? Your bags packed?”

“Yeah, I do. We do. Sorry. Give us a few minutes.”

“We’ll be in the corridor.”

She walked out briskly. Behind her, she heard him trying to coax Simon awake, and the groans of response from the other boy.

She was more embarrassed for them than she was for herself. She was simply doing her job. But it was a relief that they were covered and she hadn’t seen much more of them. In fact, she had seen worse from the likes of Crown Prince Erik around the same age, from catching him mid-act once with a girl, to seeing his bare ass multiple times. 

“Bet this was a bit more of the ‘crown jewels’ that you expected to see on a regular basis, isn’t it?” Erik used to joke to defuse the awkwardness, after apologizing profusely, on every occasion. Nobody had warned her that this was part of the job, but Malin was used to it by now. 

Five minutes later, the door opened, and Wilhelm greeted them, bags in hands. He was wrapped up in a coat and a scarf, smiling and fully awake now. Behind him, Simon was leaning against the wall, in his puffer jacket, a white hoodie and a large scarf, a knitted cap covering his curly head, eyes closed and head nodding forward, like he was unable to stay awake.

Joakim and Malin took the bags from Wilhelm, and the prince turned to put an arm around Simon, to tug him along. Simon yawned and let himself be led, literally walking with his eyes closed. They made their way out as quietly as possible.

Malin did the walk-around whilst Joakim put the bags in the trunk of the car. She opened the door to the backseat, and Wilhelm led a barely awake Simon toward it, then suddenly clicked his fingers.

“Shit, I forgot something. I’ll be right back,” he said, and sort of leaned Simon against the car. Simon propped himself up onto the bonnet, hanging like a rag doll, whilst Wilhelm rushed back into the boarding house. 

“You’re not a morning person, are you?” Joakim asked with a smirk. 

“I’d hardly call this the morning, but… no, I’m not,” Simon mumbled, eyes still closed.

 Wilhelm returned with what looked like a notebook tucked under his arm and put it in his bag in the trunk, then picked Simon off the bonnet and led him inside the car. 

“I’m texting Linda to let her know we’re on the way, and informing Minou of the delay,” Joakim announced, pulling out his phone once they were all inside the car. Wilhelm nodded and yawned. 

“Sorry about that. Won’t happen again. We’ll just have a period of adjustment,” he said, seeming a bit embarrassed. 

“Not a problem,” Malin said, glancing at the rearview mirror as she put the car in drive and started toward the gates of Hillerska. Simon had scooted over in his seat to Wilhelm’s side and tucked himself under his arm, resting his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes. Wilhelm gingerly put his arm around his boyfriend and smiled fondly, kissing the top of his head and brushing his curls out of his forehead. He stared out the window. But he soon feel asleep too. They both slept for the short ride to the Eriksson house. 

When they got there, it was still dark and there was no one around, including no photographers in sight, thankfully. 

“Should we let them sleep a bit longer?” Joakim asked. She glanced at the back. Wilhelm and Simon didn’t ever stir when the car stopped. They looked as deeply asleep as they had a moment ago in bed. 

“I don’t mind,” she said. It felt wrong to wake them. 

“I’m going to do a round and tell Linda we’re here,” Joakim announced, sliding out of the car. The car door closing did not wake the boys up either. 

Malin watched as Joakim walked around the car, then he went up to the front door and knocked. Linda appeared at the door almost instantly, all fresh and smiling, and the two of them talked. Linda nodded and glanced at the car, and Malin waved. 

Whilst Joakim walked around the house, checking the area, Malin checked her phone. There was a reply from Minou, confirming the names of the bodyguards relieving him and Joakim, and the shifts they would take. 

- 5:38 a.m. - Make sure the Crown Prince doesn’t venture out of the house. We have word that tabloids suspect they might spend the weekend there. 

- 5:39 a.m. - The Crown Prince sent a request yesterday for two people to be allowed to come into the house tomorrow. Two friends of Simon. We will be sharing their information once it’s been approved.

Malin replied ‘noted’ to both texts. She glanced again at the sleeping boys. 

She had never seen Wilhelm so relaxed and content. Not since she had become his bodyguard. Not even before. 

When she started working with the Royal Family, Erik was fourteen and in secondary school in Stockholm. The young royal was not yet involved in public affairs of the Crown, but as the first in line to the throne he was already under a lot of public scrutiny. By the time he was headed to Hillerska, and his bodyguards with him, Malin and Joakim had already been with him for two years, they had gotten to know every aspect of the young future king’s life and personality. But they had yet to see his true self. Hillerska was the first time that she got to see what Erik was really like, away from home, away from the Palace. He was still Crown Prince Erik, but he was now on his own. 

Erik had always been quite level-headed, much more than Wilhelm had ever been, but being on his own as a teenager was an opportunity for him to find himself, find his own path. 

As Erik’s bodyguard, Malin also got to meet Wilhelm. She remembered first meeting him as a sweet and polite ten-year-old boy, painfully shy and guarded and anxious most of the time, around most people. But not around Erik. When he was with his big brother, he was smiling, self-assured and curious. Sure, they sometimes fought, like most siblings; Erik would playfully tease Wilhelm about one thing or another, and Wilhelm would tell on Erik. But they were still best friends. They trusted and comforted each other. 

They were also strikingly different and saw things from different points of view. But if anyone understood the hardships of growing up in the monarchy, it was them and only them.

So, if anyone understood what it was like for Wilhelm growing up, it was Erik. 

It was a terrible coincidence that, just when Wilhelm was starting to come out of his shell, the most important person in his life was suddenly far away. At Hillerska, Malin would often hear Erik talking with his younger brother, keeping in touch, comforting him, encouraging him. But it wasn’t the same. And so, whenever they returned to the palace for the holidays, Wilhelm was changed; he was becoming rebellious, withdrawn. The only time he seemed like his old self was when Erik was around. The only time he seemed happy. 

Much like his older brother, Wilhelm was trying to be his own person; he wanted to be himself, whatever that meant. But he wasn’t allowed; he was expected to fit a mold. And being far apart from the one person who brought out his authentic self was tough, like it was slowly sucking the life out of him. Even worse when he was forced to enroll at Hillerska, a place where he knew he wouldn’t fit in, no matter how much his older brother had loved it.

And then the unexpected had happened.

There were moments, after Erik’s death, when Malin actually feared for Wilhelm’s life too. That the pain and the burden would be too much. That he would retreat into his shell and never come back out. That he would never be able to find any happiness again. 

Except when he was with Simon. 

She and Joakim had been the only ones to know for a short while; not for certain, of course, but suspected the reason why the Crown Prince was suddenly smiling again, why he seemed to be coming out of his shell again. That afternoon by the lake, the dinner at the Erikssons… moments when Malin wondered if anyone else could see it, that there was more than friendship between the two boys, that there was a deeper connection. 

But it was brief. After that, things had taken a turn for the worst. And suddenly Wilhelm was not himself anymore, again.

It was too hard for him, being the crown prince. It had been hard for Erik, too, she knew that much. And yet Erik never had to go through the things that Wilhelm endured; not the death of a brother, not being outed, not having an intimate moment spread all over social media, not being heartbroken and having to pretend that everything was fine, and not being dragged away from the person he loved.

Malin stared sadly at the dashboard. It was hard to watch, to see him becoming so broken, and being told that he shouldn’t complain. Being told that he should move on.

And yet he overcame. Even when his brother was not around anymore to encourage him, to comfort him, he kept going. Malin marveled at the change in him. Who would have thought that that same boy, that shy, anxious, rebellious boy, would come out on national television. That he would find again a reason to find himself, find his own path. 

Now there was someone else to help him, someone to comfort him, and for him to comfort back.

He seemed lighter every day, like when Erik would come back home from Hillerska, and the young boy would, at least temporarily, come out of his shell. 

Malin almost flinched when a noise brought her out of her thoughts. Joakim tapped on the window and pointed at his watch. She turned off the engine. It was time to go inside. 

“Wilhelm, we’re here,” she said. This time, Wilhelm woke up quicker. He looked out and smiled. 

“Wake up, Simon,” he said gently, caressing Simon’s cheek with his thumb. It took a few attempts, Simon’s brow furrowed and small groans coming from his throat, but finally the boy opened his eyes and yawned. 

Joakim opened the door for them. The boys got out. Simon was not leaning heavily on Wilhelm, but holding his hand, smiling sleepily as they walked up to the front door. Linda had been peeking out the window, waiting for them, and flung the door open, a broad and bright smile on her face. She hugged them both in turn and pulled them inside. Malin followed them in, carrying the bags, and closed the door. 

“I made arepas last night, I’m going to bake them now,” Linda announced in a low voice, which Malin assumed was because Simon’s sister, Sara, was probably still sleeping. “Wille, have you ever had arepas?”

Wilhelm shook his head, smiling excitedly.

“You’re gonna love them,” Simon said with a sleepy smile.

“I probably will, yeah.”

“They’re not ready, though. I figured you boys would want to go back to sleep for a while. I’ll wake you up when they’re done.”

Simon hugged his mother again, then grabbed Wilhelm’s hand and started dragging him toward his room. Wilhelm stopped him long enough to grab their bags from Malin, thanking her.

Malin watched as Linda went about the kitchen again. She looked like she had been awake for much longer, but she looked fresh and energized. She washed her hands but didn’t dry them; with still wet hands, she grabbed a handful of a white-ish dough from a large container and shaped it into a ball, then started flattening it by rotating and flipping it between her palms, until it looked like a thick disc. She placed the shaped dough onto a small baking tray, and started again with another ball of dough. 

“Coffee, Malin? I just made some. Have you and Joakim had arepas before? I’ve made enough for everyone,” she asked while she worked. 

“Thank you, Linda, but don’t worry about us, we’ve brought our own breakfast.”

“Oh, no, please, I insist. If you’ve never had arepas, I would love it if mine were the first ones you tried.” 

“In that case, I’d love to try them.” 

Linda nodded proudly and continued with her work. Malin cleared her throat and walked around carefully. 

“We’re sorry for the early start,” she started. “And for the slight delay. The boys forgot to set their alarm last night. And it seems that Simon is not a morning person.”

“Oh, yes, it’s always been a struggle for him to get up early,” Linda smiled with a fond roll of her eyes. “Not me, I have no issues. I get up early, even on my days off. So for me it’s no problem at all. As long as I get my boy for the weekend. Or should I say, my boys.”

The first tray, which only fit three arepas, went into the little oven. Linda explained that arepas were best baked first and then cooked on the stovetop for a crispy, golden finish; in the meantime she took a block of white cheese, the name of which Malin was amused to find basically translated to ‘hand cheese’, and grated the whole thing it onto a bowl, and then chopped tomatoes and onions and some herbs into another bowl and drizzled them olive oil and salt. Pretty soon the whole house smelled delicious, like cornbread.

Less than an hour later, Simon and Wilhelm emerged from Simon’s bedroom, wearing joggers and t-shirts, bed-headed and heavy-lidded, but smiling and humming with delight, lured out by the smell of breakfast. Linda fussed over them wandering into the kitchen, telling them to sit down at the table, that she would bring the food to them, but Wilhelm was adamant about at least letting him help with the coffee. He also insisted that Malin sit down with them, even if for just a few minutes. Everyone had an arepa stuffed with egg and cheese and chopped veggies, and coffee and orange juice. 

She never thought he’d ever see the Crown Prince like this, looking so relaxed and at home, in pajamas and crazy hair, making a face of absolute delight as he savored his arepa, asking what was in the glorious dough, and listening spell-bound as Linda told him all the different types of stuffing she would make for other occasions. 

The shell was gone. He didn’t need to hide anymore. 

He was his own person, and he seemed happier than ever.

And Malin agreed, the arepas were indeed glorious. Linda was already preparing one for her to take to Joakim. 

In the meantime, Malin caught a glimpse of Simon’s absolutely besotted face as he watched Wilhelm trying to repeat the names of other Venezuelan dishes that Linda was telling him about and promising to make for him in the future. 

She smiled. Perhaps things were finally taking a turn for the best. 

Notes:

This chapter actually came out of nowhere. I was planning to do a Malin chapter, but probably further down the line.
But then I watched the episode “Sunflowers” of Ted Lasso and it left me in shambles.
It was great, delightful and fun. But I was in tears when Colin said: “And she helped me realize that I have… an ache… for my two lives to be my only life… [ ] And I know we can’t fix every ache inside of us, but I should have to pretend that it’s not there.”
Like that word, ‘ache’, encapsulates so much, it’s so precise and so… brutal (I don’t know if that’s the right word, but it’s the only one that comes to mind). In YR, Wilhelm ached for Simon and had to pretend that he didn’t. He ached for someone to see him as more than his title, to accept him as he was, not as he was expected to be. He wanted to be able to be himself.
Also, I think that, as a fandom, most of us have agreed that Malin herself is queer, and maybe she understands a little what Wilhelm is going through, but she’s his bodyguard, she can’t get involved in his personal life. She merely watches, and she feels sadness and anger and joy over his situation. But all she can do is protect him from very real perils. Everything else he has to do for himself. It’s the harsh reality of being a personal protection officer.

Chapter 10: Back to reality

Summary:

Wilhelm is domestic, and Simon finds a fitting term of endearment.
Simon POV.

Notes:

Another short but sweet chapter. This was actually one of the first chapters I drafted. Just wanted a really cute domestic moment between them. I need moments like this for season 3…
Spoiler alert for the last season of Stranger Things (if you haven’t watched it already). I know it came out in May of last year, which is later than the timeline in which YR season 2 takes place, but I do not care.
Warning for slight smut and loads of fluffiness. Also warning for post-traumatic stress disorder (which will be further addressed in future chapters).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Are you… doing the dishes?” Simon asked.

Wilhelm stopped with his hand holding the soapy sponge on the rim of a glass, and looked at Simon like a child caught doing something naughty. “Yeah… was I not supposed to?”

Simon approached with a curious smile. Wilhelm stood in front of the kitchen sink, in socks, black joggers and Simon’s purple hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, hands covered in bubbles. He was almost done with the dirty dishes from dinner, which weren’t that many anyway, but Simon was determined to tease him. 

“Um, well, for starters, I didn’t know you knew how to.”

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. “How dare you, I’ve done dishes before. It’s literally washing them with soap and water and a sponge. How much more is needed beyond common sense?”

“Hmm, I don’t believe you,” Simon said with narrowed eyes and a smirk. Wilhelm shrugged. 

“Fine, don’t believe me. But why would I lie about that?”

“No reason,” Simon responded, still smirking. He got serious again. “So I go to the bathroom for a minute and then Ayub is texting me, and you sneak off to do the dishes.” 

“I’m just trying to be useful around here.” 

“See, here’s the thing: mum explicitly said that I was to not let you do anything around the house.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re our guest.”

“But she’s hosting me for the entire weekend, it’s the least I can do.”

“Yeah, but you’re… you.”

Wilhelm scoffed. “Don’t be like that.”

Simon had to laugh at the look on Wilhelm’s face. “Sorry, but those are her words, not mine. She didn’t want you to feel like you need to do things around here. Also, you bought the pizza for dinner.”

“But she made fika and breakfast and lunch. And she’s doing it again tomorrow,” Wilhelm protested.

“But she doesn’t mind.”

“But she works so hard. She literally left to go to work.”

“But I’m the one who does the dishes when she’s not home. Me or—”

Simon stopped, eyes wandering toward the door to Sara’s bedroom. He had literally not seen her all day. He only saw the back of her head when she went into the bathroom once during the morning. 

Simon and Wilhelm had spent most of the day with Linda, either talking or cooking or just hanging out, or in Simon’s bedroom playing video games. Not once had he come face to face with his sister. And Linda was either too happy about having Simon and Wilhelm in the house that she didn’t care, or she just didn’t have the energy to deal with the week-long ‘temper tantrum’ that Sara was performing, or she worried that Sara might cause a scene in front of Wilhelm. 

But that didn’t mean that Simon didn’t worry about his sister. She barely left her room. At least she was eating, but what was she doing all day in there?

Wilhelm gave the argument for settled and continued doing the dishes. He actually seemed to know what he was doing. Simon couldn’t help but smile.

“You look so… what’s the word… domestic doing that,” he said, leaning against the counter beside him. Wilhelm gave him a curious look and smile.

Domestic?”

“Yeah. Like you’re a regular person.”

“I am a regular person.”

“You are not, and you know it. I don’t mean it to make you feel weird, it’s just you’re…” he trailed off, not knowing what he wanted to say. It seemed unreal to him that Wilhelm was in his house, doing housework, and he would spend the night, and they would be together, and it was allowed. Regardless of the fact that Wilhelm was royalty, he was also the first boyfriend he ever had, and therefore the first time he had a boyfriend over, sleeping in his house, hanging out in the kitchen, and doing things like helping out. It made Simon inexplicably happy. He almost felt like pinching himself.

“What?” Wilhelm asked, catching Simon’s wistful expression.

“Nothing, just… I’m trying to process all of this… This is not a regular situation.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know what I mean. You being here…”

Wilhelm cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Absolutely not,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I didn’t say that I didn’t like it. It just seems… surreal.”

Wilhelm smiled, and finished with the last of the cutlery. “Is this okay? Have I done a good enough job?” He asked, grinning and gesturing toward the dishes and pans and cutlery in the drying rack. 

“I’m impressed. And yet your efforts and dedication were all for nothing, because I’m gonna tell mum that I did the dishes, there’s no way she’s finding out that I let you do the thing that she explicitly told me not to let you do.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s just dishes,” Wilhelm exclaimed, looking comically indignant. 

Before he continued to complain, Simon threw his arms around Wilhelm’s neck and kissed him. “Thank you for doing that, it was very sweet. Mum will never know but I will know.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Wilhelm responded, shaking his head and smiling, before leaning down to kiss Simon. 

It was silly, to feel such a thrill at kissing his boyfriend in his kitchen. It was the same thrill he felt when Wilhelm showed up at his house last year, to ‘hang out’. It seemed silly to get so excited about it, but the fact that Wilhelm could feel comfortable and at home in his house was everything.  

After the week they had, between the very real threat of August and finding out of Sara’s betrayal, and the aftermath of the speech, including Wilhelm being dragged away to Stockholm and dealing with the paparazzi, and meeting with the Royal Court and putting up with the gossip and looks from everyone at school, a weekend at home with his mum and his boyfriend sounded idyllic. 

They had barely had a moment to themselves, to settle in as roommates, to adjust to their new routines. This had been the longest week in Simon’s life since the video leak, and he just wanted to be home and do nothing. 

Granted, there were still all those issues looming in the back of his mind, especially the paparazzi presence outside, because someone had the thought that Simon would probably go back home for the weekend, and that maybe the Crown Prince would tag along, and once someone came by to check and saw the car and the security detail posted outside the house, every other media outlet showed up, and now at least two dozen photographers just loitered outside, waiting, cameras at the ready. (Was there nothing else more interesting happening in the country? At least there fewer of them.)

Simon didn’t look outside anymore, because every time he did he felt a bit nauseated, like he had that day when they followed him home. It was fine, as long as they stayed inside. 

The problem with that, something that only occurred to Simon when his mum announced that she would have to cover someone’s shift that evening for a few hours, was what they could do to keep entertained if they were on lockdown. 

“I know this is a long stretch, because we have strict instructions to stay at home, but… if you wanted to go out, do you think we could sneak out?” Simon asked, glancing toward the door. Wilhelm shook his head. 

“I don’t think so. It’s not only that we’d have to evade Danielle and Kurt, it’s the photographers as well. And I feel like I’ve made a lot of progress with my mum and the Royal Court, so I would probably be an idiot to go and do the one thing that they asked me not to do. At least on my very first weekend here.”

Danielle and Kurt were Malin and Joakim’s replacements for the evening and night; they were the woman and one of the men who escorted Simon to school, so at least they were familiar faces. Simon always wondered how Malin and Joakim and bodyguards in general managed to do their job and not get tired or cold, but at least he no longer to worry if they slept at all.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Simon said. “What about going out with the bodyguards?”

“Unfortunately they have strict orders not to drive us anywhere except back to Hillerska, unless there’s an emergency, of course.”

Simon gave a little nod. “Hmm, thought so.”

Wilhelm tilted his head. “Did you want to go out?”

“Not really, but…” 

He didn’t want to say what he was thinking for real. Again he worried that Wilhelm might want to do something more exciting and Simon was holding him back. He worried that his life was too boring and simple for someone like Wilhelm. 

“Maybe you can go out, if you want,” Wilhelm offered tentatively. “I mean, they specifically said that I’m the one who absolutely cannot be seen. But you’re in your house, you can be seen coming in and out of it. Except that maybe they would follow you.” He gestured with his head to the outside, meaning the photographers.

“Yeah, but of course I’m not going to leave you here alone.”

“I don’t mind. Sure, it would be a bit weird to be here without you, but… I mean, you can do whatever you want, you don’t have to babysit me.”

Simon chuckled. “I’m not babysitting you, you’re my guest.” 

“But you should be able to go out if you want, or do whatever you want in the comfort of your own home,” Wilhelm said. “What do you usually do on weekends?” 

Simon shrugged. “Not much, just hang out with Rosh and Ayub, probably. We hang out at each other’s houses, play video games, watch movies. Rosh has a lot of football matches coming up, we usually go watch her. Go for pizza, to the arcade, stuff like that.”

“Then go do that. Go hang out with your friends.”

“We’re already seeing them tomorrow. If they are allowed.”

“They will be. They’re just figuring out logistics and being annoyingly cautious,” Wilhelm said with a roll of his eyes. By ‘they’, he was of course referring to the Royal Court.

“Well, then yeah, we’re already hanging out with them tomorrow so…”

“But don’t want to hang out with them on your own? Talk about stuff, maybe?” 

“Maybe some other time. But I’m happy that I get to see them tomorrow, and that you get to hang out with them too.”

Wilhelm nodded, biting his lip thoughtfully.

“And they… they’re cool with us? With me?” He asked in a small voice. Simon smiled. 

“Of course they are. They know the whole story.”

That didn’t seem to reassure Wilhelm as he expected. Perhaps it was one thing for his friends to know about their fallout and reconciliation, but another completely different thing for his friends to be aware of the goriest and most sensitive details about the story, like the issue with the drugs. 

“I mean, they know that I love you and that I’ve forgiven you, and that we’re okay now,” he clarified. Wilhelm nodded again.

“Ok.”

“But we can talk about you some other time,” Simon said. Wilhelm raised his eyebrows.

“Oh can you? Do you talk about me a lot with them?” 

“Just when I need to complain about my boyfriend. So yeah, all the time,” Simon teased. “Next weekend too, probably.” 

“Oh what a coincidence, That’s when I have scheduled time with my friend Felice to complain about my boyfriend,” Wilhelm joked.

Simon shoved his shoulder playfully. “Anyway, I’m not going out, of course, not on our first weekend here together. I’m just worried that there’s not much to do around here…”

“So? I wouldn’t mind getting bored.,” Wilhelm said with a shrug. 

“You don’t?”

“Not at all. This week has been ‘exciting’ enough to last me for a lifetime. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had a boring, relaxed weekend during which I didn’t have to worry about anything?”

“I get it. Still… I was just thinking maybe next weekend we find something to do. And figure out the logistics to make it happen.”

“Sure, if you really want. But I really, honestly don’t care what we do, or if we get bored… as long as I’m with you. I’ll do anything you want to do.” 

“No, come on, it’s whatever we both want.”

“But I already told you. I just want to be with you. Anything else is whatever you want.”

“I want to be with you too, but… I just want to make sure that you don’t get bored.”

“Again, I don’t care about being bored, as long as it’s with you.”

“You are soooo cheesy.”

“Why is that cheesy? I’m being honest. I’d rather be bored out of my mind with you, than be anywhere else attempting to have fun without you.”

Simon pulled him into another kiss, wrapping his arms around him. He almost believed him, because a part of him couldn’t believe that someone would want to be with him so badly. 

Wilhelm tugged at his waist and Simon leaned up against him, hugging him, burrowing his face in Wilhelm’s shoulder. The sight of Wilhelm wearing his favorite hoodie and looking so cozy made him want to stay and get bored and just cuddle with him all weekend. It also made him want to rip the hoodie off of him.   

“Do you… want to have sex?” he whispered, fingers already tugging at the bottom hem of the hoodie. He thought he caught Wilhelm blush for a moment. 

“Always. But what if your mum comes back? Or if Kurt or Danielle come in looking for us? Or even Sara?”

Simon refrained from scoffing at the suggestion that Sara would have the gall to come looking for him, especially if Wilhelm was there. The other two were still a possibility, though. 

“I can… lock the door. I have a door now,” Simon suggested. 

“I noticed,” Wilhelm said with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

“Also, I can put on a video game in the background, so no one can hear.”

“Ah, the old trick of the video game in the background.”

“Worked well last time. Not that no one knows what we’re probably doing, but at least no one can hear us. Or see us.”

That was a very important part of it too. That morning, after they settled in, Simon had wanted to double check with Malin and Kurt if anyone could see into his room from outside; it meant keeping the curtains closed and the room dark, but neither him or Wilhelm minded. It helped calm Simon down about the fact that the house was surrounded once more. 

Wilhelm seemed to think about it, glancing around as if checking if anyone was nearby.

“Ok, hurry up before I change my mind,” he finally said. 

Change your mind?”

“I’m worried about Linda coming back. We can’t get caught having sex in your room, in her house, on the very first day that I’m invited to stay. I would die of embarrassment.”

“Don’t worry, my mum is very respectful of my privacy. She’d never just barge in.”

“What if she barges in on purpose, to stop the sex from happening?”

“Hmm, good point. She is a Latina mum, after all…”

Wilhelm let himself be led into Simon’s room. Door locked and video game at top volume on the computer, Simon helped Wilhelm take off all his clothes and pushed him down onto the bed, shedding his own clothes as he climbed on top his boyfriend, kissing each other all over. 

Simon was thrilled to have Wilhelm in his bed again. Not like that morning when they flopped down to catch a bit of extra sleep (which he hadn’t done with Wilhelm before either, not in his bed, but had been too sleepy to actually be aware of the magnitude of it), but naked and sweaty and turned on. Simon knew they had to be quick, just in case, but he relished the feel of Wilhelm’s body weight on him. He smiled the entire time, pulling Wilhelm’s body flush against him, legs wrapped around his hips, hands cupping his ass, as Wilhelm quickly and nervously kissed and fucked him silly, grinding him into the mattress. 

Despite the measures and precautions, they still felt exposed, knowing that there were dozens of photographers lurking outside. Simon still managed to lose himself in the pleasure, unconcerned about the volume of the noises coming out of him, reassuring himself and Wilhelm that no one could hear or see them. 

“It will get better, probably, but I understand,” he said, pushing Wilhelm’s hair out of his forehead, as they lay next to each other, tired and elated, the video game still playing loudly in the computer. “I get a bit nervous too.”

“I think that, despite having no privacy back at Forest Ridge either, and despite the photographers surrounding your house, I’m definitely more scared that your mum will catch us,” Wilhelm admitted. Simon chuckled.

“Why? What do you think she’s gonna do?”

“Nothing, really, but I’d hate to not be able to look her in the eye for the rest of my life,” Wilhelm said, blushing at the mere thought. “And well, I… I guess I’m always going to feel embarrassed… of being caught on video.”

Simon’s face fell. 

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” He asked, trying to catch Wilhelm’s eye, but he was half-hiding his face in Simon’s neck. 

“I mean… I know it’s all August’s fault, but… in a way, I can’t help but feel like it might have been a little bit my fault too. That there might have been something that I could have done to… prevent it. And I feel a bit guilty that you got involved, that you got the worst part of it.”

“Wilhelm, please don’t. You know it wasn’t your fault,” Simon said, stroking Wilhelm’s hair. But he knew what he meant, because he felt that way too. That maybe they could have been more careful, that they might have avoided it somehow. 

There was no use thinking about that anymore. 

Wilhelm gave a little shrug. “I know it’s not, and I obviously can’t change what happened. But, I mean… it was our first time… I guess I’m always going to be a little sad about it.”

“Yeah… me too,” Simon said, relieved that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. He felt a bit embarrassed about having accused Wilhelm of not feeling the same consequences as he did; of course it hadn’t been the same for both, but he hadn’t realized how much it had truly affected Wilhelm. Not just the video itself, but being forced to lie about and having to pretend that he was okay.

He wondered if Wilhelm had talked about it with Boris. He wondered if he should go see Boris himself, and talk about it too. 

“I hate to break it to you, but I just realized we do have an audience here,” he said, pointing toward the fish tank, hoping to lighten the mood. Wilhelm gasped theatrically.

“Oh shit, we’re gonna have to make tiny eye masks for Olle, Oski and Felle,” he said.

“And Wille.”

“No! Not Wille! His name is not Wille!” 

“Yes, it is!” 

Wilhelm started tickling Simon, making him laugh and squirm; Simon counterattacked, delighted to find that Wilhelm was even more ticklish than him. They kept shushing each other, their laughter and squeals almost as loud as the video game. Simon ended up on top, pinning a breathless and red-faced Wilhelm to the bed, and they were both smiling so big that their faces hurt. 

He leaned down to kiss him, hands tangling in his hair as Wilhelm’s arms circled his waist and pulled him flush against him. Simon had to stop himself, knowing that a round two was not a safe bet. It was getting late and Linda might come back at any moment. 

“Okay, well, just in case your greatest fear comes true and my mum comes back unexpectedly, what if we just watch movies or a show for the rest of the night?” He said, combing Wilhelm’s hair with his fingers.

“That sounds incredible,” Wilhelm said with a nod and a grin. Simon chuckled.

“You’re so stupid.”

“I’m stupid for wanting to spend time with you?”

“Nah, I want to be with you too.”

With a reluctant sigh, Simon pried himself off and scooted to sit on the edge of the bed, picking up his pants from the floor.

“I mean, this was definitely not boring at all. Were you bored?” Wilhelm said, lying in bed watching as Simon got dressed. Simon smiled back.

“Not at all,” he replied, switching off the video game, and the room became deafeningly quiet. He finished putting on his clothes and threw Wilhelm’s clothes at him with a chuckle. But he didn’t really want him to get dressed, he wished they could stay like that, naked in bed forever, just the two of them.  

He had been trapped in his house a few days before, surrounded by around fifty photographers, no bodyguards to protect him, and with Wilhelm in another city, trapped in the palace, both wondering if they would see each other again, wishing that they could at least be trapped together. And now they were, and it was definitely better.

“Come on, get dressed. I think there’s popcorn or crisps,” Simon said, tugging at Wilhelm’s arm, who reluctantly got up and put on his clothes and followed him out of the room. 

On the screen, Max Mayfield was running away from Vecna to the tune of Kate Bush’s ‘Running Up That Hill (Deal With God)’, toward the hole in the middle of the red sky, through which she could see her friends shouting and screaming at the Max levitating above the graveyard, yelling at her to snap out of it, to come back. The music swelled as Max ran with all her might, dodging falling debris, trying to escape the red nightmare that Vecna had trapped her in, trying to get back to reality…

Simon gasped when the screen cut to black and suddenly the real Max opened her eyes and fell out of the sky, Lucas and Dustin and Steve rushing forward to catch her as she hit the ground, and they hugged, breathing raggedly with relief. 

The credits started to roll.

“That was intense,” Simon whispered as the next episode started playing. He looked down at Wilhelm fitted against him.

Wilhelm was fast asleep. 

They had been watching the fourth season of Stranger Things on Wilhelm’s Netflix account. They stretched out on the couch, Wilhelm as the little spoon, curled up in Simon’s arms, with his back against Simon’s chest, his head resting on a cushion. Simon had no idea how long Wilhelm had been asleep, but judging from how his breath had slowed and how relaxed he looked, he guessed at least halfway through the episode. 

Simon stared down at his face. He tried to adjust his position without waking him up. Wilhelm stirred slightly, rolling over and facing Simon, an arm wrapping around his waist, legs tangling. Simon cradled him in his arms, feeling his chest swell with love and comfort. He would not wish to be anywhere else right now.

“Simon.”

Simon woke up, his eyes bleary. Above him, Linda was rubbing his shoulder. 

“Mi amor, váyanse al cuarto, no pueden dormir en el sofá toda la noche. Vayan a la cama los dos,” (“My love, go to your room, you can’t sleep in the couch all night. Go to bed both of you.”), she said. She must have just arrived, still in her scrubs and name tag. 

Simon was half-processing what his mother was saying. He had fallen asleep, at least long enough that the TV screen was now black, reading ‘Are you still watching?’ and the Yes and No button.

He then looked down at Wilhelm, who was completely nestled into him, face half-buried in his chest, still asleep.

“Sí, ya voy, ya vamos,” (“Yeah, I’m going, we’re going”), Simon answered, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried to sit up, but Wilhelm was too wrapped up around him. 

“¿Y todo bien? Qué pena que me tuve que ir, sabía que Sabrina probablemente iba a necesitar que le cubriera un rato, tiene todo un tema con el ex marido y el hijo pequeño,” (“And was everything okay? So sorry that I had to leave, I knew that Sabrina would need me to cover for her for a while, she has a whole issue with her ex husband and her youngest son”), Linda explained quietly, as she walked around straightening things in the living room. 

“No te preocupes, todo bien,” (“Don’t worry, everything was fine”), Simon said in a small, sleepy voice. 

“¿Y Sara ha salido de su cueva en algún momento? ¿O tú fregaste los platos?” (“And has Sara come out of her cave at all? Or did you do the dishes?”), asked Linda, picking up the bowl of crisps that he and Wilhelm snacked on whilst watching the show. 

Simon glanced down at Wilhelm and smiled. “En verdad fue Wille quien los fregó.” (“Actually, it was Wille who did them.”)

“Simon, te dije que no lo dejaras hacer nada.” (“Simon, I told you not to let him do anything.”)

“Él quería ayudar.” (“He wanted to help.”)

He watched his mother shaking her head but also trying to hide a small smile. She gestured for them to go to bed again, and walked  out of the living room. As soon as she was out, Simon leaned down to kiss Wilhelm on the forehead and speak softly to him. 

“Wille,” he whispered, but got no reaction. He repeated a bit louder, and still nothing. 

“Mi amor, we have to get up, let’s go to bed,” he whispered softly, blushing a bit. He had never called Wilhelm ‘mi amor’ or ‘älskling’ or any other term of endearment, but he could get used to it very quickly. 

Wilhelm sighed in his sleep, nuzzling Simon’s shoulder. Simon felt bad about waking him up. This had been a very eventful and tense week, and they were both exhausted and tense and worn.

“Come on, up,” he said, a little louder. Wilhelm groaned and rolled out of Simon’s embrace, nearly falling off the couch. He stood up on wobbly legs, eyes still closed, and this time it was Simon’s turn to lead him safely around.

They stood in the bathroom brushing their teeth, smiling sleepily at each other on the mirror. Simon watched him, amused.

“Hey, what would be your back to reality song?” he asked. Wilhelm opened his eyes and looked confused. 

“Hmm?” 

“You know, the song that brings you back to reality, when Vecna gets you,” Simon explained, not knowing what else to call it. What did they call it in the show? 

Wilhelm shook his head, still confused. 

“Oh, right, you fell asleep,” Simon said, and proceeded to explain how in the episode, Nancy and Robin had found out that if a person listened to a song that they liked, Vecna couldn’t kill them because they were tethered to reality, and therefore able to escape from the nightmare, and how when Lucas, Dustin and Steve realized that Vecna had gotten Max, they managed to put the headphones on her and play her favorite song by Kate Bush before she started floating. Wilhelm listened as they finished brushing their teeth, changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed.

“And that’s how Max was able to escape, because she could hear the song and she remembered all the good things in her life, like her friends and Lucas, and she managed to get out and survive,” Simon finished, laying down on his side as Wilhelm wrapped himself around him again, hooking their ankles together. 

“I see, I fell asleep way before that part,” Wilhelm mumbled, his voice soft and airy, his head on Simon’s shoulder. Simon pushed the hair out of his face and behind his ear gently. 

“We’ll have to watch that episode again, you have to watch that scene, it’s intense, sorry if I just spoiled it,” Simon muttered.

“Hmm, no worries,” Wilhelm sighed.

“I missed part of the next episode as well, because I fell asleep too,” Simon added, feeling very sleepy too, but he could have watched Wilhelm’s sleeping face forever. 

“Mmhmm,” Wilhelm exhaled. Simon continued to watch him, now caressing the side of his face just because. 

“You never told me which would be your song,” he asked again, to check if Wilhelm was really asleep. “Wille?”

There was no response. 

“Mi amor?” Simon said in the softest whisper. 

“Hmm?” Wille’s eyes opened slowly and Simon smiled. He liked that calling him ‘my love’ in Spanish seemed to get an automatic reaction.

“What would be your song?” Simon whispered.

“Hmm… you…”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “Me? I’m not a song.”

Wilhelm lifted his face slightly, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Mmm, any song that you sing… The song you wrote for me… or the song that you sang when I first saw you, or just… anything you sing.” He sighed deeply. “Just hearing your voice… your voice would bring me back to reality…”

Simon’s face split into the biggest smile. He closed his eyes and turned his head to kiss Wilhelm’s lips lightly. 

They were in his room, in his bed, together, and it was allowed, and he felt safe. 

“Te amo,” he whispered. Wilhelm’s eyes fluttered open for a second, and the smallest sleepiest smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he fell back into a deep sleep like that. Simon thought he heard him whisper ‘I love you too’ before he too fell into a deep slumber.

Notes:

In honor of Simon’s song beating the ‘Running up that hill’ moment from Stranger Things in the MTV Movie and TV awards polls. (just kidding, I actually wrote this chapter months ago, but how fitting that it coincided.) (Also Simon’s Song is the true winner in my heart, I can’t believe we almost got them to make a video speech, how amazing would that have been.)
I just kept thinking that it was Simon’s voice that cut through the turmoil that Wilhelm was feeling when he was forced to enroll in Hillerska.
Again, I know the season of Stranger Things came out last year during May, and this technically takes place before, but I don’t care. YR has been meta before by having characters watch Netflix, right? I can’t remember if the Erikssons have a Netflix account, so just in case I used Wille’s, because of course he now watches Netflix at the Erikssons. (DISCLAIMER: I do not work for Netflix, nor do I want to actually promote it. Just so happens that Stranger Things is in there…)
To be fair, in my mind the reason why Linda doesn’t want Wille doing housework has less to do with the fact that he’s a prince and more to do with the fact that he’s a boy who doesn’t do housework so he’s probably terrible at it. Were the dishes done okay? Or did she have to do them again? Did Wille remember to wash the paila de arroz (rice pot) properly? Tune in next time to find out.

Chapter 11: Niño lindo (beautiful boy)

Summary:

Linda feels like things keep happening and she can’t keep up. She worries if things will ever be okay.
Linda POV.

Notes:

This chapter was supposed to be out in time for Mother’s day, but ugh, work and life… But here it is finally. It did become much longer than I expected.
Since this is Linda and Simon talking a lot, of course a lot of it is in Spanish. As in previous chapters, I put the translation in English between parentheses. I should have been doing this the whole time, but in other chapters I just relied on Spanglish to make it clear what Linda was saying, or for non-Spanish-speaking readers to Google Translate what is being said. But these longer conversations in full Spanish definitely deserve a full translation. Especially since there might be some colloquial terms or expressions that maybe Google would translate weird.
(By the way, the translation software that I recommend much more than Google Translate is DeepL. It’s a subscription-based AI translation software, but it can be used to translate up to 500 words, I think, without subscribing, and it’s really good, it does a better job of translating context and understanding regional nuances. I use it mostly for work, to make things quicker, but so far it’s excellent Not perfect, but much better than Google. It’s the only AI software I use, for convenience rather than relying wholly on it.)
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, and lots of “subtitles”.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Linda couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so exhausted. 

It was almost eight in the morning on Sunday, and she was still in bed. She seldom felt tempted to sleep in or just lay in bed, since she was an early riser and liked to busy herself around the house even on her days off. 

But the house was quiet, and she was still not hungry. So she lay there staring at the ceiling. 

She needed it, and she deserved it. Yesterday should have been her day off; her coworker Sabrina had graciously switched with her, but had an unfortunate family issue and needed to be covered for a few hours. Sabrina was apologetic enough about inconveniencing Linda, knowing how important it was for her to be home this weekend, but Linda understood. Family first, always. She knew exactly what Sabrina was going through. 

Of course, now she was tired, but it wasn’t just because of having to work last night. It was everything else too. The past few months had been an unexpected challenge.

Ever since her children enrolled in Hillerska, Linda felt a little overwhelmed. All the time. It had been such a thrilling prospect that they both got spots at the most prestigious school in the area; Simon was most excited about being in the choir, whilst Sara was ecstatic about getting to work with horses, and Linda thought about all the opportunities that being in that school could provide for their future, opportunities that they wouldn’t get anywhere else. 

Then Sara started acting different, being more demanding, more uptight. And Linda tried to understand; yes, good quality clothes are better and last longer, yes, good manners at home are as essential as good manners in public, yes, being involved in the school activities is important. All those things that made her feel… inadequate.

On the other hand, the Crown Prince of Sweden was suddenly in her house having dinner and playing video games with Simon. And Linda was delighted, albeit a little surprised that her son, who constantly voiced hostile opinions about the monarchy, would have befriended the newly appointed heir to the throne and even have him over in their little, decidedly unfancy house; but of course Simon was kind and sweet enough to extend such an invitation to a grieving friend, and of course Wilhelm turned out to be much more down-to-earth than she expected. 

But then came St Lucia night, and after beaming with pride at seeing Sara as Lucia and hearing Simon’s teachers praise his talent, the evening turned sour when Micke showed up, out of seemingly nowhere. How could Linda have been prepared for that? Determined to not cause a scene, she had blinked tears away as he handed her a bouquet of flowers and walked away. She had honestly thought that day couldn’t have gotten any worse. 

And she had been so wrong, so very wrong. 

It was not merely the fact that her son and the prince had been together, as in a couple, this whole time, but the fact that she found out along with the rest of the world, in the worst, most invasive way. 

Blindsided. That was the word. That was how she felt. That day and every day since. 

Nothing would have prepared her for anything that happened as a result. 

Her phone trilled with notifications. Linda groaned to herself. It was either the first of many daily texts from Minou, or one of the many texts from someone in her family.

She reached for the phone on the bedside table, glanced at the screen and sighed. Family again. She usually loved talking to her family, but she had been fielding questions from relatives as the news of the events in Sweden reached other latitudes at different moments and with varying levels of prominence. A lot of her family migrated from Venezuela at different points in time, as the sociopolitical crisis worsened, and ended up scattered all around the world; Latin America, the United States and Puerto Rico, Spain, Portugal, Germany, and even one young cousin studying in Japan. And as the news got to them, either through local or international news outlets or through social media, those family members called or texted her, shocked and concerned, demonstrating how the news had truly spread everywhere.

“Linda, que acabo de ver en las noticias que tu hijo está de novio con el príncipe de Suecia. ¿Eso es verdad?” (“Linda, I just saw in the news that your son is the boyfriend of the prince of Sweden. Is this true?”), asked one of her youngest aunts, who lived in Panama City, Panama. 

“Prima, ¿esto es de verdad? ¿Simon y el príncipe de Suecia están de novios en serio? ¿O sea que sí era él en el video?” (“Cousin, is this true? Simon and the prince of Sweden are boyfriends for real? So it was him in that video?”), asked a cousin who had lived for years in Madrid, Spain.

“Linda, ¿Simon y el príncipe de Suecia de verdad son pareja? Es que salió en las redes que el príncipe dijo que sí era él el del video.” (“Linda, are Simon and the prince of Sweden really a couple? It appeared in social media that the prince said that it was really him in the video.”), asked another cousin in Frankfurt, Germany.

“Linda, estoy viendo fotos de paparazzi que tomaron de Simon afuera de tu casa. No me digas que lo andan persiguiendo.” (“Linda, I’m seeing pictures taken by paparazzi of Simon just outside your house. Don’t tell me that they’re chasing him around.”), asked an uncle in Cordoba, Argentina. 

“¿Cómo está Simon? ¿No se puede hacer nada al respecto? Él todavía es un chico. Debería darles vergüenza, andar acosando a un menor de edad de esa forma.” (“How is Simon? Can’t anything be done about it? He is still a boy. They should be ashamed of themselves for harassing a minor in that way.”), asked another aunt in Bayamon, Puerto Rico. 

“Pero y, ¿Simon está bien? ¿Ustedes están bien?” (“But is Simon okay? Are you okay?”), asked an aunt in Medellin, Colombia. 

Her answer every time was yes. Yes, Simon and Wilhelm were dating, and yes, they were okay, everything was okay. 

But everything was not really okay. She wasn’t, at least… 

She felt like she didn’t have any time at all to think, to process anything, and things just kept… happening. 

One moment, Simon was heartbroken and Sara was leaving home, the next there were photographers surrounding the house, Sara moved back, and the Royal Court was calling her to meet with her and Simon to talk about his budding relationship with the Crown Prince and everything that it implicated. 

On top of that, her children were keeping things from her, and refusing to talk to each other. 

She was overwhelmed, unable to keep up. There was no choice but to go with the flow. 

For her, that meant following the Royal Court’s lead, which was nerve-wrecking enough. She wondered if she would ever get used to it. 

It had taken over half an hour yesterday just to get last-minute clearance from the Royal Court to leave her own house to go to work for a while, which made her late. But what else could she do?

To be fair, it wasn’t that she actually had to “get clearance” from the Royal Court, just notify them. However, notifying them required follow-up and confirmation from different levels of hierarchy within the Royal Court, plus alerting security, reviewing contingency plans and establishing points of contact, and so much more. After all, she wasn’t just popping off to the office for a bit and leaving her kids alone for a while, she was also leaving the heir to the throne of Sweden in a strange home unsupervised.  

So it wasn’t that she let the Royal Court tell her what to do, it was that she didn’t know what to do, and they obviously did, so in her opinion it was best to listen to them and hope that it worked out.

Simon would disagree. 

She thought about the way that Simon had put his foot down multiple times during the lengthy discussion with Minou and the lawyer, Jörgen. Regardless of whether she agreed with her son or not, Linda mostly kept quiet and let him take the lead, whilst she listened and wrote everything down (although she now wished she used her phone recorder, her note-taking skills left something to be desired). 

This was mostly about him, after all, so it was best to let him decide. She trusted him to speak up for himself. 

Now she worried that maybe she should have spoken up more, for herself and for him. She should have been more proactive, if only to show him that she was on his side, supporting him.

She just didn’t know how. 

And it scared her. 

Simon seemed confident and self-assured, but she knew that he was scared too. He, however, refused to let it show.

He had always been the one to comfort her, even when he was little, and he was sad or hurt or terrified. He put on a brave face and told her he was okay, just so that she wouldn’t worry so much about him. 

Like when he ran across the playground and tripped over his own feet and skinned both knees and elbows and smacked his face on the grass, and she fussed over him, Simon calmed her down and told her that he was fine, that he wasn’t hurting; he said these things between hiccups, with tears in his big dark eyes, bottom lip quivering.

“Mami, no te preocupes, que yo estoy bien.” (“Mummy, don’t worry, because I’m okay.”)

“Yo sé que estás bien, mi niño lindo, porque tú eres muy fuerte.” (“I know you’re okay, my beautiful boy, because you’re very strong.”)

He said it when he was eleven, and he was rushed to A&E in the middle of class with appendicitis, and she took off in the middle of her shift and had a meltdown in the middle of the waiting room, because Simon had complained in the morning of pain in his belly, but as soon as Linda became worried he had put on a brave smile and said he was okay and that it would probably go away soon and left for school anyway, and she should have inquired further and checked if he had a fever. When he woke up from the anesthetics after the surgery, and saw Linda crying beside him, sighing with relief, he put on his brave smile and soothed her in a hoarse voice. 

“Mamá, no llores, estoy bien.” (“Mum, don’t cry, I’m okay.”)

“Yo sé, mi niño lindo, yo sé. Ya estás bien.” (“I know, my beautiful boy, I know. You’re okay now.”)

He always said these things, and she always let him think she believed him. He said it after seeing the article on Wilhelm’s interview denying the video. He said he’d be okay. And she agreed.

“Eres fuerte, Simon.” (“You are strong, Simon.”)

But he didn’t always have to be strong. He didn’t always have to comfort her. 

She was his mother, she was supposed to be the one comforting him.

When the situation with Micke was reaching a breaking point, and when Linda finally divorced him and she and the children moved away, Simon took on the role of caretaker, supporting and protecting his mother and sister, becoming the ‘man of the house’. 

It hadn’t been fair, to let him take on such a load, when he was still so young and all he should be focused on school and the things that he loved. But she had also been grateful, because she had no one else, no other family, no real friends to rely on. She felt alone. All she had were her children. 

She admired Simon. He was strong and independent, but also loved and protected his family. She loved that he was brave and confident and righteous and opinionated, but also kind and compassionate and loving and loyal. She loved that he could be soft and strong at the same time. She loved that he was always there for the people who needed him, to be strong for them or to comfort them.

But she wanted to be the one to be strong for him and comfort him. And she always thought that, if things ever got bad enough and he needed someone to be strong for him, that he would come to her, tell her. That he would let her comfort him.

She just didn’t know how.

During the meeting with Minou and Jörgen, Linda caught Simon and Wilhelm glancing at each other many times, silently checking with each other, their tense faces softening with each reassuring smile, and for a moment she lost track of what was being said.

Only a few days before, Linda had been under the impression that Simon was in a blossoming new relationship with Marcus…

What was she supposed to think? How was she supposed to react?

This boy, the Crown Prince, Wilhelm, who was sweet and friendly when she first met him on Parents Weekend, who was so polite when he came to her house for dinner, who was an angel during Lucia night… went on record to say that it wasn’t him on that video, lying to Simon and leaving him alone to deal with the fallout of having an intimate moment shared with the entire world, his face plastered on magazines and tabloids…  

This boy had broken Simon’s heart. 

But that was what he was. A boy. They both were. Young and naïve boys going through love and heartbreak for the first time.

And now they were back together. Despite the public scrutiny, the trauma. Despite everything.  

Linda wanted to trust Simon, she wanted to believe he knew what he was doing, that it was in his own best interest.

But how could she not feel protective, after everything they had been through? How could she not take the opportunity to do what she should have been doing all along? 

When the meeting ended, and Minou and the lawyer left, Wilhelm headed to Simon’s room to give them privacy, to talk things over. He graciously took the tray of tea and coffee back to the kitchen on his way. 

A minute went by before Linda went to check that he was gone, and that the Royal Court people were gone, and that photographers were still swarming outside, and that Sara had gotten back. 

Simon watched as she walked back into the living room and slumped against the backrest of the sofa, legs like jelly. Information swirled around her head, jumbled with feelings, unable to process all of it. 

“Mami, ¿estás bien?” (“Mum, are you alright?”), he asked, sitting next to her. Linda nodded, biting her lip. 

“Sí… eh… sí… todo bien.” (“Yes… uh… yes… everything alright.”)

Simon took a deep breath. “Yo pensé que tendríamos tiempo de hablar antes de que llegaran ellos. Sé que es bastante, y que tal vez sea abrumador, pero… ¿mamá?” (“I thought we would have time to talk before they arrived. I know it’s a lot, and that maybe it’s overwhelming, but… mum?”), he trailed off when he saw her face.

Linda’s eyes had filled with tears. She tried holding them back, tried calming down, but there was no use. 

“Mami, calma, por favor, no te pongas así.” (“Mum, calm down, please, don’t get like this”), Simon said soothingly, a hand on her shoulder.

“¿Y cómo quieres que me ponga?” (“And how else do you expect me to get?”), Linda blubbered, a trembling hand over her mouth. Simon’s hand on her shoulder squeezed lightly. 

“Háblame, ¿qué pasa?” (“Talk to me, what’s going on?”), he pleaded.

Linda shook her head, not because she didn’t want to talk, but because she didn’t know where to even start. Her breath hitched in her throat, and it took her a few tries before she could get words out.

“No sé, siento que han pasado tantas cosas, muy rápido, y siento que no tengo ni un momento para pensar. Desde que empezaron en esa escuela, siento que ha pasado de todo… cosas buenas, pero también cosas terribles… y siento que… que no estoy ahí para ustedes lo suficiente.” (“I don’t know… I feel like a lot has happened, very fast, and I feel like I don’t have a moment to think. Since you two started in that school, I feel like all sort of things have happened… good things, but also terrible things… and I feel like… like I’m not there for you enough.”)

“Mami, no…” (“Mum, no…”), Simon started, his own eyes welling up. But Linda continued before she could lose her nerve.

“Y Sara se ha estado comportando rara desde el principio, y todo empeoró cuando se mudó para ese lugar, y ahora regresa, y me pone contenta, pero sé que algo pasa y que no me quiere contar, y no sé por qué no me quiere contar… Y por mi trabajo no estoy tanto en casa con ustedes como quisiera, y cuando ella estaba allá entonces era peor aún, casi no la veía. Y ahora tú, mi niño lindo, te vas para allá, y no te voy a ver todo el tiempo.” (“And Sara has been acting strange since the beginning, and everything got worse when she moved to that place, and now she’s back, and I’m happy about it, but I know something happened and she won’t tell me, and I don’t know why she won’t tell me… And because of work I’m not at home as much as I would like, and when she was there it was even worse, I barely got to see her. And now you, my beautiful boy, you are going over there, and I won’t see you all the time.”)

She swallowed hard. “Y me da mucho pesar… saber que tú habías estado pasando por tantas cosas, más allá de lo que yo sabía. Porque yo sabía lo duro que había sido que publicaran ese video de ustedes, y que apareciera en todas partes… yo sabía que tú no te merecías eso… pero no sabía que estabas tan triste, no sabía que estabas pasando por tantas cosas… y… yo quisiera estar allí para ti, para apoyarte… pero… pero pensé que tenía que darte espacio, para que tú solo procesaras todo… y pensé que vendrías a mí si me necesitabas… pero no sé por qué no me hablaste de todo de lo que estabas pasando… y me preocupo, me preocupo un montón. Pero no sé qué hacer, entre el trabajo, todas las cosas… y a veces me siento muy sola…” (“And it makes me sad… to know that you were going through so many things, more than I knew. Because I knew how hard it had been to have that video of you be posted and appear everywhere… I knew that you didn’t deserve that… but I didn’t know that you were so sad, I didn’t know that you were going through so many things… and… I want to be able to be there for you, to support you… but… but I thought that I should give you space, so that you could process everything on your own… and I thought that you would come to me if you needed me… but I don’t know why you never talked to me about everything that you were going through… and I worry, I worry a lot. But I don’t know what to do, between work, all the things… and I feel very lonely sometimes…”)

She didn’t have a tissue, so she just wiped her face with the hem of her sweater. She felt terrible for dumping all of this on her son, but if she had kept it in any longer, she might have exploded. How could she ask Simon to be honest with her, to tell her when things were difficult, if she couldn’t express those things herself when she felt them? 

It would have been much better to dump this jumble of feelings on someone else, someone that was not her own son, who had enough to deal with on his own.

But admittedly, as soon as she said it, she felt better. As soon as she said everything, her jumble of thoughts didn’t feel so jumbled anymore.

Simon wiped his own eyes with his sleeve and took a deep breath. 

“Mamá, escucha… tú has hecho un montón por nosotros… sé que ha sido difícil, por culpa de papá. No ha sido justo para ninguno de nosotros… y yo sé que tú trabajas duro, para mantenernos, para que estemos bien… y por eso yo no quería recargarte con mis problemas… yo de verdad pensé que lo podía manejar solo, que podía superarlo solo…” (“Mum, listen… you have done a lot for us… I know it has been hard, because of dad. It hasn’t been fair for any of us… and I know that you work hard, to support us, so that we’re okay… and that’s why I didn’t want to overload you with my problems… I really thought that I could handle it on my own, that I could get over it by myself…”)

He sighed again. “Pero no fue así, yo… yo pensé que solo era cuestión de seguir con mi vida… pero…” (“But it didn’t happen, I… I thought that it was simply a matter of moving on with my life… but…”), he trailed off for a moment, blushing. “Pero lo amo… y quiero estar con él. Aunque sea un reto, aunque tenga que hacer ajustes…” (“But I love him… and I want to be with him. Even if it’s a challenge, even if I have to make adjustments…”)

He turned his body toward her. “Y no es que yo me quiera ir de casa… no quiero irme… quisiera poder estar aquí siempre, quisiera poder hacer que esos malditos fotógrafos se vayan, pero no puedo hacer nada al respecto… y no quiero que nos perturben la vida, no quiero que todo se complique por mi culpa… así que pienso que en este caso lo mejor es hacer lo que la Corte Real dice, y mudarme para allá. Si no fuera por eso, yo me quedo acá. No es por estar con Wille, yo puedo estar con él el resto del tiempo.” (“And it’s not that I want to leave home… I don’t want to leave… I wish I could be here always, I wish I could make those damn photographers go away, but I can’t do anything about that… and I don’t want them to disturb our lives, I don’t want things to be complicated because of me… so I think that in this case it’s best to do what the Royal Court says, and move there. If it weren’t for that, I would stay home. It’s not about being with Wille, I can be with him the rest of the time.”)

Linda nodded, pulling a hand on his arm.

“Pero mi amor, ¿de verdad te quieres mudar a esa escuela? ¿Y si pasa algo parecido de nuevo? ¿Si alguien… les graba y lo pone en las redes de nuevo?” (“But mi amor, do you really want to move to that school? What if something happens again? What if someone… records you and puts it online again?”)

Simon blushed. Linda was aware that, if she agreed to this, that her son would be having frequent sex with his boyfriend in the dorm room that they would be likely sharing. But that was truly the least of her concerns. 

“Yo sé que podrían pasar cosas… de nuevo. Pero podrían pasar donde sea que estemos…” (“I know that things could happen… again. But they could happen no matter where we are”), Simon said with a small shrug. 

She put a hand on his face and stroked his cheek. “Mi amor… tú sabes que yo te apoyo en lo que sea, tú sabes que yo solo quiero que seas feliz… y mientras tú estés seguro, yo estoy de acuerdo… solo quiero que lo pienses bien, y que estés absolutamente seguro…” (“Mi amor… you know that I will support you in anything, you know that I just want you to be happy… and as long as you are sure, I’m okay… I just want you to think very carefully on this, and for you to be absolutely sure…”)

He nodded. “No te preocupes, ya lo pensé bastante, y sí, estoy seguro… Y… y sé que lo amo, y él también me ama, y sé que estoy dispuesto a hacer lo que se necesita para estar con él, y confío en que Wille también está dispuesto a apoyarme.”(“Don’t worry, I though about it a lot, and yes, I’m sure… And… and I know I love him and he loves me, and I know that I’m willing to do what it takes to be with him, and I trust Wille to be willing to support me.”) He cleared his throat. “No es que voy a dejar que controlen mi vida, y no es que estoy firmando un contrato, pero por ahora… esto es lo que quiero.” (“It’s not like I’m going to let them control my life, and it’s not like I’m signing a contract, but for now… this is what I want.”)

Simon offered a reassuring smile. He was always reassuring her. 

“Y no es como que nunca me vas a ver. Aquí voy a estar todos los fines de semana…” (“I already thought about it… and it’s not like you’ll never see me. I’ll be here every weekend…”)

“Más te vale,” (“You better”), she said with a stern look. Simon chuckled, before he became serious again. 

“Quería hablarte de eso también… quisiera que Wille pueda venir conmigo los fines de semana. Bueno, primero tendríamos que ver cómo funciona eso, probablemente la Corte tenga algún protocolo o lo que sea. Imagino que, si él viene aquí, su equipo de seguridad estaría con él, así que no hay problema por esa parte. Pero… quería preguntarte primero si estabas de acuerdo, si no tienes problema con eso.” (“I wanted to talk to you about that too… I would like it if Wille could come with me on weekends. Well, first we would have to see how that would work, the Court probably has some protocol or whatever. I imagine that, if he comes here, his security team would be with him, so no problem there. But… I wanted to ask you first if you would agree, if you don’t have a problem with that.”)

Linda blanched. The Crown Prince, here, on weekends? In this little house? What could that be like? It was one thing when he came over, for dinner or to hang out. But for him to spend the night? This was the opposite of luxurious Hillerska and Forest Ridge house, and she didn’t have much to offer in terms of fancy meals or facilities. 

Wilhelm was clearly not a snob, he probably didn’t care about those things. But the Royal Court probably did. 

And to allow the Crown Prince, or any boy for that matter, to stay over, to sleep over… would that be irresponsible? Not to mention that the whole country, the whole world would know, every time that the fancy car would be in the driveway all night, that Malin and Joakim would be posted outside, photographers snapping any glimpse they got of the boys in the house, knowing that they were in there, being boyfriends, possibly being intimate, under her nose… 

She didn’t know what to do. She wanted Simon to be happy, but she needed to establish some boundaries.

“Déjame pensarlo.” (“Let me think about that.”)

Simon seemed a bit disappointed, but he nodded. “Okay.” 

Linda cleared her throat. “No es que no sea bienvenido. Pero tienes que entender que la gente lo va a ver de una forma. Ustedes aquí juntos, durmiendo juntos, siendo novios.” (“It’s not that he’s not welcome. But you have to understand that people will see it a certain way. You here together, sleeping together, being boyfriends.”)

Simon nodded again. “Sí, entiendo… pero… igual probablemente van a pensar eso de nosotros estando en Forest Ridge. Después de todo, es lo que… lo que vieron en el video…” (“Yeah, I understand… but… still they’ll probably that of us when we’re in Forest Ridge. After all, it’s what they… what they saw on the video…”)

“Sí, yo sé. Pero esta es mi casa, y no quiero que piensen que yo les estoy dando permiso de algo…” (“Yeah, I know. But this is my house, and I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m giving you permission for something…”) 

“Okay, entiendo. Pero no es como que tengas que preocuparte de nada. Digo, si estamos aquí en casa, Wille y yo, aquí no estaríamos solos.” (“Okay, I get it. But it’s not like you have to worry about anything. I mean, if we’re here, Wille and I, we wouldn’t be alone.”)

“Mira, si la mamá de él está de acuerdo, entonces yo también. Pero adivina qué, le vamos a preguntar.” (“Look, if his mum agrees, then I do too. But guess what, we are going to ask her.”)

Simon’s mouth fell open.

“Me estás jodiendo…” (“You’re shitting me…”)

“Simon, boca.” (“Simon, tongue.”)

”Perdón. Pero… mamá, ¿no es en serio, verdad? (“Sorry. But… mum, you’re not serious, are you?”)

“Claro que es en serio. Él es menor de edad, tiene que tener el permiso de sus padres.” (“Of course I’m serious. He’s a minor, he needs to get permission from his parents.”)

Simon’s face grew more and more horrified. “¿En serio tú quieres que le preguntemos directamente a la Reina si ella está de acuerdo con que el Príncipe de la Corona venga a dormir aquí los fines de semana…? ¿En serio…?” (“You want to ask the Queen if she’s okay with with the Crown Prince coming here to sleep over on weekends…? Really…?”)

“Ella es su mamá, ¿no? Si ella dice que sí, entonces yo también.” (“She’s his mum, isn’t she? If she says yes, then I do too.”)

The look on her son’s face, the utter disbelief mixed with resignation, made her burst out laughing. Simon looked at her like she had gone insane.

“¿De qué te ríes exactamente? ¿Era chiste?” (“What exactly are you laughing about? Were you joking?”)

“No, no era chiste, pero… pues… es gracioso…” (“No, I wasn’t joking, but… well… it’s funny…”) Linda was wheezing with laughter, struggling to speak. “El novio de mi hijo… es nada más y nada menos que el príncipe heredero… y le tiene que pedir permiso a su mamá, la Reina… para venir aquí… a hacer pijamadaAJAJAJAJAJ!” (“My son’s boyfriend… is none other than the heir prince… and he has to ask for permission from his mum, the queen… to come here… to have a sleepoverHAHAHAHAHAH!”)

Simon was suddenly laughing too. 

“Me alegro que te parezca gracioso.” (“I’m glad you find this funny.”) he said, amused at his mother. Linda managed to stop laughing so hard and sighed.

“Perdona, mi amor. No es por molestar. Han pasado cosas muy serias, pero creo que esto es… encantador en comparación… creo que después de todo lo malo que ha pasado, hay que verle el lado positivo a todo el asunto, y nos merecemos una buena carcajada.” (“Sorry, my love. I’m not poking fun. A lot of very serious things have happened, but I think this is… charming in comparison… I think that after everything bad that has happened, we have to see the positive side to the whole thing, and we deserve a good laugh.”)

“Supongo que sí…” (“I guess so…”)

Her laughter subsided, her face red from crying and from laughing so much she cried. She became somewhat serious again. “Mira, mi amor, yo solo quiero estar preparada. Para cualquier cosa. Esto es muy nuevo para mí, para ti, para todos. Yo dudo que esto sea así de fácil, esto no es un cuento de hadas. Y quiero estar lista para ayudarte y apoyarte en lo que sea que necesites.” (“Look, my love, I just want to be prepared. For anything. This is very new to me, to you, to everyone. I doubt this will be so easy, this is not a fairytale. And I want to be ready to help you and support you in whatever you might need.”) 

Simon nodded, and Linda continued. “No me preocupa que estés con Wille, yo sé que ustedes se quieren mucho, y que se van a cuidar… Pero sí me preocupa mucho que esa gente quiera decidir por ti, me preocupa que les invadan la privacidad de nuevo, y me preocupa que te arrepientas de algo… eso es todo.” (“I’m not worried about you being with Wille, I know that you love each other very much, and that you will take care of each other… But I am very worried that these people might want to decide for you, I worry that your privacy might be invaded again, and I worry that you might regret any of it… that is all.”)

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Por eso quiero que me prometas que vamos a estar constantemente hablando, chequeando que todo está bien, y que me cuentes cualquier duda o problema que tengas. Quiero que puedas hablar conmigo, que me mantengas al tanto. Quiero que puedas confiar en mí. ¿Okay?” (“That’s why I want you to promise me that we will be constantly talking, checking that everything is okay, and that you will tell me any doubts or problems that you have. I want you to be able to talk to me, to keep me up to date. I want you to be able to trust me. Okay?”)

“Te lo prometo.” (“I promise.”) Simon replied with a broad smile. 

“Y yo te prometo que voy a estar más allí para ti, mi amor, mi niño lindo… Y que les voy a tener arepas fresquesitas todos los fines de semana,” (“And I promise that I will be there for you more, my love, my beautiful boy… And that I will always have freshly-made arepas for you both every weekend,”) Linda said with a smile, pinching his cheek. 

“Uy Wille no ha probado tus arepas.” (“Oh, Wille hasn’t tried your arepas.”) Simon said, making an excited face. 

Linda pretended to become stern. “Esa es la prueba de fuego, si no le gustan mis arepas está oficialmente desinvitado.” (“That is the ultimate test, if he doesn’t like my arepas he is officially uninvited.”)

Simon grinned. “Estoy seguro que le van a encantar.” (“I’m sure he’s going to love them.”)

Linda pulled him into her arms, and Simon hugged her. She kissed his forehead, squeezing him and pretending to rock him like a baby, making him laugh. 

He would always be her chiquitín, her little boy. 

Simon got up and headed to his room, to talk to Wille, to tell him the news, and to pack his bag for the rest of the week. 

Linda tried to distract herself by cooking dinner. Her little boy was leaving, she couldn’t help but feel there was something very final about this. So she made a special dinner, as special as she could make it with hardly any time to prepare, with the few ingredients that she had. All the things he liked. 

She didn’t know if it was the onions she was cutting up, or just everything, but she started crying again. 

“Is everything okay?”

Linda wiped her eyes with her sleeve and turned, slightly embarrassed. For a moment she thought that Minou and the lawyer had returned, but it was only Joakim, standing by the large window. She sighed with relief. She felt strangely comforted by both him and Malin, but they were still strangers. 

“Yes, everything’s okay,” she said with a polite smile and went back to chopping. “This always happens with the onions, and yet I love them.”

She turned again. He was a very imposing presence, but he was looking at her somewhat concerned. She wondered if he heard her and Simon talking, if he even understood Spanish. 

“Do you have children, Joakim?”

He shook his head. Linda bit her lip.

“I know I can’t protect my children all the time, but… I just don’t want any more bad things to happen to Simon,” she added candidly. “I don’t know what I would do. But I don’t know what else to do, to protect him.”

Joakim seemed hesitant to respond. He nodded. “I understand you’re nervous. But he’ll be in good hands. We will do everything in our power to protect Simon now.”

There was something in the way that he said it that made her think that by ‘we’, he was also referring to Wilhelm. 

The Royal Court had made it very clear that the security detail are there exclusively for the Crown Prince’s safety. And yet, when he was in Drottningholm, Wilhelm had actively tried to send Malin and Joakim to Bjärstad all the way from Stockholm, and he had managed to get the Queen to send a car to escort Simon, and he had been calling Simon and checking up on him all these days. He had made the meeting possible, and he had argued in Simon’s favor against Minou and Jörgen, and he had been there…

Still, Linda was afraid.

“I know. But… what if this is a mistake?”

Joakim nodded again. “Then maybe it’s a mistake that he needs to make on his own.”

“But what if… what if it’s my mistake?”

“If I may be so bold, Linda, although I can’t speak from experience, I don’t think you’re making a mistake by trusting your son.”

She knew that was true. She knew it in her heart. She always told her children to follow their hearts, because when you follow your heart, then you can’t make mistakes. 

“He’s a really good boy, isn’t he?”

She didn’t mean Simon, of course. She knew her son was good. She wasn’t referring to him.

“I think he really cares about your son. He always has,” Joakim said. Linda smiled. 

“Yes, I think you’re right.”

And then her beautiful boy moved out. 

She felt like a part of her was being ripped away. She wished things would stay the same, she wished that she didn’t feel like everything was slowly falling apart. 

He’s coming back this weekend, she told herself, eyes welling up again. He’ll be back and you can hold him again. 

Despite the blinding flashes of light, Linda peeked through the window, filled with trepidation at the crowd of photographers trying to surround them, the cacophony of voices shouting at them. But she was comforted by the sight of a taller boy keeping a protective arm around Simon, keeping him close. 

She sobbed silently as she watched the car pull away, photographers chasing after. 

“Mum, are you okay?”

Linda turned to face Sara, who stood behind her, hair tousled like she had just gotten out of bed. She pulled her into a hug, and Sara hugged her back.

She still didn’t know what was going on with Sara, she still had no clue why her daughter had come home after being so excited to live in Manor House. She had tried to get her to talk to her, but she just shut her out more.

She had to trust herself, trust her instincts, that her children would come to her and tell her if something was wrong. 

In the meantime, she was happy that she had her daughter back. That she still had someone to hold. 

“Sí, mi niña bella, estoy bien.” (“Yes, my beautiful girl, I’m okay.”)

There were thousands of new pictures and videos of them now. All the photos and videos that the press managed to take of them leaving the house, even if their faces were not completely visible, made rounds on social media. More articles and posts talking, or rather speculating about them, news anchors were talking about them on the news again. 

“The Royal House has declined to comment at the moment,” all the press articles and posts and segments said. 

The more she saw Simon’s face and name getting around, the more she wished she had someone else to talk to about it. Someone she could trust.

That weekend, she asked Simon if it was okay for her to send text in the family chat group explaining the situation briefly and asking them for discretion, just to be on the safe side. Like Simon, she trusted her family to be discreet, and that the Royal Court didn’t need to worry about them, but she thought she should have the courtesy to let her family know what was going on, instead of waiting for each to find out and ask her about it. 

Simon agreed. So she drafted a message, and they looked at it together, and she sent it. 

- Querida familia, creo que ya muchos han visto fotos y videos de Simon en las noticias y las redes sociales recientemente. Y estoy segura de que muchos están al tanto de lo que sucedió el año pasado con el video que se volvió viral, y lo que está sucediendo ahora en Suecia. Ya muchos me han preguntado si lo que sale en las noticias es verdad, y quería aclarar algunas cosas. Sí, Simon está de pareja con el príncipe Wilhelm, y son compañeros de clases. Y sí, lamentablemente, esto significa que hay mucha atención puesta sobre los dos. Pero quería que supieran que estamos bien, que estamos recibiendo apoyo para que Simon esté bien, y para que se proteja su privacidad lo más posible. Les comento todo esto porque quisiera pedirles que por favor ustedes también protejan la privacidad de Simon. Por favor no estén comentando ni hablando sobre el tema con nadie, si les preguntan al respecto por favor no digan nada, ni compartan información. Ellos merecen que no les invadan su privacidad más de lo que ya fue. También quería agradecerles a todos los que ya han llamado o escrito para preguntar cómo estamos, y confirmarles que estamos bien. Los quiero mucho y los extraño un montón. 

(- Dear family, I think many of you have already seen photos and videos of Simon in the news and in social media recently. And I’m sure many of you are aware of what happened last year with the video that went viral, and what is happening now in Sweden. Many have already asked me if what is on the news is true, and I wanted to clarify some things. Yes, Simon is going out with prince Wilhelm, and they are classmates. And yes, unfortunately, this means that there’s a lot of attentions on them both. But I wanted you to know that we are okay, that we are receiving support to make sure that Simon is okay, and to protect his privacy as much as possible. I’m telling you this because I would like to ask that you please protect Simon’s privacy as well. Please don’t go around commenting or talking about this with anyone, if you’re asked about it please don’t say anything or share any information. They deserve to not have their privacy invaded more than it already has been. I wanted to also thank those that have already called or written to ask how we are, and to confirm that we are well. I love you all so much and I miss you loads.)

She felt a bit lighter after that. The heaviness and loneliness she felt dissipated, as responses from the family trickled in, coming in throughout the weekend. 

- Nos avisas si necesitan algo. (You tell us if you need anything.)

- Qué bueno que las cosas estén mejor. (So glad that things are better now.)

- Dile a Simon que lo queremos mucho. (Tell Simon we love him a lot.)

- Te mando un abrazo. (Sending you a hug.)

- ¡WOW un príncipe! ¡Simon está haciendo historia! (WOW a prince! Simon is making history!)

- No te preocupes, Linda, no vamos a estar diciendo nada, no es asunto nuestro. (Don’t worry, Linda, we’re not going to be saying anything, it’s not our business.)

- Gracias por avisarnos. No te preocupes, no vamos a compartir nada. (Thank you for letting us know. Don’t worry, we’re not sharing anything.)

- Te quiero. (Love you.)

- Los queremos. (We love you.) 

- Cuídense. Bendiciones! (Take care. Blessings!)

- ¡Bendiciones! (Blessings!)

- Qué terrible todo lo que ha pasado, pero me alegro que ahora estén bien. (How awful everything that happened, but I’m glad that you’re okay now.)

- Espero que ese príncipe trate bien a nuestro Simon. (I hope that prince treats our Simon well.)

The sun had just started to come out. Linda read a couple of new messages on the phone, smiling to herself, then pushed the covers off and got out of bed. It was time to go back to the real world.

On weekend mornings, she normally walked around the house in her pajamas and socks and didn’t really care about her appearance at all; this time, she put on a robe and brushed her hair. Unfortunately she had to think about the fact that she could bump into Malin or Joakim or Wilhelm, or even be seen by photographers lurking outside.

The house was still quiet, nobody else seemed to be up, as Linda headed toward the bathroom. To her surprise, Wilhelm was already awake and moving around the kitchen, quietly going through the cabinets. 

He hadn’t spotted her, so she quickly slid by into the bathroom and closed the door as quietly as possible. Then she felt silly. Why was she tiptoeing around her own house? And it wasn’t like he wouldn’t hear the water running as soon as she turned on the faucet, or the toilet when she flushed. The bathroom was extremely close to the kitchen, after all.

She washed her face and brushed her teeth quickly, and took a deep breath, before opening the door again. She peeked around the corner and watched him curiously.

Wilhelm was reading something on his phone. He had the ground coffee, the set of measuring spoons, and the coffee filters on the counter in front of the coffee maker, and seemed to be trying to figure out how to use it. 

It was difficult for her to imagine this boy as being completely sheltered. When Simon said that Wilhelm had voluntarily done the dishes last night. Linda wouldn’t admit that she immediately checked to see how good of a job he had done, and was pleasantly surprised to find that they were all perfectly clean, not even a trace of rice starch on the bottom of the paila or the slotted spoon. 

But maybe she didn’t trust Google to teach him how to make good coffee on the first try. 

“Good morning, Wille,” she said quietly, so as not to startle him. He turned a little spooked anyway, but then his face split into a huge smile.

“Good morning, Linda. Oh wait.” He cleared his throat. “Buenos días.”

“Ay, ¿en español? No me digas que estás aprendiendo,” (“Oh, in Spanish? Don’t tell me you’re learning?”) Linda said, her eyes sparkling. Wilhelm nodded.

“Es una… sorpresa…? para Simon. Estoy estudiando.” (“It’s a surprise for Simon. I’m studying.”) He said, speaking very slowly and hesitant. Linda’s eyes grew as wide as her smile. 

“¿De verdad?” (“Really?”) she said excitedly, trying to keep her voice down, to avoid waking Simon or Sara. “Ay mi amor, you’re doing so good already! Your accent is already so good. We’ll be chatting in no time.” 

“I hope so.” Wilhelm blushed. “I’m just starting, but… I like it, it’s fun. I’m studying French at school, so I have to study Spanish on my own. But I just realized, they are similar in many aspects, so that helps.”

“I’m so glad. You can practice with me anytime,” she said enthusiastically. “I’d love to help you.”

“But Simon can’t know yet. I want to get better at it before I tell him,” Wilhelm said, his voice dropping even lower. 

Linda nodded. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to squish him like a stuffed animal, but resisted it.

“And how come you decided to learn it?” She asked. Wilhelm shrugged, cheeks pink again.

“Because it feels like it’s important to you and Simon. It’s your native language, and in a way it’s his too. So I thought it would be nice to learn it.”

“That is very thoughtful and sweet.”

“Gracias.”

She chuckled. Her mind was suddenly filled with joyful new visions mixed with old ones, of future non-existent grandchildren. She wondered if she would ever become an abuela, if either Sara or Simon would ever think about that, and she wondered what they would look like, if she would ever get to teach her grandchildren the songs and rhymes that she sang to her children, that her mother and her grandparents and aunts and uncles sang to her.

“Did you know that when Simon was younger, he didn’t want to speak Spanish?” She said, filling the kettle. She thought of making oatmeal for breakfast, because there were not enough arepas left for everyone. 

“Oh didn’t he?”

“He thought it was too different, and he was shy and he didn’t want to stand out. But I would force him to speak it at home, at least. I would pretend I didn’t understand him, and I’d only speak to him in Spanish. I think eventually he gave in, or he realized how important it was for me that he would know Spanish. Or maybe he realized that it was cool that he could speak another language. So he started using it more at home, all the time, and quickly became fluent.” 

“And now he loves it,” Wilhelm commented.

Linda nodded. “I tried to do the same thing with Sara too, but… it didn’t work. She understands it perfectly, but she rarely speaks it. She said there’s no one else to practice with, other than us, so… what’s the point.”

Wilhelm bit his lip. “Well… at least Simon does.”

“And now you,” Linda said, smiling again. Wilhelm nodded proudly.

“Sí.”

The kettle boiled and shut off. Linda retrieved the oatmeal and sugar and cinnamon from the pantry, and the milk from the fridge, and gestured for Wilhelm to pass her a pot from the drying rack. He stood by, watching her mix all the ingredients in the pot. 

“Linda?”

“Hmm?”

“Umm…I never had a chance to… to apologize-”

“Oh, Wille, you don’t have to,” she interjected quickly. “Okay? Not to me, at least.”

Disconcerted, Wilhelm’s mouth hung open for a second. He swallowed hard. 

“I… I still wanted you to know-” 

“I already know,” she interrupted again, standing in front of him. Instinctively, she reached up to touch his face and smiled, tenderly stroking his cheek. “I know. And it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Warm brown eyes, huge and childlike stared back at her, confused and surprised and unsure. 

So she hugged him, like she had the first time, a few days ago, and like she had the previous morning. 

Tighter, yet, because there was no one looking. And he was hugging her back just as tightly. 

It was like they had known each other for years, like they had been hugging their entire lives, instead of just for the third time. 

When she pulled back, their eyes were misted over. She smiled again, even wider now, because he was smiling too. 

“So, are you up early even on weekends, like me?” She asked, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. 

Wilhelm sniffed and cleared his throat. “Kind of. Not usually this early, but… it’s always a bit strange sleeping in a new place.”

“I know. I have trouble with that too.”

“So I got tired of trying to go back to sleep, and just snuck out. Simon didn’t wake up at all, even though I made a lot of noise.”

“Oh yeah, he’s a heavy sleeper. If I don’t wake him up, he can sleep all the way past noon on Sundays.”

Wilhelm gestured to the items laid out on the counter. ”And then I was going to make coffee, but… I’ll be honest, I’ve never made coffee before,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I was googling how to make it when you came in. I thought it would be easier, but every tip that I find says something slightly different about the coffee to water proportion.”

“Don’t worry, it’s much simpler than that.”

Wilhelm smiled, but again looked embarrassed. “Uh, sorry that I went through the pantries. I probably should have waited for you to get up before-”

“No, no, no, Wille, por favor… mi casa es tu casa,” she said with a wink. “Did you understand that?”

He grinned. “Yes. I mean… Sí.”

“Would you like me to show you how to use the coffee maker?”

“Sí, por favor.”

Linda smiled, delighted. “Okay, I’ll show you.”

Notes:

I hope we get more Linda in season 3. I feel like people have been hard on her for how she was with her children in season 2, and I absolutely get it and was a little frustrated by it too, but this is my interpretation as to why that was.
Linda’s ‘jumbled thoughts’ are meant to draw a parallel between her and Wilhelm. I don’t see them as similar, but I do think that, as two people who care immensely for Simon, they would have similar compunctions about dumping their problems on him, since he has enough to deal with on his own. And Simon being Simon would scold them both for keeping it all in.
The whole conversation about Spanish was inspired by Omar’s own story during Taste Buds, about how he quickly picked up Swedish when they first moved, but his mum had to force him to speak Spanish because he didn’t want to. That seems a common occurrence with young immigrant children and teenagers, rejecting their native language or the language of their parents/caretakers and only speaking in the local language, to fit in; it’s up to the parents/caretakers to really push the language on them, so that they don’t lose it.
To clarify, ‘mi casa es tu casa’ (or ‘mi casa, tu casa’) is an expression used to welcome people into your home and make them feel at home. We’re all familiar with Omar’s ‘Mi Casa Su Casa’, but honestly I don’t feel like I ever hear it like that, at least in mi country. I have never actually said those words myself, to me, ‘mi casa, su casa’ only really makes sense in the written form where you can see the comma, but spoken it sounds grammatically wrong, like something’s missing. For me, a more grammatically correct way to say it is ‘Mi casa es su casa’ (My house is your house). Realistically, I feel like the one I’ve heard most is ‘Estás en tu casa’ (you’re in your house). Also there’s a difference on whether you choose to say ‘su’ (the formal you) or ‘tu’ (the informal you), a distinction non-existent in English, but present in Spanish and (I just recently learned) Swedish. Linda would refer to Wille with the informal you in Spanish, because for one thing he’s younger, and for another that’s just how comfortable they are with each other.
Hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter 12: Friend appointment

Summary:

Rosh and Ayub visit Simon, despite the security protocol, and having to hang out with the guy who broke their friend’s heart. Ultimatums and heartfelt talks. Rosh POV.

Notes:

We all need a friend like Ayub, but I wouldn’t mind a friend like Rosh too, to be like my bodyguard and my lawyer and my fitness trainer. I think we can all agree that neither of them were very good a match-making in season 2, but at least their had their hearts in the right place.
Warning: tooth-rotting fluff, bad gamer representation, and too much football talk. Also spoliers for the latest season of Stranger Things (again).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rosh hoped that the vein in her forehead wouldn’t burst, because her blood was boiling.

Not only did she and Ayub just have to maneuver their motorcycles around a crowd of paparazzi forming a half a mile radius perimeter around Simon’s house, blinding them with camera flashes, despite their helmet visors, and despite the fact that it was the middle of the day, they were now being patted down and ID’ed by a bodyguard just outside of Simon’s front door and told about security measures and other bullshit. They had already put up with having to send their information and copies of their picture IDs beforehand and waiting to receive confirmation of approval, all just to see their friend.

Because His Royal Highness Crown Prince Wilhelm of Sweden was there. 

Wilhelm who had lied to Simon. Wilhelm who had broken Simon’s heart. Wilhelm whose cousin had the audacity to post a video of them having sex on the internet and made Simon’s life miserable. 

Okay, maybe that wasn’t Wilhelm’s fault. 

At least the bodyguard patting them down was the pretty blonde woman. If Rosh had to put up with some burly dude getting handsy with her, she was going to blow up the roof. 

“Hey Simme!” Ayub exclaimed once they were inside, like he was unbothered by the hassle they had just been put through. 

Simon stood by, in jeans and socks and a sweater, smiling as they took off their shoes and coats. Behind him, in a very similar attire and wearing Simon’s purple hoodie, stood Wilhelm. He was smiling too, but not as big. In fact, he looked a bit nervous.

Good, thought Rosh.

Ayub and Simon hugged each other. “So glad you guys could make it. I’ve missed you,” Simon said. 

“So glad you’re still alive and well. We’ve been worried about you getting into fights with paparazzi,” Ayub joked. 

“Me? Never, although I’m tempted to, sometimes,” Simon said, hugging Rosh. “You guys remember Wille, right?”

Rosh did not move toward Wilhelm at all, whereas Ayub went in for a half-hug, a bro hug. Ugh, thought Rosh. 

“Hi Rosh,” Wille said, giving her a timid wave. Rosh gave a stiff head bow.

“Crown Prince,” she said. 

“Rosh, don’t be a dumbass,” Simon said with a dismissive laugh, giving her a light shove. “We’re ordering pizza for lunch, unless you guys prefer something else,” he said, leading everyone inside. 

“I thought you said you had pizza last night,” Ayub asked. 

“Yeah, but we don’t mind having it again. Right?” Simon glanced at Wille.

“Yeah, I never get to have pizza.” 

“What, they don’t make fancy pizza in a fancy pizza oven at the fancy school?” Ayub teased.

“I wish,” Simon and Wille said, and chuckled like idiots for saying it in unison. Rosh remained unamused.

Wilhelm was on the phone ordering pizza, whilst Rosh and Ayub greeted Linda, who was in the kitchen rolling up cachitos, which looked like small croissants with cheese, for later. Ayub started asking Simon about what it was like living in a fancy boarding school and Simon was telling him how weird it was to stay ‘at school’ after class instead of heading home, and being relieved that he didn’t have to room with anyone else.

“And how is living together working out for you two?” Ayub asked once they had gone to Simon’s room. The pizza wouldn’t arrive for at least thirty minutes, and they would play video games in the meantime. Rosh plopped down on the bed and took one of the controllers as Simon turned on the computer and the video game console.  

“Again, it’s only for a while,” Simon clarified.

“Oh but I bet you guys are making the most of that while, eh?” Ayub said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Wilhelm turned red. “Please tell me you don’t share every detail with them.”

“Please tell me you guys keep your curtains closed,” Ayub said with a pointed look. Simon rolled his eyes.

“Of course I don’t, and of course we do,” he said, glancing at Wilhelm and Ayub in turn.

“What are we playing first?” Rosh interrupted. She had been looking forward to hanging out and catching up with her friend Simon, but she wasn’t all that excited to talk endlessly about his budding romance. Ayub, on the other hand, seemed to not want to talk about anything else. 

“And what about your classmates? Don’t they have something to say about the school letting you two live together?” Ayub asked, as they four of them played ‘The Quarry’, an online horror game.

“They do, but it’s none of their business, is it?” Simon replied. “Rosh, what the fuck, don’t go out there!”

“Ha! I bet they’re jealous. You guys don’t have to sneak around, but everyone else still does,” Ayub chuckled. 

“I’m trying to find that house,” Rosh interjected. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never played this one before.”

“Me neither,” Simon said. “I’m following Ayub, who seems to know what he’s doing.”

“I’m just following all of you,” Wille said. 

“But, like, the Royal Court and the school both agreed to let you live together, right? That wasn’t something that you two pushed for,” Ayub continued with his line of questioning, as he kept playing effortlessly. 

“Yeah, sort of…” Wilhelm responded. “I mean, it’s the plan while Simon’s application is reviewed, then they’ll probably give him his own room. Whoa! What the fuck was that?” They all jumped at the same time. There was a creature or something lurking around their characters in the game. 

“No idea. This game is nerve-wrecking,” Simon said, making a face as he gripped his controller closer to his chest. 

“It’s not as bad as ‘The Last of Us’,” Rosh said. 

“‘The Last of Us’ is a cinematic masterpiece and a devastating story, and it’s terrifying, but I love it. Maybe we should play that instead, I don’t know how much longer I can take this,” Simon remarked.  

“I’ve never actually played ‘The Last of Us’,” Wilhelm confessed. 

“Then can we play that one next? You have to see it, it’s beautiful,” Simon said.

“But you, like, live in the same house as August, don’t you? What is that like?” Ayub said.

Rosh nudged him. Simon and Wilhelm lost their focus, hesitating, and suddenly Simon’s character in the game got attacked by a horrible monster person with green skin and an unhinged jaw, and died before he could get away. 

“Ugh, I’m dead.”

“Sorry, bro. I shouldn’t have asked,” Ayub said. 

“Nah, it’s okay. It is what it is…” Simon sighed. “And well… so far so good.” 

He glanced at Wilhelm, who hesitated before nodding. Rosh smacked the back of Ayub’s head lightly. 

After a couple of minutes, Rosh died too, and then Wilhelm. 

“No offense, but that game was boring, too much backstory, not enough actual playing. I’d rather watch a movie of it,” Rosh said.

“Great, can we play ‘The Last of Us’ now?” Simon asked.

“But it’s a single-player game,” Ayub replied. 

“We’ll take turns then. The pizza should be here soon, anyway. Do you guys want to watch a movie while we eat?”

They decided to watch ‘Stranger Things’ with lunch, because they all left it around the same episode. Simon stepped out to go to the bathroom while Ayub set up the game. 

“I’m playing first,” Rosh announced, snatching up the main controller, which Ayub had set aside. She shot a look at Wilhelm, who hadn’t even tried to grab it first.

“Fine by me, I’ve never played it. So I guess I should watch the master first,” he said, giving her a friendly smile. 

Rosh glanced at the closed door before leaning forward and glaring at him again.

“Listen, between you and me, Your Royal Highness, Simon might be willing to get back together with you, and the whole world may be under the impression that you’re quite the catch just because you’re a prince, but I don’t roll with that shit. You think you can just show up saying that you’re willing to give up your crown to be with my friend, or give a speech to the whole world declaring your love, after the shit you fucking pulled, and I’m gonna be cool about it? It’s not going to be that easy. I’ve had it up to here with you bunch of privileged shits and your manipulating and doing whatever the fuck you want, while my friend is the one who pays the price. I might believe that you’re truly sorry for what happened before, and that you’re willing to do anything to be with Simon, but you best believe that if you ever hurt him or break his heart again, I’m gonna hurt you and break some of your royal bones.”

Ayub snorted from where he was clicking away on the computer. “Wow, Rosh, I didn’t take you for being such a cliché. Don’t worry, Wille, she’s not serious, she’s just-”

“Ayub, for fuck’s sake! I am serious! I’m not letting you or any other asshole of your kind treat Simon like he’s worthless ever again. So you better get your shit together. Got it?”

Wilhelm’s eyes were wider, his face blank.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t fucking call me ma’am.”

“Yes, Rosh.”

She stared at him long and hard. If he even so much as smiled or laughed, she was clocking him in the nose.

The door opened and Simon came back in. Wilhelm was still a bit stunned. Rosh leaned back against the wall, whilst Ayub pretended to be busy setting up the game but he kept glancing at the others. 

“What’s going on?”

Wilhelm’s eyes shifted over to Rosh, who looked nonchalantly at the computer screen. 

“Um… well… Rosh just threatened to break some of my bones if I ever hurt you again.”

The controller flew out of Rosh’s hands and smacked Wilhelm in the shoulder. He recoiled, wincing. “Ow! And I believe her!”

Simon grimaced. “Rosh! What the fuck?”

Rosh glared at Wilhelm. “I said that was between you and me, you were not supposed to tell him. And I did not threaten you. I was warning you.”

“It’s much the same thing in this case,” Ayub stated. “And I was going to tell him anyway. I wish I had recorded it, it was really funny.”

Wilhelm rubbed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but Simon and I have an absolute honesty policy going on. We don’t have any secrets between us.”

“Is that so? Interesting,” Ayub mused. 

Simon rubbed his face. “Rosh, don’t threaten to break my boyfriend’s bones, please.” 

Rosh held up her hands in defense. “I’m just looking out for you, being a good friend. I thought it was a good opportunity to remind him that recurring mistakes will not be tolerated.”

“That is a good friend,” Wilhelm agreed, still rubbing his shoulder.

“So you can ask him absolutely anything and he has to answer?” Ayub asked.

“Believe me, if he ever hurts me again, I might do the bone-breaking myself,” Simon declared. He sat on Wilhelm’s lap and pretended to nurse his ‘injured’ shoulder whilst Wilhelm pouted like a baby. 

Rosh rolled her eyes. “Oh please, you told us that the first time you saw him after Christmas, it was like he hypnotized you.”

“Okay, that was unnecessary.” Simon shot her a warning look. Rosh’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you not just say that there’s absolute honesty between you two? I’m sure Wille would like to know that.”

“Can you ask him if, I don’t know, if he’s ever shit his pants, or something like that? And I mean ever in his life, baby years don’t count, we’ve all shit our pants as babies.”

“Ayub, I don’t actually want to know that.”

“But I do. Just ask him, he has to answer.”

“No thanks. Can we just go back to playing? The pizza will be here soon. Who’s going first?” Simon picked up the controller that had been thrown across the room. 

“Okay, in that case, Wille, would you like to ask Simon if he’s ever shit his pants? He has to answer.”

“Ayub! Stop being gross!” Simon shouted.

“Yeah, I don’t actually want to know that either,” Wilhelm said.

“You better not have broken my controller with that little stunt,” Simon grumbled at Rosh, checking the state of the controller. Wilhelm pouted again.

“Excuse me, are you really more worried that my arm broke your controller, rather than your controller breaking my arm?”

“Don’t be a big baby,” Simon said, planting a forehead kiss. 

Rosh started the game quickly and started playing, so that she wouldn’t gag at their cutesy behavior. 

When the pizza arrived, they moved to the living room and put on ‘Stranger Things’ while they ate, pizza boxes laid out on the coffee table. Linda joined them, and Ayub talked the whole time trying to summarize the plot of that season to Linda, since she had tried watching it with Simon but was too scared of Vecna. Every time she thought he would appear on screen, she covered her eyes. 

“We forgot the serviettes, I’ll go get them,” Simon announced, getting up from his spot on the floor.

“Do you want us to pause it?” Ayub asked.

“It’s okay, I already watched this part,” he said, walking out the living room. 

Rosh got up too, to get more ice from the fridge, because the one in her cup had melted. “I’ll be right back too,” she announced, but glanced back and glared at Ayub. “No, don’t worry, you don’t have to pause it for me either, Ayub, but thank you very much for offering,” she said in an exaggerated pleasant tone.

“Shh, I can’t hear the TV,” Ayub said, waving a hand at her. Wilhelm snorted from his spot on the floor. Rosh stuck out her tongue at Ayub and walked off. She stopped just past the front door.

Sara had emerged from her room, and she was standing beside Simon, trying to get him to talk to her, listen to her, or even look at her. Simon washed his hands and dried them as quick as he could. 

“Please,” Sara said. 

He ignored her. 

Please, Simon,” she repeated. He finally looked at her, giving her a hard stare.

“I have guests. I’m busy right now.”

He turned away from her and grabbed the package of serviettes and headed back into the living room, sliding past Rosh, who stood there, awkwardly pretending that she hadn’t seen or heard anything. 

Sara glanced up and noticed her and looked embarrassed. Rosh hesitated before walking into the kitchen. 

“Hi,” she said, and got an even more sheepish ‘hi’ in return. Sara wouldn’t meet Rosh’s eyes. 

“There’s pizza, if you want,” Rosh said gently. Sara sighed and shook her head. 

“No, thanks.”

Rosh nodded, as she poured ice into her cup. “How have you been?”

Sara didn’t reply, heading back to her room, shutting the door firmly. Rosh stared after her.

If she were honest, she was as angry at Sara as she was at Wilhelm. 

Maybe even more so, because she had expected Wilhelm to turn out to be the worst. But Sara?

Rosh still couldn’t believe that Sara did what she did. And for that guy, who was the worst of all; the guy who bullied Simon, tricked him, and then posted revenge porn of him on the Internet.

Simon who had always been Sara’s protector, despite being younger; who left his own friends behind so that he could transfer to the same school as her, so that she wouldn’t be alone, despite being treated like shit by the rich kids; who would do anything for the people he loved, especially his sister… 

Rosh carried her cup back into the living room and plopped down on the couch next to Ayub. Simon was back on the floor next to Wilhelm, leaning against the couch by Linda’s legs.

She noticed Simon’s tense face, noticed how it softened when he and Wilhelm exchanged looks, a smile replacing the sneer.

On the screen, Mike Wheeler and Will Byers were talking in Will’s bedroom.

“And I feel like maybe I was worrying too much about El… and… I don’t know, maybe I feel like I lost you or something… Does that make sense?” Mike was saying. “I have no idea what’s gonna happen next… but, whatever it is, I think we should work together. I think it would be easier if we’re a team. Friends. Best friends.”

“Cool,” Will said with a hopeful smile.

“Cool,” Mike repeated.

Distracted, Rosh glanced at Simon. She was just happy that her friend finally had a chance to relax. It’s not like things were great now, but at least some things were better.

The last time Simon seemed so carefree was the night that he invited Wilhelm to her football game, and they cheered for her from the sidelines. And then she and Ayub had to watch them flirt like two clueless idiots, and then they drove them around in their motorcycles, going all the way back to Hillerska to drop Wilhelm off. She remembered Ayub telling her, after they dropped off Simon at his house, that he had never seen him like this before, and that he had a good feeling about the prince. 

And Rosh begrudgingly had to admit to herself that she hadn’t completely disliked Wilhelm back then. 

She was still making up her mind about him now.

But at least Simon was smiling again. 

“I feel bad for Will, he’s obviously crushing hard on Mike, but Mike’s with Eleven, and also he’s his best friend and-”

“Ayub, shut up!” Rosh hissed, slapping his shoulder.

“I’m telling Linda!”

After another episode of the show, they had coffee and tea and the cachitos that Linda had baked, and then returned to Simon’s room. Ayub and Wilhelm were playing ‘A Way Out’, which was a two-player game, so Rosh and Simon went to the kitchen to make more tea while they waited for their turns to play. 

“So, did you really end things with Marcus?” Rosh asked while Simon filled the kettle. 

“Uh, no, we’re still together,” Simon said casually, before he frowned at her. “Of course I ended things with Marcus!” he snapped.

Rosh held up her hands. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe you ghosted him.”

“No, of course not, I wouldn’t do that. I had to end it. He… I don’t know if he just couldn’t take the hint, or if I wasn’t being clear enough.”

Rosh shrugged. “Well, you said you couldn’t understand why you hadn’t fallen in love with him, but then you took him to that ball thing. I thought maybe you were starting to like him after all.”

“Well, you know… I tried, but it didn’t work. It wasn’t going to work. The ball was…” he trailed off and shook his head. He turned the kettle on. 

“Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Why wouldn’t it work?”

Simon scoffed. “Look, can we not talk about him? That was… I was just trying to get over Wille. I never actually had any feelings for Marcus. And it just got more and more awkward because he didn’t get it in his head that I didn’t want anything serious.” He shook his head. “He turned out to be an asshole, you know? He told me I like to ‘play the victim’. Which… fuck him, you know?”

Rosh’s eyebrows shot up. “What? He said that?”

“Yep.” 

“Ugh, what a twat.” 

“Yep.”

Rosh watched him, a little embarrassed. She may have tried to make light of the event for Simon when the video came out, but it was with the intention of comforting his friend. But she never would have said anything to dismiss his feelings or make it seem like he was exaggerating. That would have been a disgusting thing to say to someone who had revenge porn posted of them on the internet.

“He also said he didn’t watch the video, by the way. Which I now realize that I don’t fucking believe him,” Simon added. “He had never spoken a single word to me before, even after knowing of each other for ages. I mean, our mums know each other… I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong, but I realized afterwards that it was weird that he only approached me after the video…” 

He trailed off, watching as the water started to boil, and steam piped out of the kettle. 

“Yeah, that sounds like bullshit.” Rosh suddenly had an urge to find out. If this asshole had lied about something like that, then she might punch him in the face. To think that she had been rooting for him… “Sorry that he sucked,” she said after a pause. 

The kettle stopped, and Simon poured the boiled water into four cups. He gave a small shrug.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

They stood there in silence, waiting for the teas to steep. 

“I guess the only thing he had going for him was that I probably wouldn’t need to be patted down and get through a wall of paparazzi to be near him,” Rosh finally said with a wry smile. 

Simon stared at her. “What?”

Rosh shook her head. “I’m joking. I was just annoyed earlier about the protocol,” she said, the last word emphasized with a phony posh accent. Simon frowned. 

“What are you implying?” 

She chuckled. “Nothing. Just trying to be funny about it. I guess that’s how things are now in your life.” 

Simon did not laugh; he seemed rather annoyed. Rosh rolled her eyes.

“Simon, I’m joking. It’s just funny that, well, we have been friends our entire lives and suddenly we need to make, like, a friend appointment and get special permission from the Queen to hang out, that’s all.”

He looked even more annoyed. “You think I like it?”

She blinked, confused. Why was he reacting this way? “Of course not… But… it’s what it is now, right? You being with Wille.”

“You think he likes it?”

Rosh let out a long breath and shrugged again, not knowing what to say. Seriously why was he acting like this? She was only trying to make light of how ridiculous this all was. “Well… probably not, but at least he’s used to it, isn’t he? I’m not. You’re not.”

That didn’t seem to make it better at all. Simon crossed his arms. “You know he wasn’t always the crown prince, he hasn’t always had to be surrounded by security like this. And of course he doesn’t like it.”

She gave an awkward smile. “I mean, sure, but it was easier for him to adapt to it, wasn’t it?”

“Oh of course. No big deal. All that was needed was for his brother to die.”

Rosh stared at him, dumbfounded. He was beyond annoyed now, he was angry, and she should have shut up sooner, but also… why was he so defensive? 

“Simon, I was just joking…” she said. But she should have just shut up.

They used to joke like this all the time. Any other time before, he would have played along with her making fun of rich people and royalty and all that stuff. 

Things had changed. It wasn’t funny anymore. It was real. It was his life.

But that didn’t mean that he was different, did it?

Simon’s expression softened, and he dropped his arms, but he didn’t respond. He leaned over to check on how the teas were steeping. 

Rosh leaned against the counter and mentally kicked herself. 

He was different. But it wasn’t his fault.

And it wasn’t Wilhelm’s fault either. 

It was everything that happened, everything that he told them about, things that he told them excited and things that he disclosed with angry tears in his eyes, and things that he shared sobbing, heartbroken. Rosh was pretty sure that she and Ayub were the only ones who knew everything, the only people Simon had trusted with the full story, and trusted them to keep secret, they were the ones who knew when and where everything had gone wrong, and…

And she should have been more supportive. 

Simon hesitated before speaking. “Be honest… Do you have problem with Wille?”

Rosh crossed her arms, almost defensive, before letting out a long breath and dropping her arms to her side.

“Simon,” she started, hoping that she wouldn’t say something stupid, hoping to not come across as a jerk, “you can’t expect me to just be cool with him right away, can you? Not after what he did to you.”

He seemed to be absorbing her words.

“Do you… you think I’m making a mistake by getting back together with him?”

Rosh shook her head. “No…” she groaned. “I didn’t mean that, no. I… I think he really cares about you, and I can see how much you mean to each other.” Ugh, she sounded so corny. “I’m sorry if I’m being a bitch, but… I can’t help being protective. I spent weeks seeing you hurt, and I really don’t want that to happen to you again, okay? That’s all.”

Simon shook his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pick a fight… I’m just so tired… of everything.” A small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You’re not a bitch. And you don’t have to be sorry. I appreciate your concern. But… just because I was hurt doesn’t mean that I stopped loving him, even after what he did. And he didn’t stop loving me either. And I get why he did what he did, even though it did hurt, but I’ve forgiven him. I’m grateful that you want to protect me, but I’m fine. Trust me, I’m not just going to let him hurt me again.”

She gave a sharp inhale and crossed her arms again. “Fine.”

He gave her a curious look. “You know, he was really nervous about hanging out with you two. And I thought he was being silly. I guess I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re not as intimidating as you want to appear.”

“Yes, I am, I’m a menace to anyone who crosses me or my friends,” she snarked. Simon grinned.

“Sure, and I bet he’s not going to forget your threat and your controller-throwing skills. And I appreciate it, but… maybe you can give him a chance to show you that you don’t have to worry about him. He’s…”

“I know, I know, he’s fucking Prince Charming.”

“That’s so cheesy, no. But… he’s pretty great. He’s been great. And he’s trying to make up for everything. Like, he really wanted me to be able to hang out with you guys, so he did everything to make it possible. And he wanted to hang out with you guys too, get to know you better. And, well… so far you’ve made a teeeerrible impression, by the way. But I’m sure he’ll give you a second chance.”

“Oh what an honor,” Rosh retorted sardonically. Simon met her eyes with a pleading look.

“Rosh, seriously, can you give him a second chance too?”

She exhaled noisily. “Fine. But don’t expect us to be friends anytime soon.”

“I’m not. Not after you threw a controller at him, for sure. But… at least you two have one thing in common.”

Rosh made a face. ”Ugh, are you gonna say that we both love you? Who’s the cheesy one now?”

Simon grinned. “You love me so much that you were threatening to break his bones. And he loves me so much that he put up with your crap.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll give him a second chance,” Rosh confirmed. “Still, it’s going to take me a while to get used to… this.” She gestured toward the front door; she was referring to what was beyond the door, to the bodyguards and the photographers and the protocol for setting foot in the house that she had visited so many times before, where she used to be welcome so easily. 

It was a small obstacle, but it was difficult to wrap her head around. Simon rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what she meant. 

“Same.”

Rosh kicked her feet. “And it’s gonna suck that we’re only going to see each other on a strict schedule.”

“Dumbass, there’s no schedule. We can see each other whenever we want.”

“Oh really? Are you sure you don’t need the Queen’s permission?” Rosh said in her mock posh voice.

“Please don’t bring her up…” Simon mumbled, mortified. 

“What? Already you don’t get along with your future mother-in-law?” she joked.

“Fucking shut up,” he laughed. 

As if they had summoned her, Wilhelm got a phone call from his mother. Everyone fell silent, as Wilhelm became tense and stood up from the floor.

“One second,” he said into the phone, heading to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Simon paused the game and watched him go. Wilhelm held up a hand, as if to indicate it was fine, before closing the door behind him. Rosh unpaused the game and continued playing. “Hurry up, Vincent!” she yelled at the screen. Simon returned his attention to the screen, clicking away at the controller. 

She glanced at the closed door. “What was that about?” she asked off-handedly. 

“No idea. He just… he gets like that when he talks to his mum,” Simon said, his face a bit sour. 

Rosh didn’t ask further. It wasn’t surprising, judging from every story that Simon had shared with them so far. She knew what it was like to have a strained relationship with a parent; she and her own mum rarely got along, they could argue over the most menial things, her mother nitpicking over every single aspect of Rosh’s life. And yet they loved each other. 

Still, it was weird that the mum in question here was none other than the Queen. 

“Hey Simme, did you know that if you and Wille get married, you would become a Duke?”

Simon did not look away from the screen, but he got distracted. “What are you talking about?”

Ayub was sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall, reading something on his phone and grinning. “There’s a whole article on what your titles would be if you marry into the royal family.”

“Wait, what?” Simon got distracted again. 

“Ayub, what are you reading?” Rosh asked, her eyes still on the screen. 

Ayub held up his phone for them to see, but from where she was, she couldn’t read anything. “It’s an article on Hola magazine online, it was on Twitter. Since you’re a trending topic, there’s like hundreds of these. This one’s an analysis on how, if you guys get married, you would become a prince and a Duke.”

Simon threw him a look. “Seriously, you’re reading that stuff?”

“Listen to this: What would a wedding between Crown Prince Wilhelm and his current boyfriend Simon Eriksson be like? That possibility is still several years away for the fresh young couple. But if they do tie the knot in the future, here is a quick guide to what Simon’s titles and styles would be as part of the Swedish royal family…

“Ayub, I don’t… could you stop?” Simon huffed and kept playing. 

“You don’t want to know?” Ayub asked.

“I don’t wanna know either,” Rosh stated. 

“Just listen. As the official spouse of the Crown Prince, Simon would be styled as His Royal Highness Prince Simon, and he would stop using his own surname.

“What? I wouldn’t be Eriksson anymore?”

“Apparently. Ohhh, so suddenly you’re interested in knowing more, hmmm?”

”I’m not. I’m really not.” 

“You like being an Eriksson?” Rosh asked.

Simon shrugged. “I mean… My mum kept it because it makes things easier to have a Swedish surname. And I like having the same surname as my mum.”

He would also be given the title of Duke of a province of Sweden,” Ayub continued.

“Ayub, stop.”

“Oh, in that case you have to be Duke of Östergötland. You know, for Bjärstad. That is if you get to choose the province yourself,” Rosh said. 

“Ooooh, look who else is suddenly interested in what her friend is going to be called as a prince,” Ayub teased.

“Shut up! Stop!” Simon groaned. Rosh shook her head.

“I’m not interested. I’m just saying, if you pick any other province that is not the one where Bjärstad is, I’m not talking to you ever again, Your Royal Highness.”

“Would you both stop?”

“It says that you would be referred to as Prince Simon whilst Wille is still Crown Prince… once Wilhelm ascends to the throne and becomes king, he would be styled His Majesty King Wilhelm of Sweden, whilst his spouse would be styled His Royal Highness Prince Consort Simon-

“Ayub, for fuck’s sake.”

“Ooooh Prince Consort Simon…” Rosh sang. 

“Ahem, that’s Your Royal Highness Prince Consort Simon to you, peasant,” Ayub corrected her.

“I need you both to shut up before Wille comes back and hears you calling me that,” Simon hissed, pausing the game to give both his friends dirty looks. Ayub and Rosh exchanged looks, wiggling their eyebrows. 

“Here are some interesting facts. Did you know that if Simon Eriksson marries Crown Prince Wilhelm in the future, he wouldn’t be the first person of color to marry into a European royal family? Biracial American actress Meghan Markle became princess and Duchess of Surrey when she married Prince Harry of England in 2018. Simon wouldn’t even be the first Latino to marry a European Prince: Afro-Panamanian fashion designer Angela Brown married Prince Maximilian of Liechtenstein in 2000. At least we know that if Wilhelm and Simon get married they would be the first same-sex royal couple ever. Groundbreaking!

Simon panicked when he heard steps approaching. “Shhh, he’s coming,” he hissed and unpaused the game. Rosh stopped laughing and continued playing too, whilst Ayub clasped his phone to his chest and smiled at Wilhelm as he came back in.

“Sorry about that,” he said, taking his spot on the floor next to Simon. 

“Everything okay?” Simon asked. 

Wilhelm nodded. “Yeah, she was just checking in, asking how everything was going, and reminding me that we should be back at school by eight. And also talking about some… official commitments.”

“Hmmm, okay.”

“Hey Wille, do you know the Princess of Liechtenstein?” Ayub inquired in an innocent tone. Rosh pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from snickering, whilst Simon discreetly glared at his friend.

A puzzled Wilhelm just went with it. “Uh, which one do you mean?”

“Which ones do you know?”

“Um… I haven’t met all of them, and I don’t remember their names right.”

“Do you know Princess Angela?”

“Not in person, but yeah… what about her?”

“She’s Latina, right?”

Rosh peeked at Simon’s face out of the corner of her eye, and saw that he was gripping his controller hard, like it might fly out of his hand at any moment and smack Ayub in the head if it would shut him up. Beside him, Wilhelm’s mouth was fighting a curious smile as his eyes darted between Ayub and Simon. 

“Yeah, I think she’s from Panama,” Wilhelm responded. Ayub’s eyes widened comically.

“Ah, Panama, yeah, that’s close to Venezuela, isn’t it, Simon?”

Simon turned his head slowly toward Ayub, like a posssessed doll. 

“Sort of. Colombia is right between them,” he seethed. 

“That’s pretty close,” Ayub said, unfazed. Wilhelm cleared his throat, trying not to smile. 

“Why the sudden interest in the Princess of Liechtenstein?”

“Nothing, we were just, umm… learning a little bit about European monarchies,” Ayub gave a dismissive wave. “Did you go to her wedding, by any chance?”

Simon leaned over and shoved his controller into Ayub’s chest, making him wince. “Here, Ayub, why don’t you play for a while? I’m tired, and you need to stop talking,” he said, the last bit coming out through gritted teeth. Ayub pouted. 

“What? I can’t have a conversation with your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, but maybe you can talk about something else,” Simon remarked. 

Ayub smiled innocently. “I’m just curious, I’ve never been to a royal wedding, I wanted to know what that was like. You never know when you might end up at one…” 

“You ask too many questions.”

“Why are you keeping this curiosity door locked?” Ayub teased. 

“Come on, Ayub, focus, we have to get out of prison,” Rosh sniggered, throwing one last look at her now decidedly grumpy friend. Simon had his arms crossed and was pouting like a child. It was only when Wilhelm tugged at him to scoot back, so that he was fitted against Wilhelm’s chest with his arms around him, that Simon stopped frowning. 

“Here’s a different topic for you, Simon: what are we doing for your birthday?” Rosh asked, as soon as they had to restart the game. She offered the controller to Wilhelm or Simon, but they both shook their heads. 

“What are you talking about? My birthday is months away, and also yours comes first.”

“I know, but I’m guessing that from now on, anything you do requires more planning,” she clarified, trying not to sound annoyed. “That’s only two months away, so… best get started, right?”

Simon hummed. “That’s true.”

“Also I’m pretty sure it’s smack in the middle of the week, when you’re at Hillerska.”

“Also true.”

Simon had the misfortune of his birthdays being very close to the end of the school semester, so sometimes it coincided with either the study period or finals week. This year it didn’t, but it was still on a Wednesday and they still had classes. 

“What do you want to do for your birthday?” Ayub asked. 

Simon shrugged. “I don’t know, not much… Anything really, as long as I get to hang out with people that I like. And eat cake, of course.”

“But, like… where would you celebrate? Would you have to stay at school?” Ayub added. Simon glanced at Wilhelm, who shrugged.

“Um… I don’t know. I mean, I’m guessing that we could come here, at least for a little while, right?”  

“Sure, it should be okay.”

“We could go bowling or to a movie or the arcade or something,” Rosh suggested. 

“Or karaoke,” Ayub said. 

Simon glared at him. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be doing karaoke ever again.”

“Same,” Wilhelm mumbled. 

“Well, it’s your birthday, your choice,” Ayub said, and he started telling Wilhelm about Simon’s past birthday celebrations: the previous year, the local theatre had a special screening of all the Star Wars movies for May the 4th, and Ayub managed to sweet-talk the theatre manager, who was a friend of his mum’s, to repeat it just for Simon’s birthday, and they sat through the full marathon for half the price of one movie ticket because it was a Tuesday. The year before that, they spent all day at the arcade and traded all their tickets for money to some kids and used their earnings to buy McDonald’s. The year before that, they bought all the ingredients to make Simon’s birthday cake themselves, and made an impressive mess of Rosh’s kitchen, and produced the ugliest cake ever seen, and then proceeded to eat the whole thing and got horrible stomachaches, and still had to clean up the kitchen. Two years before that, they spent the whole day doing basically what they had been doing that day, eating pizza and playing video games.  

He skipped the year that Simon did not celebrate his birthday at all, because his parents were getting divorced. 

“Any of those are fine. Can we do any of these things?” Simon asked Wilhelm.

Wilhelm seemed to be in deep thought, coming out when he realized that Simon was staring at him. “Yeah, sure.”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“I mean, it should be okay, but it’s a good idea that we start figuring out the logistics as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“So whatever you want to do, we’ll work something out.”

“Okay.”

Rosh glanced at Ayub, who was looking down at the controller in his hands, almost contemplative. Perhaps they were thinking the same thing; with Wilhelm in the picture, there was a big chance that either the group dynamic would change, or that there would be no dynamic at all. Not one that involved them, at least. 

She tried not to hold it against either of them. She got a feeling that Wilhelm would not purposely take Simon away from his friends, but maybe Simon wouldn’t mind so much spending his birthday with his first boyfriend, even if that meant staying at Hillerska and not hanging out with his friends. 

Or maybe the circumstances would not allow it.

They would have to wait and see.

It was almost six, and Ayub was getting incessant calls from his grandmother, telling him to be home in time for dinner. Rosh wasn’t in such a hurry to get home, but she was leaving at the same time as Ayub. There was no way she was driving through the group of paparazzi all on her own. 

Linda was starting to cook dinner, and called Wilhelm over, whilst Simon stayed in his room with his friends, talking. Rosh couldn’t tell if Wilhelm had really wanted Linda to come fetch him so she could teach him how to cook rice, or if it was just an excuse so Simon could be alone with his friends. 

“Hey, sorry about earlier. You weren’t really upset about it, were you?” Ayub asked.

Simon was gathering all the controllers and placing them on the chargers. “Nah, not upset, but I was embarrassed, you idiot. We literally just got back together, it’s barely been a week, and you start talking about royal titles and weddings? What is wrong with you? What are you trying to pull?”

Ayub snickered. ”Just teasing you. Obviously you guys aren’t talking about that stuff, but… I mean the articles are there. How could I not use use it to tease you guys?”

There was a long silence. Simon turned to them, looking serious. 

“Look, I know we joke about these things, making fun of royal titles and that kind of thing, but… this is actually his life, and it’s the part of his life that he’s not really too fond of. So maybe… maybe don’t bring it up. He won’t say if it makes him uncomfortable, but I don’t want him to feel that way.”

“Oh poor thing,” Rosh said, but she hadn’t meant for it to sound so sarcastic. She winced. “Sorry. Last time, I promise.”

“Sure,” Simon said, but he looked like he didn’t quite believe her. 

“I thought you had an honesty policy going on. Wouldn’t he say something like that to you?” Ayub asked. 

“Yeah, but… we’re still working on that, you know?”

“Okay. Well, sorry, bro. Won’t bring it up again.”

“I appreciate it.”

Rosh sat on the edge of the bed. “Speaking of awkward things… how are things between you and Sara right now?” she asked. 

Simon walked over to the fish tank and sprinkled the fish food over the surface. 

“We haven’t spoken since, well, since Monday, sort of,” he responded. “I mean, she tried to talk to me, has tried several times, but… I think I need more time. I don’t want to hear her excuses right now.”

“I get it.”

He shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to talk eventually. But I don’t have time to think about that right now. We’ve only seen each other so many times this week. And I have other stuff on my mind, and… well…”

“Well, if you ever need to talk about that, you know…” she trailed off, gesturing toward Ayub and herself. 

“Yeah, bro, we’re still here for you,” Ayub asserted. Simon smiled and nodded.

Rosh took a deep breath. “But… I know it’s none of my business, but I think it’s probably best if you talk to her as soon as possible. I mean, you might not be living in the same house anymore, and you only see each other for a little while every day, but… you’re gonna keep coming back home every weekend and seeing her and, what, pretend that she’s not right there? You won’t always be able to use us or Wille as an excuse to ignore her,” she said. 

Simon’s face fell. 

“Yeah, maybe you won’t be able to forgive her, but at least give her a chance to explain herself,” Ayub added.

“I get that you’re mad at her, you have every right, but… you probably don’t want to stay mad at her forever, do you? She’s still your sister,” Rosh said. 

Simon gave her a faint smile. 

“That’s exactly what Wille said,” he winked at her. Rosh rolled her eyes.

They stood in the kitchen saying goodbye to Linda, before heading toward the door. Wilhelm let his bodyguards know tthat Rosh and Ayub were leaving, so that they could help them get through the photographers. The number of photographers had grown, presumably because they knew that, if the Crown Prince had indeed spent the weekend there, he would have to come out at some point to head back to Hillerska.

“I just realized that our faces are going to be on social media,” Ayub said, glancing out the window at the crowd outside. 

“Maybe you should put on your helmets now, so they can’t see you faces,” Wilhelm suggested.

“Nah, bro, how do I look? How’s my hair?” Ayub retorted, glancing at himself in the mirror. 

Wilhelm laughed, but added that the helmet visors would protect them from the camera flashes, especially since it was starting to get dark. Rosh had already put on her coat and shoes, waiting for Ayub to do the same, but just then Simon told Ayub to come with him for a second, saying that he forgot to show him something really quick on his computer. 

They left Rosh and Wilhelm alone. 

Rosh clenched her jaw; she was certain that Simon had just done that on purpose, and she would have to make him pay for it. 

Wilhelm gave her an awkward smile. Unlike the last time he had seen him, in his fancy coat with his fancy scarf, now he looked almost normal, in socks and black joggers and Simon’s hoodie, hair a little messy, sleeves pushed up to his elbows to keep them from getting dirty in the kitchen. He rocked back and forth in the balls of his shoes. 

Rosh stared decidedly at the doorknob. 

“So… when’s your next game?” He finally asked. She threw him a look.

“Why?”

Wilhelm seemed dumbfounded. “Just… wondering…?”

“You can follow us on Instagram if you want to know.”

“Oh… Okay, I will.”

Rosh’s eyes widened. “Wait, no, don’t. Who knows what might happen to our Instagram and our games if the Crown Prince follows us and so much as implies that he might be at one of them.”

Wilhelm chuckled. “That’s true. You’re getting the hang of this.”

“Unfortunately,” she grumbled. Wilhelm bit his lip. 

“So… I can’t come to your games?”

Rosh wanted to say no, she wanted to say she would rather very hang out with Wilhelm minimally, she wanted to throw a game controller at him again. 

She sighed. “Why would you want to come to our games?”

Wilhelm blinked, confused. But it was a genuine question.

“Because… I like football…? Also… it was fun last time? And if Simon goes, I’d like to go with him. If possible…?”

“You like football?” Rosh asked in a skeptical tone. 

“Yeah.”

“Who do you support?” she asked, feeling like an asshole. Like the assholes who gatekeep football and video games from her by testing her with questions such as that, just because she’s a woman. Like the assholes who make it a point to tear her and her team and the other clubs down on social media just because it’s the women’s league. Like the assholes who call her names online even though she’s kicking their asses in the games. 

Wilhelm was unfazed. “Well, my national club is AIK. But…” he dropped his voice, “my real club is… AC Milan.”

Rosh’s face betrayed her with a small, automatic smile. “Because of Zlatan?” 

“Of course because of Zlatan,” Wilhelm responded matter-of-factly. Rosh’s eyes widened.

“Wait… have you met Zlatan?”

Wilhelm’s lips were pressed tightly, like he was trying not to smile. He nodded minutely. “I might have met Zlatan. I might… have a signed t-shirt… and a picture with him.”

Rosh’s mouth fell open. Of course the Crown Prince had met Sweden’s most valuable player Zlatan Ibrahimovic. “You bitch.”

Wilhelm made a face. “My brother and I became fans when he joined, but… I realize I like the club in spite of him. You know he’s really full of himself, right? And he’s a dick,” he pointed out. Rosh nodded.

“Yeah, and he’s said sexist and racist things and he’s a diva,” she agreed. “But he’s also one of the greatest players of all time and he single-handedly put Sweden on the map.”

“Sure, but…” Wilhelm started. “Just because he’s good doesn’t mean he has to be a dick. I mean, he talks about himself in the third person, who does that?” 

Rosh snickered. “Yeah, I know, that’s always been so weird.”

“He just goes where the money is, and I get that you have to do that as a professional player, and any club would pay anything to get him, but… does that mean that he gets to be an asshole?”

“True. I guess he thinks he can get away with that precisely because he knows everyone wants him so bad and nobody ultimately cares that he’s an asshole, as long as he plays well.”

Wilhelm shook his head. “Personally, I think AC Milan is great with or without him, and so is the Men’s National team. And the Women’s National Team has done a better job of keeping us on the map without being divas.”

“You’re such a kiss-up. You do not watch Women’s football, no way.”

“Of course I do. It’s awesome. It’s less theatrical than men’s football. And our national team is great.”

“They haven’t even won a World Cup yet.”

“Neither have the Men’s team, and they’ve been around much longer, and they have Zlatan,” Wilhelm pointed out. “Just because they haven’t gotten a World Cup yet doesn’t mean that both teams are not great.”

Rosh hummed. “Good point.”

They both chuckled, and it dawned on Rosh that she was managing a normal conversation with him, about football. 

“So… can I come to your games?”

Rosh pretended to think long and hard on it before giving a resigned sigh. “Fine. But you better put on a costume, so nobody knows who you are.”

“I’ll dress up as a hot dog vendor.”

They both laughed. Oh god, they were laughing together… They were talking about football and they were laughing. 

“So, is football something that you think you might want to do professionally?” he asked. 

Rosh was taken aback. Nobody else had ever asked her that, other than Simon and Ayub, who more or less assumed that was her goal. They always talked about how it would be when she was a professional footballer, and which clubs she would love to be in, and whether she would invite them to all the big matches and the Euro Cup and the World Cup and et cetera, and whether she would talk about them in her memoirs. 

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

That was a lie. Of course she had thought it, of course she wanted to be a professional footballer. But wanting that and wanting to stay in Bjärstad were two incompatible ideas. 

“Well, maybe you should. You’re really good,” Wilhelm said, almost bashful. Rosh rolled her eyes at him.

Now you’re definitely just kissing up.”

“No, I actually think you’re good. You’re… a natural. And you seem to love it.” 

He was being earnest. He was always too earnest, it made her uncomfortable. Like that day when he showed up and basically told Simon that he was willing to give up the crown to be with him…

He was looking at her, like he was expecting her to answer. And she knew the answer.

“I do, yeah.”

She finally glanced over to see if Simon and Ayub were coming back, but they were still in Simon’s room. 

“Hey, thank you so much for coming today. I know that it was kind of a hassle, and I’m sorry about that, but I really appreciate that you could both come. I know it means a lot to Simon, and… it means a lot to me that we could make it happen.”

Ugh. He was doing it again, he was being all earnest and sincere and making things awkward. Rosh resisted making a face.

“Sure, no problem. Maybe next weekend we can plan something too?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.”

He bit his lip again, like he was thinking of what to say next. “I… I know that things got really messed up, so I’m really trying to make things better.” 

She nodded. “Mmm-hmm.”

“I’m not trying to be… Prince Charming.”

Rosh narrowed her eyes at him. “You little shit… you were listening in.”

He blushed, looking guilty and apologetic. “I wasn’t, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was going to the kitchen to help with the tea, and just overheard.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m glad to know that Simon has some really good people in his corner. And I hope… that you let me be in his corner too.”

She didn’t say anything. Had he been Simon, or had they known each other better, she would have put him in a headlock until he begged her to let go.

“You are so cheesy,” she said instead. He laughed. 

“Wow, you really don’t like me at all.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Finally, Simon and Ayub came back, chatting and sniggering about something. Rosh grabbed her things whilst Ayub put on his shoes and coat. Simon grinned at her. 

“Sorry for the holdup. Text me when you guys get home, please,” he said, hugging them in turn. “See you guys next week. If not before that.”

“For sure,” Ayub said, putting his helmet on. 

Rosh glanced back at Wilhelm.

“It’s in two weeks, by the way,” she announced. “Simon knows the date and time. Hopefully that’s enough time for you to get a costume and figure out how you two can go without paparazzi swarming the pitch?”

Wilhelm nodded. “Go Bjärstad.”

Simon looked curious and confused, and Rosh stuck her tongue out at him before putting on her helmet. 

As soon as they opened the door, the blonde bodyguard instructed Rosh and Ayub to follow her. The two of them waved goodbye before stepping out, and Rosh was once again grateful for her helmet visor; the flurry of camera flashes was definitely more blinding now. She sighed as she got on her motorcycle and turned the engine on. 

She wondered if the euphoria for the Crown Prince and his boyfriend would ever die down. She wondered if things would ever go back to normal. In the meantime, they had to accept the fact that they would have to maneuver their motorcycles around crowds of paparazzi just to see their friends. 

Notes:

Yes, Rosh basically just called Wille her friend.
The dialogue from Stranger Things is meant to foreshadow something in a future chapter (I’m not implying that Rosh has feelings for Simon, though, or anyone at the moment, that would be out of nowhere… I’m focused on just the friendship dynamic).
Actually, this chapter is full of foreshadowing for future chapters. Bear with me.
Watch me shamelessly plug the fact that we have the first Latina princess. The Princess of Liechtenstein was the first Black princess, way before Meghan, and also Latina. I also like that she has remained involved in the community and environment of the province where she was born. We stan her here.
I apologize beforehand, I know nothing about video games, and no amount of research helped me figure it out either.
As for football, I know about as much as a person who watches the World Cups every four years, so I know nothing about clubs and individual players. I genuinely thought Zlatan was like the best, until I did research and found out that he’s worse than Zava in Ted Lasso (who is literally based on Zlatan). But I have been looking forward to the Women’s FIFA World Cup in July (especially since my country is debuting!). I also found out that the 2027 Women’s World Cup might take place in the Nordic Countries (one of the strongest bids, along with South Africa), and I got a headcanon about Rosh becoming such a good football player that she debuts in the World Cup in her home country, and maybe even helping Sweden win their first World Cup ever. Maybe that’s in an upcoming chapter…
(In fact, that chapter might have been the very first headcanon that prompted me to start writing this fanfic.)

Chapter 13: Blue and Gold

Summary:

A FutureHC fic. Rosh is the star of the Swedish Women’s National Football team. She has some old friends cheering her on.
A collection of newspaper and online articles documenting Sweden’s journey in the FIFA Women’s World Cup Nordics 2027.

Notes:

This was the first random headcanon that actually prompted me to start writing this fic, in honor of the upcoming FIFA Women’s World Cup. Up until recently, there was interest from the Nordic countries to be joint hosts of the 2027 Women’s World Cup, but apparently it never became a thing. But in my YR fanfic universe within the YR universe, you bet that they bid and they won, and the Swedish National Team has Rosh, one of the youngest captains in history, and also famously one of the closest friends of Crown Prince Wilhelm and his fiancé Simon Eriksson, who are of course, as the heirs to the Swedish throne and global it couple, are among the central figures of the tournament.
All the links are fake, by the way. Just trying to make this look as much as collection of actual online articles as possible. I wish I could have added images, but I just don’t have the time. Maybe in the future…

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text


 

ROSH AND SWEDEN ADVANCE TO ROUND OF 16, FACE OFF AGAINST BRAZIL

By Johan Ek, Chief Football Correspondent at VK.se and Alexander Finn, live updates

23 July 2027 - 22:05

 

The Blågult take the first place in Group A and advance into the round of 16 at the FIFA Women’s World Cup Nordics 2027, becoming the first qualifying team in the bracket. With seven points in total and a four goal difference, the Swedes are undefeated in their group, one point ahead of China, who also advance to the next round. 

After tying 1-1 with China on Sunday’s World Cup opening match, Sweden went on to defeat New Zealand 2-1. At Friday’s match against Chile in Laugardalsvöllur stadium in Reykjavík, Iceland, Sweden won 4-1, with two goals by Rosh Borg, one by Stina Blackstenius and one by Sofia Jakobson. 

This has been a magnificent debut by Rosh, one of the youngest captains in this year’s World Cup, who gave stellar performances in all three matches. The Bjärstad native has become renowned for her celebratory dances, brazen footwork and candid personality. She scored twice and assisted Blackstenius in the closing goal against Chile’s La Roja Femenina. As the group phase closes, the young captain already has four goals under her belt.

Rosh and the Blågult are going head to head against Marta and the Brazil National Team, on Wednesday at 19:00, in Brøndby Stadium, in Brøndbyvester, Denmark.  

 

CLICK HERE FOR FULL GAME STATS ON THE SWEDISH NATIONAL TEAM MATCHES

 

Group A matches

Sweden vs. China - MATCH REPORT

Sweden vs. New Zealand - MATCH REPORT

Sweden vs. Chile - MATCH REPORT

 

PHOTO CAPTIONS:

Undefeated. Stina Blackstenius get an assist from Rosh to consolidate a win over Chile, and Sweden advance to the Round of 16. 

Player of the match. Swedish captain Rosh Borg scores the first goal of the match only ten minutes in, putting the ball past Chile’s goalkeeper and captain Christiane Endler. 

A strong start. Sweden’s head coach Peter Gerhardsson celebrates the Blue and Yellow’s early lead. 

 

VIDEO - CLICK FOR VIDEO

Alt Text: Rosh Borg celebrates her second goal against Chile by dancing in the sidelines, while her teammates rush up to celebrate with her. The crowd chants “Kom igen, Bjärstad, kom igen!” (“Come on, Bjärstad, come on!”) in honor of the Swedish captain’s hometown, a chant that was popularized by her close friends and former club teammates and supporters, including Simon Eriksson, fiancé to Sweden’s Crown Prince Wilhelm’s and long-time friend of Rosh and fellow former Bjärstad resident. In the video, Rosh’s mother and brother Kamilah and Oscar Borg celebrate with Rosh’s friends, Simon Eriksson, music producer DJ Ayub A, and Crown Prince Wilhelm, in the royal box.

 


 

What a Rosh! The Swedish Striker Leads Her Team to Quarterfinals with a 2-1 Win Against Brazil

By Elena Rydén, Football Correspondent, Aftonbladet.se

28 July 2027 - 19:59

 

Rosh vs Marta. Two of the biggest single-name figures in women’s football went head to head on Tuesday when Brazil and Sweden faced off during the round of 16, resulting in the Swedish team overpowering Brazil in the last ten minutes of the match, to break the tie and move on to quarterfinals. 

The match, which was held in Brøndby Stadium, in Brøndbyvester, Denmark, was even for the first twenty five minutes, until a goal from the Brazilian captain herself put Brazil in the lead. Sweden caught up in the first few minutes of second half of the match, with a goal from Sofia Jakobson. Both teams attacked relentlessly, each trying to gain the advantage, but it wasn’t until only ten minutes remained on the clock that the match was finally decided by a majestic goal by Rosh herself, with  assistance from Rebecka Blomqvist and Nathalie Björn. 

After taking the lead, it was a matter of defending the score, and goalkeeper Tove Enblom was still up to the challenge, with nine minutes still left on the clock and four additional minutes of stoppage time. 

At 23, Rosh is one of the youngest captains participating in the 2027 women’s world cup, whilst Marta is one of the oldest, at 41. 

Rosh and the Swedish Blågult (The Blue and Yellow) will be facing off against England’s Leah Williamson and the Lionesses for a place in the semifinals. Click here for the latest updates of the match schedules.

 

PHOTO CAPTION:

Oh Captain My Captain! Rosh Borg, who is commonly referred to as simply Rosh both by family and friends as well as her fans, is one of the youngest captains in this tournament, but her age has not stopped the striker from making a strong World Cup debut. 

 


 

A Royal Visit. The Swedish Crown Prince and His Fiancé Congratulate their National Team

Anna Petersson for TheLocal.se - 28 July 2027 - 21:15

 

Crown Prince Wilhelm of Sweden and his fiancé, Simon Eriksson, as well as some friends, stopped by the locker rooms after Sweden’s big win against Brazil on Tuesday.

The Blågult welcomed their young princes to join in on the celebration, where the players, princes and their friends were recorded on video and shared to social media singing the chorus that has become the Swedish team’s football anthem, ‘Champion’ by Swedish musician Graham Lake.

Royal protocol was kept to a bare minimum as the princes congratulated the women and expressed their euphoria at the team’s excellent performance during the match. They shared special words of encouragement for their next match against England during the quarterfinals. Prior to the match, the royal couple had also stopped by briefly to wish the players luck, and posed for pictures with the team. 

The Crown Prince, Mr. Eriksson and their friends have notably attended every single one of the Swedish National Team’s matches. Sweden’s captain Rosh Borg, famously known simply as Rosh, is well-known for being long-time friends with both the Crown Prince and his fiancé Simon. She grew up with Simon in Bjärstad, and was already close friends with him when he began his relationship with Prince Wilhelm. 

“We are so proud of Rosh and of all the players, they’ve been incredible in this competition,” Simon expressed during a brief interview after the locker room celebration. “They’ve really made Sweden proud.”

The Crown Prince and Simon have been lauded by the press as feminists for their involvement in the Women’s World Cup, once it was announced that it would be taking place in the Nordic Countries in alliance. One of their goals from the beginning was to speak out against the inequalities between the Men’s and Women’s World Cup, and to show their support and promotion of the tournament, even before Team Sweden had secured a place in it. 

“I’m so grateful for having the chance to debut in a world cup in my home country, and I’m especially grateful for having the support of my family and friends during it,” Rosh said to journalists during the press conference following the match and the royal visit to the locker rooms. “It’s very special to have the princes here showing their support. I love those two knuckleheads. I get to call them that because I’ve known them for so long,” she laughed. 

For his part, head coach Peter Gerhardsson stated during the conference that the team has been playing their absolute best. “We are more than ready to take on England,” he stated. “We are ready to make it all the way to the end of the tournament.”

 

PHOTO CAPTIONS

Top, left to right: Anna Anvegård, Rebecka Blomqvist, Crown Prince Wilhelm, team captain Rosh Borg, Simon Eriksson, Stina Blackstenius, Julia Zigiotti Olme and Anna Sandberg.

Bottom, left to right: Goalkeepers Tove Enblom and Jennifer Falk, Jonna Andersson, Hanna Lundkvist, Nathalie Björn, Emma Kullberg, vice-captain Kosovare Asllani, Matilda Vinberg and Hanna Bennison.

Blue and Yellow. Crown Prince Wilhelm and fiancé Simon Eriksson wear honorary Blågult kit shirts with their names on the back, gifted to them by the Swedish Football Association; HRH Wille and HRH Simon proudly point to their respective numbers in the back. 

From left to right: Also in attendance to the Swedish match are Rosh’s mother and brother, Kamilah and Oscar Borg, music producer and long-time friend of Simon and Rosh, DJ Ayub A, Simon’s sister Sara Eriksson and mother Linda Eriksson, as well as former Hillerska classmates and close friends Felice Ehrenchrona and Madison McCoy.

 


 

SWEDEN DEFEAT ENGLAND 3-2, TAKES A SPOT IN THE SEMIFINALS

By Elena Svensson, Football Correspondent at VK.se

07 August 2027 - 20:10

 

The match of the day was undoubtedly the showdown between Sweden and England, an intense showdown that ended with a 3-2 victory by Sweden, scoring the winning goal dangerously near the 90-minute mark.

Perhaps they had the advantage of playing in home turf, as the match took place in Eleda Stadion in Malmö, Sweden, but the Blågult played to win, catching up to England, who maintained ball possession during the first half and gained a 2-1 advantage before the half-time. But for the second half, Sweden returned with renewed energy, and took control, going on to score two more goals to secure a pass into the semifinals.

Goalkeeper Tove Enblom was the player of the match, blocking any possibility for England to regain advantage. After Stina Blackstenius’s opening goal in minute 22 of the first half, the heroes of the second half were Sofia Jakobson and Rosh, who scored a goal each with each other’s assistance, renewing the home crowd’s hopes of making it all the way to the final.  

For their part, Williamson scored both goals for England, the second one being a penalty after a fault by striker Kosovare Asllani in the penalty area. But the Lionesses were unable to regain control of the ball after that, being completely shut down by the Blue and Yellow in the second half.

Sweden will be up against the winner in the upcoming match between Norway and Netherlands on Wednesday, 11 August at 18:00.

 

PHOTO CAPTIONS:

Costly mistake. Sweden striker Kosovare Asllani faults captain Leah Williamson in the penalty area, and is yellow-carded. Williamson was awarded a penalty, which put England ahead 2-1 in the first half of the game. 

Neatly tied. Sofia Jakobson scores a majestic goal with assist from Rosh and Hanna Lundkvist, to tie the game 2-2.

A Rosh to the finish line. At the 85 minute mark, captain Rosh scored the goal that secured Sweden’s victory.

Royal spectators. The match was attended by both Sweden’s Crown Prince Wilhelm and his fiancé Simon Eriksson, as well as Prince William of Wales, Princess Catherine of Wales, and their eldest son and daughter Prince George and Princess Charlotte. 

Coaches. England’s head coach Phil Neville and Sweden’s head coach Peter Gerhardsson shake hands at the end of the match. 

 


 

NORDIC SHOWDOWN

Host countries Sweden and Norway battle it out for a spot in the final

 

Trent Crimm, TheIndependent.co.uk

08 August 2027 - 06:30

 

Down to the last two home teams, Sweden will be facing off against Norway this Wednesday at Finnair Stadium in Helsinki, Finland, during the semifinals of the FIFA Women’s World Cup Nordics 2027.

After defeating England in an intense match that nearly went overtime, Sweden awaited for the results of the match between Norway and Netherlands, to find out which team they would be facing off in semifinals. 

Despite the Netherlands being hailed as one of the toughest teams in this World Cup, Norway outperformed them with a 3-1 win, shutting down the Oranje at Gamla Ullevi stadium in Gothenburg, Sweden. Midfielder Thea Bjelde scored the second goal, and forward Anna Jøsendal was the author of the other two, with assistance from captain and defender Maren Mjeden in all three occasions. 

The Norwegian Women’s team, known as the Gresshoppene (Grasshoppers), last became World Champions in 1995, when Sweden was hosting. Meanwhile, Sweden is hoping to lift up the World Cup for the very first time. The rivalry between the two football teams has been the stuff of legends, with both nations becoming quite evenly matched in the last decade. Their last duel was during the 2026 UEFA Euro Cup, in which Norway defeated Sweden in quarterfinals, but lost during the semifinals. 

This will be the first time that captain Rosh Borg faces off against one of Sweden’s most formidable foes. 

“I have complete confidence that we have the tactical ability to outperform Norway,” Gerhardsson stated. 

“I look forward to doing my best to represent my country,” Rosh said during the press conference. “I think they are incredible, but I am up for the challenge.”

At the same time, in Brøndby Stadium, in Brøndbyvester, Denmark, the United States will be playing against Japan for a chance to reclaim the World Cup, after losing in the 2023 final to Germany.

 


 

Sweden Soars into the Final, against Team USA

By Henrik Gustavsson, Sports Correspondent, Aftonbladet.se

11 August 2027 - 19:59

 

VIKING BATTLE. Sweden defeated their neighbors Norway in a intense match that encroached on overtime, as the Blue and Yellow gave their all for a chance to win their first World Cup. 

Norwegian captain Maren Mjeden and Swedish captain Rosh led their teams as they went head to head at Finnair Stadium in Helsinki, Finland, for a dramatic match.

The two teams were pretty evenly matched, maintaining a 1-1 tie for the entire first half. Norway’s first goal came in the 18 minute mark courtesy of Anna Jøsendal, but Sweden quickly caught up only five minutes later with a goal by Jonna Andersson. Althought both teams threatened plenty of times, neither scored again until the 76-minute mark, when Stina Blackstenius delivered the match-winning goal with assistance by Rosh and Matilda Vinberg.

It seemed that Norway might have caught up again during stoppage time, with a score by Emilie Haavi, but after much debate and VAR analysis it was determined that there was an offside. 

When the final whistle sounded, team Sweden promptly rushed the field in a state of euphoria, having secured their pass to the final. This is only the second time in the Women’s team history that the Blågult have made it to the final, since the 2003 World Cup match against Germany, where Sweden came in as runner-ups. 

Team USA won 3-1 in the semifinal match against Japan, moving on to the final as well. The fight for the World cup will be a showdown between the youngest captain, Rosh, and the oldest and most experienced, Megan Rapinoe of Team USA.

Final score: Sweden 2 - Norway 1 WATCH THE MATCH HIGHLIGHTS

 

PHOTO CAPTIONS:

Golden Boot. Stina Blackstenius delivers the match-wining goal in the 76 minute mark. The Swedish forward is on the running for the Golden Boot award at the end of the tournament, rivaled only by Team USA’s Alex Morgan, and by her own teammate and captain Rosh Borg. 

Royal showdown. Princess Ingrid Alexandra of Norway with Crown Prince Wilhelm of Sweden and his fiancé Simon Eriksson in the royal box, during the Norway vs Sweden match; the young royals are all 23 years old and have been proudly representative of their respective nations throughout the sporting event co-hosted by all the Nordic countries.

 


 

BLUE AND GOLD! SWEDEN IS CROWNED WORLD CUP CHAMPIONS

Svenskfotboll.se - 15 August 2027, 21:23

 

In a historic moment, Sweden has won its very first World Cup. 

The Swedish Women’s National Team played an intense game against two-time champions U.S.A., for a nail-biting final in Ullevaal Stadion in Oslo, Norway.

Sweden’s win was not without drama and tension, as the match went into overtime and then penalty shootout. During the grueling 90 minutes of the match, the USA team managed two goals in the first half, courtesy of Megan Rapinoe and Alex Morgan, but in the second half Rosh and Sofia Jakobson each kicked a goal back to back in the first twenty minutes, to even out the scoreboard. The Swedes defended the tie with everything they had, with goalkeeper Tove Enblom blocking two very close attempts from Team USA. 

As the clock ran out and the two teams faced the inevitable penalty round, tension grew in the stands. Sweden won the coin toss and decided to kick second. For both teams, their captains led the way. Rapinoe, who has been in many a penalty shootout throughout her career, was cool as a cucumber with an easy start. But Sweden’s Rosh looked confident, and delivering an excellent goal into the upper right corner, which she celebrated with a classic Rosh dance. 

After goalkeeper Tove Enblom managed to block a seemingly unstoppable kick from star-striker Alex Morgan, the final penalty came down to Stina Blackstenius, who did not disappoint. USA goalkeeper Alyssa Naeher was not able to catch the rocket launched by Blackstenius into the top left corner, cinching the victory for the Blue and Yellow. 

Final score: 2-2, 5-4 penalties

The sound of champions

Sweden’s first World Cup win was a big celebration, as one of the home teams of the Nordics 2027 tournament. 

Attending the final were Crown Prince Wilhelm of Sweden and his fiancé Simon Eriksson, who acted as representatives of their home country, and were on the stage for the trophy ceremony. The princes, who are famously close friends with Rosh, were visibly euphoric at the victory, having attended every Sweden match and been able to watch the entire journey of their friend in the competition. Despite maintaining decorum at the beginning of the match, they were unable to contain their excitement at every goal scored by the team, and especially as they performed flawlessly during the nerve-wrecking penalty shootout. 

U.S.A. President Kamala Harris and her family was also in attendance from the royal box, and congratulated the young princes on their countries historic victory and an excellent game. Swedish Prime Minister Magdalena Andersson was also in the royal box.

As the stage was prepared for the trophy ceremony, the Crown Prince and Simon, along with Prime Minister Andersson and President Harris, made their way to the field, and were able to personally congratulate the teams on their performances. Fatma Samoura, President of FIFA, and Karl Erik Nilsson, President of the Swedish Football Association, were also in hand for the award ceremony. 

Rosh was awarded the golden football, whilst Alex Morgan received the golden boot, and Tove Enblom got the golden glove. 

After awarding medals to each of the referees in the match, they presented the bronze medals to the Japan team players, who won the third place match against Norway, and then the silver medals to the United States Team; the 2011 Women’s World Cup was the last time that Japan and USA shared the stage, where Japan was the winning team. This is also the second time that Sweden has come on top of the USA, as they were runner-ups in the 2003 World Cup and USA got third place. 

As the Blågult received their gold medals and took center stage, it was Crown Prince Wilhelm and Simon who were given the honor of presenting the team with the trophy, exchanging hugs with Rosh as they handed it to her. The young captain then held the cup aloft for the front page picture, as confetti rained down on the field. 

“This is probably the best moment of my life, but I do hope it’s not the only highlight of my career. I feel like I’m way too young for me to peak now. I hope that I can wear this uniform again and help lead my team into many more Championships, all the way to first place. I’m certain that we all played our best today and made our country proud, and that we’ll be back many more times to do it again,” Rosh said in the post-ceremony interview. 

When asked what it felt like to have her friends Simon and Crown Prince Wilhelm right there with her, Rosh laughed. “They’re just trying to steal my thunder,” she said, before shaking her head with a wide smile. “I’m joking, of course. If there’s one thing that made this moment even better was knowing that my family and friends were here, cheering us on, and having those two right up there with me made it even more surreal. I love them, and I know they are as proud of me as I am of them.”

“The first time I met Rosh, it was at one of her football matches with a local Bjärstad club. We were all sixteen back then, Simon invited me to come along, and I got to cheer for her from the sidelines. And now I can’t believe I got to cheer for her during her World Cup debut, all the way to the final, and I got to be the one to hand her the World Cup. It’s surreal,” Crown Prince Wilhelm said during the celebration after the game. “I knew she would get very far, I knew she was a star from the moment I saw her, and I’m so happy that we get to be here and watch her make history.”

“If you had told me seven years ago, back when we were sixteen, that I’d be watching one of my best friends win the World Cup, I absolutely would have believed you, no doubt about it,” an ecstatic Simon Eriksson declared. “As soon as Rosh started chasing her dream of becoming a professional football player, I knew that the women’s national team was going to win a World Cup with her help. But it’s still unbelievable. I’m so happy and proud of her.”

Sweden Head Coach Peter Gerhardsson was in hand to comment as well. “This is not the last time that Sweden will be in a World Cup final,” he said. “We have an excellent team, we have young players, we have experienced players, we have the unstoppable Rosh, and as they demonstrated today, that is the winning formula.”

 

PHOTO CAPTIONS:

Blue and Yellow and Gold. Team captain Rosh holds up the golden Cup as the Swedish team celebrates their first world title.  

In control. Sweden players huddle together during the penalty shootout. 

The winning goal. Blackstenius delivers a powerful kick past Naeher’s hands, for the victory-cinching penalty. 

Golden moment. Sweden’s Crown Prince Wilhelm and fiancé Simon Eriksson were granted the honor of congratulating and presenting the Cup to captain Rosh.  

 

WATCH THE FINAL MATCH HIGHLIGHTS

WATCH THE FULL AWARD CEREMONY

WATCH THE POST-GAME PRESS CONFERENCE

FULL MATCH REPORT

FULL AWARDS LIST

 


 

Notes:

Can you tell that I used to work at a newspaper? Not in the sports section, though.
Can you tell that I totally wanted to use the words “young royals”? And I’m gonna keep doing it.
Can you tell that I couldn’t resist having Trent Crimm, The Independent write up one of the articles because I’m a massive Ted Lasso fan and I’m sad that it’s over? If you listen really hard, you can hear it in his own voice. (I’m convinced that some years down the road, after working on the fictional AFC Richmond book and becoming a best-selling author, he sometimes writes pieces for the fictional version of The Independent, including covering the fictional FIFA Women’s World Cup Nordics 2027).

Chapter 14: Guilty

Summary:

Sara finally gets Simon to listen to her; she was unprepared for what happened.
Sara POV.

Notes:

Gah, we’re still trapped in the same weekend… will it ever end? (Not for another chapter, no).
The plot thickens, though. A lot.
TW: mildly graphic depiction of vomiting, mentions of alcohol and substance use, mention of suicide.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sara sat on her bed, static, listening. Her room was dark, since she hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights.

Her curtains were drawn now all the time, mostly because of the photographers and journalists lurking outside at any given time of day. But even when there was no one, during the week, she didn’t bother to open them either. 

She skipped dinner, partly so that she wouldn’t have to sit at the table with them. She wasn’t hungry anyway. And she felt sick; she always felt sick these days.

It was exactly a week since she moved back home, exactly a week since everything had changed.

It was also exactly a week since she had made that phone call, thinking she was doing the right thing.

She had been unable to think about anything else all week.

How could she have let this happen? How did she let it get to that point?

She basically set her life on fire. All because of a place in a boarding house. All because of a boy. 

And now she was an outcast at Hillerska. She had no idea what would happen to her grant and her spot at Manor House, and she was afraid to find out. So she lied to her mother, finally telling her that there had been a problem with the funding for the grant and the school board was trying to resolve it, but that she couldn’t board at Manor House in the meantime, and there was a chance that she might not be able to go back for the rest of term, and that she had been too upset to explain before… And she really hoped that she had convinced her. There was no way she could explain to Linda what really happened. 

She couldn’t switch schools either, because her only other viable option was Marieberg, and she vowed never to go back there. And she couldn’t quit school, because it was important for her to graduate; and Hillerska provided opportunities that she wouldn’t get anywhere else. Even if she was an outcast.

So she continued going to Hillerska; a place where everyone knew what she had done, or at least parts of it, and they talked and gossiped about her behind her back, where her friends ignored her, where the boy she had feelings for seemed like he had moved on, where her own brother acted like she didn’t exist. 

She couldn’t quit. If she did, she would be running away from her problems. 

She had put up with shit her entire life, and she wasn’t doing it anymore. 

She had to see this through; she still had to make things right. 

Not for her, but for Simon. 

But no matter how many times she tried to talk to Simon, he refused to listen to her. He had been doing a pretty good job of avoiding her. The way he looked at her, the way he walked away from her every time, it stung. Even though she knew it was her fault.

Maybe she should leave him alone, maybe it was best to let him calm down. Things were too recent, too fresh, and he had too many things going on.

But she had to talk to him, he needed to listen to her. 

She waited until Ayub and Rosh had left. Simon refused to talk to her anyway, at least whilst they were there. Even though they probably knew what it was about; Sara was sure that they were the only people that Simon trusted to tell the full story. She knew, because of the way Rosh stared at her earlier, because of her sympathetic tone.

She didn’t want her sympathy. She didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. 

She just wanted a chance to explain herself, and make things right.

She needed to get Simon alone.

It was seven o’clock. They would be leaving in an hour, to go back to Forest Ridge. She couldn’t wait any longer.

Their voices floated from the kitchen. Simon was doing the dishes and Wilhelm was either helping him or accompanying him, talking. She could hear them joking and laughing.

She could hear her mother talking with them, then walking off.

If Sara was going to do it, she had to do it now.

Still, she was afraid of talking to him.

But she was even more afraid of not talking to him. And soon. 

She peeked out her door. In the kitchen, Simon was drying his hands, having finished the dishes. Linda was nowhere in sight. Simon and Wilhelm were laughing about something, heading back to Simon’s room.

“If you think you’re keeping my hoodie, you are sorely mistaken-”

Sara threw the door open and rushed out in front of them, startling them both.

“Simon, could I talk to you for a moment, please?” Sara said, her voice strained. 

Disbelief etched on Simon’s face, he glanced around to make sure that Linda wasn’t nearby. He took a deep breath and looked at Wilhelm. Wilhelm gave a little shrug and gestured toward the front door. 

“I have to talk to Malin and Joakim, anyway, so…” Wilhelm said, stepping back. 

Simon fixed Sara with an icy stare. “Fine,” he said, blinking slowly. He hesitated before walking toward his room. Sara followed closely, in case he might change his mind. He opened the door and gestured for her to come in. 

Two bags lay open on the bed, one of them Wilhelm’s, and there was a pile of folded clothes beside them. Simon was packing for the rest of the week at Forest Ridge. Sara hadn’t even unpacked her own bags, just threw them in the corner and forgot about them, only going through them when she needed something. Her mother had scolded her about it several times, but she couldn’t be bothered. 

Maybe a part of her still wished to go back to Manor House, even if she wasn’t welcome. 

Simon closed the door and stood there, arms crossed, staring at her. 

“Can I sit here?” she asked, pointing at the desk chair. She really didn’t like that chair, it was old and wobbly, but she didn’t want to sit on Simon’s bed. It felt too much like invading his space. That space was now Wilhelm’s too. 

Simon rolled his eyes. “Do whatever you want, but hurry up. We need to finish packing, we have to go soon.”

’We’ as in him and Wilhelm. It was the two of them now, always. 

Sara didn’t sit. She couldn’t look at him in the face. 

“I really, really need to tell you something, but I…”

Simon sighed again. “You know, I’ve already had enough of your excuses, so maybe-”

“It’s not, no. I’m not here to apologize again,” she interrupted. “I need to tell you something else. Something really urgent.”

“What?” He looked exasperated. 

Sara hesitated. She never thought her own brother would look at her with such contempt all the time. 

“Please don’t be mad at me,” she said, her voice small. He shook his head.

“Too late for that.”

“No, I mean now… please don’t be mad… I was only trying to help.”

The contemptuous sneer was replaced with a confused frown.

“What did you do?”

Sara felt her chest constrain. She had his attention. She had to say it.

“I called the police… I made a report…”

His face blanched. 

“You… you what…?”

She gulped. “I was only trying to-”

“Fuck, Sara!” he said in a loud hiss. “You had no right… this was not for you to do.” 

His eyes were wide, his mouth open in disbelief.

Her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry.” 

“When did you do this?”

“Last Sunday,” she answered, her voice smaller and smaller. “I was on my way home, and I called the station.” 

She should have waited to get home. She should have asked Simon. She should have done many things. She had talked on the phone non-stop to the operator in the police station taking down her information, talking about the video. She talked on the bus and continued talking even when she got off at the bus stop and all the way home. And not once did it occur to her that she was messing things up even more.

Until she was home, and Simon came back, and there were photographers outside, and all the curtains and shades had to be closed. 

And she had been too scared to ask him. She heard Simon crying in his room, Linda comforting him. Her mother bombarded her with questions, about what had prompted her to move back, why she and Simon weren’t talking, and what they were going to do now. 

And all Sara could think about was the flood of news articles and social media posts and videos and photos and TV news reports talking about it. About the jubilee speech. 

Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know that Wille would say that in his speech… I didn’t know he would confirm it was him in the video… I was just trying to help you…”

Simon pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, his breathing heavy. 

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them what I saw. I told them that… that the viral video was of my brother, who is only sixteen, and that I saw the one who posted it to the Internet. I told them that I confronted him, and confirmed it was him who did it, but that I didn’t have any proof… I just told them what they asked. They took down all my information.”

His eyes were wide, horrified.

“Did you tell them it was August?”

“Yes.”

“You told them…”

Simon started trembling, his chest heaving with rapid breaths, lips parted, eyes slightly wide. 

“Simon?” Sara asked. He looked like he was about to faint or something.  

There was a soft knock on the door just then. Wilhelm poked his head in.

“Hey, I’m sorry for interrupting but… Simon?”

Simon pushed past him, out of the room and rushed into the bathroom. Sara and Wilhelm looked at each other, until they heard the retching sounds. Wilhelm ran after him and into the bathroom. 

Sara walked after them on trembling legs, and stood outside the door. Simon was slumped on the floor beside the toilet, arms clutching at the sides of the bowl, heaving into it, whilst Wilhelm knelt beside him, a comforting hand on his back, stroking him softly. 

“Close the door,” he instructed Sara. She quickly stepped inside and shut the door, then grabbed the glass by the sink and filled it with water. She gestured for Wilhelm to grab it. He offered it to Simon.

“Here.” 

Simon was breathing heavily, eyes closed, hovering over the bowl. He grabbed the glass with shaking hands and took a sip of water, rinsing his mouth and spitting into the toilet. He reached up to pull the seat and lid down, then flushed and sat back against the wall. 

“You okay?” Wilhelm asked. Simon took another sip of water, drinking carefully, still shaking and looking very sick. He shook his head.

“What happened?” Wilhelm asked, looking from Simon to Sara. Simon glanced up at Sara.

“We need to talk,” he said. “All of us.”

Sara closed the door to Simon’s room quietly. Wilhelm half-carried Simon back to his room, after helping him up, but once there, he tried to coax Simon to sit or lie down or something, hurriedly pushing the bags and clothes to one side to make room. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Simon protested. “You need to sit down.”

Wilhelm obediently sat on the edge of the mattress. Sara sat down on the desk chair, hands clutched together in her lap.  

She could hear her mother’s voice somewhere in the house as she talked on the phone in Spanish, so she was probably talking to someone in the family. 

“What happened?” Wilhelm asked, looking between the two siblings. Sara watched as Simon paced around the room, still looking a bit pale, the glass of water clutched in his hand.

Wilhelm sighed when neither answered. 

“Simon, maybe you should sit down. You’ll make yourself sick again.”

Simon stopped in his tracks and turned to him.

“Sara reported August to the police.”

Instantly, the color drained from Wilhelm’s already pale complexion. Wide eyes darted between Simon and Sara, his lips parted slightly in disbelief. He looked terrified. It felt like a long time before he said anything else.

“When?”

Sara swallowed hard before answering. “Last Sunday.”

Simon started pacing again. Wilhelm looked down at the floor, eyes still darting around. 

“What did you say to them?”

Sara bit her lip. As much as it had scared her to tell her own brother, it scared her even more to think how Wilhelm might react. After last Saturday, she was terrified of him; seeing how angry he got, how he pointed a gun at August, how he lost control and started yelling and even fired a gunshot into the air. Sara didn’t know him well enough to know if he might be capable of actually doing what he was threatening to do.

“Sara, tell him,” Simon commanded. 

Her knuckles turned white because of how tightly she was squeezing her hands together. 

She started explaining, repeating what she had already told Simon, speaking slowly, so much that Simon interrupted her constantly to fill in the blanks, get to the point. 

Wilhelm looked like he might be sick too. He started breathing harder. Simon stopped pacing and sat beside him, grabbing his hand and putting an arm around his shoulders. Immediately, Wilhelm took a deep, trembling breath through his nose, and then another, and so on until his breathing returned to normal. 

“Wait… why…” Wilhelm started, “why haven’t we been contacted then?”

Sara blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“If you made that report, and they know at this point that the other person in the video is me… how come I haven’t heard about it?”

“How would they contact you if they don’t have your information? I didn’t give it to them.”

Wilhelm shook his head. “I don’t mean the police, I mean the Royal Court. They would’ve gotten wind of this by now, from the police. I would have gotten a call about this by now. Or at least I think so.”

Simon stared at Sara. “Do you know what’s going on with the report?” 

“Um, well… they asked me if the people involved knew that I was making a report, and I said no. I asked them if I needed to confirm with the… with the victims, and they said no, that they can contact them directly. I got nervous and told them I needed to check before giving them anyone’s contact information. And I said I would try to get proof or another person’s statement, and… they told me to get back to them as soon as I had that. And then I saw the speech and the news and… and everything… and I just haven’t called them back, but they also haven’t called me back.”

Wilhelm let out a long breath. “Then maybe they haven’t done anything with it yet. But they might start investigating soon, even if you haven’t called them back.”

“Is that how that works?” Simon asked. 

“I have no idea,” Wilhelm said. He sighed. “Sara… You can’t finish that report.”

Sara nodded. “Okay, but… why not?”

“You just can’t, okay?” Simon snapped. Sara’s shoulders slumped in frustration.

“But I thought this is what you wanted.”

He shook his head. “I know… but… we can’t… I can’t report August.”

“Why not? Because it would become a scandal?”

“Yes. But that’s only one of the reasons.”

“But you said… you wanted to… I thought this was the right thing to do… I was trying to do the right thing.”

“No, you were trying to absolve yourself from what you did,” Simon argued. 

“Because… because I care about you,” she replied, bottom lip quivering. “And because I’m sorry, because I didn’t really think of how much this would hurt you.”

Simon threw up his hands. “How could you not have known this would hurt me? You’re my sister. I thought I could trust you. And you protected someone else.”

Sara tried to remain calm, tried to contain the tears threatening to spill.

“I don’t care about August anymore. I don’t care if you report him. That’s why I tried to do it myself.”

Simon rubbed his eyes. “But I do. It’s not about him. It’s about you, and me and Wille. It could all go to shit if we do.”

“Why?” She was really confused now. Simon had been so bent over backwards over not knowing who had posted the video, who had recorded them, his privacy disappeared, his whole life was thrown into chaos, and he was heartbroken over Wilhelm’s denial. And he had been so determined to go to the police station once he found out it was August. And now… now what? She had hoped that August would do the right thing, she had failed to do the right thing herself, but here was the chance to amend that, and they couldn’t just let August get away with it. 

She never should have talked to him, she never should have fallen for him… he was only looking out for himself. 

How could she have been so stupid?

Simon glanced at Wilhelm, who was staring off into space. 

“Wille?” he said softly. 

Wilhelm seemed to snap out of a trance, and turned to Simon. 

“Can we talk for a moment?” 

Sara sat in the yellowish glow of the fish tank, staring at the fish swimming from side to side, almost hypnotized. Wilhelm and Simon were in the kitchen, talking. She waited. 

She was scared, she felt sick.

It probably had to do with the Royal Court, she thought. It probably had to do with how it would become an even bigger scandal, that the Crown Prince’s own cousin had recorded him having sex and posted it online. They probably didn’t want that, now that everyone knew that it was indeed Wilhelm on the video. They wouldn’t want that to become the focus of the story now. 

But after that speech, wouldn’t people continue to try to find out who did it? 

Or maybe it had something to do with August being told that he was Wilhelm’s backup. 

It felt like they talked for a long time. She could hear their voices, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying, even when they left the door open. She didn’t want to eavesdrop either, she had gotten into enough trouble snooping around. 

Just one of the many things that she done and that she was not proud of. Especially since it cost her the person she cared about the most. 

They reappeared suddenly, startling her. Simon closed the door softly behind him. Wilhelm sat down on the bed, but Simon remained standing. In the dim light, Sara noticed that his eyes were red, like he had been crying. 

“I was telling Wille about our family history,” he said. “About dad and… everything…”

Sara glanced at Wilhelm, then back at her brother. She was confused as to why they had to talk about it in private, but part of her was glad, she didn’t like revisiting all that. She didn’t like talking about Micke at all. 

“Okay…” she said. “But… what does that have to do with anything?”

“I never told him about it. Not the full story. I guess… I didn’t want him to know, not yet at least, but… I needed him to know to be able to explain this.”

“Explain what?”

Simon took a deep breath and started talking. He talked for about ten minutes, non-stop, detailing what had happened from the day that August asked him to get the alcohol for Wilhelm’s initiation party, and inviting him and Sara in exchange, despite not being residents; how he tried to find someone else for the party booze, but his father was his only choice. How visiting Micke was supposed to be a one time thing, a simple business transaction. How he approached August several times, but the smug asshole wouldn’t pay him. How Simon asked Rosh and Ayub to help him confront August, until August confessed to being broke. And about how Simon really needed the money to pay for the private tutoring bill, so he had to make money fast, and the only idea that he got was to go back to Micke’s and take some of his meds to give to August to sell. How August payed him back by dealing the drugs to other students, but he also used the drugs for a private party. 

Wilhelm interjected to clarify that the party was to introduce him into the Society, explaining that it was a secret group made up of noble boys, and that he was only invited because his brother had been a part of it; that Alexander Bragé got caught with some of the drugs after the party and got suspended, and threatened to snitch on all of them if they didn’t protect him; that it had been August’s idea to make Simon the scapegoat, since he had provided the drugs and they could easily pin them on him; that Wilhelm confronted Simon about it and Simon revealed August being broke; that Wilhelm convinced his mother to help August so he could remain at Hillerska, but he also revealed August’s financial situation to the Society to undermine him, and convince them to let Alexander take the fall instead of Simon; that August leaked the video to get revenge on both him and Simon, prior to knowing what Wilhelm had done for him; and that the Royal Court covered up August’s involvement to avoid a bigger scandal.

Simon explained that August decided to use the drugs to blackmail them so that Simon wouldn’t report him to the police, whilst convincing Alexander to be the scapegoat for the video too, and they had no choice but to give in. And Wilhelm said that he changed his speech in part to stop August from messing with them, but also to make sure that the Royal Court could not keep him and Simon apart anymore, and that they would protect Simon too. 

Once they finished talking, Simon just stood there, arms crossed. He looked at Wilhelm first, a tiny relieved smile on his face, like he had just gotten a heavy weight off his chest. Then he looked at Sara, waiting for her to say something.

Sara couldn’t speak for a couple of minutes, trying to absorb all the information, feeling angrier by the second. 

“This is why you were in contact with dad? To get alcohol and drugs from him?” she asked in an accusing tone. Simon glared at her.

“Did you hear anything we said? August threatened to go to the police himself and accuse me of dealing, to save his own ass. And he manipulated Alexander into taking the fall for the video. It was all August, he’s a fucking psychopath, he’s been behind everything. It was August who-”

Sara shook her head. “August didn’t go into dad’s house to steal the drugs, did he? You did, you gave them to him.”

Simon uncrossed his arms and his hands flew up to his face, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I know I made a mistake… I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You could have said no to August in the first place. When he first came up to you.”

“I was going to, but when he said he’d invite us, I thought about it. I didn’t think he’d fucking trick me!” he hissed loudly. “I just wanted you to be able to go to the party, everyone was going, I didn’t want you to feel left out. They don’t invite nonresidents because they’re a bunch of elitist pricks.”

“So that was all because of me.”

“Basically yes.”

“Bullshit. You wanted to go to the party yourself, didn’t you? To see Wille.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Maybe that was part of it, yeah. But I knew you wanted to make friends. You know I hate parties, but if you go, I go. I just wanted you to have a good time.”

“Stop. You can’t use me as an excuse all the time, pretending that you’re doing things for my benefit.”

“I was. I should have though it through, I never though that August wouldn’t follow through with his other part of the deal. He was supposed to have money, and it turned out he didn’t. That’s why he didn’t get the alcohol himself, it was his plan all along to rip me off.”

Sara sneered at him. “What about the drugs? You stole them from dad? What the fuck, Simon?”

Simon shushed her and glanced at the door. Sara almost didn’t care that her voice was going up. She was too angry.

“Listen, I was desperate and I wasn’t thinking straight. I needed to sort out the money situation.”

“Ugh, Simon! You’re just making excuse after excuse, but the bottomline is you contacted dad, after we promised to each other we wouldn’t have anything to do with him anymore. You’re always giving people a second chance, even when they don’t deserve it.”

“I wasn’t doing to give him another chance, it was a business transaction. But you know how he is, he got… hopeful… even though I told him not to contact you-” 

“That’s right. We both know how he is. You of all people know what it was like with him. I never wanted to see him again, and you brought him back.” Sara felt hot tears pooling in her eyes. “You’ve buried yourself in shit and you have the audacity to accuse me of betraying you, when you created this whole problem on your own. You betrayed me first.”

“I didn’t actively do it to hurt you, Sara. I was actually trying to keep you out of the situation.” 

“What does that even mean?”

“I was protecting you!” Simon nearly shouted, and something about his own words took him by surprise. He glanced at Wilhelm before looking down at the floor. 

Sara stared at him in disbelief. “Protecting me from what?” 

“From August,” Simon said. “He clearly saw an easy target in you.”

She shook her head. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Last year, in the library? He was asking you about your ADHD meds, remember? He was obviously going to manipulate you into getting him your meds, because he’s probably an addict. And I stopped him. I told him to stay away from you. But I knew he would try again. Because he’s a manipulative asshole.”

“So you got him dad’s drugs?” 

Simon bit his lip, breathing hard. 

“Yes,” he said miserably, “but only enough to get him to leave you alone. I didn’t know he wouldn’t pay me for those either.”

Sara ran her hands through her hair.

“Are you listening to yourself? You make me out to be some sort of dumb, naïve idiot, but this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done-” 

“I know…”

“You gave August dad’s drugs. And now you’re in deep shit because of it. You’re not better than me.”

Simon shushed her again. 

“I didn’t say that I was,” he started. His voice was tired and watery. “I made a shit ton of mistakes, I know. But it was to keep August away from you… and you still sought him out, and protected him, knowing what he did to me, to us. You still protected him, for your own benefit.”

Angry tears spilled down his cheeks. “And I was right… He manipulated you into keeping his secret and believing that it was for the best, and you manipulated him right back into helping you get into Manor House. You are still a backstabber, Sara. Because I made mistakes to help you and protect you, but you did it because you are selfish and greedy and a snob. You’re just like…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but she knew what he was going to say. He wiped at his cheeks. He was so visibly enraged that it was surprising how he managed to not yell. “I didn’t fuck you over, Sara. But you did, you absolutely fucked me over, and for August. And now you’ve done it again, just because you felt guilty.”

Sara’s throat burned, her whole body trembling.

She didn’t know how to respond. She wanted to respond, she wanted to shout at him, at both of them. 

There was a knock on the door, and the three of them froze. 

“Mi amor, ¿todo bien?” (“My love, everything okay?”) 

It was Linda, of course, and she sounded concerned. Had Sara actually been shouting? Did Linda hear any of it?

Simon wiped his face again quickly and opened the door. “Hola, perdona, sí, todo bien,” (“Hi, sorry, yes, evertyhing’s okay,”) he said, as if nothing was going on. 

Linda nodded, unsure. “Ah okay. Es que ya casi son las ocho, y ustedes se tienen que ir pronto. Quería ver si todo estaba bien.” (“Oh, okay. It’s just that it’s almost eight, and you have to go soon. I wanted to check if everything was fine.”)

“Sí, sí, todo bien. Solo estamos hablando.” (“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. We’re just talking.”)

Linda glanced between her children. Sara had no idea what her own face was doing, but she didn’t care. 

“¿Seguro?” (“Are you sure?”) Linda asked. Simon put on a smile and nodded.

“Sí. No te preocupes.” (“Yeah, don’t worry.”)

“¿Sara? ¿Estás bien?” (“Sara, are you okay?”)

Sara nodded. “Yeah, we… we’re trying to sort things out.”

Linda smiled, and looked at Wilhelm. “Wille, are you the referee in this match?”

Wilhelm smiled. “Something like that.”

“I think Malin and Joakim are ready when you are,” Linda said. Wilhelm nodded.

”Yeah, could you please tell them we’ll be out soon?”

“Sure, no problem,” Linda said, nodding and glancing at each in turn. “Bueno. Me alegro que estén tratando de arreglar las cosas entre ustedes.” (“Well, I’m glad that you’re trying to sort things out between you.”)

“Sí, no te preocupes, estamos bien,” (“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re good,”) Simon repeated.

“Y no es que los esté echando, pero yo sé que se tienen que ir a las ocho en punto.” (“And I’m absolutely not kicking you out, but I know that you have to leave at eight sharp.”)

“Sí, sí, vamos a estar listos.” (“Yes, we’ll be ready.”)

Linda squeezed Simon’s shoulder before leaving. Simon closed the door and pushed himself away, walking over to sit beside Wilhelm on the bed, as if his legs couldn’t keep him up anymore. 

Sara felt somewhat drained. She didn’t know what to do now. She didn’t know what to do with all this information, and she couldn’t finish processing everything.

“Can I say something?”

Wilhelm’s voice gently broke the silence. Simon nodded.

“Okay.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath first. “I understand that you’re upset at each other. We’ve all made mistakes that led to this. I know I did, and I know that I have to make up for them. But… what’s done is done, I can’t undo any of that, I can only think of what to do now. And it’s the same for all of us. We can’t get stuck on who did what and why. That’s not gonna solve anything. We have to figure out what to do about it now. We need to work together.”

Simon and Sara exchanged looks. Neither said anything at first.

“You’re right,” Simon conceded. Sara stayed silent.

“And let’s not forget who is behind everything. August,” Wilhelm pointed out. Simon nodded. 

“What do you suggest?”

Wilhelm bit his lip, thinking. “I’m not sure yet.”

Sara slumped her shoulders. She kind of wished she hadn’t said anything. Then she wouldn’t have learned things she didn’t want to find out. But also she wouldn’t have had to listen to Simon still be angry at her, throwing everything in her face.

How could she had been so stupid? What was she supposed to do now?

“I’m going to have to talk to someone about this,” Wilhelm continued. “I don’t think I can figure out or sort this out on my own. We need help. I need to make sure that the Royal Court will protect you. Both of you.”

Sara looked up at him. “Both of us?”

“August would absolutely still try to screw Simon over. He has a personal vendetta against both of us. But I wouldn’t rule out that he could try to screw you over instead, just because you reported him, or maybe to hurt Simon anyway, or something else… He could try to use the pills against you, and you’re of age, and the consequences for you would be worse.”

Sara frowned; even if she knew, had seen with her own eyes how far August was willing to go to protect himself, she still didn’t want to believe that he would be willing to harm her in any way, not on purpose at least…

I, Kind August, promise to you, Queen Sara…

She was so stupid. 

Simon stood up and started pacing again. He was shaking his head. “Wille, you can’t tell the Royal Court. They would never protect me, or Sara.”

“They could,” Wilhelm assured him, but Simon shook his head more vigorously.

“They’re not. This is a real mess.” 

“We can fix it.”

“This would be the perfect opportunity for them to get rid of me, and you know it. It’s only been a week, they would have no problem with it, pretending like it never happened. And you and I would not be able to do anything-”

Wilhelm stood up and stopped him by pulling him into a hug. Simon didn’t try to push him away, but his arms hung limply at his sides.

“No, they wouldn’t. Not after the speech, not after the press release, not after the protests, or after everything that they’re doing to get the public to accept you and me.”

“Yes they will,” Simon protested weakly.

“I won’t let it happen.”

Simon’s arms wrapped around Wilhelm’s waist, rubbing his face on his shoulder.

“Please,” he whispered. 

Wilhelm sighed, holding him tighter. Sara looked away; she felt like an intruder in this moment. 

“Okay, okay, I won’t tell them anything,” Wilhelm conceded. “I wasn’t going to anyway. I just wanted to get some information without them knowing the details. But…” he rubbed his back, “don’t worry, we’ll sort this out.”

Simon took a trembling breath. “I feel like I deserve this… I feel like this might be the universe trying to tell me something…”

Wilhelm pulled back, looking Simon in eyes. “No, no way. What August did is worse, and he did it for pure fucking vengeance. So guess what? I’m all for protecting you. If we can sort out the drugs, he is still responsible for the video, and he’s still going down for that, the way he should have from the beginning. I’ve had enough of him forever. We can solve this, and I’m getting August off my fucking back once and for all.”

Sara stared at him. “What about everyone else who knows about the drugs, who might know that Simon provided them?”

“The guys from the Society will probably stay quiet,” Wilhelm said. “Otherwise they would have to admit that they lied about it, and none of them want to be involved in a drug scandal. Besides, if they find out that one of the ‘brothers’, and not just any brother, but August himself, broke the silence pact, they might not side with him. I’m not sure, though, I don’t know how strong their loyalties might be.”

He sat back down and look thoughtfully down at his hands. 

“I might be able to talk to Minou, get something useful, and she doesn’t have to know. That could be plan B.”

“What’s plan A?” Simon asked. Wilhelm looked at them both. 

”We recover the drugs, so that August cannot use them for leverage anymore.”

“How?” Simon asked, sitting beside Wilhelm. 

“Don’t laugh or be mad at me, but the only thing that comes to mind right now is like… a heist movie plot.”

Simon couldn’t help a derisive chuckle, a hand to his forehead. Wilhelm smiled. Sara didn’t find it funny at all.

“I don’t know right now, sorry, but we’ll figure something out.”

Simon seemed to relax a bit. He nodded and looked at Wilhelm. “Okay,” he whispered. 

They sat in silence for a moment, before Wilhelm perked up. 

“Do you really think he’s an addict?” he asked. Simon shrugged.

“I think that was really suspicious of him, to ask Sara about her meds. And he got kind of insistent. He had never spoken to her before. Just like he hadn’t spoken to me, until he needed me to get the booze. He didn’t even know our names,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Wilhelm turned to her. 

“Sara, did you ever see him take something?”

In her mind, Sara could see the bottle, could see August retrieving it from the bottom of the metal bin below his desk… Were those it? Was that the bottle that he got from Simon? Did it have her dad’s name on it? 

How could she have overlooked it…?

“I saw him take ADHD medication, but… he doesn’t have ADHD.”

“When did you see him take it?”

“When we were in his room one time,” she said, her cheeks turning red. “He got a call, and he looked a bit stressed. He took the pill bottle from the bottom of the bin, took one. I asked him about it, but he said he only used when he needed to focus or be at his best, and that’s when he told me he was your backup. He said he had to be in his best behavior, so he was going to quit soon. And I… I fucking believed him.” She closed her eyes, mentally kicking herself. Maybe she was a dumb, naïve idiot.

“Were you able to see if the bottle had your dad’s name on it?”

She shook her head. “No… I think that would have caught my attention.”

“Did you see where he put it afterwards?”

“He just put in on his desk. I didn’t think about it anymore. We… we got distracted.” Her face felt hot. She caught the look that Simon was giving her, and she lowered her eyes.

Wilhelm shook his head. “He didn’t get rid of it. I’m sure. It’s somewhere in his room. And he is an addict, then.”

Sara wanted to slap herself. How could she have been so stupid…?

“I think…” Wilhelm started. “I think his dad was too.”

Sara looked up. “What?”

“August’s dad, he was my mum’s cousin. I knew he died a few years back, but… only last year I found out from Erik that it had been suicide.”

“Wow,” Simon said quietly. It only then hit Sara that she hadn’t really bothered to ask, why August would be Wilhelm’s backup instead of someone else in the family. She hadn’t cared…

“And when I asked Minou to look into his financial situation, I found out that he basically left August and his mum with a ton of debt, from some very expensive habits. I’m guessing that might have had something to do with it.”  

“Shit.” Simon looked like he was having some internal conflict. Wilhelm was nodding beside him.

“If August is really an addict, that could be to our advantage.”

Sara frowned at Wilhelm, remembering something all of a sudden.

“Did you take any?”

“Take what?” he asked.

“Drugs. At the party.”

He looked a bit embarrassed. “A little.” 

She gave him a stony look. Beside him, Simon was giving Sara a pointed look.

“I don’t really do drugs,” Wilhelm added. “And if I had known where they came from, I definitely wouldn’t have. I was… I was drunk and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“And if I had known that August would use them for a party, and that Wille might be there, I wouldn’t have given them to him,” Simon said. 

Sara shook her head, still stony-faced. “But you both still did.”

“Sara, fuck off,” Simon hissed. 

Wilhelm shook his head. “No, I get it… I shouldn’t have, I wish I hadn’t… I just… I wasn’t really thinking.” He averted his eyes. “I wouldn’t do that anymore. It was… peer pressure… and… and grief… and not wanting to feel anything anymore… at least for a little while…”

Sara looked down at her hands. She felt suddenly embarrassed. In all the things had had happened since, she had managed to forget something crucial about Wilhelm. About why he was in this position in the first place, why things had gotten so complicated. 

“This was the same night that you disappeared?” she asked, looking at Simon.

“Yes.”

Wilhelm nodded. “He figured out where I was and took me back to Forest Ridge.”

“And the same night that August…” Sara began.

“Yes.”

Realization hit Sara just then, of how cruel August had really been, and how messed up it had been for her to cover it up too. 

Despite knowing how this affected Simon, she didn’t really think about how it affected Wilhelm too. He was her classmate, sure, but she rarely thought of him as a person with his own feelings and problems. He was the Crown Prince, he was untouchable. He couldn’t really have problems, because he was surrounded and shielded by privilege. 

But he was also a boy who lost his brother, and she couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to go through that pain, and have his own cousin betray him instead of being there for him. 

Holding a gun to August’s head had a whole other meaning now. 

How could she have been so…

“Listen,” Wilhelm started again, and Sara wiped at her watery eyes and looked at him. “I don’t love it, but… if we hope to stop August from screwing us over, we need to think like him. He has somehow managed to stay one step ahead of us. We have to be better than that. And for that we need to trust each other.”

Simon and Sara exchanged looks, like they were checking with each other. Like they used to.

“Okay,” they said in unison.

“We’ll think of something. The sooner the better,” Wilhelm said, and turned to Sara.

“In the meantime, you have to lie to the police. You have to tell them that you just realized that you didn’t really see what you think you saw, or that the person that you thought you saw might have been elsewhere, or that after looking into it you don’t really know who leaked the video. Anything that will stop them from investigating, at least for now. The Royal Court cannot find out that a report was made. August cannot find out either.”

She nodded. “Okay.” 

“Do you think you can do that?”

“I’ll try. Yeah.”

“If you need any help with anything, tell us. You can call me if you want. But… don’t keep this kind of thing from us anymore. Especially from Simon.”

“I tried telling you sooner…” Sara protested weakly. “Simon didn’t want to talk to me.”

“Oh so it’s my fault?” Simon retorted.

She shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

She sat there, hands tight on her lap, thinking about what to do or say now.

She felt like an intruder in their room. She felt like an intruder anywhere in her own home.  

“I’m really sorry for what I did,” she whispered. Simon shook his head.

“I’m sorry too.” He looked earnestly at her. “I really didn’t want to get back in touch with dad. And I’ll make sure that he doesn’t try to get in touch with you again or anything. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, and gave him a small smile. He didn’t smile back.

“I guess we’re gonna have to pretend to be cool with each other, at least in front of mum. She cannot know.”

Her smile faltered.

“Yeah, sure.”

Things were not cool between them. Perhaps they never would be again. Perhaps Simon would never trust her again. And why should he? Why should she trust him either?

They had once been inseparable. But maybe they were more different than she thought, and they had just grown up and grown apart. Maybe that’s just how things went. 

Maybe she was no longer part of the ‘we’. Maybe someone else had taken her place.

“I have to wash my face,” Simon announced suddenly, standing up. “I also threw up my dinner and now I feel sick and I have a headache.”

“Do you want me to make you some tea?” Wilhelm offered. Simon smiled. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it. Thanks. You finish packing. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he walked out the door, Sara stood up to leave. She felt sick too. She just wanted to go to her room. She wanted to lie down in the dark and not think of anything. 

“Sara.”

Sara stopped and turned to face Wilhelm.

“I mean it, you can talk to me or us if you need it,” he started. “Also, you need to be more careful from now on. We all do. Just… please talk to us before doing anything, okay? We can figure these things out together. We can’t be impulsive.”

Sara nodded. “Weren’t you impulsive when you made that speech?”

He became bashful all of a sudden. “A little bit, yeah, but… I knew what I needed to do, I knew I was taking away the Royal Court’s power to stop me. I’ve been dealing with them much longer.”

“That’s true.”

She realized all of a sudden that she had never really talked with Wilhelm, never had an actual conversation with him, let alone just the two of them. 

She lingered there, staring at him, sitting on the edge of Simon’s bed, which was now their bed. He looked odd, like he shouldn’t be there, like he was trying to blend in, in Simon’s thrift shop purple hoodie, but he couldn’t hide who he was, or what he was. He didn’t really belong there. Just like she didn’t belong in Manor House. 

He seemed to be watching her too, as if he were trying to decide something.

“Why did you do it?” He asked softly, finally. Sara sighed. 

“I told you. I wanted to help. I wanted to make up for what I had done.”

“No, I don’t mean calling the police, I mean… why did you choose August over your brother?”

Sara stared, and slowly started shaking her head. 

“I didn’t choose August,” she retorted bitterly. “Not at first, at least. I…” She looked down at the floor, still shaking her head. “You don’t understand, you’ll never understand, you… you have everything. You, of all people, have absolutely everything.”

Wilhelm opened his mouth to say something, but he chose against it. She almost apologized for being blunt. 

”I only wanted to seize an opportunity. I didn’t mean to hurt Simon. I… I honestly thought it was pointless to tell him anyway, because the video was already everywhere, because there was no way to undo that… I didn’t think that I was hurting him. I just wanted to… I just wanted a chance to fit in.”

“Simon’s never been about fitting in,” she added. “He might have been for a while, when we started school, and he realized he looked different. But then he didn’t care. He stands out wherever he goes, because of how he looks and acts and sounds, because he’s beautiful and smart and talented and confident and charismatic… It’s effortless for him. But for me… I stand out because I’m a freak-”

“You’re not a freak-”

“I’m weird, that’s how people see me, because I have ADHD and autism spectrum disorder, and I say the wrong thing at the wrong time, and people don’t know how to behave around me, and they make fun of me behind my back or to my face, or they just ignore me. I don’t know how to act, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to blend in, and I don’t know how to not care what people think of me… like Simon.”

She realized her eyes were full of tears. She had never been this sincere with anyone else, not even Felice or August. Not anyone except Simon. 

Wilhelm looked almost sympathetic. Almost. 

“So you’re envious of him.”

“Yes,” she admitted. 

Of course she was, Sara had been envious of her brother her entire life. Simon wasn’t normal, but not in the same way that she wasn’t normal. He was magical, even when he seemed to be unaware of it. 

“He can just be himself, he’s okay with being different, he likes it, he likes that he doesn’t blend in. He doesn’t care about those things, he doesn’t care about not being cool or rich or posh… And I know that you normally need those things to get somewhere in life. But he disagrees.” 

She shook her head in disbelief. “And then, despite all of that, he goes and he… he gets you, a prince, to fall for him…” 

Sara would never admit this to Simon, she wished she hadn’t admitted it now. 

“And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that it’s so easy for him, and it’s so hard for me…”

Wilhelm, again, looked like he felt a bit bad for her, but he also looked exhausted all of a sudden. 

“So you sabotaged him?”

“I didn’t mean to do that… I didn’t mean for that to happen… I was just trying to fit in.”

Wilhelm gave a little nod of his head and let out a heavy sigh. “Well, congratulations, you do. You fit right in.”

She stared at him for a moment. She didn’t say anything else, and then she turned and left. 

Malin and Linda were standing by the door, waiting for the boys. Sara sat at the dinner table having a sandwich, because her mother insisted that she needed to eat, that she was going to make herself sick if she kept skipping meals, and that she should stop by the clinic to get herself checked out. 

The boys finally emerged from Simon’s bedroom, carrying their bags. 

“Boys, you’re going to get me in trouble, they’ll think that I’m the one keeping you, like I don’t want to let you go,” Linda scolded them. Simon gave her a look.

“That wouldn’t be too far from the truth, would it?” He teased her, and Linda wrapped him up in her arms. 

“Ay mi niño lindo, te me vas de nuevo,” (“Oh my beautiful boy, you’re leaving me again,”) Linda said, squeezing him tight. She pulled back and stroked his face. “Mi amor, ¿estabas llorando?” (“My love, had you been crying?”) she asked. From where Sara sat, even she could see the redness of his nose and eyes. 

“Nada… I’m just sad about leaving again, too. I won’t see you for a whole week,” he said, hugging her again. Linda’s eyes filled with tears.

“Yo dije que no iba a llorar esta vez,” (“I said I wasn’t going to cry this time,”) Linda complained, caressing Simon’s curls.

“Ya te acostumbrarás,” (“You’ll get used to it eventually,”) Simon sniffed. 

“Goodbye, mi amor, take care, call me if you need anything, or if you just want to talk. I’ll see you next weekend. Sara, ven a despedirte de tu hermano.” (“Sara, come say goodbye to your brother.”)

Sara glanced as Simon stepped aside, and it was Wilhelm’s turn to be enveloped by Linda in a tight hug. “Take care of my baby, please,” she was saying to him. “Absolutely,” Wilhelm replied. Sara didn’t get up.

“Sara, que tu hermano se tiene que ir,” (“Sara, your brother has to go,”) Linda repeated. Sara still didn’t move, staring at her half-eaten sandwich. “Sara!”

“Yes?” 

“Que se va tu hermano.” (“Your brother is leaving.”)

“I know, I heard you, But what’s the big deal? You’re the one who won’t see him as much, but we still have class together.”

“Déjala, mami, no importa,” (“Leave her, mum, it doesn’t matter,”) Simon said, picking up his bag.

“¿Cómo que no importa? ¿Arreglaron las cosas entre ustedes o no? Si no, tienen que ver cómo las arreglan. Porque esto no puede seguir así. Ustedes son hermanos, ustedes tienen que apoyarse uno al otro. Y si no, yo-” (“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Did you fix things between you or not? If not, you have to figure out how to fix it. Because this cannot continue this way. You are siblings, you should support each other. And if not, I-”)

“Fine, fine,” Sara interrupted before Linda continued with her rant. She wiped her hands with a serviette as she stood up, and walked toward her brother. Simon reluctantly dropped his bag again, and they pulled the other into a hug.

As she hugged him, she felt her chest tighten. Something changed between them. She was very aware that, despite his arms circling her waist, Simon wasn’t really hugging her, not like he used to. 

A part of her was certain that things would never be the same. Nothing would ever feel right again. 

The other part of her still hoped.

She had tried to fix things but just made everything worse, but at least she had tried.

Maybe some things just couldn’t be fixed.

“Bye, see you tomorrow,” Simon said, pulling away. 

She nodded. “Yeah, see you,” she echoed. He grabbed his bag and turned away and didn’t look back at her again. 

He grumbled about hating this part, as Wilhelm handed him a pair of sunglasses and put on his own, and they pulled their hoods up. Wilhelm said that it would get better with time.

Sara put an arm around Linda, who was still misty-eyed as she waved the boys goodbye just before they stepped out and closed the door. Through the window they watched Malin lead them toward the car under a flurry of camera flashes, loud voices asking if the Crown Prince had spent the entire weekend there. 

“No, I doubt I’ll ever get used to this,” Linda said, wiping her eyes, as the car pulled out of the driveway, chased by photographers. “I don’t have a choice, though. You guys grow up and start making your own decisions, your own lives, and I can only hope for the best.” She stroked Sara’s hair. “But at least for now, I have you back.”

Sara nodded, squeezing her mother’s shoulders once, and walked away before Linda could continue philosophizing. She feared the question that her mother asked practically every day, an explanation to what had happened between her and Simon. At least she was appeased by the idea of them talking things out, but…

Sara wasn’t in the mood to deal with it. She wasn’t in the mood for anything. 

Notes:

One of Sara’s biggest flaws is how she holds the people around her to very high standards, and is constantly disappointed when they don’t fulfill her expectations. She would be upset at Simon for approaching their dad, and for creating this whole mess, rather than try to understand the underlying reasons behind it. She would totally reproach Wilhelm if she found out that he did drugs that one time (or maybe more times before, but I’m not entirely sure, after partying and drinking and doing drugs in season 1, he doesn’t seem to indulge in anything at all in season 2, and for someone going through what he’s been through it might have been the easiest thing to just get drunk or high and try to forget and feel nothing. In fact, during the Society party scene, when Alexander is gathering up all the drugs, it looks like Wilhelm even pockets a blister pack, and yet we never see it again.)
So it’s surprising how she was able to overlook August’s shortcomings (taking ADHD meds when he doesn’t have ADHD, and of course the revenge porn) until the very end, and there are three possibilities: either she didn’t hold him to any standards because she had no expectations about him really, and/or she was willing to overlook them because it worked to her advantage, and/or her feelings for him made her overlook them, until it was too glaringly obvious to ignore them.
Next chapter is another new POV. Any guesses?

Chapter 15: Puzzle pieces

Summary:

Felice and the girls talk about the latest gossip, which someone unfortunately overhears.
Felice POV

Notes:

We’ve made it to the next week at last! I know I said that it was still going to be the same very long weekend in this chapter, but then I remembered I had changed that, so it’s now it’s a whole new week. It’s Monday again at last.
TW: literal horse poop.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“… And Henry said that Lukas had been complaining, because apparently he can hear them through the wall,” Fredrika was saying as she scraped the shovel across the floor. 

“Hear what, exactly?” Maddie asked. 

“You know… moaning and thumping,” Fredrika answered, wiggling her eyebrows. She lifted the shovel full of horse poop and dropped it into the wheelbarrow. “All. Night. Long,” she said, hitting the shovel against the edge of the wheelbarrow to punctuate each word, and giggled.

Felice rolled her eyes and pinched her nose. It was Monday, and almost two whole weeks after her family had sold Rousseau, and she didn’t think she’d ever set foot in the stables again, let alone so soon. But Stella and Fredrika had been spending extra time in the stables and riding, because Stella was preparing for a competition. So Felice and Maddie joined them in the stables for a while, after class, to hang out. They were hopefully doing something more fun later, something that didn’t involve hanging out in the cold stables. 

Felice didn’t miss it at all. The hay, the smells, shoveling mounds of horse shit. None of it. No, thank you. 

It was also strange to be there without Sara.

“I wouldn’t believe what Lukas or Henry say, they both like to exaggerate their stories,” Felice said in a nasal voice, since she was still pinching her nose. Whenever Fredrika relocated the shit with the shovel the smell really wafted and bore into her nostrils. After a full week of being away from the stables, the stench was extra unpleasant.

Or maybe it was the memories associated with that place. 

Maddie seemed unbothered by the smells, although she kept picking loose hay off of her coat’s fur lining. “I know Henry does, but does Lukas?”

“I believe Lukas. If he says he could hear them going at it, I think he really did,” Fredrika stated, pushing her hair out of her face with her wrist. Felice shook her head.

“I wouldn’t trust Lukas either,” Stella piped up from the back of the box, where she was sweeping. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was listening in, like actively trying to hear them. There’s a reason why everyone thought that he had been the one who filmed them in the first place. And it’s because he’s a perv.”

Fredrika shook her head. “Nah. I mean, yeah Lukas is a perv, buuuuuut… Walter said that one time he could hear them too.”

“Come on, the walls are not that thin,” Maddie said. 

“Then they must have been really loud,” Stella said with a smirk and a wiggle of her eyebrows, and Fredrika did the same, both giggling. 

Felice pinched the bridge or her nose this time, in annoyance. Only a moment ago, they had been talking about Stella’s upcoming competition, and how Stella worried that her trainer was overworking her horse Frida, and Maddie had been asking her if she knew about horse electromagnetic therapy and had she ever considered it for Frida. As always, and without any explanation, the subject had suddenly turned to Wilhelm and Simon. It was like all the paths led back to talking about them; especially with all the new developments. 

For instance, the two of them had been away the whole weekend at Simon’s house. All the students were still shocked that, not only was Wilhelm allowed to spend the weekend outside of Hillerska, but he got to spend it with his boyfriend in his house that everyone in the entire world now knew what it looked like and where it was located, and all with the Queen’s permission. Wilhelm had confided to Felice that the Royal Court couldn’t do anything about Simon returning home every weekend if he wanted to; and having Wilhelm and his security team there kept the photographers at bay, even though bodyguards standing outside a house in Bjärstad was like a neon sign announcing ‘the Crown Prince is here’. 

For another thing, people kept talking about how they had disappeared from the post-jubilee party; about how awkward it would be at Simon’s house now that Sara had moved back; about Simon becoming a boarder; and about Wilhelm quitting the rowing team. 

“You know what that means, right? If Lukas can hear them most of the time, but sometimes Walter can too, it means that sometimes they’re fucking in Wille’s bed, and other times they’re doing it on Simon’s. Depending on who can hear them through the wall, you know where they are,” Stella pointed out.

“Wow, you’ve actually thought about this. You’re like Sherlock Holmes, but using your power of deduction exclusively to figure out when and where people are having sex,” Maddie joked. 

Felice and Fredrika laughed, and Stella took a little bow. 

“Do you think that they don’t know that people can hear them?” Fredrika asked.

“Of course they do. But what are they gonna do? Not fuck?” Stella said. “Why should they care if people can hear them? Nobody else would. They got permission to live in the same room, they are going to be fucking at every chance, being as loud as they want.” She stopped sweeping and smirked. “Did you see the hickey on Wille’s neck? Simon is staking his claim, hard.” 

Fredrika gasped. “What? How did I not notice?”

“How did you not hear about it? That’s what you get for skipping P.E. today. Seems like he got away with hiding it under a collared shirt all day, but when he had to change into his P.E. kit, there was no hiding it anymore.” 

“Not fair! Did everyone see it?”

Felice and Maddie nodded. Felice had to laugh to herself, because she did ask Wilhelm later during break, and both he and Simon blushed hard. Wilhelm grumbled that he had done a good job at hiding it all weekend with hoodies, but he completely forgot about P.E, and spent all class red-faced, trying to ignore the looks from people as they noticed it, and then the rest of the day hearing about it as word got around. Felice laughed and told them that she was going to buy Wilhelm a concealer in his shade, just in case Simon got ‘carried away’ again, causing Simon to go even redder.

“Okay, serious question here,” Fredrika started, shoveling up the last of the poop: “from the video, I think we can assume that Wille’s the top, but do you think that Simon ever-”

“Guys, can we talk about something else now? I don’t feel comfortable with this subject,” Felice interrupted. She didn’t mind talking about sex, as long as the people involved were a part of the discussion. But to talk about her friends having sex in such detail, behind their backs, was too icky, even if they weren’t saying anything mean. 

Stella leaned on her broomstick and eyed Felice curiously. “Why not? Is there a particular reason you don’t want to talk about it? Perhaps you’re a little jealous… of Simon?” she teased. Felice rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

“No,” she said, then after a beat, “not anymore.”

Stella and Fredrika raised their eyebrows and looked at each other. 

“Hmmm, so you were before… A little miffed that the Crown Prince is getting sexy with someone else…?” Stella continued in a sing-song voice. Felice chuckled.

“Fuck off. I’m not. I’m happy for them. I’m seriously over it.”

“At least Simon and Wille don’t get horribly cockblocked by Henry, unlike you,” Fredrika pointed out. 

“Well, that’s only a matter of time,” Stella said with a shrug.

“Ha! Yeah, Henry is a pest,” Fredrika laughed.

Indigo snorted, startling Felice. She had completely forgotten he was there, tied outside the box, waiting for Fredrika and Stella to finish cleaning it. Maddie smiled and started petting Indigo, and the horse snorted again, nodding his head toward the door. Out of the corner of her eye, Felice spotted a figure appear at the door to the stables, carrying a huge bale of hay and dropping it by the door. She did a double-take. Marcus glanced in their direction, a sullen look on his face, before turning back toward the remaining bales he was unloading from the truck. Felice winced. 

“Guys, seriously, let’s change the subject,” she said through gritted teeth.

“What? Why?” Fredrika asked curiously. Felice nodded her head lightly in the door’s direction.

“Marcus is right there,” she muttered. 

“Marcus…”

“He tends the stables?”

“I know who he is, but what does he have to do- oh fuck!” Fredrika covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide.

“What?” Stella asked.

“He was, you know…” Felice whispered.

“He’s Simon’s ex,” Fredrika responded, in a not so subtle whisper. Stella looked confused and peeked out of the box, trying to see who they were referring to. Maddie didn’t seem to be paying attention at all, too content with petting Indigo. 

“I would hardly call him an ex,” Felice clarified.

“But they dated, right?” Fredrika asked, still very unsubtly. Felice gestured with her hand for her to lower her voice. She glanced over her shoulder just as Marcus reappeared and piled another bale of hay by the door. She looked away.

“Barely. Simon says they weren’t even really a thing, but… I think maybe Marcus wanted to be something more.” 

Stella’s eyes widened. “Oh right, they went to the ball together, didn’t they? Shit…” 

“Yep.”

Fredrika gasped. “And here we are talking about Simon and his new boyfriend, who is sort of an old boyfriend…” 

“Oh shit, we were talking about them fucking!” Stella squealed, and Fredrika laughed. Felice shushed them. 

“You’re so mean,” Fredrika snickered. 

“Me? You were the one who brought it up!” Stella retorted.

“You were the one talking about the hickey and whether they are fucking in one bed or the other, at full volume,” Fredrika said a bit too loudly.

“And you were asking who’s top and who’s bottom,” Stella squealed again, causing them both to laugh even harder. Felice was shushing them again, pushing them back into the box, throwing a glance over her shoulder. 

“You guys are the worst,” she said, shaking her head. The two girls were trying to stop laughing and shushing each other.

“Did Simon and Marcus ever fuck?” Stella asked once she regained her breath. 

Felice gave her an annoyed look. “I don’t know! I don’t have that much information. All I know is that maybe we shouldn’t be talking about it in front of him.”

Fredrika scoffed. “Who cares? Simon didn’t want him, he bagged a prince, what did he expect?”

Felice shook her head. “That’s so mean. And I can tell you for a fact that Wille being a prince has nothing to do with it,” she whispered. Fredrika threw her a skeptical look.

“Doesn’t it? Really? Come on, Felice, it’s a modern fairytale. Simon has to like it somewhat.”

“Have you not been paying attention? Did you not see how awful it was when the video got leaked, and then with the speech?” Maddie interjected at last. “That all has to do with the fact that Wille is the Crown Prince. I don’t think Simon is exactly fond of all the media attention and being chased by paparazzi and having to deal with the monarchy mafia and all that shit that comes with dating a prince,” she finished, then continued petting Indigo. There was a horse girl side to Maddie that Felice had not expected. Between that and hearing Maddie call the Royal Court ‘the monarchy mafia’, she couldn’t help but snort. 

“Yeah, Maddie’s right. Trust me, Simon is not with Wille because he’s a royal. He’s with him in spite of it,” she said.

Fredrika pouted. “That’s sweet, but ugh, you’re ruining the fairytale.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Stella said, shaking her head.

“Fairytale or not, it’s still a love story,” Maddie said, caressing Indigo’s face. The horse sighed with content. 

“Wait, are you saying that they’re in love? Like, already?” Stella asked. Felice groaned and waved her hands. 

“Oh, I’m not getting into that. I’ve said too much already,” she said. 

“Of course they are,” Maddie muttered. 

“Maddie, shush.”

“You’re the one who told me.”

“I did not tell you, you figured it out. And I thought you didn’t like gossip.”

“It’s not gossip, is it? It’s facts. They’re in love. It’s romantic.”

“I mean, they probably have to be, to put up with all those things you mentioned,” Fredrika said, shrugging. 

Stella was staring off in to space, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “But… they’re, like… so different.” 

Felice threw her friend a look. Nevertheless, she appreciated that Stella at least chose to say it out loud, rather than pretend to ignore it like everyone else. 

“So? When you know you know, don’t you?” Maddie said. 

“But this is precisely what we were talking about last year, when the video leaked, that… how is that even going to work out? Wille being the crown prince and all that,” Fredrika pressed.

“I think they’re probably too young. You don’t just find the love of your life when you’re still a teenager,” Stella said, shaking her head. “You don’t just find the love of your life, period. You probably just find the person that’s most suited for you and then you hope for the best.”

Fredrika shrugged. “Some people do. Maybe they’re one of the lucky ones?”

“Lucky? Having to figure out how to be together and deal with all those things?”

Maddie pressed her forehead to Indigo’s snout, as if it were her own horse and she had been connecting with him for years. “They’ll make it work. If they’re really it for each other, they’ll find a way.”

Stella and Fredrika exchanged a look. 

“Maddie, that’s so sweet,” Fredrika mused, smiling and tilting her head. Stella gave a chuckle.

“In that case, Marcus reeeaaally had no chance,” she said, going back to sweeping. 

“Shh.” Felice glanced to the side, toward the door. She spotted Marcus nearby again, piling the last of the bales of hay by the door. He had definitely heard them. Brow slightly furrowed, he glanced in their direction once and walked away. 

“Guys, can you please hurry? It’s getting colder and I don’t exactly want to be here,” Felice groaned. Fredrika and Stella had finished setting up Indigo’s box, and had now moved to Frida’s, at the other end of the stable. Stella had tied Frida in the middle of the boxes, and she was now the one shoveling poop, whilst Fredrika swept. 

“Well, we would go faster if you helped,” Stella said in a sardonic tone. 

“No, thanks. This is a major reason among the many reasons why I quit riding and sold Rousseau.”

“You’re such a delicate flower, Felice.”

Maddie was now petting Frida, humming to it, like a horse whisperer, and the horse sighed happily. It was like she was bent on establishing a psychic connection with all the horses. She had probably seen a YouTube video about it. 

“Speaking of which, Felice, are you thinking of taking up any other sport now that you quit riding? I don’t know if you’ve heard the latest ‘news’ about you, but rumor has it that you might try out for the fencing team with Wille and Simon, just to be closer to them, or rather, him,” Fredrika commented, pausing to take a breath. Felice made a face.

“First of all, no, not taking up any new sport, at least until next term,” she said. “And second, is everything I do somehow related to Wille in some way?”

“Duh, that’s the nature of the gossip, that you’re still in love with him, and you’re pissed that he’s with Simon now,” Fredrika said.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…”

“That’s not going to go away just like that, no, my dear,” Stella said, scrunching her nose as she dropped poop into the wheelbarrow. “They’re going to be married with kids and people will still claim that you’re trying to break them up to get with Wille.”

“Ugh, why are people like that?”

Stella threw her a sympathetic look. “Relax, it’s just the sensationalist crap rolling around, and it will go away at some point.”

“To be replaced by some new sensationalist crap, hopefully not about you,” Fredrika added.

“Yeah, they’ll get tired eventually and just move on to the next juicy subject, which for now is likely to still be Wille and Simon.”

Felice scoffed. “It still sucks. It’s never nice. Nothing that they say is ever nice.” 

“No, of course it’s not. What would be the fun in that?” Fredrika stated, then pointed at Stella. “Remember when the rumor was that Henry and Walter had a bet on whether Henry could hook up with Stella before Walter could hook up with me? And there were actual bets around it?”

Stella made a face. “Ugh, I preferred it when the rumors were about us being open to threesomes.”

“So naturally people are going to talk about you and Wille, because it was like you were actually almost a thing. You would have been the hottest couple. And what girl would not have absolutely hated you for bagging the prince? Now that he’s gay-”

“We don’t actually know if he’s gay,” Stella clarified.

“Okay, well, now that he’s with a boy, girls are still going to be bitter about it, but at least it’s like they never stood a chance, you know? And that includes you.”

“But people still talk shit about me and Simon,” Felice grumbled. 

“Yeah, of course!” Fredrika scoffed. “Felice, I feel that you’re missing the point. People are going to make up drama about you, and about Simon, because they’re jealous or bitter or bored or whatever, it doesn’t matter, they’re just going to… it’s how it is. Girls make up shit because they’re bitter and bored, and boys… well, boys are just assholes, aren’t they?”

Felice sighed. Even when people weren’t talking about her, it still felt horrible. She had witnessed it all week, people talking about Simon as if he weren’t nearby, as if he couldn’t hear them. And whatever Simon felt about it, whether it affected him at all or not, he didn’t let it show. But she could see it affected Wilhelm. 

In fact, Wilhelm felt so bad that he told Felice about it, about what he heard people saying about her, and she reassured him it didn’t bother her at all. 

But it did. It bothered her what they were choosing to say about her. And she didn’t want Wilhelm to think any of those rumors were remotely true.

She was not jealous, she was not pretending to be Simon’s friend, and she would never try to break them up. 

In fact, she was really happy for them. It made her happy to have played a small part in their getting back together, and to be their friend and confidant and help them navigate their new relationship together. She had seen Wilhelm so broken up about Simon, and was so glad that she no longer had to be his shoulder to cry on, but instead someone with whom he shared good stuff, happy stuff;  someone who knew the ins and outs of them patching up their relationship, of all the troubles they had seen to find their way back to each other.

But of course people had to think badly about it. If she was hanging out with them, of course she must have an ulterior motive.

Because of course everything she did had to be about a guy, didn’t it?

It got under her skin, all the gossip, all the venom. 

Why couldn’t people mind their own business?

“Whatever, I’m getting out of here, I can’t stand that smell anymore,” she announced, arms wrapped tightly around her body, and headed out the door.

“Wait, are we going to drink by the lake later?” Fredrika asked before she left.

“If you guys ever stop talking long enough to finish shoveling up shit, sure,” she called over her shoulder.

“Okay, fine, we’ll hurry. You don’t have to get like that, we were just trying to make you feel better,” Stella called back.

Felice shook her head and kept walking. She didn’t really intend to leave, and she hadn’t meant to be rude, but she didn’t want to hear it anymore. She rounded the outside of the stable and leaned against the wall.

There were footsteps behind her. Maddie followed her with her hands in her coat pocket. Felice looked down at her boots. 

“You didn’t have to follow me,” she said. “I thought you’d stay back there, you and Frida seem to have a thing going on.”

Maddie leaned against the wall beside Felice. “I can leave if you want, but I thought maybe you’d want company while we wait for them. It feels like it’s taking them forever… Is it usually this tedious?”

Felice moved her head sideways. Of course she found it tedious, because she didn’t really like any of the aspects of riding. Stella and Fredrika probably didn’t love this part either, but they didn’t mind as much because they actually loved their horses. Felice always wondered if there was something wrong with her for not being able to work with Rousseau, when her mother had been such a natural with horses. 

Even so, Felice thought about all those mornings and afternoons in the stables talking to Sara as they worked. They didn’t feel so tedious at the time. Those days felt like a million years ago. 

“I just wanted to be alone for a bit, but you can stay,” Felice said. “I didn’t want to listen to them anymore, either.”

Maddie didn’t respond, kicking at the dirt. She lifted a foot and peeked at the sole, to make sure she hadn’t stepped on horse poop, then did the same with the other.

“They’re right, you know. People will get tired and stop talking about you,” she finally said. “But if you pay any attention to it, it just fuels the rumors. You just have to ignore it. And if it gets to be too much, you let me know and I’ll tell people to fuck off.”

Felice gave a mirthless chuckle. “Thanks. I just… you know, I really don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

There was a beat. Felice rubbed her arms, but it didn’t feel as unpleasantly cold outside, when there was at least still some sunlight. She looked around at the grounds. If there was one thing she liked about this place, it was the view. 

“Why do you care what people are saying about you?” Maddie suddenly asked. 

Felice really didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but maybe she didn’t mind talking about it with Maddie. 

“Because it’s unfair that they assume things about me, just to be mean.”

“Yeah, no, I get it, it’s not fair. But… why let it bother you? You can’t change what they think or say about you. And they’re not going to just stop. Because if they stop talking shit about you or anyone, then they would have to spend time with their own thoughts and feelings, and they’d have to examine how insipid and shallow their own lives are, and of course they don’t want that. Nobody wants to do that kind of introspection. So they just tear you down to feel superior. That’s all. Don’t think too much about it, it’s not worth worrying about it.”

Felice chuckled, this time with a bit more humor. Maddie really had a way to see through people’s bullshit.

“You are so insightful and smart,” she said. Maddie narrowed her eyes at her. 

“Are you being sarcastic?” 

“No, of course not,” Felice laughed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“If anything, you might be flattered. You’re basically part of the only interesting thing happening in their lives, you’re actually keeping them from descending into social entropy.”

Felice laughed again. “That might be true.” She became serious again. “I guess I mostly worry that Wille and Simon might believe those awful rumors about me.”

Maddie shook her head. “Of course they wouldn’t. They know it’s bullshit, and they’re likely just as sick of it as you are.”

Felice nodded, pushing her hair out of her face. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

There was another silence. Stella and Fredika’s laughter floated out from the stables. In the distance, Marcus was driving around in his tractor, stopping beside a large warehouse. 

“So you’re really not jealous?” Maddie asked.

Felice threw her a look, and Maddie held up her hands in defense. “It’s okay if you are. I mean, if you still have feelings for him, that’s normal. Just because you might be a bit jealous doesn’t mean that you’re a bad person, or that you’re trying to break them up or something.”

She thought about that. She still wasn’t sure if she had ever actually been in love with Wilhelm or not; her mother had definitely pressured her to get closer to him, to aspire to be his girlfriend, to become a princess in the future, to the point where she had felt brainwashed. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t have an authentic crush on him for a long time. He was handsome and nice and an absolute gentleman, and she would have probably been attracted to him even if he hadn’t been a prince. 

And she had liked kissing him. Both times. A lot. 

But she wasn’t delusional. Wilhelm wasn’t into her, he was seemingly not even into girls. And she wasn’t the kind of person who would pine for someone with whom she had absolutely no chance. 

“I mean… maybe I am, a little bit… but not of Simon, no. I don’t have feelings for Wille anymore, I swear, but…” she let out a deep sigh, “I think… he’s still kind of my dream guy.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows. “Really? What makes him your dream guy?”

“Like, he’s actually really sweet and thoughtful… and just so sincere about his feelings… guys just don’t do that, you know? It’s like, for some reason, they think that showing how they truly feel is the worst thing they can do, they have to keep you guessing, they have to pretend like they don’t give a shit about you, as if that’s going to make you want them more, like you’re going to beg them to pay you any attention, and just suffer through their bullshit. And guys here are the absolute worst of that kind, they’re basically all like that, they’re all like… like August.”

“Oh shit,” Maddie muttered. Felice shook her head. That’s what it was. She had met so many guys like August, she had been with guys like August, heck she had even been with August himself. And Wilhelm was like the antithesis of August, in almost every way. 

“So, can you blame me for fixating a bit on the only guy who has ever been honest to me, and at the same time not made me feel like shit?” She asked. Maddie gave a slow nod.

“I get it.”

Felice fell silent again. She inevitably went over her fleeting and depressing ‘relationship’ with August, how he treated her, how he talked to her, how he had kissed Sara behind her back, how he had been like a massive textbook red flag, and how dumping him had been one of the most satisfying things she had ever done. It still reminded her of the fact that, despite what August had done to her, Sara had inexplicably fallen for him. 

Felice would rather be alone forever than be with someone who treated her like that ever again.

But she didn’t really want to be alone forever.

“I know it might be silly to fixate so much on it right now, because of course it doesn’t have to happen now, but I can’t help but think… I just want what they have…” she said, almost muttered, a bit embarrassed. “You know? I want someone to love me as much as Wille so obviously loves Simon, and viceversa, and I wouldn’t mind it if it happened now, because shit, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been with someone that I really like, but like… where the fuck am I going to find someone like that?”

Maddie put an arm on her shoulder and smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Felice, one of these days you’ll find a soulmate too. It’ll happen when you least expect it.”

Felice stared at her. “Wow, I didn’t know you were such a romantic,” she said with a curious smile. Then she did a double-take. “Wait, do you… you think they’re soulmates?”

Maddie nodded and winked. “I think so. Considering all the evidence that I have, I’d say it’s pretty likely.” 

Felice smiled. “I mean, I’ll be honest with you, I think of soulmates as a rather cheesy concept for finding the love of your life, and it seems a bit unrealistic to expect to find that one person that is perfectly suited for you.”

Maddie shook her head. “That’s a major misconception. A soulmate is not necessarily the love of your life, and it’s not the person that is like your perfect match. It’s not even just one person. Soulmates come in all shapes and forms, could be lovers, best friends, anything really, but when you meet them, you know,” Maddie continued. “That’s why you can meet a soulmate at any point in your life, but maybe the relationship changes. Or it could be that you meet more than one soulmate. We all have more than one.”

“Really? But then how do you know? That you’ve found them?”

“Well… you just know. Like finding something that you’ve been missing your entire life, like a missing part of yourself. Soulmates are people who belonged to the same soul group in past lives, right? So when you reincarnate-”

“Oh, wow, you lost me there,” Felice said, shaking her head slowly. Maddie looked a bit surprised. 

“You don’t believe in reincarnation? You think we just pop into this world, live for eighty to ninety years if we’re lucky, and then goodbye forever? We go on to heaven or whatever you believe in and that’s it? Nothing else to do with whatever we took away from our blink of time in this existential plane?”

“Well, I… I didn’t say that,” Felice said, unsure. She wasn’t sure what she believed in. She never really thought much about stuff like that, and she wondered why she hadn’t had more conversations with Maddie about it, when clearly Maddie had a very deep and broad perspective on spiritual and esoteric topics. Perhaps she should talk about it more with her, it could be interesting. She never knew exactly what to expect from Maddie.  

“So we all have several past lives,” Maddie began, gesturing with her hands, “and throughout those past lives we have our soul group, which is people with whom we are connected on a spiritual level, and we meet during those lives, and we go through different situations and learn different lessons that help us evolve. In each lifetime, as we encounter our soulmates, they might be different, but we can always recognize them. A lover could have been a best friend in a past life, or a best friend is now a sibling, etc. But the point is, you will have an affinity to meet them, like a magnetic force pulling you toward one another. In each lifetime, you will always find your way back to each other. Because you belong together, like you complete each other. Like puzzle pieces.”

“Wow,” Felice mused. Yep, that sounded a bit like Wilhelm and Simon. Felice had been there for Wilhelm’s hopeless murmurations, she had seen Simon’s furtive glances, she had heard Wilhelm actually say the phrase ‘it hurts so much it feels like I’m dying’, she had seen a heartbroken Simon watch Wilhelm being taken away. She had seen them laugh together, berate each other, argue playfully, be sweet with each other, and be so evidently and irrevocably in love with each other. If there was such a thing as soulmates, then maybe Simon and Wilhelm were it. 

“That’s not to say that, once you’ve found one of your soulmates everything’s suddenly easy and perfect,” Maddie added. “You still have to work in the relationship, you still have to find a balance and maintain it, because there will always be chaos trying to tear you apart, or you might feel that you’re being pulled in opposite directions, and you have to find the way to stay together somehow. But once you find that balance, it’s almost… effortless. Like becoming one. You could almost say that soulmates are not just found, they are also made.”

Felice smiled. It was indeed a beautiful concept, and it didn’t seem so cheesy anymore. “How do you know so much about this?”

Maddie gave her a matter-of-fact glance. “It’s science, Felice. It’s chaos theory and biology and psychology and philosophy and theoretical and quantum physics and probably even mathematics and a lot more other people in all fields trying to understand it.”

“Really? Wow…”

“I mean, like most things, we don’t know everything there is to know about it, but there has to be an explanation to it, and more than one way to try to find that explanation. So, people keep looking into it. We’re always going to try to understand human connection. Because we’re fascinated by it.”

Felice nodded thoughtfully. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued. She would make sure to have more conversations like this with Maddie. 

“You know, I can teach you how to meditate to get into the right frequency to be open and aware for when you meet your soul people,” Maddie offered. “You could have met one of them already and not know it, because you’re obviously so closed off.”

Felice smiled again. “Sure, that would be nice. But honestly I don’t need to know right now. Maybe I shouldn’t worry about that at the moment. I want to focus on myself for now.” She put an arm around around Maddie’s shoulders for a half hug. “Wait, what if you’re one of mine?”

Maddie pouted. “Nah, we’re just kindred spirits. But, as your kindred spirit, I’m here to help you find your soul people, whenever you’re ready.”

Felice grinned and hugged her again. “Thanks.”

They fell silent again. Marcus was back on his tractor and now driving toward the paddock. 

“I’m glad that you’re focusing on yourself,” Maddie said. Felice nodded.

“Yeah, I feel like I haven’t done that enough. I feel like I haven’t given myself enough time to figure out what I want to do,” she said. Granted, she had spent the Christmas holiday break thinking about things that she wanted to do for herself, like change her style to feel more like herself, and she had taken the leap to change her hair. Even quitting riding was a huge change for her. But those things had also been a way to rebel against her mother, something that she wanted to do for a long time. It felt good, but she needed to start thinking about herself and what she wanted to do in terms of what would make her happy, without sparing a single thought to what her mother would think. It was not about her anymore. 

“I feel like our first year is almost over and I haven’t accomplished anything,” she added. Maddie looked indignant.

“Are you kidding? You figured out a bunch of things about yourself while also helping others. Didn’t you figure out on your own who took the video? You’re like a super sleuth. You’re so smart and clever and dedicated and loyal. You can do anything.”

Felice blushed. “You’re sweet.”

“So what do you think you want to do with your super powers?”

Felice chuckled. “Um… I don’t know… I do know that anything I choose to do will drive my mum nuts.”

“Forget about what your mum wants, what do you want?”

Felice thought about it. She knew the kinds of things she wanted to do, she just didn’t know what she had to become in order to be able to do those things. 

“I think I want to… be a lawyer?”

“Lawyer?” Maddie repeated, eyes widening in surprise.

“But like a human rights lawyer, or a children’s right’s lawyer. Not sure if they might even be the same thing…”

“Wow, I like that. That’s the best kind of lawyer.”

“Yeah. Or maybe even go into politics, but doing that, as a lawyer.”

“Oh my god, yes!”

“Is that crazy?” Felice asked, unsure. She had never actually talked about those things with anyone. But she knew people through her father, people who worked on similar things. There was a woman she met once who worked with immigrants. It seemed like a noble profession.

“No, it’s excellent. You’re going to save the world,” Maddie exclaimed. 

“Stop,” Felice chuckled. 

“I honestly think you’d be great at it,” Maddie said earnestly. “If there’s anyone that I trust not to become a crooked politician, it’s you. You have my vote.”

“Oh, thank you! I won’t let you down.”

“I could be your campaign manager.”

“Yes! You’re hired.”

Stella and Fredrika finally emerged from the stables, a few minutes later, looking well worn and dirty.

“Ugh, we need to shower. Who knew you could sweat so much in this cold?” Stella said.

“With all those layers on? Everyone,” Maddie responded.

“It’s almost dinnertime anyway. Maybe we leave the lakeside drinking for another day? And we just do self-care in our room,” Fredrika asked. “Board games and face masks and vodka, what do you say?”

“Sounds good. As long as we’re inside,” Felice said, rubbing her freezing hands together.

Fredrika threw her arms around Stella’s waist, mumbling ‘give me your warmth’. Stella seemed to hesitate for a moment before putting her arms around Fredrika, as they walked a few paces ahead. Maddie skipped behind them, asking Fredrika about Indigo.

To the left, Felice spotted Marcus by the fence of the paddock, coming off of his tractor. He unloaded a rake from the back and headed toward the gate.

Admittedly, she felt a bit bad for him. Much like her, Marcus had gotten somewhat caught in the drama between Wilhelm and Simon, and whatever they had hoped for with either of them had been doomed to fall by the wayside. Although in Felice’s case, she had probably been more aware of the unlikelihood of anything real happening between her and Wilhelm, Marcus seemed to unwittingly come into the fold actually hoping for something real. 

But she didn’t know him well enough to commiserate with him. In fact, she didn’t know him at all. 

She did feel bad about him overhearing them earlier, though. 

“Hey, Marcus, how are you?” she asked as she walked over to him.

Marcus’s face was stony as he turned to her. He was either surprised or annoyed that she was talking to him.

“Fine,” he said dryly. 

“Okay, good… Well… it’s good to see you,” she said politely. “I guess we won’t be seeing as much of each other anymore. Unless I go to the shooting range.”

Marcus frowned. “You’re not coming to ride Rousseau anymore?”

Felice blinked, confused. For some reason, she had assumed that he knew that Rousseau had been sold. After all, he had been around when she had the potential buyers around checking Rousseau out, and she was pretty sure that he was also around when the buyers took him away too. 

“Um, no… I sold him. Well, my parents sold him. I was quitting riding, so…”

“Wait, but then why-”

He cut off, glancing over his shoulder, looking like he had just caught himself about to say something he shouldn’t. Felice stared blankly at him.

“What?”

Marcus looked thoughtful for a moment, like he was trying to decide something. He turned back to her.

“Why is Rousseau back here then?” he finally said.

“Back where?”

“Here, in the stables. But the other stables. The old ones.”

For a moment, Felice thought he might be joking. But he didn’t look like he would be joking with her at all. “What?”

“Yeah… I’m taking care of him, but I thought it was because you couldn’t ride him in the meantime.”

She shook her head slowly. He must have been mistaken, he must have gotten Rousseau confused with another horse. 

“But… no… no, Rousseau was sold. To a family in Nörrköping. Almost two weeks ago now.” 

Marcus shrugged. “That might be so, but that guy had him brought back and is paying me to take care of him, and he told me it was Rousseau.”

Felice nearly blanched. “What guy?”

Again, Marcus seemed aware that he was probably saying too much. He sighed.

“A third year. I don’t remember his name.”

A deep unease invaded Felice. Her breath had quickened. “Is it August by any chance?”

Marcus gave another shrug, making a face. “I don’t know his name. He comes to the shooting range sometimes. He might have told me to not tell anyone about it, but you know what, he doesn’t pay me enough for that.”

It had to be August, Felice thought, it had to have something to do with August. Otherwise she would have heard from someone else. Everyone knew her at least through social media, everyone saw her posts about Rousseau, everyone saw that last post when she announced she was quitting and if anyone knew someone who might be interested in buying Rousseau, someone nice who would love Rousseau as much as she had loved him (at least on Instagram). If someone else at Hillerska or anyone at all in the area had decided on a whim to buy Rousseau and would be keeping him in the same stables where he had lived for the past few months, she was sure that someone would have told her, as a courtesy, even if they didn’t know her that well. ‘Hey, I’m Rousseau’s new owner, and I’m keeping him at the Hillerska stables, in case you want to come say hi to him’. That wouldn’t have been completely farfetched.

So August must be behind it somehow, because it was a secret. And it was highly likely to have something to do with Sara too.

“Okay, well, no, Rousseau is not mine anymore,” she said, baffled. 

“I see,” Marcus responded, sounding uninterested.

“Well, nice to see you again,” Felice added, starting to walk away. 

He didn’t respond, merely waved before returning to his work.

Felice hurried up and caught up with the girls. At the end of the field, Maddie was waiting for her. Stella and Fredrika were already much further ahead.

“What’s wrong?” Maddie asked, noting the look on Felice’s face. 

“Um,” Felice started, still feeling uneasy and baffled. “I think August bought Rousseau.”

“What? Why?” Maddie asked, making a face. Felice was shaking her head slowly.

“I have no idea,” she murmured. “But I’m gonna find out.”

Maddie hummed and grinned widely. “Super sleuth in action once again.”

Notes:

Something something about the symbolism behind Stella and Fredrika shoveling horse shit at the same time that they’re sharing rumors about Simon and Wille and Felice. Also something something about Stella being fine with gossip except when someone’s sexuality is being speculated about.
Since we never heard Stella’s horse name, of course I named it Frida after one of the most famous LGBTQIA+ icons in history. I don’t know if competition horses tend to be male or female, and that probably wouldn’t be up to Stella herself but her parents and possibly the trainer, but Stella would probably name it Frida regardless of the horse’s gender. Also horse electromagnetic therapy is an actual thing, and Maddie would know about any type of alternative/complementary therapy. I wouldn’t put it past Maddie to study concepts like soulmates beyond the esoteric and spiritual concepts.
At this point Felice doesn’t know a lot of things. She doesn’t know how things actually ended with Marcus, except that Simon had only dated him in the hopes of getting over Wille. She doesn’t know the things Marcus said to Simon, she doesn’t know that he (probably) lied to Simon about not watching the video, and she doesn’t know that he’s a snob who probably thinks she’s as pretentious as he made Wille to be when he met him for the first time in the shooting range. So of course she feels a bit sympathetic toward him. And she doesn’t know what happened with Sara during the weekend. Wille and Simon would not have told her, at least not yet, because it would involve explaining all about the drugs issue too.
This is also the second fic that I’ve written where Madison goes into a whole explanation about soulmates. Because of course she would know a lot about it. 

Chapter 16: Minute by minute

Summary:

Simon is learning to deal with the Royal Court, and it’s becoming overwhelming.
Simon POV

Notes:

I can’t believe it’s taken me a whole month to finish this chapter. I basically finished it, and then by the time I started editing, I hated it and redid half of it, and then redid it again, and again. I experienced major writer’s block, and almost scrapped the whole thing. I knew where I wanted to arrive, but I couldn’t figure out how to get there…
Anyway, I think I’m satisfied with it now, but it’s been a difficult process. I don’t think I’m entirely happy with it, but at least I don’t dislike it anymore… or maybe it’s just that I’ve been over it so many times that I’m tired of it, and maybe I just want to keep going…
TW: mentions of needles, mentions of blood, mentions of medical situations, mentions of food, sexual discussions, sexual situations, mentions of anal sex, mentions of porn.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Simon’s knee bounced up and down out of control. 

“I don’t hate doctors, but I don’t like needles, and hospitals and clinics smell weird, and the lighting is disturbingly bright, and everything echoes, and everyone talks like they expect you to understand what they’re saying, and everything they say sounds kind of ominous and…”

His hand hurt from where he was gripping the arms of the chair like he was holding on to dear life. 

“Do you want me to hold your hand when they do the blood drawing?” Wilhelm asked. 

Simon’s tense smile turned into a grimace. “The fucking RC should hold my hand, since they’re the ones making me do this.”

The RC was how they had started to refer to the Royal Court. Since they had to talk about them more and more, Simon needed another way to call them that wouldn’t make his blood boil every single time. 

Wilhelm smirked, hands folded on his lap. He was much calmer in contrast, probably because, unlike Simon, he wasn’t about to be prodded with needles and asked uncomfortable questions. But they had both been taken out of class just after lunch and driven to a top-of-the-line clinic in Linköping because, after Simon’s general health check-up, they were being forced to sit through a refresher session with a qualified sex educator. So at least they would be embarrassed together.

“I can call Jan-Olof for you, if you’d like,” Wilhelm teased.

Simon glared at him. “Very funny.” 

“You’re the one who just said that you’d rather have the RC hold your hand, instead of me,” Wilhelm said with a grin.

“I did not say that, you idiot,” Simon grumbled. 

They sat side by side on a bench in an empty waiting room. Minou and the assistant Elisa were off somewhere talking to staff. They had made sure that the place was as empty as possible, it almost seemed like they had closed it down for them. 

They had only been there for about twenty minutes, but Simon felt like it an eternity had passed already. 

Glancing around to make sure there was no one around watching them, other than Malin, who stood by the door, he reached for Wilhelm’s hand. Wilhelm smiled and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“I won’t be allowed to come with you, though,” he muttered. 

Simon shrugged. “That’s okay, I’ll survive. I think…”

Wilhelm leaned a bit toward him. “Do you want a kiss? Would that help?”

Simon narrowed his eyes at him and pretended to be appalled. “Wow…”

“It was just a suggestion…”

“Wow… taking advantage of my nerves… I expected better from you.”

“Okay, fine then, you don’t need me, so I guess I’ll go.” Wilhelm stood up, but Simon gripped his hand tighter and pulled him back down.

“Idiot,” he muttered, biting his lip to try to keep from smiling. “I appreciate the suggestion.”

Wilhelm smirked and glanced around too, to check that the coast was clear, then leaned over as if he were about to kiss him on the lips, but instead he planted multiple noisy kisses on Simon’s cheek and jaw, making him laugh and recoil like he was being tickled. 

“I’m sorry that you have to put up with this, you didn’t really have to,” Wilhelm whispered, pressing his forehead to Simon’s temple. Simon tilted his head to peck him on the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay.”

Minou and a nurse appeared at the doorway to fetch him. Simon glanced back at Wilhelm before following, feeling jittery again. 

Prior to the check-up, he had to fill out many forms and check many boxes, and as Minou explained, he had to give consent for certain test results to be shared with the RC, ‘where the results might have a direct impact on the wellbeing of the Crown Prince, due to the nature of the patient’s relationship to the Crown Prince’. He sighed and signed his name on the form. 

They had him change into a hospital gown and sit in cold chairs in cold rooms. They were testing him for any and all STDs, so he had to provide a urine sample and do a mouth swab. The blood drawing was not as bad as he expected, he was distracted enough with the nurse’s chatter that he didn’t even feel the needle prick. And as much as he would have liked for someone, anyone, to hold his hand, he was glad that Minou was not allowed to be present, since she wasn’t his legal guardian. Plus he wasn’t at that level of trust with her. Yet.

The nurse then led him to another office to meet with the doctor. Dr Prakash was young-ish and had a nice vibe that put Simon at ease. After going over basics, such as allergies (penicillin) or past surgeries (appendectomy), she moved on to the real reason why Simon was there in the first place: his sexual history. 

She asked a lot of questions, including but not limited to how long he had been sexually active (since Wilhelm), how many sex partners he’d had (just Wilhelm), if he had ever had penetrative sex (not yet), and whether he had been previously tested for HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases (yes) and had he ever tested positive for any of them (no). 

She checked his blood pressure, heart and lungs, reflexes, lymph nodes, throat, eyes, ears, etc., asking him questions as she went, about his physical activity, diet, and health habits.

“Any trouble sleeping?”

Simon hesitated. If the only evidence was the last couple of sleepless nights, after talking to Sara, or the sleepless night before the jubilee, or the two sleepless nights after Wilhelm’s speech, when Wilhelm was taken away to Stockholm and he didn’t know what would happen and he was trapped at home, then yes, he had major trouble sleeping. 

The past two sleepless nights had been the worst. The conversation with Sara had left him on edge. Despite Sara approaching them discreetly after lunch that day, just before they set off to Linköping, to let them know that she had talked to the police the previous afternoon and dismissed the report, Simon still felt tense.

What if the police still decided to follow up on the report? What if they didn’t believe Sara? What if they were already investigating? What if it got back to the Royal Court? What if August had already gotten a call from the police…?

He barely managed to focus in class all day. Not just because of the major headache he had, but also feeling sick in his stomach. On top of everything else, he was nervous about the medical appointment. 

It felt like he couldn’t function normally, he couldn’t be relaxed; there was always something to worry about.

As soon as they got back to their room on Sunday night, he dropped his bag by his wardrobe, and wordlessly went about getting ready for bed. He felt a bit hungry, having throwing up his dinner earlier, but also felt too sick to eat anything. He just wanted to sleep; he just wanted to not think about anything. 

Wilhelm seemed aware that he didn’t want to talk, and went about getting ready too. Simon went to the toilet and brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas, without waiting for him. By the time Wilhelm came back from the toilets, Simon was already in his bed, facing the wall, covers up to his ears, eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. 

He listened to Wilhelm brushing his teeth, the rustling of his clothes as he changed, and then after a long pause, the rustling of sheets as Wilhelm climbed into his own bed and lay down. After a moment, the light went off.

It wasn’t right, to sleep in their separate beds all of a sudden. He wasn’t mad at Wilhelm, but he had no energy left to do anything about it. What was he supposed to say, how was he to explain what he was feeling? So he just lay there in the dark, listening, thinking, wishing he could stop thinking. 

An unexpected sound made him perk up, like something metallic sliding across a wooden surface; he heard Wilhelm moving, then nothing. Simon rolled onto his back and looked across the room, eyes half-adjusted to the darkness. He could make out Wilhelm’s shape in bed, lying with his head toward the window, but he wasn’t asleep either. He was twirling an object in his hands, holding it close to his face, something that glinted in the dim light filtering through the fabric of the dark blue curtains. 

“What’s that?” Simon asked, startling himself even. Even as a mere whisper, his voice sounded loud and ringing in the stark silence between them. He saw the silhouette of Wilhelm’s face turn to him in surprise. Simon felt like such a jerk for pretending to be asleep. 

“Oh, it’s, um… this was Erik’s,” Wilhelm said, just as quietly, holding the object toward him, although Simon couldn’t tell what it was in the dark. It just looked like a metallic square. 

“It was his cigarette case… I don’t know why I carry it around, it’s empty. I don’t smoke,” Wilhelm added.

“Hmm,” Simon mumbled. 

“I guess it’s like a… well, not exactly a comfort thing, but… I don’t know, I just… I just need to hold it sometimes…”

Clearly Wilhelm hadn’t intended for Simon to see it. Simon felt like he had just intruded into something intimate, like a private conversation between Wilhelm and his brother. 

Simon had his own comfort object back home, a teddy bear he’d had since he was a toddler, the first toy he had picked out himself at the toy shop; he held on to that teddy even as he got older. Back when his parents were getting divorced, when things with Micke were at their worst, he had really needed that teddy bear, to have it in his bed every night, it comforted him and helped him sleep better. He didn’t need it anymore, but he was so used to it that he still kept it in bed; now that Wilhelm occupied his bed, he relocated teddy to the bedside table. Teddy didn’t need to come with him to Forest Ridge either; Wilhelm’s presence was comforting enough.

He felt his chest tighten. Why did he pretend to be asleep? Why was he okay with letting Wilhelm feel like he should leave him alone? He was shutting Wilhelm out for some reason. He was keeping him away precisely when he needed him most. When they obviously needed each other.

“Can you… could you come over here?” he asked, hesitant, ashamed.

“Um… are you sure? I thought maybe you wanted to be by yourself,” Wilhelm asked. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t-… Please come.”

Wilhelm got out of his bed and treaded the short distance between their beds. Simon scooted over to make room for him, as he climbed in and lay down beside him. He grabbed Wilhelm’s arm and wrapped it around himself, like a security blanket. He was the little spoon. 

Simon felt him settle down slowly behind him, felt the rise and fall of his chest against his back, light fingers clutching at the front of his t-shirt.

He tried to relax into his embrace, but his chest felt tight and painful. 

Then Wilhelm buried his nose into the nape of his neck, into the curls there, and Simon felt the tightness become too much. 

Hot tears pooled in his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep them at bay, feeling them scalding his skin as they spilled down the side of his face and onto the pillow. A sniffled escaped him.

Behind him, Wilhelm lifted his head. “Hey,” he said softly. 

In a flash, Simon rolled over to face him and buried his face in his hands, pressing himself as much as he could into Wilhelm’s whole body, desperate to be held.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Wilhelm mumbled, arms tightly wound around Simon, as Simon began to sob.

“I fucked up…”

“No, no, it’s going to be okay.”

“Sara is right, it’s my fault, this is all my fault…”

“Simon, listen, it’s really going to be okay… We’re going to fix it…”

“I’m so sorry… I fucked this up so bad…”

“Hey, no, listen… I’m sorry too… things got out of our control… but we’ll fix it. I’ll make sure of it, I promise.”

Simon sniffled, trying to calm himself down. “Please… please don’t make promises that you won’t be able to keep.”

“I’m not. I’m not breaking any more promises, I told you.”

“I know… I’m so sorry…”

Simon kept sobbing and saying sorry, sounding almost incoherent, and Wilhelm tried to make him feel better, saying that he was always telling him not to apologize so much, which at least got a small chuckle from Simon. Wilhelm kissed his lips and cheeks and forehead and every spot he could reach with his lips, whispering that everything would be okay, and Simon felt himself relaxing a bit more and more, until he eventually fell asleep, with tears drying on his face. 

He woke up some time later, startled, chest thumping, like he had been having a nightmare, but he couldn’t remember what it was like. He was spooning Wilhelm, his forehead pressed to the back of his head. Wilhelm didn’t stir at all. Simon felt comforted by the feeling of being wrapped around him, by one of Wilhelm’s hands half-holding his, by the rise and fall of his chest. But he couldn’t go back to sleep at all. His eyes stung, and his head throbbed with a headache. 

In the morning he woke up with a sore throat, stuffy nose, head still thumping. He felt and looked awful. Although he reassured Wilhelm that he was okay, he snuck off to the infirmary after breakfast to get a paracetamol, hoping it would actually make him feel better. He felt sick for the rest of the day. 

The following night he didn’t cry himself to sleep, instead spent it staring up at the ceiling. If it hadn’t been for Wilhelm right beside him in the small bed, he probably would have tossed and turned all night. At breakfast he resorted to coffee in the hopes that it would help with the headache, because he didn’t want to go to the infirmary again, in case Wilhelm might notice. 

But Wilhelm still noticed, because Simon never drank coffee, and because he had dark circles under his eyes, and because he was unusually tense during the day. 

The last thing Simon wanted was for Wilhelm to be concerned about him. They both had enough to worry about already. 

“Simon?”

Simon was startled back to the present, his eyes focusing on the doctor in front of him.

“Sorry, eh, no,” he answered. “The answer is no.”

“Are you sure? It’s okay if you are. Changing sleeping habits are quite common for people your age. And I’m told that you’re adjusting to new living arrangements, it would not be uncommon if you experienced some disturbance in your sleeping habits. We could perhaps do an evaluation, to determine if it can be sorted out with some therapy, or if we should prescribe any-”

“No, no, sorry, no, no, not necessary, there’s no trouble at all,” he said quickly. He didn’t want any evaluation, he didn’t want anyone analyzing his sleeping patterns, and he definitely didn’t want any prescription medication.

“Okay.” Dr Prakash offered a tight smile. 

She moved on to his family medical history: cancer, diabetes, hypertension, heart conditions, epilepsy, or any other conditions. 

“Is there a family history of mental illness? Substance abuse, depression?”

He again hesitated before he said yes. Dr Prakash was a lot more thorough with her follow up questions than his regular doctor at the clinic where his mother worked. Simon wondered if he should be vague. What if the Royal Court had access to this information, even if he hadn’t consented to it? So he answered as concisely as he could: his father, a work injury, chronic pain, ADHD medication, pain medication, antidepressants, alcohol abuse, no one else in the family, not even coffee in his case… 

The doctor was writing on her laptop for a long time whilst Simon got dressed again. Once he was back, she turned her laptop to him and showed him a file named ‘Eriksson, Simon E’, followed by the date and a series of numbers. The results of the rapid tests were negative for HIV, Hepatitis B and C.

“Okay, good,” Simon said. 

“Hemoglobin is good, blood count is good…” she said, pointing to the screen as she showed him the results. “We should have the rest of your results between tomorrow and the end of the week. We will send them to the email you provided.”

Simon nodded. He was sure his personal email was not the only one where the results would be sent. He wondered if Minou would receive them directly or if there was a Royal Court email address designated for intimate partners of royal family members.

“In the meantime,” Dr Prakash said, handing him her business card, “you can contact me with any questions or concerns. You should always talk to your family physician, especially if you trust them or have known them much longer, but now you also have me. If there are any issues to look into, my recommendation is to do it as soon as possible, before they become bigger problems.”

She led him toward the door. “I know these are special circumstances, but outside of the things you consented to be shared with a third party, doctor-patient confidentiality still applies, so you can talk to me about anything you want,” she said. “Or if you’d rather talk to someone else, someone you trust, please do. The important thing is to reach out. We’re always here to help.”

Simon thanked her again and walked out. 

He knew what she was insinuating, and it probably had to do with the massive dark circles under his eyes. 

Wilhelm was in the waiting room, exactly where Simon had left him. He had a coffee in one hand and his phone on the other, but he was spaced out, only coming back into himself when Simon approached.

“Elisa went on a coffee run, I asked her to get you a cold beverage,” he said, offering him a can of Coke. Simon sat beside him and gratefully accepted it. He drank almost half of it in one gulp, refreshed by the cold, sweet liquid. A relieved sigh and a burp escaped him, making Wilhelm laugh.

“You okay?” he asked. Simon nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Nah.”

“And… what did the doctor…?” Wilhelm shook his head. “Wait, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Simon smiled. “She said everything looks good. Most results will come later, but everything seems fine.”

Wilhelm grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Good.”

Minou came in and told them to finish their drinks so they could go on to their appointment with the sex ed doctor. Wilhelm and Simon decided to take their sweet time sipping their coffee and Coke. 

“I made a list of questions to ask the sex ed doctor, I’m thinking that if we don’t ask anything they might not stop,” Wilhelm said, showing Simon notes he had taken on his phone. “Also I thought it would be funny to throw some weird questions in there.”

Simon snickered at some of them. He figured he’d probably let Wilhelm do most of the asking, since he was too tired to come up with questions himself. 

“Just to be clear, ‘does masturbation make your penis larger or smaller?’, is that one of the funny ones or genuine curiosity?” Simon said. Wilhelm stuck his tongue out at him and yanked the phone out of his hand. 

Reluctantly, they finished their drinks and got up and followed Minou down a hallway. They entered an empty office and sat in the two chairs across the desk waiting for the doctor, looking around at all the objects on the shelves; there were models of male and female reproductive systems, a model of a baby inside a womb, models of the male and female sex organs, and two cabinets, one of them stocked with boxes and boxes of condoms, the other one with an assortment of period products. 

But most remarkably, on the desk in front of them were what looked like a sculpted gesso model of a penis with a square base, and a variety of sex toys, including a flesh-colored dildo with a suction cup base, more dildos in other colors and sizes, and two brightly-colored battery-operated vibrators and, all laid out in a row. It was the first thing they both noticed when they came in; they tried to look at anything else, but their eyes drifted insistently back at the desk. 

The door opened, and a small brunette doctor in pink scrubs walked into the office. 

“Good afternoon, Crown Prince and Simon, very nice to meet you,” she greeted them. She had a very soft, high-pitched voice, and with her hair in a bun on top of her head, she had an air of a young ballerina. She introduced herself as Dr Olsson, and gave them an overview of what they would cover that day, starting at the basics. 

“Alright, let’s get started,” she said in her soft lilt, picked up the dildo and slammed the base onto the desk so it would stick to the surface and stand erect, then turned around to fetch a box of condoms from the cabinet. Wilhelm and Simon flinched simultaneously and covered their mouths with their hands to keep from laughing; they looked at each other and, still hiding behind their hands, mouthed to each other ‘Dr Skrulle’, and Simon almost snorted, whilst Wilhelm had to breathe deep and clear his throat to control himself. Dr Olsson either didn’t notice or merely ignored them. 

She began explaining the male and female anatomies and reproductive systems, reproductive cycles, sexually transmitted diseases, etc. Then she talked about safe sex, especially in the context of sex between men, with emphasis on consent and trust and communication. She explained different barrier methods, and illustrated the correct way of putting on a condom on both the sculpted penis and the dildo. Simon had no idea how they both managed to keep straight faces as she unrolled a condom over a flesh-colored dildo but also over a penis that looked like it had been detached from an ancient Roman sculpture. 

And then she went on to talk about sexual pleasure, specifically all the different ways that men can experience pleasure, and Simon started feeling a little warm around his ears and neck, hoping that it wasn’t noticeable. Even though she spoke clinically and matter-of-factly, in her gentle high-pitched voice, Simon couldn’t help but picture everything vividly in his mind. So when she went into the specifics of anal sex, Simon started to sweat. 

He and Wilhelm hadn’t talked about anal sex before, they had barely talked about sex at all, outside of the context of what they wanted in the moment; to them it was just going with the flow, knowing how to get each other off. They hadn’t been very adventurous because they hadn’t had enough time yet to be. Whenever they had the chance to fuck, they just did, however they felt like it, whatever worked for them.

Maybe that was part of the reason why sex with each other was good, even though it was the first time for both, and they had been together for a very short time. They just got each other, they picked up on what worked for the other without needing to talk too much. They instinctively went well together, and it was incredible. 

But Simon would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of doing other stuff. 

Except that the logistics made it a little daunting. As the doctor talked about the different types of lubes and preparation work and foreplay and erogenous zones and sexual positions and using sex toys and what to do afterwards and what to be aware of, he wondered if it was worth all the trouble. 

To his surprise, when the doctor asked if they had any questions, Wilhelm did not resort to his funny notes at all. Instead, he spoke in a very tentative voice. Simon did not venture a look at Wilhelm the entire time, feeling a bit embarrassed about his reddening ears and neck; when he finally did, he noticed that Wilhelm was slightly red-faced too. His questions only made Simon blush harder.

“Umm… when it comes to anal sex… how can the person giving be sure that the person receiving is also really on board, and not just trying to please the other person? I mean, as in, just to make the other person happy, but maybe they don’t really want to… do it?”

Dr Olsson repeated what she said about trust and respect and communication, and emphasized on the different ways to express consent, and how to reinforce that consent throughout the act. 

“You can’t have true pleasure if you don’t have trust,” she said.

Wilhelm and Simon nodded, not looking at each other.

“Just like sex isn’t for everyone, anal sex is not necessarily for everyone either,” Dr Olsson continued. “But if this is something that you would really like to try, and you’re both ready and willing at the same time, then I would suggest that you start by doing some research together, looking more into the different aspects of it, anything that you want to really understand, and then if you’re still sure, starting out by trying different types of foreplay, going little by little, seeing what you each like and don’t like. The important thing is to keep the communication flowing, and create an environment of trust, so that both parties can feel reassured, and it’s always about the pleasure of both, but also reassuring if one wants to back out and try another time, they can feel safe in expressing this.”

There was a long pause.

“And then,” Wilhelm began again, “is there any way that the person giving… can make sure that the person receiving doesn’t… feel any pain?”

Simon bit his lip. Hands clasped on his lap, he slid them between his thighs and squeezed them together, shoulders tense, one knee bobbing up and down again. 

“There is unfortunately no guarantee of that, and at least the first time can often be slightly painful or uncomfortable, but not necessarily,” Dr Olsson explained. “After all, every person is different, bodies are different. But if the right measures are taken beforehand, and if the person receiving can relax, relax the muscles, relax the whole body, then it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable, and it shouldn’t cause too much pain, or any at all, and it can actually be really pleasurable,” she added. “It might take a little bit of getting used to it, I know that it can be a bit scary to think of it, and it might feel very different and unexpected. That’s why preparation is key, experimentation is key. And taking your time, not rushing into it, is also key.” 

After another long pause, in which it was clear that Wilhelm wasn’t going to ask anything else, he kind of glanced over at Simon. Dr Olsson also turned to him. “Simon, do you have any questions?”

Simon shook his head and hoped that he looked as nonchalant as he intended. “Nope… I think everything is clear.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay then.”

When Simon snuck a glance at Wilhelm, his eyes were fixed on the doctor, and he was biting his nail. 

Before they left her office, Dr Olsson handed each an identical package with handy guides, information, links to websites, and more to peruse later, and a variety of condoms. She also handed each her card and told them they were free to contact her with any questions. 

Minou informed them that she would be contacting them about other appointments to add to their agenda. Before sending them off, she presented them with a dark blue box, about the size of a shoe box, with no writing on it whatsoever.

“This is for you to peruse later. Make sure to have Malin or Joakim carry it up to your dorm room. Do not open it before then.”

Wilhelm grabbed it and turned red immediately. Simon could already imagine what it probably contained. 

Once in the car, Simon texted his mother to let her know how everything went, and that they were on their way back to Hillerska. Wilhelm was texting with someone too, presumably Felice; Simon realized that they hadn’t said a word to each other since before Dr Olsson started talking. There was a palpable, purposeful silence between them.

They would be back at Hillerska just in time for dinner, but Wilhelm asked if they stop for snacks somewhere in Linköping. After all the hassle he went through, Simon had to admit that he was a bit hungry. They drove past the Japanese restaurant where Wilhelm bought the food for their picnic date the previous week, but Malin and Joakim deemed it was too packed. Instead, they found a small boba tea shop on the next block that was empty enough.

Wilhelm was a bit like a kid in a toy shop, looking at all the snacks. Simon stood at the counter looking at the boba tea menu. He had only ever tried the canned boba tea, the only kind available in Bjärstad, which he assumed was not as good as the freshly-made stuff. He finally settled on the classic milk tea, mostly because it was black tea, so it hopefully had enough caffeine to keep him going. 

Wilhelm came over with an armful of savory and sweet snacks, placed them on the counter and ordered something called galaxy lychee and strawberry boba tea. Malin gave him a weird look and shook her head when he asked if she or Joakim wanted anything.

“How do you know if you like boba or not if you don’t try it?” Wilhelm teased as he paid for their order. 

“I’ll survive,” Malin quipped. 

They sat in a booth waiting for their order. Behind them, in the next booth, a group of mostly Asian teenagers and two very blond boys were chattering and laughing, unaware of the occupants in the other booth. Until one of them walked past them to fetch her order from the counter and glanced at them, probably wondering why there was a woman in a suit standing beside them. As she was walking back holding a very bright blue beverage, she looked up and did a double-take, and her eyes widened as she seemingly recognized them. 

Simon looked down at the table. Wilhelm was intently analyzing one of the packets of crisps he bought. 

“Maybe we should have waited in the car,” Simon muttered. Somewhere behind him, the chatter quieted and he heard a female voice say the word ‘prince’. He couldn’t see the kids behind them, but he could feel them discreetly turning to look at them.

“Do you want to try these?” Wilhelm asked, offering the packet to Simon. “I can’t figure out if they’re spicy or super spicy. I guess I’ll find out when I eat them.”

”Should we have?” Simon asked. 

“Should we what?”

“Have waited in the car.”

Wilhelm looked confused. “Why?”

“Because… um…” Simon gestured toward the booth behind them, “I think they just recognized us.”

“Does that bother you?” Wilhelm asked. Simon shrugged.

“Umm… no?”

Wilhelm was about to say something else, when the girl behind the counter gestured that their drinks were ready. Wilhelm stood up to fetch them, whilst Malin gestured to Simon that they were leaving. Simon watched as Wilhelm thanked the girl, and as soon as he turned his back on her, the girl shot a look at the other person behind the counter, and they mouthed something at each other. 

They stood aside as a couple of people walked in. They also did a double-take as they walked past. Malin quickly opened the door for them and led them to the car. 

“Are you worried about being recognized?” Wilhelm asked once they were back in the car.

Simon let out a sigh. “I… I don’t know… should I be? I have no idea. I don’t… I don’t really know the rules of this.” 

“Rules of what?”

This,” Simon said, gesturing at themselves and the shop that they were leaving behind. “The rules of, of… of being together, being public now… I don’t know…”

“There are no rules,” Wilhelm answered. He looked too calm in Simon’s opinion. Maybe he was overthinking, but it definitely felt like Wilhelm wasn’t thinking at all. 

“Yes, there are,” Simon said, somewhat bitter. “There has to be. The RC probably has a very long list of them. So if you don’t know them, then I definitely don’t. But it feels like somebody should tell me.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath and turned his body toward him. 

“We’re not a secret anymore, Simon. Sure, we have to be careful and there are more logistics involved in visiting certain places, and unfortunately, yeah, people might recognize us and maybe take pictures and stuff, and it’s annoying, but we’re not doing anything. We were just sitting in there eating chips and waiting for our boba tea. Nothing wrong with that.”

Simon didn’t feel too sure. Out of the ‘safety’ of Hillerska, or his house, he didn’t know what to do, how to act. He worried that the Royal Court would be on his case about it, and he had enough to worry about already.

“Look,” Wilhelm started, “I know what you’re wondering. It’s along the lines of, should we be seeng holding hands or kissing or hugging in public, right? The answer is… I’m not much for public displays of affection, because I know people are watching, and they don’t get to watch. But honestly, I don’t care, we do what we want, because it’s ridiculous, nobody else has to worry about those things, so why should we? And as for who sees us, I would probably be a bit more worried about running into the press, because they can be real pests, and they write all kinds of shit. But those kids? They’re the least of my concerns.”

“Okay,” Simon said with a relieved breath.

Wilhelm looked thoughtfully at his boba tea and took a sip. He offered it to Simon. With a smile, grabbed it and sipped it. 

“Hm, yum. But I think I’ll stick with mine,” he said. Wilhelm opened his mouth to say something, but instead just smiled and continued sipping his boba tea. 

Simon heard Wilhelm’s phone vibrate in his pocket, but Wilhelm didn’t look at it. 

Dinner had already started at Forest Ridge when they arrived back. As they walked in and went to get food, Lukas begrudgingly grabbed his plate and vacated the seat that had now officially become Wilhelm’s, and went to sit on the other side of the table. 

Despite feeling quite full from the boba tea, they grabbed a bit of vegetables and fish, and sat at the table. Simon watched as Wilhelm pushed a piece of carrot around his plate.

“Is everything okay?” Simon whispered to him. Before Wilhelm could respond, Henry leaned over to talk to them.

“So, where were you guys all day?” He asked casually. Simon rolled his eyes and turned to him. 

“Why? Did we miss something interesting?” He asked just as casually. He didn’t want to be rude to Henry, or any of his new housemates, so he was trying out diplomatic ways to imply ‘none of your business’, like answering a question with another question.

Henry was disconcerted. “Um… no, not really, just… just wondering why you both skipped class after lunch.”

“We didn’t skip class, we had permission.”

“Oh,” Henry said, still bewildered, “yeah, okay, I see, but… what was it for? Where’d you go?”

Simon took a deep breath and decided on being mysterious this time. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

Wilhelm pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. A confused Henry stared down at his plate and said nothing else. 

The chatter in the dining room died down as people finished eating and left. Simon noticed that Wilhelm had barely eaten before he pushed his plate away, waiting for Simon so they could head out. He wasn’t going to mention it when there were still other boys around.

“Wille, what’s going on? You’ve been really quiet,” Simon said once they were back in their room. 

Wilhelm toed off his shoes and placed them neatly by his wardrobe, making a confused face. “No, I haven’t.” He retorted nonchalantly, sitting on the edge of his bed.

Simon went to put his jacket on the back of the chair and spotted the blue box, which Joakim had brought up and placed on the desk. He turned away from it and faced Wilhelm, crossing his arms. “Well, I can tell something’s bothering you, and the fact that you’re not telling me worries me.” 

“No… no, don’t be.”

“Was it something that I said earlier?”

Wilhelm’s eyes widened slightly. “No, no,” he said, shaking his head., but then he twisted his mouth. “Well… maybe… but not bothering me like you said something wrong or anything like that, just…” He sighed. 

“Was it the thing about the rules?”

“Yeah, but just because… I’m a bit sad that you felt like you have to worry about that.”

Simon scratched his neck. “Well, I’m just trying to get the hang of it, you know? I’m not exactly worried, but… I don’t want to give the RC a reason to give me a lecture.”

Wilhelm groaned. “Ugh, screw the RC. I hate that you feel that way. I know Minou can be really intense, but you need to remember not to let her- let them- take over your life,” he said. “And you shouldn’t just do things thinking about what the RC would say or think about it. And I’m always going to be worried that you’re forcing yourself to do things that the RC asks you to do-”

Simon scoffed. “When have I ever done anything that I didn’t want to do just because of the RC?”

Wilhelm threw up his hands. “Well, like today! I mean, you didn’t have to do this whole thing, you could have said ‘no’. You didn’t have to get a bunch of tests or a check-up or any-”

“I know, but I don’t want to say ‘no’ to absolutely everything, just because I’m annoyed,” Simon answered. “Maybe I’m saving up a ‘no’ for a more crucial thing. And I get why they needed me to do the tests. It’s about your safety, isn’t it? They want to make sure that I don’t have anything that I might pass on to you. I’m assuming they know that I was with Marcus recently, but they probably don’t know if I had sex with him or something. And it would be plain decency from me to get checked out if I did.”

Simon caught the look on Wilhelm’s face, a slightly wide-eyed look, lips pressed together. He rolled his eyes at him. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but-”

“Nope, no, it’s not-”

“But we didn’t.”

“Oh well, good- I mean… not my business-”

“Stop smiling.”

“I’m not smiling,” Wilhelm said, definitely smiling, and trying but failing to stop. “It’s just funny that you keep saying it’s none of my business, just like it wasn’t your business either if anything happened with me and Felice that time, and yet you still- Ooof!”

Simon shoved Wilhelm by the shoulder so hard that Wilhelm fell back onto the bed. 

“When will you stop bringing that up?” Simon groaned, trying not to smirk. Wilhelm grinned, looking up at the ceiling.

“Never. You were sending such mixed signals,” he answered, tucking his arms behind his head and letting out a sigh. “I still can’t believe how much you wanted to pretend to be over me but you hadn’t.”

“Idiot,” Simon said, sitting next to him. Wilhelm propped himself up onto his elbows.

“I meant that, even if you had been with Marcus or anyone else, or I had been with Felice or someone else, or we both had,” he started tentatively, “if we wanted to get tested, we could have done that on our own. You didn’t have to do all the things that the RC asked today. And you didn’t have to agree on them getting your test results.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Simon said, before his common sense kicked in. “Is it?”

“Simon, the RC just made us take a sex ed refresher and gave us a box of condoms and lube, without asking us if we wanted any of it, because they assume that we’re having all kinds of sex, and they apparently need to make it their business. They might be concerned about privacy violations from everyone else, but I don’t exactly get a lot of privacy from them, and I’m sure if they could have their way, you wouldn’t either.”

Simon stared at the aforementioned box again. Maybe Wilhelm was right. 

“I don’t mean to make you feel bad about it,” Wilhelm continued. “And I’m a little touched that you would go through with this for my benefit, for our benefit, but honestly, I would personally prefer it if you made it a little difficult for them, if you annoyed them a little more. And if you need me to intervene, I will one hundred percent do it.”

Simon rubbed his face, feeling tired and confused. “I get it. I’ll get the hang of it,” he said, but he was starting to doubt if he’d ever get used to this. “Right now it’s… still overwhelming. It’s a lot at the same time, all the time. But don’t worry.”

He realized he was constantly having to say the same thing, reassuring Wilhelm that his quarrel was with the Royal Court, not with him. Just like Wilhelm seemed to be apologizing all the time now, Simon was always telling him not to worry.

He could do it, he totally could. If diplomacy failed him, he could resort to stubbornness. Maybe he’d break them before they broke him. 

Who would have thought that he’d go from calling out the monarchy to learning to deal with it on a daily basis?

However, the mental struggle was starting to take its toll on him.

He twisted his body toward Wilhelm. “But that talk with Dr Olsson wasn’t bad,” he said. 

Wilhelm nodded slowly, glancing at him for a moment. Or rather glancing at something beyond Simon’s head, but close enough that it looked for a moment like he had met his eyes, but he hadn’t been able to. 

“You got very quiet after that.”

Wilhelm met his eyes this time, chuckling. “Me? You were even more quiet. You didn’t ask any questions.”

“Because I felt that it was informative enough. And you asked some that I might have asked too, so…”

Wilhelm let out another small chuckle, but he was again looking at anything but at Simon. And Simon noticed. 

“Talk to me,” he started, then tried to imitate Dr Olsson’s soft lilt. “Communication is key. Trust is key.”

At least it elicited another chuckle from Wilhelm.

“It’s just…” he started, “it was an… overwhelming amount of information.”

“Oh, I see,” Simon said. “Did Dr Skrulle spook you a bit?”

Wilhelm let out a more genuine laugh, making Simon laugh too. He was a bit surprised that Wilhelm got the SKAM reference, and even made it himself. Had Wilhelm watched the whole series? Did he relate more to Isak or Even? For him, it was a bit to both, although Rosh always teased him that he was more of a Sana.

Maybe one of these days they could rewatch the whole show together. 

“No, not spooked, but… well… maybe a little bit…” he stammered. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m ready for that… yet. And I… I hope that’s okay,”

“Oh good, neither am I,” Simon said, letting out a relieved sigh. 

“Oh okay. It just… it feel like it’s… too soon, and it’s a bit… um… it felt like a lot…” Wilhelm had somehow managed to go a bit pale whilst simultaneously bright red around his ears. Simon’s own neck and ears felt warm all of a sudden. But he was also glad to know that he wasn’t the only one freaking out about that. 

“Wille, it’s okay. I know we’ve been having a lot of difficult conversations, and we’ll probably have many more, but this doesn’t have to be one of those.”

“Okay.”

Simon clasped their hands together. 

“Just to be clear…” Simon started. 

Wilhelm squirmed. “Oh God…”

“No, don’t freak out. I’m not asking for a timeline or anything. I just want to make sure if maybe, like… should I never bring it up again or…?”

“No, no… it’s not that I… I don’t know when, but eventually… I may be overthinking or overreacting or both, but…” Wilhelm’s shoulders were so tense now that they would be covering his ears any moment. “It’s… it… it’s like… the preparation, and the fact that it can be painful, and does anyone actually find that… pleasurable? I get that it probably does feel good, and, and, and it’s probably not as bad as I think, but right now, I can’t even figure out…”

Simon watched him, curious. This was another level of awkward from Wilhelm. He was so relaxed and confident talking about sex during sex, but talking about it in another context brought out a prudish side of him, one Simon always expected from a royal.

But then again, he felt the exact same way. He had, after all, been many shades of pink throughout Dr Olsson’s entire spiel.

“I get it. It’s like… have you ever watched porn and wondered… if it’s really like that, if it really might feel as good as they’re making it seem, or if it’s just… acting?” He asked, his cheeks hot. 

Wilhelm sighed and nodded. “Yeah exactly… like… it’s one thing watching it, and seeing people look like they’re enjoying themselves, but it’s porn, it’s fake… and then it’s another completely different thing trying to imagine yourself doing that… and what it might feel like… because, like… it doesn’t really look like both people are actually… enjoying themselves…”

Simon nodded. He had his own qualms about the porn industry, and he agreed that it often looked fake; the first few times that he had watched gay porn, part of the thrill was not getting caught, and getting off to the fantasy of what it might feel like, to have someone touch him like that, to be naked with another man. 

But after he realized he was able to conjure more elaborate fantasies in his mind without the aid of porn, the next time he had access to it, he spent half of the time wondering why the people were choosing to fuck there in that position, and why did it look so uncomfortable, and why did they make so much noise, and why did they talk like that, and why did it look so… aggressive…

Having sex for the first time with Wilhelm had been none of those things. It had been a little awkward, and they had both been so nervous, and of course finding out later that they had been filmed had probably tainted the experience forever, but it had felt so right. It had been exciting and tender and hot and clumsy and mind-blowing and absolutely perfect. He wouldn’t change anything about it. 

Except, of course, the part where they got filmed. Which, ironically, everyone acted like it had been a porn video.

It had been nothing like porn. It had been far better than even any fantasy that had ever played out in his mind. 

“I think right now, the idea of it is absolutely nerve-wrecking, no matter how much information I read on it,” Wilhelm said, beyond pale now. “Because… if I hurt you in any way, I would- I don’t think I could handle it, I’d be terrified- Why are you smiling?”

Simon couldn’t help it. To see such a visceral reaction from Wilhelm was endearing.

“Why are you so sure that you would hurt me?”

“I don’t- it’s not that I think I would- I would never want to hurt you- but you…” Wilhelm was shaking his head so much that he looked like a bobble-head toy, “you could still… feel pain… no matter how much I try not to- and I… I can’t do that…”

Simon rested his chin on Wilhelm’s shoulder, one hand threading the short hair on the back of his neck.

“You could never hurt me,” he said. 

Wilhelm pressed their temples together and sighed. “Never.”

Simon licked his lips. “But…” he started softly, “what if I really like it… what if it’s a good kind of pain-”

“Stop, please, I can’t-” Wilhelm recoiled, and Simon had to wrap his arms around him tightly to keep him from squirming away.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll stop,” he said, biting his lip to keep from smiling. “It’s fine. We don’t have to talk about that anymore.”

“Yeah, I said I didn’t want to, and yet here we are…”

“Not another word about it, I promise.”

Wilhelm relaxed in his embrace again.

“I’m sorry.”

Simon dropped his head back in mock disappointment. “Oooooh so close… you were doing so well,” he groaned. “You hadn’t said ‘sorry’ even once. I thought you’d make it through the day.”

Wilhelm chuckled. “I know…”

Simon turned his body so that he could look at Wilhelm face to face, but kept his hand on the back of Wilhelm’s head, fingers caressing his neck. “You don’t have to be sorry. Even if we didn’t agree on this, you shouldn’t have to apologize. If one of us isn’t ready, then we’re both not ready.”

Wilhelm seemed even more relieved.

Simon stood up and went to grab the blue box from the desk. He lifted the lid and glanced inside, out of curiosity. There was a dark blue velvet cover, which made it look like the contents were a luxury item. He lifted that and his eyes widened. On one side, the box was stacked with boxes and boxes of condoms, of different colors and sizes, all in neat rows. On the other side were a variety of lubes, at least a dozen bottles. How much lube did the Royal Court assume they were currently using? 

“Let’s just put this away, we won’t be needing it for a while,” he said, closing and picking up the box, to store it in his wardrobe in the meantime. “The RC seem to overestimate our sexual prowess,” he said, placing it at the bottom, by his shoes. 

“Please don’t mention them in any sentence with the word ‘sexual’ in it,” Wilhelm groaned. 

Simon smirked. “Do you think your mum might have had any-”

“NO! SHUT UP! STOP! NO!” Wilhelm’s hand flew up to cover his ears, causing Simon to double over with laughter. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, regaining his breath, and sitting beside Wilhelm again. 

“I won’t bring it up again. You tell me if you want talk about it, okay?” He smiled, a hand going up to push a lock of hair out of Wilhelm’s forehead. “And if or when we do, we follow Dr Olsson’s advice and just learn as much as we can about it, see if we really want to try or not. And if it’s not for us, then… it’s not for us.” 

“Okay,” Wilhelm whispered. It wasn’t just the cumbersome logistics and preparation and the fact that they were in a boarding house and privacy was hard to come by (Felice had repeated to them the rumors that their housemates claimed to hear them going at it loudly every single night, which was pure exaggeration), but also they had only been back together less than two weeks, and this opened up a whole new level of intimacy between them that they didn’t really need to deal with right now, that he frankly didn’t want to deal with at the moment.  

But later, of course, when it felt right. 

“I mean, why even bother right now?” He said. “I like the way that we do things now. I like what we have going on.”

“Me too,” Wilhelm replied, smiling. 

Simon turned off the hot water and wrapped a towel around himself. 

After being tense and cold sitting in chilly rooms in a clinic wearing a hospital gown for part of the afternoon, he badly needed a hot shower. It felt like the cold had seeped all the way into his bones.

And he was tired, so tired. 

Maybe the hot shower would help him sleep that night. Or he’d have to start thinking about giving Dr Prakash a call. 

The bathroom was otherwise deserted. Wilhelm had come by earlier to use the toilets, and no one else had come by since. It was getting late, but most of the boys were still up, hanging out in the common rooms. 

Simon dried off and got dressed in his pajamas, squeezing the water out of his hair with the towel as he treaded back to their dorm room. He could hear voices floating from the common room at the end of the hallway. 

He had yet to set foot in the common room. If he became an official boarder, perhaps he’d have to eventually. There was no way to not interact with the other boys in the house. He couldn’t hide in his room forever.

More importantly, he couldn’t expect Wilhelm to stay in his room forever, with just him for company. Wilhelm used to hang out in the common rooms, with his housemates. Perhaps he only stopped on account of Simon. Or maybe it was just weird now. For both.

After all, what if August or Alexander were there? Or Vincent? Or Nils? Or… When he thought about it, Simon couldn’t stand most people in that house. He could barely tolerate Walter and Henry and Lukas.

How was he supposed to live in a place where he couldn’t bring himself to interact with anyone besides his boyfriend?

As if he had summoned him with his thoughts, the door diagonal to their room opened, and Alexander came out of his room, and froze. Simon met his eyes for a moment, but the other boy immediately lowered his gaze. Without a word, Alexander awkwardly turned on his heel and walked down the hallway, toward the common room. 

Simon stood there, water dripping from his hair onto the towel around his shoulders, bundle of clothes in his arms, staring after him as he went. 

He opened the door to his room and stepped in. 

Wilhelm was lying in Simon’s bed, curled up on one side, facing the wall. Simon couldn’t see his face, and for a moment he wondered if Wilhelm was pretending to be asleep. Like Simon had done a couple of nights earlier. 

But when he walked over to his wardrobe to put away his clothes, Wilhelm lifted his head and greeted him in a breathy voice. Maybe he had been falling asleep, not pretending.

“Hey, I thought you were asleep already.”

“Nah, just thinking, waiting for you.” 

Simon smiled, relieved. He walked over to the sink and brushed his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his phone on the desk, the screen lighting up with notifications. He groaned to himself; of course he’d check, in case it was his mother, but if they were from Minou, he was ignoring them until the morning. He rinsed his mouth. 

Wilhelm rolled onto his back and reached out a hand toward him, asking him to come to bed. Simon first grabbed his phone and checked; a ‘good night, mi amor’ text from his mother, and about twelve notifications from the Royal Court aide, including the message that he had gotten during dinner but hadn’t replied to, and several emails. He left it on the same spot and sat on the edge of the bed, and continued to towel his hair dry with one hand, whilst holding Wilhelm’s hand with his other. 

“Thinking about what?”

Wilhelm didn’t answer, instead his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, his fingers intertwining with Simon’s, playing with them. 

“Hey,” he whispered. Wilhelm met his eyes. 

“You didn’t tell me what was really bothering you earlier.”

“I told you part of it…”

Simon shot him a look before climbing in beside him, wrapping an arm around Wilhelm’s torso. He noticed the little round bandaid in the crook of his elbow, which the nurse stuck there after drawing his blood, and which he forgot to remove it before showering. 

Wilhelm watched him as he pulled it off with his fingers and folded it and tossed it onto the desk, too lazy to get up and put it in the bin. He curled back into Wilhelm’s side. They had their fencing tryouts the next day, and he really hoped he’d be able to sleep tonight, otherwise he’d feel awful tomorrow. He didn’t want to completely embarrass himself in front of a potential new sports team. 

“I know it wasn’t just about the RC,” he muttered. He felt the deep rise and fall of Wilhelm’s chest as he let out a tired sigh. 

“Everything is about the RC,” Wilhelm whispered. He sighed again, like he was resigning himself to something. He turned a bit onto his side toward Simon. 

“My mother started texting me today, and asked me if I have considered doing military training after graduation. She was also telling me about me joining the RC meetings during Easter, and possibly doing a tour during the summer holidays, my first tour as crown prince…”

Simon was already overwhelmed. Military training? RC meetings? A tour?

“Where?” He asked tentatively.

“Not sure. Maybe just around the country, or to Nordic countries. But… she didn’t specify if I would go on my own.”

Simon frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be eighteen for that?” He asked tentatively. Wilhelm let out a derisive chuckle.

“I was also supposed to be eighteen before I gave my first speech,” he noted. “Erik did, at least. In fact, he didn’t even do his first official public appearances or international travels until after he graduated from Hillerska. But obviously Erik didn’t have to make up for… things.”

Simon felt a pang of guilt. Too vividly he remembered accusing Wilhelm of getting off easily from the aftermath of the video, whilst he was the one still having to deal with the consequences; what he hadn’t known at the time was all the ways in which Wilhelm was being forced to carry that same weight in silence. 

“But anyway she was asking me about that,” Wilhelm continued, “and asking me whether I was considering uni here in Sweden or abroad, and she said something along the lines of, like, if we are still together by then… she said ‘in the case that you and Simon are still together when you both go to uni’, and it…”

Simon suddenly understood. “Oh…”

“I just know that the RC will start asking us questions so they can map out our entire lives. And you’ve been so patient so far, and I’m sorry if I questioned your reason for consenting to the RC’s thing today, because I know you wouldn’t just let them take over your life, but… I keep thinking, you may be holding your ground right now, but it’s just going to get more intense and overwhelming, and you might not be prepared for it. And I still think it’s best if you find these things out from me, before you hear them from them. Anyway, this is not the best time to talk about it, but I needed get this off my chest, or I might not be able to sleep.” 

He said all this really fast, almost in a single breath. Simon could tell how anxious he was and how hard he was pretending not to be. He could tell by his tense jaw, by the way he was breathing. Like he would start hyperventilating soon. Simon was also familiar with that horrible feeling, of a thing rattling around in his head, sitting heavily on his chest, as he stared at the ceiling, helpless, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

“I see.”

Wilhelm turned fully toward him now. “I just don’t want to have to talk about these things with you, and I know that this-”

“Why don’t you want to talk about them with me?” Simon asked. Wilhelm slapped his own forehead and rolled onto his back.

“Wait, no, that came out wrong… It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… um… it’s hard.”

“Why?” 

Wilhelm rubbed his own chest, trying to ease his own anxiety. “Simon… this is terrifying to talk about.” 

Simon bit his lip and tentatively placed a hand over Wilhelm’s, not to stop it, but to be comforting. 

“It doesn’t have to be terrifying,” he said. Wilhelm grabbed his hand and sat up, facing him. 

“Of course it is. It’s really fucking terrifying to ask you to consider these things at all, now. Look, I know what is expected of me, even if I don’t… really know what I want. My whole life it’s been drilled into me that ideally I help expand the line of succession. And now… now that line ends with me. So I haven’t really ever thought about my future in terms of what I want, but what is needed of me. It’s hard to try to think about it anyway, I have other things in my mind, like schoolwork and doing well in the fencing tryouts tomorrow. And so do you, and in a normal situation, you wouldn’t probably even be thinking about any of these things at all.”

“How do you know?”

Wilhelm shot him a look, and Simon rolled his eyes. 

“Fine, yeah, I’ve never thought about it. Not in like a realistic way at least.”

It wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed his mind at all ever since he started learning what it meant to date a royal, but it felt like such an abstract, intangible thing. Never would he have imagined that he’d fall in love with a classmate at sixteen, and would be expected to figure out if he wanted to become a husband and a father. 

Simon sat up slowly too. “What I meant is that, it doesn’t have to be a difficult conversation.”

Wilhelm rubbed his eyes. 

“So when you say ‘future’, you mean uni,” Simon started, “but… do you also mean more long-term stuff? Like… like marriage and babies? Or beyond that…?”

“All of the above. All the stuff that neither of us is thinking of, but I’m supposed to, and now you’re expected to.”

Simon nodded slowly. “And the reason why they’re going to start pressuring us into thinking about these things when we’re only sixteen, is it more related to the fact that we’re both boys, and the shitstorm that it’s caused, and the media attention, et cetera, and so now they need us to be perfect to make up for all of that… or is it always like this?”

“All of the above.”

Simon nodded again, thoughtfully. He didn’t want to be upset, but it was a lot to ask of anyone. It wasn’t really a surprise that the Royal Court urgently needed to know if they were planning on being together forever, despite the fact that they were sixteen and had only been back together for a little over a week. That was probably not an issue for them. 

Simon guessed that it had something to do with the fact that there had never been a same-sex royal wedding in any of the European monarchies (or at least that’s what Ayub found out from that online magazine). And he guessed that, if they married, some laws would need to change for them to be able to have children and continue the line of succession. And he guessed that it also probably, most likely, absolutely, definitely had something to do with the video scandal, and making them look great in the media and the public eye after all of that. Making them into the perfect match.

“So you’ve never thought about your future, whether you’d like to get married and have kids in the future, regardless of the RC?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “Maybe… I guess… on some level I’ve always thought about it, but… it’s not like I had someone in mind. And I guess I thought I’d have more time to get used to the idea. But after… after I became crown prince, it became this… this scarier impending thing, definitely no longer a choice, but an obligation. Even if I had thought about it, it suddenly… weighed heavier.” He paused, looking down at their hands. “Even Erik didn’t know what he wanted,” he mused. “Maybe he was more okay with the RC deciding his future, but… maybe he was more traditional, too. Like he might have been happy in the life that was set up for him, marrying his future queen, having three kids, and a dog and a cat… I don’t know… we never talked about it like it was a real thing. And… I guess I’ll never find out.”

Simon felt a sudden, overwhelming sadness. Wilhelm ran a nervous hand through his hair and took a deep breath. 

“Look, we really don’t have to talk about it right now, I… I… I know you haven’t been sleeping well, I know today was stressful, and I know you’re still worried about the police report even if you’re not saying it, and I really don’t want to stress you out with this, but… I just thought you should know.”

Simon twisted his body to face him completely and took both of Wilhelm’s hands in his. 

“Then let’s talk about it. Let’s make it less terrifying.” 

Wilhelm grimaced, but Simon gave him an encouraging smile. 

“Come on, we’ll make it quick and painless and we can stop thinking about it for a while.”

“Yeah right,” Wilhelm grumbled. 

“Have you thought about uni?”

Wilhelm threw his head back and shut his eyes. Simon shook his hands. 

“Come on, without thinking too much about it, what would you like to study?”

“But it doesn’t matter, I’ll probably have to pick something like International Relations or Diplomacy or… Art History at most.”

Simon frowned. “Because that’s what the RC expect of you?” 

Wilhelm shrugged again. “Yeah. But it’s fine, because in that case, I can go to the same uni you go to, or at least in the same city.”

“I don’t know what uni I’m going to,” Simon replied.

“But you’re studying music, aren’t you?”

“Well, of course, I’d love to.”

“Then you’re probably get in to KMH, so we can both be in Stockholm-”

“Wait, wait, you think I can get into KMH?” Simon smirked. KMH, as in the Royal College of Music, one of the most important, if not the most important, music college in Sweden, and possibly one of the top music schools not only in Europe but the entire world. 

Wilhelm scoffed, like it was a ridiculous question. “Of course you can. You’re a genius.”

Simon groaned. “Oh come on.”

Wilhelm looked him in the eye, suddenly very serious. “Simon, you’re incredible. You’re not just talented, you’re also hardworking and, like, already so experienced. And you absolutely love it. They’d be stupid not to want you.”

Simon smiled and looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t going to say what he was thinking at that moment, that the only way he was sure to ever get into KMH was if the Royal Court had a heavy hand in getting him a spot, and there was absolutely no way that he could accept that. 

“But what do you want?” he asked, shifting the focus back to Wilhelm. “If you could choose absolutely anything, what would it be?”

Wilhelm tilted his head, looking in the distance. “Psychology,” he finally said, a little dubious.

“Interesting,” Simon said, although it was not surprising at all anymore, considering the positive impact Wilhelm had gotten from Boris. What was interesting was that it had sparked enough curiosity in him to make him want to pursue it as a career. 

“What about marriage?”

Wilhelm’s eyes were again intently fixed on their joined hands. Simon felt himself getting a bit warm around the neck.

“Seriously, without thinking what is expected of you, without thinking at all about how it would affect the crown or the country or anyone outside of yourself, do you think you would like to get married someday?”

The corners of Wilhelm’s mouths twitched a bit, like he was trying to keep from smiling, before he nodded. 

“I… I think I would…” he was suddenly blushing, looking up at Simon through his eyelashes. “If I found the right person.”

Simon smiled. “What about kids? Do you see yourself as a dad?”

“Maybe,” he said, but he sounded a little more sure. “What worries me is…” he trailed off, looking glum. 

“I know,” Simon interrupted him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Wilhelm bit his lip, looking down at their hands again. He couldn’t not get ahead of himself about that. Wilhelm’s children wouldn’t only be his children, they would be the future crown prince or princess, and then the future king or queen of Sweden, and brought up as such, they would inevitably be under a lot of pressure. Like Wilhelm and his brother.

“Just because your kids would be part of the monarchy, doesn’t mean that it has to be a burden. It doesn’t mean that you can’t be a great dad, even in those circumstances.”

“You’re right,” Wilhelm whispered, taking a deep breath. “What about you? Do you want to get married and have kids?”

“Yeah. If I find the right person.” Simon winked at him. “Also, my mum would never forgive me if I don’t make her an abuela.”

Wilhelm laughed. “Linda would make an excellent abuela.”

“I sometimes think about… stuff. Like… I’d like to teach my kids to play music, and sing to them the songs in Spanish that my mum used to sing to us when we were little, and… be as good a dad as I can be,” Simon said wistfully. “Not a lot of men in my family have been good dads. A lot of them have been… awful or absent. Or both. Including mine. I think… I would like to be the one to break that cycle, and make sure that my kids have a better childhood than I did.”

Wilhelm nodded thoughtfully. Simon leaned forward to meet his eyes.

“And if we get to do all those things together…”

Wilhelm smiled so wide his eyes were crinkling. They were both blushing. Simon pressed their foreheads together.

“That wasn’t so terrifying, was it?”

“I guess not.” 

“I know it’s a lot more complicated than that, but… I think maybe we can handle it.”

“I think that…the RC would be very happy to hear that,” Wilhelm said, looking conflicted. 

Simon narrowed his eyes and scoffed. “Screw the RC. You told me not to let them take over my life, and I’m here to tell you the same thing. This is still your life, your choices.”

Wilhelm groaned and fake-sobbed into his hands. He flopped back onto the bed.

“Can’t I just give up my title and fuck off somewhere far away with you?”

“To Spain, as we planned?”

“Yeah, please, let’s do that!” 

“And we set up La taberna de Simon y Guillermo.”

“Absolutely.” 

“And we have twelve babies.”

Wilhelm lifted his head and stared at Simon with mildly horrified eyes.

“Twelve?? Do you not like to sleep and have a life?” 

“Fine. Three.”

Wilhelm grinned. “That’s more like it. And a dog and a cat.”

Simon stared fondly at him, remembering the flutter he felt in his stomach when Wilhelm showed up at his house to tell him that he would willingly give up the crown for him. If only it were that simple. 

“We’ll call that plan B,” Simon said wistfully, lying down next to Wilhelm. They both rolled onto their sides to face each other. Wilhelm sighed and pouted.  

“Fine. So I guess plan A is still… becoming the next king of Sweden…” He sounded unsure. “Is that what you want?” 

“I’m not the one who would be the next king of Sweden. This is definitely a question of whether you want to.”

“But this also involves you. It not just my choices anymore. If you want to stay with me, I just want you to be sure. This would be the rest of your life. The RC, the press, the public scrutiny, the constant planning of the future, the lack of privacy… everything. And if you don’t want it… I would understand.”

Simon interlaced their fingers and held their hands between them, searching Wilhelm’s eyes, looking at the little stitch between his eyebrows, looking into the warm brown worried eyes. 

It’s not like Simon didn’t feel the weight of it. He had absolutely no aspirations to be part of the monarchy, and yet he was faced with the decision to commit to every aspect that came with it. And he felt anxious about Sara’s police report, and his application to become a boarder, and having to hang out in common rooms with August and Alexander and Vincent and Nils all the other boys in the house; and he thought of the other two years he still had left before they graduated from Hillerska, and possibly living in Forest Ridge for those two years and going back home on the weekends only, and seeing less of his friends, and not having Sara to talk to anymore. 

And yet he was having trouble picturing the future, any future. There was too much happening in the here and now, he couldn’t really see beyond it, he couldn’t begin to imagine the rest of his life. 

He only knew one thing; that he hoped he could have more moments like this, with the boy he loved. In their little world, away from the world, talking and holding hands.

That’s all he wanted for now. That was good enough.

“Let’s not think about it anymore, then,” Simon said. “Let’s play a game instead.”

“A game?”

“It’s called… Simon and Wille minute by minute.”

Wilhelm laugh, the stitch between his eyebrows disappearing. “I’ve heard of this game.”

Simon smiled, nestling himself closer to Wilhelm, excited about this thing that they had in common, as insignificant as it might seem; to know that maybe Wilhelm had also asked himself at some point in his life: what would Isak Valtersen do?

“So right now, we only have to worry about the next minute,” he said. 

“Okay,” Wilhelm answered. 

“What will we do this minute?”

“This minute… we’re going to kiss.”

“Excellent.”

They closed the gap between them and their lips met. They kissed softly at first, slow breaths tickling each other’s faces. Simon cupped his face in his hands, Wilhelm’s arm curled around his waist, pulling him closer. 

The kiss deepened, becoming more eager. Simon’s mind wandered; he forgot all about Minou’s messages and the Royal Court and their need to know their future plans, he forgot about marriage and babies, he forgot about the clinic and Dr Olsson’s talk, he forgot about fencing tryouts, and he forgot about his application and about the other boys in Forest Ridge, and for a moment he even forgot about the police report. 

All he could think about was Wilhelm, about his lips, his smell, the heat of his body, pressing closer into him, don’t stop, never stop, feels so good, more more more…

He wrapped a leg around Wilhelm’s thigh. Wilhelm rolled onto his back, pulling Simon on top of him. He breathed deeply, feeling Wilhelm’s hands sliding over his back, pulling him closer, feeling electric all over, a pleasant warmth pooling around his belly.

He stopped when his crotch felt uncomfortably tight against Wilhelm’s. They were breathless, both suddenly and evidently horny.

“That was definitely more than a minute,” Wilhelm said against his lips. Simon chuckled. 

“And what do we want to do next minute?” he asked, grazing Wilhelm’s lips with his own. 

Wilhelm pretended to think. “Do we… want to have sex?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Simon grinned, and Wilhelm lifted an eyebrow. 

“Uh yes, I do, because I’m a very respectful, trusting and communicative boyfriend.”

“I appreciate that,” Simon said huskily. He felt one of Wilhelm’s hand hook around the back of his knee, and Simon was suddenly being flipped onto his back, Wilhelm now on top of him. A giggle escaped him as Wilhelm fitted himself between his legs. 

“Also consent is fucking hot,” Wilhelm said. “An enthusiastic ‘yes’ is such a turn on.”

“How about a ‘fuck yes’?”

“Even better.”

It was Simon’s turn to pull Wilhelm down to his lips and keep him there. Wilhelm struggled to keep kissing him whilst trying to strip off his own pajama bottoms and pants. Simon let him undress and he lifted his arms so Wilhelm could pull his t-shirt off over his head, and then shimmied out of his own bottoms. His skin was covered in goosebumps as he lifted his hips so that Wilhelm could pull his pants off, and then they were both naked and Wilhelm settled between his legs again. 

His eyes fluttered close as Wilhelm’s lips latched onto his neck, moaning softly at every nip, until he started gliding down, leaving a trail of kisses over his chest and his belly, and then painfully, teasingly, all along his inner thighs, making his squirm. Simon was so aroused that he feared he wouldn’t last long. As soon as Wilhelm finally started sucking him off, hands gliding all over his chest and belly and thighs, Simon grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand, the other hand over his mouth to keep himself from moaning so loud that the gossip about them might become fact. When he was almost to the edge, Wilhelm pulled off and started stroking him, reaching up to kiss his lips and capture his moan as he made him come.

He sighed, coming down from his climax and feeling sleepy all of a sudden, but wanting to stay awake. Beside him, Wilhelm was kissing his neck again, stroking himself. Simon reached down to replace Wilhelm’s hand, slowly at first and then a little faster. 

“Can I…?” He started asking, then trailed off, pushing Wilhelm gently onto his back. Wilhelm looked up at him, eyes shining.

“Fuck yes,” he whispered, and Simon smiled, pushing him flat against the mattress as he rolled over him, gliding down until he was kneeling between his legs. He started peppering kisses around his chest and belly, a lot like Wilhelm did to him, stroking his cock the whole time, before guiding him into his mouth. 

Whether it was the feeling of Wilhelm’s hips trembling and bucking every time Simon sank his mouth over his cock, or the feeling of Wilhelm’s fingers threading through his curls, or the feeling of the soft skin on Wilhelm’s inner thighs beneath his fingers, keeping his legs spread, he wanted to explore more of that, of seeing Wilhelm lost in pleasure and knowing that he was the cause of it.

Wilhelm seemed a little less concerned about the rumors, less preoccupied with the volume of his noises, gasping loudly as Simon made him climax. Simon smiled triumphantly as he crawled over Wilhelm, covering his body with his own, placing kisses all over his face as Wilhelm’s eyes stayed blissfully closed, as they relaxed in their little cocoon. 

They almost fell asleep, before they got up to clean themselves quickly. Then they were wrapped around each other again, tucked under the covers, drifting off to sleep, and Simon realized he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“I love you, that’s all I know for sure,” Wilhelm mused, half-asleep, his face pressed to Simon’s chest. He was holding one of Simon’s hands, playing with their intertwined fingers. “I just want to be with you, for as long as I can, if you will have me. I know people rarely stay together for so long. But if we can… And I’ll do everything I can to make that possible.” 

“Me too,” Simon said, his other hand drawing circles on Wilhelm’s shoulder blades. “I love you too. I want to be with you too.”

“Do you think that we can?”

Simon blinked slowly, turning his head so that his chin grazed the top of Wilhelm’s head. “I think we can do anything.”

He didn’t know when he dozed off. When he woke up again, he was spooning Wilhelm, his lips pressed lightly to the space between Wilhelm’s shoulder blades, he could feel the rise and fall of Wilhelm’s chest in sync with his own. He stayed still, not wanting to wake him up, and drifted off again, until the morning. There was no waking up startled and breathing heavily, or staring up at the ceiling until his eyelids were singed. 

The dim light filtering through the curtains woke him. 

He rolled onto his back and found the space beside him empty, and for a moment he was completely disoriented. He continued to roll until he was lying on his other side again, facing the room. 

Wilhelm sat at the desk, in joggers and a t-shirt. He glanced over at him and smiled.

“Hi,” he said softly. Simon inhaled deeply as he stretched, letting out a lazy sigh. 

“Hi,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“Did you sleep well?”

Simon smiled and nodded. It was the best sleep he had in a while. 

“You?”

Wilhelm nodded. “I think that talk last night really helped.”

“Also the sex.”

“Oh, of course the sex.”

They both chuckled. Simon begrudgingly sat up and reached for his pants lying on the floor, pulling them on, before throwing the blanket over his shoulders.

He stood up and ambled over, glancing at the desk. Wilhelm had been scribbling on a notebook. He tapped the tip of the pen on the open page, staring at the wall distractedly.  

“What’s that?” Simon asked. Wilhelm suddenly stopped, seeming a bit embarrassed. 

“My… journal.”

”Ah,” Simon said. He had yet to actually see Wilhelm writing on said journal, the one that he started when he was alone in the palace in Stockholm. “I had no idea you were still journaling, I hadn’t seen you writing in it.”

“Well, I hadn’t actually written in it since I came back from Stockholm. I’ve been thinking about it, I even brought it with me to your house, even though I didn’t even take it out of the bag, but… I thought it’d give it another try. Boris convinced me. He says it might feel weird at times, but it’s not like I have to do it all the time, and it might come in handy to be able to put my thoughts into writing when things get really… you know… like last night. Talking helps, but surprisingly, writing really helps too.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Simon nodded. He wondered if it was just Boris’s influence that made Wilhelm mention psychology as a career last night, or if he had thought about it before. 

Wilhelm turned back to the notebook for a moment, as if he were rereading something he had written. 

Forgetting himself, Simon stared at the open notebook, and immediately pulled back when he realized what he was doing. Wilhelm sensed Simon’s eyes and instinctively lifted his hands to cover the page.

“Oh I can’t look?” Simon joked, raising an eyebrow. Wilhelm looked a bit disconcerted, and Simon blushed and smiled. “I’m kidding, you don’t have to show me… I shouldn’t have looked. I don’t know why I did that, I wasn’t really trying to read it.”

Wilhelm looked a bit unsure, before he put his hands down. “No, you… you can look.”

“No, of course not. Seriously, it’s your journal, I’m not going to look at it.”

Wilhelm seemed to be debating with himself, glancing down at the page and then at Simon.

“We have no secrets between us,” he said sheepishly. 

Simon sighed, feeling very bad all of a sudden.

“Wille, you’re allowed to have private thoughts. You don’t have to share absolutely everything with me.”

Wilhelm stared up at him, before slowly nodded.

“Okay.” He shut the notebook, slinging the elastic band around the cover. “That’s good, because it’s mostly just me gushing about you and it’s really embarrassing.”

Simon let out a laugh. “Idiot,” he said, leaning against the edge of the desk.

“Maybe I should start journaling too,” he said after a moment. Wilhelm lifted an eyebrow.

“So you can gush about me in it all the time?”

With his hip, Simon shoved him lightly. Wilhelm snickered. 

Simon grabbed his phone, and looked through all the unanswered messages from Minou from last nights. He glanced at the closed notebook and bit his lip.

“I think…” he started.

“What?”

“I think I want to go see Boris too.”

Wilhelm leaned agains the backrest and nodded, as if encouraging him to continue. Simon took a deep breath. 

“You noticed, I’ve been sleeping badly lately,” he said. “These past couple of days were particularly bad, after the whole thing with Sara. I have this… this horrible feeling of foreboding, like I’m always waiting for another bad thing to happen. And I know that I can talk to you about it, but… maybe I should just talk to him. Before I feel worse.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Wilhelm replied. 

“And I know that I have to be careful about what I say, and I can’t talk about everything, but maybe… maybe it will help anyway.”

“Absolutely.”

A tear trickled out of Simon’s eye. He hadn’t even realized that his eyes had filled with tears. He wiped it and sniffed. 

“Come here,” Wilhelm said, gently tugging at Simon’s arm. Simon sat on Wilhelm’s lap and felt more tears brimming over as Wilhelm wrapped him up in his arms. 

“I’m so fucking tired of everything,” he said, swallowing hard. “I’m tired of feeling like everything’s going to go to shit at any moment. I wish we could just… just do something to make everything right.”

Wilhelm nodded, squeezing him tighter. “I know. Me too.”

“I wish I could go back and undo every stupid shit that I did.”

“You didn’t do anymore stupid shit than I did.”

“Yes, I did,” he mumbled into Wilhelm’s shoulder. He put his arms around him, the blanket wrapping around both.

“I just want to stop worrying about these fucking things. I want to worry about normal things, like school and exams and what movie we’re going to watch in my house over the weekend, and whether we’ll be able to go to Rosh’s game and… stuff like that…”

“Me too.”

With a resigned sigh, he lifted his head and touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s, and Wilhelm tilted his head up to kiss him lightly. Simon kissed him back, a little more eagerly, like it was the only thing that made him feel better.

“Do you want to keep playing Simon and Wille minute by minute?” Wilhelm asked softly, rubbing their noses together.

Simon chuckled, sniffling and wiping his eyes again. “Okay.”

“What should we do this minute?”

“This minute we’re going to… hold each other.”

“Great choice.”

They stayed like that for a little over a minute. He started feeling better, he felt warm and safe. For a moment he managed to convince himself that everything would be okay.

“I love you,” he whispered, tears subsiding.

“I love you so much,” Wilhelm whispered back in response. “What should we do next minute?” He mumbled into the blanket around Simon’s shoulder. Simon took a deep breath and tried to smile. 

“Next minute… we’re going to get ready for breakfast and class.”

“Ugh, fine,” Wilhelm groaned, making Simon laugh.

Notes:

EDIT 2023-07-19: BeatrixGranger pointed out that, when Wille and Simon are discussing sex, it looks like I’ve established that Wille is the top and Simon is the bottom. That’s not how I meant it, and I was worried that it wouldn’t be clear (seems I was right). There’s been a lot of discourse about how it’s clear that Simon is more the receiver and Wille the giver, and that may be true, but it’s also my opinion, judging from how Simon took control during s2e5, that maybe the roles are not set in stone (pun not intended). I like to think that, whilst Wille often takes the lead, Simon sometimes likes to be in control.
Having said that, in the many many MANY drafts of this chapter, there was a lengthier discussion on roles, but I scrapped it because it felt clunky. I hoped instead that the whole conversation and the questions to the doctor, etc, would convey that right now Wille is equally daunted about fulfilling either role, because of the potential of either feeling pain or causing pain, BUT he’s slightly more terrified about being a top because of the potential of hurting Simon. And we know how much Wille could never ever EVER hurt Simon. Not again. Not emotionally, not physically, nothing.
Here’s an example of a scrapped line from an old draft:
“And just, like- the idea that, like she said, that… no matter what you do, it could still be painful or, or, or just… I don’t know… I’m not…” Wilhelm was shaking his head so much that he looked like a bobble-head toy.
“Okay, well…” Simon started tentatively, “I don’t know if this helps at all, but… when you asked the doctor that question, I immediately thought of myself as the… um… the receiver…” his ears felt like they were on fire, “so… would that make you feel less anxious about it?”
Pure horror crossed Wilhelm’s face. “What?? No! That’s even worse!” He hissed.
“Wh- how is that worse?” Simon asked, perplexed.
“Because it’s- what if I- if I hurt you in any way, I would- I don’t think I could handle it, and I’m afraid that- that you would- Why are you smiling??”
And then the rest of that little bit went on pretty much as it ended up in the final version.
So yeah… the way that it fit into the whole draft at the time, it felt clunky and long-winded, and it occurred to me that this was a conversation for another time. So this whole discussion will still happen, just in a later chapter.

You know I’ve been dying to make another SKAM reference (which I thought was actually the first reference). (You know that Simon watched Isak and Even make out and have existential conversations about yellow curtains and he was like “I need to get me a confusing tall blonde”. You know that Wilhelm sat in secret in the palace watching Isak and Even making out in the kitchen whilst dancing to “5 fine frøkner” and went “I need to get me a beautiful feisty boy”.)
Listening to Omar’s Sommarprat (Omarprat, if you will), and him mentioning how men in his family have not been good and him saying that he wants to break that cycle… that whole interview was so beautiful and heartbreaking, but that particular moment was so lovely. It’s such a common thing here in Latin America, the generational trauma, the misogyny, the machismo, so it really falls upon young men in recent generations to be different and break that cycle, and on younger parents to continue to raise young people who will also make a difference. So to hear Omar talk about that, it really made me hopeful.
There’s been a lot of discussion about whether Wilhelm or Simon, given their own family histories, would aspire to marriage and parenthood. I think it varies: a person’s trauma might have such a lasting impact that they would not be able to go down that path, for fear of repeating the same mistakes, or inflicting upon their children or spouse the same things that happened to them, that they swore to avoid, and even therapy might not help them overcome those fears. Or they might be still interested in pursuing a life like that, despite the trauma, in the hopes of not making the same mistakes and/or inflicting the same trauma on their family.
My opinion (just mine) is that it might have more to do with the person’s personality and actual desires, but at sixteen it’s too soon to tell. A person undergoes so many changes as they reach adulthood. The magnitude of the trauma plays a big role too, of course, but ultimately I think that, as we learn to understand ourselves better, we understand better what’s really important to us, what we’re capable of, what we’re willing to sacrifice, etc.
This wasn’t meant to be a foreshadowing of what happens later in my story, I’m still not 100% set on it; it was meant to be just a moment in which they go deeper into something they touched on in an earlier chapter, and learning to communicate with each other better and better, and knowing that they have each other to lean on. After all, all they have is each other.

Chapter 17: Crisis

Summary:

Someone unexpectedly gets to watch Wille and Simon interacting when they think no one is looking, and has an introspective moment.
Stella POV

Notes:

I wonder if we’ll get to see Stella’s reaction to Wilhelm coming out, and see how relevant it is to her. I wonder if there was a significance to the fact that, when they announced season 3, with that 12 days of Christmas Young Royals version video, that when they sing “Four pretty words”, the four people and reactions that they focused on are Simon (of course), the Queen (duh), Boris, and… Stella.
I know in the show we don’t really see the reactions from August, or Ludvig, or Felice, or Nils, or anyone else. They showed other people. And for the season 3 announcement, they picked Stella.
I mean, everyone at Hillerska knew at that point that it had been Wille in that video with Simon. But they all collectively decided that, since Wille denied it publicly, that it had been a one time thing, that it couldn’t have been serious then. Until he confirmed it in public, this time with a huge audience.
And maybe, just maybe, with everything that happened with Sara, not only is Stella scared that the one person that knows about her is also now confirmed to be a person who cannot be trusted, but she also feels very lonely. Maybe, just maybe, knowing that there’s another confirmed queer person in the school, it helps her to not feel so lonely or scared.
TW: mentions of homophobia, mentions of internalized homophobia, mentions of sex.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Stella didn’t realize that she had a front row seat to a makeout session until it was too late. 

She should have known. As soon as Wilhelm’s female bodyguard wandered by her line of sight, Stella should have known that Wilhelm and likely Simon were approaching, and she should have made a run for it.  

Wilhelm’s bodyguards did not follow him around anymore, but it was still their job to do daily rounds of the school grounds. Most recently, after the jubilee, what with the influx of paparazzi into town, their rounds have become more frequent, and it seemed that they were once again following Wilhelm around, at a distance, perhaps even without his knowledge. There had even been an announcement from the headmistress, alerting the students that, if anyone spotted unauthorized figures on the grounds of the school, that the staff was to be immediately alerted, and that included the Crown Prince’s personal protection officers. 

So whenever either of them were spotted walking around, it was probable that the Crown Prince and his boyfriend were nearby.

But Stella didn’t move. She had been engrossed in a book, and it took her a moment to realize what was going on.

Until recently, Stella wouldn’t usually be found hanging out by the lakeside on her own. She and the girls had known of that place for a while, but had only been back about a week ago, to have a little picnic (there was a picnic table and everything) and sort of celebrate Felice and Madison being roommates again (which, in retrospect, was a bit grim). That side of the lake, which was more easily accessed by going through the forest, was secluded and peaceful and beautiful. This was where the rowing team frequently did their morning workout, but it was usually deserted in the afternoons, and it was an excellent spot to hang out, have a picnic, watch the sunset, or just to be alone. 

Stella loved it. There were few places at Hillerska where one could find real, actual privacy, and she had discovered this was the perfect place to get away from everyone else.

Unfortunately, so did other people.

She froze when she saw them emerge from among the trees, holding hands, talking and laughing, headed for the edge of the lake, to the picnic table. They climbed onto it and sat on the tabletop, facing the lake. 

Luckily she was a good distance away, and pretty well hidden behind the tall grass and the shadows cast by the trees; there was a nice plush spot on the grass among the trees, with tree stumps to put her stuff, and she had carried a blanket and everything to lie down and read in peace. Still, how her bright purple puffer jacket had not caught Wilhelm and Simon’s attention was proof of how absorbed they were in each other. 

She watched them discreetly for a bit, unsure of what to do, but they just sat there, talking. They probably thought they were alone. As alone as one can be in a school full of students and staff members and with two bodyguards always in the periphery. 

After several minutes of that, Wilhelm put an arm around Simon’s shoulders, and Simon curled an arm around Wilhelm’s waist, and they started kissing, and Stella wanted to slap herself. 

If she stood up now, they would definitely see her, or hear her, and it had been too long, it would look like she had been spying on them, or like she had stayed on purpose. Perhaps she could sneak away, crawl away until she was out of sight.

But she didn’t really want to leave; she was there first, after all, and this was a common area, and she shouldn’t have to leave. 

So she stayed still, hoping that they wouldn’t look her way, and trying not to look at them. Not only did she not have any particular interest in watching two boys, two classmates, make out, but it also felt wrong. Like voyeurism. Like she was invading their privacy. Something that, she guessed, was nothing new for them, unfortunately.

She tried to focus on her book again. It was one of the books from the group work in literature class; Ms Ramirez had made them all available to everyone, to read and judge if their classmates’ oral presentations had done a fair assessment of the books. 

Stella had picked Karin Boye’s Crisis because it was the shortest. 

But after hearing Simon and Sara’s (and technically Henry’s and an absent Wilhelm’s) presentation about the book, she was also curious. The story hit a little bit too close to home. 

Only a few pages in, Stella was already annoyed by the protagonist, Malin Forst. How was she supposed to identify with an extremely religious, depressed teacher in the 1930s with an overbearing family? The impression she got from the oral presentation was that the book was about Malin’s conflict with her own sexuality.

It wasn’t that Stella was conflicted about her sexuality. She still wasn’t sure if she liked girls also or exclusively, but she had come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t straight, and didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that there were too many implications, and she didn’t want to have to deal with them. And she definitely wasn’t ready to tell anyone else about it.

Not like she had anyone to talk to about it anyway, no one who would understand.

There were two other girls, two third years from Haga house, who were a couple, but apparently they had both been out since before Hillerska. Stella wasn’t remotely close with either of them anyway. 

There didn’t seem to be anyone else, until now. 

When she chanced another glance at the picnic table, they were no longer kissing. Wilhelm had his head on Simon’s shoulder and his arms around his back, and Simon was finger-combing Wilhelm’s hair.

Stella chuckled to herself. There was no way that boys could get away with such an affectionate gesture without being labelled gay, or a couple, or both, regardless of whether they were any of those things. Meanwhile girls could seemingly get away with anything, whether they were together or not. She thought of how many times she and Fredrika had been like that with each other, and nobody ever raised an eyebrow. It was normal, uneventful, meaningless.

It wasn’t entirely meaningless to her. Which made her feel bad. Like she was fooling everyone, tricking them. Especially Fredrika. 

It wasn’t fair. 

But Stella didn’t want to come out. She hadn’t even thought about it. It hadn’t been an issue. Until recently.

She didn’t want people to treat her differently, to be the odd one out. But if anyone found out about her, she knew that people would talk and be merciless.  

Just like it happened to Wilhelm.

She couldn’t deal with that. She couldn’t bear the idea of people talking about her behind her back. The rumor mill right now was all about Wilhelm and Simon, and she would rather it stayed like that. Better them than her.

It was the way that they were talked about too. The boys were annoyed by Wilhelm and Simon being allowed to live together in their own private ‘bachelor pad’, and shacking up in Simon’s house every weekend, and by the fact that apparently Wilhelm no longer hung out in the common rooms anymore, and by him quitting the rowing team, and blah blah blah…

And the girls were… jealous. 

Stella had to laugh; part of the rhetoric was absolutely ridiculous, that perhaps Simon’s whole motivation for enrolling in Hillerska had really been to social climb by hooking up with a high-society boy, much like Sara had done, apparently, and hitting the jackpot by landing none other than the crown prince. For one thing, Simon was an irritating socialist, and for another, girls would be complaining about the exact same thing if Wilhelm had ended up with Felice instead; they would say that it was unfair, no matter who he ended up with, just because it was not them. 

But the other part of the rhetoric was how it was ‘such a shame and a waste’ that the prince was with a boy. A waste. 

It was wasteful for the Crown Prince to be anything but straight.

Stella felt sick thinking about it.

She wondered if anyone would say the same thing about her. They probably would.

Looking down, she realized that she was merely holding the book open on her lap, not reading it. She closed the book, shoving a nearby leaf between the pages in lieu of a bookmark, and lay down on the blanket. She thought about heading back, even if she had to army-crawl away, but merely tilted her head sideways and stared through the grass. She could still see them, through the blades of tall grass.

The two figures on the picnic table still had their arms around each other. She wasn’t sure if they had gone quiet, or if they were talking so low that she couldn’t hear them. But they sat there, being with each other, like they were the only two people in existence.

Whatever people were saying about them, they didn’t seem to care.

Stella sighed. She stared fixedly at Wilhelm’s back, at the arm curled around him, at his own arm curled around Simon’s waist.

So much had happened to make everyone at the school develop this morbid curiosity for him; between the death of his brother and the sex video, it was inevitable. But before any of that, Stella had barely paid him any genuine attention. 

Sure, when he first started at Hillerska, she feigned interest in him, as was expected of her. She was supposed to be vying for the guy with the most noble upbringing, like most girls at the school; the obvious top choice was the second son of the reigning queen. 

Stella even humored her mother during Parents’ Weekend, to try to sit at August’s table, because her mother was certain that Wilhelm would sit with his cousin, and wouldn’t it be nice for the prince to get to know her, wouldn’t it be wonderful if something could spark out of it, if only the Queen had been there too… And Stella had been so sure that Smysan would end up taking the spot at the coveted table, but her mother had beat the Ehrenchronas to it, to both Stella’s and Felice’s chagrin; their mothers were friendly but also fiercely competitive, especially when it came to playing their daughters’ matchmakers. Stella threw an apologetic look at her friend; Felice, however, was relieved at not having to sit with August, and even more thrilled when Wilhelm walked right past August’s table and sat at hers. Stella was glad that she hadn’t actually foiled her friend’s plans, even if it meant enduring August for the rest of the lunch. 

(Had she known that it was all for nothing… who would have thought that the real reason why Wilhelm had bypassed August’s table was to sit with Simon, not Felice…)

It had been in fact, thanks to Felice and her fixation with Wilhelm, that Stella had been able to stop pretending to be interested in the prince. Because of course she would never do that to Felice, Stella was a good friend and she would never try to take his attention away from Felice, the prince was officially off-limits.

But after Parents’ Weekend, Felice inexplicably started hooking up with August, even dating him, for a short while. Stella was dumbfounded; to go from pining after Wilhelm for so long, to dating one of the most unbearable wankers in the school. At least Wilhelm was nice and friendly and not full of himself and, most importantly, not August. But how could he not be into Felice?

Then the video happened, and it all made sense.

Soon, however, Stella realized that things were not that simple.

“Seriously, drop it, he’s just been outed,” Felice had said after the video had made the rounds, and it was the first time that Stella heard anyone talk about it with any real sympathy. Nobody else was interested in being sympathetic. This was gossip gold. 

And then, after days of everyone losing their shit over the video and the news, and watching intently every single interaction between Wilhelm and Simon, and the rumors and the speculation, as soon as Wilhelm gave an interview denying it was him on the video, everyone immediately pretended that it was true. Like they hadn’t watched it multiple times and seen that it was undeniably the prince, in his bedroom, hooking up with another boy. It was easier to pretend that he wasn’t… not straight.

And when the rumor spread all over school that Wilhelm and Felice had been caught making out in his room, Stella started to wonder if maybe it was true. Maybe him and Simon had only been a one time thing. Maybe he wasn’t… 

But a week ago, Wilhelm gave the speech that was heard around the world, and this time it became undeniable. The prince was in love with a boy. It wasn’t a one time thing. It wasn’t something that happened on a whim. They were together. And it was causing all sorts of mayhem. 

And Stella couldn’t help but be curious. 

Discreetly, and sometimes unconsciously, she had been observing Wilhelm recently, to see if he changed in any way since the speech. Did he act different? Did he seem different? Did people treat him differently? 

Yes, people stared at him, at both of them, a lot, and people talked about them behind their backs, and of course they somewhat acted differently toward them. But maybe it had more to do with Wilhelm’s title, with the media attention, with the implications. Maybe it was more about those things and less about the fact that he was… whatever he was… not straight. 

Wilhelm himself did not seem drastically different. However, he seemed more relaxed. Maybe even… happier.

She wondered if he was…

Something fell over her eyes, and Stella instinctively gasped and flinched, until she realized it was someone’s hand covering her eyes.  She knew those hands, and that scent, she knew them too well.

“Fredrika, you scared the shit out of me,” she hissed. The hand retreated, and Stella turned her head to find Fredrika settling beside her, crosslegged, smiling widely.

“How did you know it was me?” Fredrika asked in a low whisper. 

“Who else would it be? Although I’m surprised you managed to sneak up on me. You’re not exactly the stealthiest person,” Stella replied, sitting up. Fredrika usually was about as sneaky and discreet as a parade. 

“Well, I’ve learned from the best,” Fredrika retorted, glancing over at Wilhelm and Simon in the distance and wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m surprised Wille’s bodyguards haven’t found you yet and tackled you to the ground for spying on them.”

“I’m not spying on them,” Stella retorted with a roll of her eyes. 

“Then why are you here?”

“It just so happens that I was here first, trying to read, and they showed up,” she said, pointing to the book. Fredrika nodded slowly.

“This is a nice spot to read,” she nodded, then gestured toward the two boys. “And what are they doing here?” 

“Seems that this is also a nice make out spot,” Stella said. 

“Hot.”

Stella snickered.

“But you weren’t reading when I got here, you were watching them,” Fredrika pointed out. Stella hoped that her cheeks were not suddenly red. Busted.

“Actually, I was kind of falling asleep. This book is kind of boring. And then you spooked me and almost blew my cover.”

“Sorry,” Fredrika said with a wide grin. “What would you have done if they had spotted you? What would have been your excuse?”

“What excuse? I was here first,” Stella hissed, then glanced in their direction. Maybe she was being too loud. 

Fredrika snickered, stretching out onto the blanket and propping her head up on her elbow. Stella watched her and followed suit, laying down beside her, hands tucked behind her head to look up at the sky. 

“And why are you here?” She asked, nudging Fredrika’s foot with her own. Fredrika shrugged again.

“Well, I was wondering where you were, because you didn’t say where you were going. I thought you would be at the stables. And I was bored, so I went looking for you, and someone told me they had seen you coming this way.”

Stella smiled up at the sky fondly. “Oh so I can’t be by myself even for a second because you need to annoy me every second of the day?” She joked. Fredrika’s index finger poked her cheek. 

They fell silent for a moment. 

“It’s kind of hot,” Fredrika said. Stella glanced at her, confused.

“What?” 

“Them. Wille and Simon,” Fredrika clarified, gesturing toward the area where Stella knew that Simon and Wilhelm sat. “I know girls tend to fetishize two boys kissing and stuff, just like boys tend to fetishize girls kissing, as we both know very well,” she said, raising an eyebrow, making Stella feel a bit warm around the neck, “but it really is kind of cute. I mean, they’re very cute together.”

Stella gave a mirthless chuckle. “Whatever you say,”

“You don’t think they are? I know Simon’s gay, but he’s still very pretty, and Wille’s cute too, although I will admit, I always thought that Erik was better-looking, but… Wille definitely got hotter over the holidays. I like his new haircut. And, you know… they look very cute together.” 

Stella nodded absently, but didn’t say anything. She recently decided to avoid talking with Fredrika about Wilhelm and Simon, which was nearly impossible. If there was one person invested in the royal gossip about those two, it was Fredrika. So lately any conversation with Fredrika inevitably turned to them. 

Which also, unfortunately, led to Fredrika speculating about Wilhelm’s undefined sexuality. 

And that’s where Stella had to change the subject rapidly, distract her, do anything to stop her. She wasn’t the only one, at least, Felice and Maddie were constantly shutting down the sexuality talk too. But Fredrika was relentless.

She wondered if Wilhelm knew, if he even cared, that people were trying to guess what he was. People endlessly going on about it behind his back: he must be bi because he and Felice nearly fucked, but maybe he was just leading her on, maybe he’s actually gay, he never really had anything with anyone before arriving at Hillerska, not that anyone knew at least, in his previous school there was no one, boy or girl, no pictures of him making out with anyone in clubs or anything, no rumors, nothing from the notorious party prince, no way there wasn’t anyone…

Just relentlessly trying to guess what label might fit him best. 

Stella couldn’t deal with it. It made her too nervous, too apprehensive, and it wasn’t even about her.

But it very well could be.

“So your plan was to stay hidden here until they left?” Fredrika asked.

Stella let out a deep sigh. “Yep, pretty much. And hopefully get some reading done in the meantime.”

“What if they never leave?”

“Of course they’re going to leave eventually, idiot.”

“But, like… what if they had started fucking on that table?” Fredrika asked with a snicker. Stella scoffed.

“You really think that they would have sex in public? After their trauma with the video?”

“What if they no longer care?”

“I doubt it, you know. I seriously doubt it.”

“Okay, well… I think we’ll be here for a while.”

“That’s okay by me.”

Fredrika took a lock of Stella’s hair between her fingers and started twirling the end. “I hope you don’t mind that I came to invade your space.”

Stella smiled and shook her head. “Don’t be silly, you can always invade my space.”

“I just like your company.”

Again, Stella hoped that she wasn’t visibly blushing. “I like your company too.”

“Let’s look up at the clouds,” Fredrika said, laying down like Stella, hands behind her head. “We haven’t done this in a while.”

“We literally did it last year, at our old school.”

“Yeah, but… we should do it all the time. It’s nice.”

“I know.”

They both stared up at the sky, at the darkening evening clouds. For a moment, Stella wondered if they were rain clouds. 

“Are they still there?” She asked after a while. Fredrika lifted herself up a bit to look over at the picnic table and nodded.

“Yep,” she said, laying back down. She sighed. 

Fredrika clicked her tongue. “Do you… do you think they’re in love? Like Maddie says?” She asked.

Stella hesitated before answering. “Um, I don’t know. I guess. They look like they might be.”

There was a long silence. Stella pulled her arms out from behind her head and lay them at her sides. Immediately, she felt her hand graze Fredrika’s, and she stiffened. Fredrika, on the other hand, hooked her pinky with Stella’s, as if it was no big deal, as if it was a normal thing to do with a best friend.

“Stella,” she asked after a moment, her voice soft.

“Hmm?”

”You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Stella felt a coldness in the back of her neck all of a sudden. What did that mean? What was this about? She hummed in reply.

“I mean, we’ve known each other our entire lives, right? And we’ve been through everything together, and we can trust each other,” Fredrika continued. Stella’s mouth suddenly felt dry.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“And I can tell you anything too, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay. Well…” Fredrika paused for a long time, “I just… wanted to be sure that you know that.”

Stella turned her head toward Fredrika, feeling a bit more nervous now, but laughing it off softly. “What are you going on about? What’s up?”

Fredrika let out a sigh and turned her body toward her, propping her head again on her elbow. Stella did the same. 

“It’s just that… it feels like there might be… something that you are not telling me, and I just wanted to make sure that you know that you can… you can always trust me.”

Stella felt her heart beating faster, doing her best at keeping her breathing normal, her face neutral.

“I know,” she said, hoping that the waver in her voice was unnoticeable. “But… why do you think I’m keeping something from you?”

Fredrika very slowly and gently took Stella’s hand and interlaced their fingers, laying on top of the blanket in the space between them. Stella was suddenly very aware of how close they were, their knees grazing. She could smell Fredrika’s shampoo, her perfume, her favorite scent in the world.

“Okay,” Fredrika began carefully, eyes fixed on their joined hands, and took a deep breath, “I’m going to ask you something, and you must promise to be honest.”

Oh God.

“Okay,” Stella said slowly, breath hitching. 

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Fredrika bit her lip and took a deep breath, deep brown eyes full of concern, lips quivering with hesitation. Stella’s eyes, she was sure, betrayed fear. 

“Stella, do you… um, are you in love with…”

Shit.

“Um… with Wille?”

What?

“What?!”

Stella’s hand freed itself from Fredrika’s grasp and flew to her own mouth, realizing that she said that too loud. They both winced and glanced over at the picnic table, but were relieved to find that the boys hadn’t heard at all. 

“What?” Stella repeated in a whisper, looking back at her friend. Fredrika winced.

“I… I’m sorry if that was, uh, blunt, but… it’s just that… we used to talk about it, about him, when he first enrolled, we used to talk about how maybe one of us had a shot at getting with him and becoming a princess, but it was just like wishful thinking, at least for me, but I just thought that maybe you were serious about it, that you did have a crush on him-”

”Wait, what… what makes you think that?” Stella said, cutting off Fredrika’s whispered rant. Fredrika glanced in the distance, presumably at the boys, before looking back at Stella. 

”Well, you… you keep staring at him lately… a lot… and every time you do, you have this… like, a sad look on your face. And just now, when I came here looking for you and I saw them, and I saw you looking at them, I thought ‘oh well, I need to ask her, because she’s clearly pining over him and this is not good’, and I thought that maybe you just needed to talk about it. Because, well, if you are, then I guess you would be a bit sad that he’s with someone else… well, we don’t really know if Wille’s still, you know, into girls, so I thought maybe you still might have a thing for him, and if you do then you might think that you still could have a chance with him-”

Stella was at a loss for words. She shook her head and held up a hand, to stop her. “Fred, I- I don’t have feelings for him or anything… I… um, I honestly didn’t know that I was staring at him. I wasn’t… you know… I’m not…”

Fredrika bit her lip again, still frowning with concern. “Are you sure? Because you… you can tell me, we can talk about it, and… and well, there wouldn’t be much that we could do about it, because he’s with someone else, but I could… I could just be there for you, help you deal with it-”

“Fred, I…” Stella had to chuckle, “that’s really sweet, but I’m sure.”

Fredrika’s brow un-furrowed itself and she gave a little relieved smile. “Oh… okay.”

Stella lay back down and stared fixedly at the sky. She felt suddenly very self-conscious. Was she really starting at Wilhelm a lot? So much that Fredrika had noticed? Could someone else have noticed too? 

Did Stella ever stare at Fredrika like that? She must have, if Sara had figured it out…

She cleared her throat, trying to sound cool and casual. “I mean, yeah, we talked about it, about him, but I just never really entertained the idea of getting with him, like realistically. Because, you know, because of Felice. She had dibs on him first.”

Fredrika snickered. “Yeah, same here.”

“And even if it hadn’t been for Felice, and even if Wille weren’t with Simon, that’s still like… no. No way,” Stella continued. “That would be a mess, wouldn’t it? Getting with a royal is so messy.”

“Yeah, poor Simon.”

She felt silent, unsure if Fredrika believed everything she said. She cleared her throat again.

“What about you? Do you think they’re really in love? Like Maddie says?”

Fredrika nodded. “Um, well, probably. I mean, do you think Wille would have done something so crazy as tell the whole world if he wasn’t? You have to be so in love for that.”

Stella gave her a playful nudge. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I am, aren’t I? Can’t help it,” Fredrika said. She glanced over at the boys again and sighed. “I hope one day I have someone love me like that. Like crazy enough as to want the whole world to know.”

Stella smiled at her, and nodded.

“I know you will,” she said wistfully.

Moments later, the boys looked up at the sky. Simon held out his palm.

“Is it…?” Stella began.

A drop of water landed in the middle of Fredrika’s forehead. They both frowned and looked up. Raindrops began to pelt their faces.

“Oh great,” Stella groaned, rolling off the blanket to get up and pick up her stuff. Turned out they were rainclouds. 

“Oh shit, did you bring an umbrella? Because I didn’t,” Fredrika asked, standing up quickly too. They both forgot about hiding. 

“Never thought it would rain. It was sunny a second ago,” Stella said, rolling the blanket clumsily into her arms and shoving the book and her phone inside her trousers and pocket. She took off her jacket and gestured for Fredrika to get underneath. It was the only thing that would somewhat cover them both. 

“Well, that’s Swedish weather for you!” Fredrika said, grinning as it started to rain. She grabbed the blanket from Stella and  threw it over their shoulders and wrapped her arms around Stella’s waist. 

In the distance, Wilhelm and Simon had jumped off the picnic table and pelted off, holding their coats over their heads. 

“Come on!” Stella said, nudging Fredrika forward whilst trying to keep them both as dry as possible. 

They started running through the forest, laughing and screaming as they skipped over tree roots and stones and fallen branches and mud puddles, going as fast as they could, and getting soaked. The cotton blanket was already wet, water sipping through and soaking their clothes, and becoming a muddy mess at the edges. 

Ahead of them, on the trail, Wilhelm and Simon ran hand in hand, Wilhelm dragging Simon behind, Simon laughing and shouting something. 

“I need them to hurry, my ass is getting wet,” Fredrika hissed. 

“We gotta keep our distance.”

The boys suddenly stopped, and Stella had to stop. Fredrika nearly slipped when she did, and pushed her hair and the sleeve of the jacket out of her face to see.

“Why are we stopping?” Fredrika hissed.

“Because they stopped,” Stella hissed back.

“Oh… but, like… maybe we should run past them, so it doesn’t look like we were following them, you know, like creeps?”

Stella didn’t say anything, she didn’t move. Ahead of them, standing in the rain, Simon tugged at Wilhelm’s jacket and pulled him down toward him, to kiss him. They wrapped their arms around each other, kissing passionately, not caring at all that they were drenched and in the middle of the forest.

She was transfixed, wondering if she wasn’t imagining it. It was like a movie, like a romantic classic, like the ending of ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’, or a scene from ‘Pride and Prejudice’, or… wait, there was no kiss under the rain in ‘Pride and Prejudice’, but it was a love declaration… Were there any kisses in ‘Pride and Prejudice’? 

She wondered if there were any romantic movies where two girls, two women, kissed like that under the rain…

“Stella…” 

Stella snapped out of her reverie and glanced at Fredrika. Her friend had the most sympathetic look on her face.

“Stella, please, I’m cold.”

Before Stella could respond, Wilhelm and Simon stopped and smiled at each other, pressing their foreheads together before turning to keep running. Fredrika and Stella looked at each other and kept going. 

They made it all the way out of woods and dashed toward the nearest building, having lost sight of Wilhelm and Simon before even making it out of the forest. They chose to seek refuge there until at least the rain died down a bit. They stood under the awning, still giggling but now shivering uncontrollably. 

The boys were there too, having had the same idea. They stood near the brick wall, soaked through, hair sticking to their forehead, their breaths visible in wisps of vapor. Simon’s arms were wrapped around Wilhelm underneath his coat, trembling, face buried in his shoulder. Wilhelm was fruitlessly rubbing his hands up and down Simon’s back.

Stella pretended like she hadn’t seen them, pulling her puffer jacket back on and jumping up and down in place, shaking off as much water as she could out of her clothes, which was pointless. Her trousers were waterlogged and muddy, her clothes were sopping, although at least her hair was partially dry. Fredrika looked about the same. Fredrika danced on her spot, arms wrapped tightly around her own body.

“Hey,” she called out to the boys, voice quivering from the cold, “forgot to check the weather too?”

Wilhelm and Simon chuckled at the same time. “Never again,” Wilhelm said through chattering teeth. 

Stella stared at them for a moment, at the way that they were holding each other, trying to keep each other warm, at Simon’s face pressed against Wilhelm’s shoulder and neck, and she quickly looked away. She thought about the way they had kissed under the rain, like it was a chance that they needed to seize, without anyone watching. But they were holding each other in front of Stella and Fredrika, and they didn’t care. They really didn’t care about anyone else. They only cared about each other. 

Stella wanted that.

Two figures in suits and heavy coats came toward them, carrying large umbrellas. Wilhelm’s bodyguards approached, gesturing for the boys to follow them. Wilhelm said something in a low voice and pointed at Stella and Fredrika. The female bodyguard nodded and approached them.

“Hello, ladies, I’m Malin, I’ll escort you to your house,” she said, gesturing for them to get under the umbrella.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Fredrika said, tugging Stella along. 

“Thanks,” Stella said, disconcerted. The male bodyguard was already walking with Wilhelm and Simon toward Forest Ridge house, whilst Stella and Fredrika huddled beside Malin under the umbrella headed toward Manor house. They walked in silence, as quickly as they could, shivering. Fredrika’s arms were wrapped tightly around Stella.

Malin dropped them off at the front door of Manor house, and they thanked her again. Fredrika waved goodbye enthusiastically, and Stella had to tug her inside before they would die from hypothermia. They took off their shoes so that they wouldn’t drip water all down the hallway as they dashed toward their dorm room.

“That was so nice of Wille,” Fredrika said, her voice quivering from the cold, once they reached their room. They shut the door and dropped their things on the floor and stripped off their wet clothes and dried themselves with their towels and jumped under the bed covers wearing only damp underwear, snuggling for warmth. 

“I’ll never be warm again…” Fredrika said, arms wrapped around Stella again. Her skin was cold. 

Stella felt very warm in no time. It wasn’t just the proximity of another half-naked body. It was the fact that it was Fredrika. 

This was precisely why she couldn’t just come out, why it was unthinkable to reveal that part of herself, here and now. 

It would raise too many questions, about the way she and Fredrika had always been with each other, about the physicality of their relationship, about what it meant for her to snuggle half-naked with the girl that had been her best friend her entire life, about all the kissing and the touching and the hugging and the sharing a small bed. As if they were something else. Something more. 

She would never reveal that, never risk it. But people would still wonder.

Fredrika would wonder.

She would ask why her friend kept this from her for so long, why she needed to hide it. She’d wonder what it really meant for them to do all those things, if it meant something completely different to her…

It hadn’t, not for a long time. There hadn’t been anything, until there was. Very gradually and unexpectedly, there it was. 

The touches, the kisses, the hugs, suddenly they were different for her, charged with electricity, and she became aware of something that she didn’t know was in her. 

Or maybe she knew, but chose to ignore it. Until it was too much, too big to ignore.

Suddenly, Fredrika’s was her favorite scent in the world, her favorite touch, her favorite voice, her favorite sound. Suddenly her presence was more than just comforting, it was the bane of her existence. 

Stella twisted her body slightly away from Fredrika. “You’re breathing on me with your stinky breath,” she said, making a face.  Fredrika’s breath smelled of toothpaste but also a little bit of coffee, but it didn’t really bother her.

Fredrika scoffed, pretending to be offended, and started blowing her breath over Stella’s face. Stella snickered, shielding herself from Fredrika’s attack, trying to shove her away, finally putting a hand over Fredrika’s face and pushing her away. Fredrika giggled and settled against the pillows again. 

“I think I’m warm enough now, but I don’t want to go shower because I don’t want to get out of the covers, I’ll be cold again, and I just knoooow that the hot water won’t work when I most need it, and I’m gonna have to wash my hair and it’s too cold for that, but I know we need to hurry because it’ll be dinnertime soon…” Fredrika ranted, rolling over onto her side, facing Stella. At least she didn’t have her arms wrapped around her anymore. 

Stella wished she could stop this. She wished that she had never been this close with her. It ate her up, the guilt of keeping a secret, the knowledge that she was crossing many boundaries, violating her best friend’s trust, even if she didn’t mean to. Like their friendship was a lie. 

Her worst fear in the world was being caught in that lie, by anyone, but especially by Fredrika.

Because Sara now knew, and soon everyone might. 

But stopping now, changing anything now, meant either having to explain why she needed to do that, or telling another lie. And even if she didn’t explain and chose to lie, it would still change everything. 

Changing one little thing would change absolutely everything. And it scared her.

So she was stuck. 

She was stuck feeling things she didn’t really want to feel for someone for whom she cared very much. She was stuck hiding a part of herself. She was stuck dealing with it on her own.

“Yeah, me too,” she answered absently.

She glanced at the floor, at her pile of wet clothes, coat, dripping shoes, and the picnic blanket; her phone lay next to the damp Karin Boye book. 

She’d have to dry that, to return it to Ms Ramirez. Or maybe she’d finish reading it. As boring as it was, perhaps it would help her figure some things out. Hopefully.

Maybe this would pass. She really wished it would, soon enough. Maybe this was just an inevitable, but hopefully temporary part of her life. Maybe she would come out on the other side, feeling different… 

Fredrika’s fingers were again playing and twirling Stella’s hair. Big brown eyes stared up at her again.

“Stella…” she said, in that voice that she only used with her best friend. “Are you sure?”

Stella smiled. She had always been endeared by how persistent Fredrika could be, when she was concerned about her friends, but especially with Stella.

Was Stella sure? That the reason why she had been acting strange had nothing to do with any unrequited feelings for a boy? 

That she instead, unfortunately, harbored unrequited feelings for someone else completely? That the only way that she could express those feelings, for now, were through an anonymous letter? That she had meant every word in it?

“I promise,” Stella said. “If I had feelings for someone, you would be the first person to know.”

She was used to lying by now. It was self-preservation, with a bit of fear and cowardice, and a whole lot of wishful thinking. 

“Okay,” Fredrika said, looking down, like maybe she didn’t completely believe her, but still trusted her. 

Stella let out a small sigh and looked up at the ceiling. 

Maybe it was easier to let Fredrika think that she was crushing on a boy, especially if said boy was in many ways ‘unavailable’.

Maybe that’s just how things should remain for now. Even if it hurt.

Or maybe one day she would be brave, or crazy enough, like Wilhelm, and tell the whole world. 

Maybe one day she’d be free.

Notes:

So to write this particular chapter I rewatched both seasons to go through every Stella moment, and it caught my attention that it’s Stella and her parents sitting at the table with August and his mum and Rickard during Parents’ weekend lunch. I had never really noticed before. Considering how much Stella obviously dislikes August, and how much both Felice and Smysan would want to secure the chance of sitting with Wilhelm (but somehow ended up in the hurriedly-assembled table with the Erikssons), I’m guessing that it wasn’t random. Those mums both want the prince for their daughters.
I would like to clarify that I DO NOT think that Stella is a coward or anything for not coming out. Coming out is a very personal and individual decision. But this is written from Stella’s point of view, and I think that Stella would probably think that Wille coming out was both crazy and brave; he did after all reveal his relationship with Simon and thus the fact that he is not straight in a few words, in front of cameras and a crowd, and especially the Queen. It was an act of defiance. And I bet a part of Stella would want to do the same about her own sexuality, but she would expect it requires her to be brave in a way that she doesn’t feel right now. I bet that Stella would come out eventually, when she graduates, and she doesn’t have to be in the same place as Fredrika all the time. I truly think that Stella might like to come out, she’s hinted at it many times, but not necessarily reveal her feelings to Fredrika, unless she were more sure that these feelings were reciprocated. Either way, I would expect her to feel very scared about it, about how people will treat her if she came out, if she would change, and that’s why she’s unconsciously so razor-focused on Wille, trying to figure out if he seems different, if people are treating him different, and especially if he seems happier now that he’s out. She probably wants those things for herself, but she doesn’t know if it’s possible. And right now Wille is her only frame of reference. If it’s possible for him, a prince with so much more responsibility on his shoulders and much more public scrutiny, then maybe it’s possible for her.

Chapter 18: Running in the dark

Summary:

The Queen wants August to go to therapy too, but he is reluctant.
August POV.

Notes:

I couldn’t let August go by without an August chapter. Because as much as it pains me to get in to his head, he is also fascinating.
It took me long enough, though, because getting into August’s head is like spiraling. And there’s a lot of spiraling in this chapter. At this point in the story, just like at the end of season 3, August doesn’t really know where he stands, he doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him, but he’s lost all control, and he’s probably willing to do anything to get it back. He’s lost and alone, so he’s paranoid.
This was basically ready when I decided to work in some bits of insights from the past. As always, sorry for the length. Hope you enjoy.
TW: substance use, mention of suicide, mention of eating disorder, mentions of mental health issues, grief.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When August first started at Hillerska, grieving and too distraught to socialize, he only hung out with Erik. He followed Erik wherever he went, did everything he did, and liked everything he liked.

Erik’s presence had always made August feel pretty inadequate, because he was charismatic and extroverted and smart and seemingly perfect. Not to mention that he was the Crown Prince, and everyone treated him special, because he was special. It made August feel special by association. He hoped to learn from Erik, to become adequate. He thought of Erik as cool and charming and a role model, the older brother he never had. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to see him as often as he wished, until they were both in boarding school together, and then it lasted only for a year. But it was enough for him.

At Hillerska, and wherever he went, Erik was the center of attention, he was always the person everyone wanted to hang out with. And Erik always hung out with August, always invited him along, always included him in all his activities and gatherings and parties, and stuff. He always introduced him to everyone and made him feel welcome.  

Naturally, everyone wanted to hang out with August after a while, because he was the cousin of the Crown Prince. It was a good thing to be. 

So when Erik asked August if he wanted to join him on his runs, August did. Though at first he was confused about it. Erik liked to run at night.

“It’s just nice,” Erik explained when August asked him why, breathless after they had gotten back the second time from running all the way to the main entrance to Hillerska, then to the stables, the lake, and back to Forest Ridge house. “It’s a chance to be alone with my thoughts, and it clears my head before bed.”

Erik was never truly alone, though. His bodyguards were with him wherever he went. And since August came with him on the night runs, he was even less alone. 

They didn’t run every night, or at least Erik didn’t invite August every night. And August had trouble at first getting used to it, especially when it was cold, feeling his nostrils aching with every breath of chilled air; and at the beginning he felt more tired than usual rather than energized. But after a while he admitted to liking it, liking the adrenaline. Erik said that it became like a drug after a while. 

They didn’t talk during the runs, except to say “let’s go this way” or “watch out for the low branch” or “let’s head back now”. August wondered how long Erik had been running at night, to get so good at making his way without barely any light. 

After Erik graduated, August still kept running at night for a while, or he tried, but it wasn’t the same, he wasn’t as skilled as Erik. He wasn’t very good at finding his way safely in the dark, least of all running. A lot of the time, he was tripping or falling or smacking into things. So he eventually switched to night workouts at the gym. 

Maybe all that had been Erik preparing for his military training, which he started as soon as he graduated from Hillerska. August hadn’t known Erik would enroll in the navy, and for an undetermined period of time. They had never talked about it.

He thought he knew Erik better than most people. He thought that him and Erik were similar, that they shared a lot. 

The truth was that Erik didn’t tell him everything, he wasn’t as honest with him as August thought.

August probably hadn’t known his cousin as well as he thought.

“Where you headed?” Vincent asked. 

August groaned to himself before turning with a smirk. “Got something I need to take care of, I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, adding a wink for effect. No more questions, not saying anything more. 

Vincent and Nils glanced at each other, eyebrows cocked, as if checking if the other knew what he meant. August waved and turned again and started in the opposite direction as his friends.

They had walking back from class toward the dining hall for lunch, Vincent and Nils chatting and joking loudly, when August’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and rolled his eyes. It was a calendar notification, reminding him that he had an appointment with the school counselor in fifteen minutes.

It wasn’t August’s idea in the first place. He hadn’t been planning on going to therapy, least of all with a school counselor, least of all with that school counselor, the socialist. But when Jan-Olof called him on Sunday night to tell him that the Queen specifically stated that August was to start regular counseling to deal with his issues, there was not much point in arguing.

“What issues specifically?” He asked anyway, aggravated. At least he had been in his room, wide awake and sober. The confusion and dread he felt when the call flashed across his phone screen, wondering whether it was good or bad news, was replaced with momentary excitement, that this hopefully meant that he was still, for all intents and purposes, the backup, but that excitement quickly deflated.

“Her Majesty is concerned that there has been a lot of animosity between you and the Crown Prince, which considering all circumstances is not unexpected, but given the most recent developments, it is essential that you do your best to return to some level of civility with him,” Jan-Olof’s emotionless voice droned on. 

August stared out the window. It was dark and cold, few people in heavy coats loitering outside. 

“I’m not… we’re… I don’t think that is necessary,” he said. 

As if on cue, he saw the black car pulling up to the front of the Forest Ridge building. Wilhelm and Simon were back from their weekend away to the Eriksson home.

“August, let me be perfectly clear. This isn’t really a request, it’s a requirement,” Jan-Olof stated. “The Queen expects you to be able to deal with your negative feelings toward the Crown Prince. Your jealousy of him has created a difficult enough situation to deal with, and she won’t have any other repercussions. It is best that you work through it before anything else happens.”

August clenched a fist and pressed it to the side of his thigh; ‘requirement’ was just a more diplomatic way to say ‘order’ or ‘command’.

But what the fuck did they mean by ‘jealousy’?

“I see,” he said, watching as Wilhelm’s bodyguards got out and walked around the car to open the back door, and Wilhelm and Simon exited the car. He watched them grab their bags and head into the building. He couldn’t see their faces. 

“Jan-Olof,” he began carefully, “is there a chance that I could discuss this directly with Her Majesty? Or perhaps you could interject on my behalf? See, I feel this is a really bad time, and perhaps we could wait until after graduation? Which is just around the corner. It’s just that I have a lot going on, with exams, and applications, and an upcoming rowing competition, and I need to focus-”

“Therapy is supposed to help you with those issues too. Focus, stress, anything at all, and you need to make sure to be able to handle changes to your routine after graduation as well, since you will soon begin your military training.”

August scratched his neck. “Yes, of course. But-”

“She agrees this would also be an opportunity for you to address prior issues, especially concerning your family situation.”

”My family situation?” he repeated slower.

”Yes, August.”

August was about to ask exactly what he was referring to, but he kept quiet. Surely this wasn’t about his mother remarrying Rickard. She could do whatever she wanted, and he was old enough to not really care, that was entirely her problem. 

Did the Queen mean about his father’s death? That had been long ago enough, and therapy hadn’t helped the way he had expected. Going to Hillerska had been much better, the change of environment had done a lot for him. Even though his mother’s motivation for enrolling him had been more along the lines of having him taken off her hands. Louise’s parenting skills left a lot to be desired. But it had turned out to be the best decision she had ever made.

Perhaps he just needed a change of environment again. Once he graduated, he’d be away from Wilhelm, away from all this.

“Okay, but perhaps I could seek a therapist nearby, for example in Linköping or-”

“This is not open for discussion. Her Majesty expects you to begin counseling as soon as possible. I have called the counselor myself, Boris, he informed me that you have previously had consultation with him, and he was happy to fit you into his schedule. You will begin tomorrow at eleven thirty, and then Thursday or Friday, whichever suits you best, you can work that out with him during your first appointment, but it will be twice a week for now.”

August stared outside. “Twice…” he muttered.

“If there are any scheduling conflicts, I suggest you work around them. We will be receiving confirmation of your attendance. We could arrange for your mother to be informed as well, if you wish.”

“No,” August said. “That won’t be necessary. But-”

He heard Jan-Olof’s exasperated sigh. “Again, let me be very clear about this: this is not a request, it’s an requirement. And given the circumstances, I suggest that you not protest at all.”

August’s mouth stretched into a forceful smile, even though Jan-Olof couldn’t see him. 

“Understood. I apologize, and thank you, Jan-Olof. I guess I’ll-”

The call disconnected. August stared at the screen for a long moment, then sat on the edge of his bed and dropped the phone beside him, sat there for a long time staring at the wall. He had been about to head out to the gym to work out. 

After a long debate with himself, he walked to the cabinet over his sink, and pulled out the pill bottle. Unscrewing the cap, he tilted one pill into his hand and tossed it back with a drink from the faucet. Taking a deep breath, he placed the bottle back in the cabinet, and stared at his reflection for a long moment, before grabbing his things and walking out the door, on his way to the gym. 

So, on Monday at eleven thirty, his phone buzzed with the reminder; he went up to the teacher in the middle of class to excuse himself. At least when he mentioned counseling, she didn’t ask any further questions. August slipped out discreetly, on his way to Boris’s office. 

August didn’t trust Boris at all; he had to wonder how or why a socialist like him had even decided to work in an elite boarding school anyway, surrounded by upper-class children with strikingly different views. And he wondered if anyone actually ever used his services. He knew that Nils saw him sometimes, though, but they never talked about it. And August wasn’t about to tell him, or anyone, about how he was basically being forced to start frequent counseling.

And he knew that Boris probably didn’t trust him either, considering last year’s appointment. In fact, that barely counted as an appointment, since he hadn’t been there more than five minutes, but it had been enough to know that he never wanted to go back. And he doubted that Boris wanted to deal with him either.

And yet there he was again, sitting across from the big bellied man wearing sandals and a knit sweater, reading glasses pushed up over his bald head, striking a match to light the candle on the table between them, whilst glancing at him with a little smirk on his face that made August want to grab the matchbox and set that sweater on fire. 

“So, August, how have you been?” Boris asked, shaking the match out. 

August gripped the arms of the chair. “Fine,” he replied cuttingly.

“What brings you here today?”

“You know very well why I’m here.”

“I know why I was called to book an appointment, but I want to know what you expect from this session, and from future sessions.”

August took in a deep breath and gave a joyless smile. “Well, if it were up to me…”

“It is up to you.”

“No, it’s not, I wouldn’t even want to be here in the first place, so…”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I’m doing what is expected of me. And just to be clear, this is even worse than them telling me that I’ll be starting military training after graduation, but it’s my duty, so…” He trailed off.

Boris seemed taken aback. “Well, you’re here now. So… might as well make the most of it.”

“Hmmm,” August gave a derisive chuckle and put on a sour smirk. “I think I’ll pass.”

Boris leaned back on his chair, hands on his knees. “We could just talk…”

August let out a tired sigh. “Listen, you have to report to the Royal Court that I’ve come to my appointment, right?”

“Yes.” Boris’s face was blank.

“And you will report that every time I come here as they want.”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t tell them anything about the actual sessions, do you? No notes, nothing, right?”

“Of course not. It is strictly confidential.”

“In that case it doesn’t matter if we even talk for the rest of the session, right?”

Boris took a deep breath and tapped a finger to his knee. “That is correct.”

“Good,” August said, and proceeded to open his notes from the class that he was missing and sat there reading them over, or at least pretended to. Across from him, Boris sat in silence, tapping an erratic rhythm with his finger on his knee. 

When time was up, August stood up and left without a word. 

Most of the students were already eating. August hurried into the Forest Ridge dining hall, which was noisy with chattering voices and the clatter of plates and cutlery. 

A few people turned to look at the latecomer. Lately August felt that any time he entered a crowded room, people turned to look at him and started whispering. Or maybe he was imagining things. 

“Where were you?” Vincent asked as soon as he sat down with a plate of food. Prefect Vincent was always prying. August smiled and shook his head.

“Attending some important matters.” 

“Ooh, ambiguous,” Nils cooed.

“Sorry, can’t reveal anything more,” August responded with a laconic shrug.

That seemed to do it, because Vincent made a face and turned back to his meal, whilst Nils nodded before changing the subject. 

August grinned to himself. He hadn’t told them about his new role, had only hinted what it was about. But that was all he would do at this point, lest they started asking more questions. After all, he wasn’t sure where he stood now. 

He threw a quick glance down the table, at Wilhelm and Simon eating and talking; they had swapped seats. August looked away before he got caught.

He hoped that the fact that he was told to get counseling, meant that he was still in there. And the best policy was to just go with it, regardless of why the Queen thought he needed to put up with Boris twice a week.

It wasn’t fair to imply that August needed help. It wasn’t just him that had problems. They, the Royal Court, the Queen, didn’t seem to know that they were asking the impossible. Even if he did everything he could to improve his relationship with Wilhelm, there was still the issue that Wilhelm fucking hated him.

As far as he knew, he and Simon would hold a grudge against him for the rest of their lives. 

And he had no idea what that could involve.

— 

Dread filled him when Thursday came around. Boris had contacted him, even after that pointless first appointment, to ask him when he preferred to come by again. Defeated, August picked Thursday, so as not to dampen his Friday mood. He also did his most intensive training from Friday and all throughout the weekend. 

Boris contacted him again soon after, asking him if they could meet a bit later, around lunch at least this one time, and August reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t about skipping lunch, he hadn’t been eating much anyway, appetite skewed since the jubilee; he was more worried about being away from the dining hall during that period and people talking about him in his absence. 

Although, if he was honest, sometimes he preferred being away from everyone. Especially Vincent. And Wilhelm and Simon. 

The building was mostly deserted because everyone was headed to lunch. There were a couple of people around the lockers, and in the library. August went to fetch a book from his locker, to read during the session, then cut across the furthest row of lockers and walked through the open door to the hallway leading to Boris’s office. It was another five minutes before his appointment, and the door was closed. There was someone else in there with Boris right now, whoever had taken over his appointment. 

Perhaps he should have been a bit late, so that he wouldn’t have to stand around waiting outside the door. He leaned against the wall, right next to the collection of pamphlets announcing different issues and mental conditions in big bold letters: BULLYING AND HARASSMENT, DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, WORRY AND PANIC ATTACKS, ATTENTION DEFICIT HYPERACTIVITY DISORDER, BEREAVEMENT AND GRIEF, ANGER, SLEEP PROBLEMS, POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS…

August thumped his head against the wall and sighed. Only a few more months of this bullshit and he’d be free. He kept telling himself that, trying to find ways to make time go faster.

But then he would remember that, as soon as he graduated, he was supposed to start his military training, a ten-year plan. Something that he hadn’t considered at all before, and he hadn’t yet wrapped his head around. 

What about his plans to study agricultural management? What would happen to Årnas in the meantime? He couldn’t rely on his mother to care for it, she had no obligation to it. She had a whole new life (whatever that was). Also she simply didn’t care. 

He hadn’t spoken to his mother about any of this. Did she know? Did the Queen perhaps tell her that August was being considered as the potential next in line to the throne? They hadn’t even spoken more about his university plans, or any future plans for that matter. She hadn’t asked either. Perhaps she didn’t even care. She was busy with her new life and her new husband.

He suddenly remembered Rickard. He shouldn’t have contacted him, about the video and the possible legal consequences for recording and posting it, making his stepfather suspect that he was involved. Would he have told his mother about it?

Why did he post that fucking video…?

He now asked himself that question every single day. As he woke up each morning and mentally prepared himself for another day of seeing Wilhelm and Simon sitting together at breakfast, of listening to Vincent ramble on about house duties and rowing practice, of catching people peering at him and whispering about him, of Sara ignoring him, he thought of that brief moment of hesitation before he pressed the Enter key and made the worst mistake of his life.

Not a single actual rational thought or potential adverse scenario crossed his mind as he watched the growing progress bar indicating that the video was going live…

He felt conflicted, yet oddly satisfied.

That satisfaction quickly dissipated when he spotted Sara’s curious face in the dim lighting, staring at him through the window.

It was replaced with deep guilt when he listened to Minou over the phone.

It was replaced with regret when he saw Wilhelm staring at his phone, color draining from his face, looking around in a panic before dashing out of the building, bodyguards in tow, whilst people around him were suddenly looking at their own phones, gasping and nudging each other, clearly all watching the same thing.

And it was replaced with self-hatred when he looked away from his younger cousin’s tear-stained face, after bringing him a meal that he wouldn’t be able to stomach yet, listening to his distressed apology and rambling.

“I wish Erik was here…” Wilhelm had said, and August had felt like his insides had been removed.

Erik. 

He had promised Erik he would take care of Wilhelm. Erik had trusted him.

And he had done the exact opposite.

The sound of a locker door slamming shut startled him. He heard a giggle, followed by steps as the stragglers left the building. 

August let out a tired sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had a constant headache now.

He hadn’t been lying to Jan-Olof when he said he had a lot on his mind. Sleeping badly and eating poorly was having effects on his ability to focus, and he was not doing his best in class or in training, not like he was used to performing. On top of that, he was overseeing the preparations for the graduation ceremony, which normally would have felt right in his element, but he was no longer excited about it. Everything was too much of a mess. 

And as graduation approached, he still hadn’t figured out what to do about the fucking horse that he had bought for Sara, in what he hoped would have been a grand romantic gesture. He was stuck with it, paying the stables guy to care for him and feed him whilst discreetly trying to find a buyer. The people who had bought Rousseau from Felice were no longer interested. That was partially good news, since Sara had really hated them, but he was running out of time. And money.

And the whole time, he wondered if Sara would ever talk to him again. He had seen her maybe twice this week, as she was leaving the school. He wondered what it was like for her now that her brother and her friends were not speaking to her, now that she had moved back home. The Manor house prefect had asked him about her, why Sara had moved out after only a couple of months, why he had recommended her at all, raising more questions that he didn’t want to deal with. The general consensus was that it had something to do with August and Felice and maybe even Wilhelm and Simon, but people wanted to know more. They always wanted more.

His last year was turning out far from how he had expected. Even the Society was all over the place, they hadn’t met even once since using Alexander as scapegoat. Or maybe they were; he suspected that Vincent might have rallied the others to meet without August. Wilhelm obviously didn’t care, never did, regardless of how the other members of the Society felt about him now. 

But August had been shunned.

Alexander had not spoken to him again either, even avoided him as much as he could. August shouldn’t have brought him into the fold either, didn’t think it through, but he had been desperate, knowing that Simon would not wait. That day, Alexander hadn’t looked fully convinced about the idea of screwing Wilhelm over, despite his resentment. What if he now went to the police to report August for posting the video? What if he confessed to the whole plan?

But August was supposed to be under the protection of the Royal Court. As the only realistic potential option for a backup for Wilhelm, they would protect him. 

Wouldn’t they?

Except that he didn’t know for sure. He didn’t know where he stood with them now. 

Now that Wilhelm and Simon were officially together, August knew that things were happening, there were adjustments being made. He knew that Simon was to become a boarder, Vincent told him that the board had announced to him that he’d soon be an official Forest Ridge housemate, with his own private room. At least the others would shut up about the prince and his boyfriend supposedly having non-stop noisy sex in their shared room.

What if the Royal Court now protected Simon? He was Wilhelm’s boyfriend, and the press and the public were eating it up, and not just in Sweden. The whole world was watching now. The Royal Court had made that statement, and they were making Simon a boarder. Hell, they even shuttled the happy couple off to Simon’s house every fucking weekend, had extra security posted outside the house and everything.

The Royal Court would do anything to avoid any more scandals.

Simon was definitely under their protection now.

What about August?

What if Simon still reported him? What if, even if August also reported Simon about the drugs, nothing happened to him? 

He had no idea how it could work out, if he had any advantage at all, no way of finding out. 

But the Queen had told him to go to therapy, so that meant that she still wanted him to be the backup, right? 

No, she didn’t want him as the backup, she was very clear about that, that it hadn’t been her choice. Because the Royal Court was worried about Wilhelm not fulfilling his role, because he had been acting erratic, because he might renounce his title, because of all the scandals, because they needed a backup urgently. So, despite what he had done to Wilhelm, the Queen was stuck with August.

And August was just… stuck.

It could all really be up to Wilhelm now. If he really became the Crown Prince that everyone expected him to be, and the people loved him, and if they loved Simon too, then maybe August wasn’t in the running anymore. Perhaps Wilhelm would convince the Royal Court that August should not be the backup, for obvious reasons, and that they should find someone else. 

Maybe, now that Wilhelm was back to his senses somewhat, the Queen wasn’t stuck with August anymore… 

Or maybe… maybe she was testing him. Testing his loyalty.

So maybe he should go to therapy. 

But what if that was all a plot, to try to find out stuff about him? Stuff that would prove that he was not suited to be a backup? What if…

What if Wilhelm had told his mother about the drugs? And now they were trying to get him to confess? What if they were trying to squeeze it out of him, so he would damn himself…

In his mind’s eye, he saw the pill bottle in his cabinet, the bottle of Retamin Opti, clearly labeled ‘Micke Eriksson’. 

Wait, Wilhelm didn’t know that he took it for himself. He didn’t know that he was taking ADHD medication without a diagnosis, medication prescribed to someone else. He didn’t know anything about that. 

But Simon had known.

Simon knew because of Sara. Because August had approached Sara to ask her about her prescription.

And Sara knew. Because she had seen him. Because he had been stupid enough to take it in front of her.

What if Sara told them? Sara might-

There was a sudden deafening silence. He hadn’t realized there had been music coming from the music room, someone playing the piano, until it stopped. August realized that he had been breathing hard, spiraling.

The door of the music room clicked open and then closed, and there were steps coming closer. August nearly jumped when he saw Wilhelm coming toward him slowly. 

He had barely come face to face with his cousin in the past two weeks. They both obviously preferred it that way. 

To his chagrin, Wilhelm stopped a few paces from him, calm and collected, his face betraying no emotion whatsoever. He leaned casually against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets. Eyes passed over him, as if August weren’t even there. 

To think that this was the same person who, a little over a week ago, had held a gun to his head and spat on him. 

Neither of them said a word. 

August glanced at his watch. He cleared his throat, and was about to ask Wilhelm why he was there. August had had an inkling that Wilhelm was regularly seeing Boris too. Either Wilhelm got mixed up about his appointment, or Boris told August the wrong time.   

Then he heard voices approaching from the other side of the door, and August knew why Wilhelm was here. 

“Okay, well, see you next week,” Simon’s voice floated, as the door opened. 

“Take care, Simon,” Boris said, holding the door open. Out of the corner of his eye, because his eyes were resolutely fixed on the space on the wall to Wilhelm’s left, he saw the shorter boy step out, waving over his shoulder at Boris. He smiled when he spotted Wilhelm waiting for him, but the smile faded as soon as he noticed the other person in the hallway.

It almost felt like an ambush, the two people August least wanted to encounter in the place where he least wanted to be.

Wilhelm did not miss a beat. With a smile, he put it around Simon’s shoulders and led him away. “Thanks, Boris, see you later,” he said, waving back at Boris before turning his full attention to Simon. “Come on, let’s go get lunch,” he said. “How was it?”  

Simon seemed to relax after a moment and started to answer, though their voices became unintelligible as they walked out of the hallway and turned the corner. August’s mouth tasted bitter. 

“Hello, August, good to see you. Please come in.”

August took a deep breath, saying nothing as he walked in, feet heavy.

He wandered around the small office for a bit, staring at the pictures on the walls, at the trinkets on Boris’s desk, at the Sternhalma board that was always on the side table (did anyone ever use it?). He felt Boris watching him from the door.

“Let’s get this over with,” August huffed, taking the usual seat and opening the book. “I have a lot of material to catch up with.”

Boris lingered by the door for a bit before offering him something to drink, busying himself with boiling water for tea. August refused, looking at his book. Just looking, because he couldn’t focus. By the time Boris sat down across from him with a steaming cup of tea in his hand, August had read the same paragraph three times but failed to absorb anything.

“August, why not actually use our time together to talk about anything you want?”

August ignored him, flipping the page. The words were like black squiggles on the page. His mind was all over the place. 

He looked up at Boris, who was blowing at his tea to cool it. 

“How long has Simon Eriksson been coming to see you?” August asked. Boris stopped and looked at him, a small smile in his eyes. 

“August, you know very well that I can’t share anything about my meetings with any of the other students.”

“Even if you asked me to move my appointment to fit him into your schedule? I should be having lunch right now, and so should you, I guess, but here we are,” August pointed out.

“Yes, I apologize for that, but it was a last minute request, and I couldn’t find an alternative in that moment,” Boris said. “In the future I will make the necessary rearrangements to be able to-”

“Did the Royal Court schedule his appointment like they did with me? Or did he book his own appointment?”

Boris remained quiet. 

“Have he and Wille been coming to see you for a while?” 

There was a long pause as Boris leaned forward to place his cup of tea on the table.

“Do you report about them to the Royal Court too?”

“Again, August, I can’t talk about that with you, or anyone.”

August slammed the book shut and leaned back on the chair, nostrils flaring. 

He didn’t trust Boris. Boris was seeing Wilhelm and Simon and they probably told him everything, about the drugs, the video, the blackmail, everything. How could he trust him? Anything he said could be used against him. This socialist asshole would probably side with the socialist asshole kid and his fucking crown prince boyfriend who were both out to get him. 

And now he was forced to take time out of his schedule to sit here with the socialist asshole to ‘deal with his jealousy’… how could he be jealous of Wilhelm? Wilhelm had no idea what he had, what he represented. He valued none of it. He didn’t care about his privilege, or his status, or the fact that any girl at the school, including Felice, would stumble over each other to get with him. He didn’t care what people thought about him, what was expected of him. He didn’t care about his legacy, or his brother’s legacy. He didn’t want to be a prince. He didn’t want to become king. 

He was willing to give all of it up, to screw up everything, for a fucking boy without a single krona to his name. 

For love.

Bullshit.

“August,” Boris said, snapping him out of his spiral again. August looked up to find Boris holding a glass of water toward him. 

August was confused for a moment, before he realized how agitated he had just gotten, again. He took the glass of water and drank it in three gulps. Boris sat back down and watched him again. 

August gripped the empty glass in one hand. Knee bouncing up and down out of control, he willed himself to stop, calm down. He leaned his head on his free hand. 

He needed to get the fuck out of that office.

”So,” Boris began casually, reaching for his tea again, “graduation is coming up.” He leaned forward, elbows on the arms of the chair, fingertips touching in front of his belly. “That must feel like a lot of pressure, perhaps even stressful.”

August’s fake smile was squished against his own hand.

“Yes, of course, but not as stressful as for those who haven’t been keeping up with their studies, I bet.” 

“So you have been keeping up with your studies with no problem.” 

“Yes,” August lied. “I have a rigorous schedule.”

Boris nodded. “And are you doing anything special to keep focused, and to deal with the stress?”

“I just said I’m fine.”

“Yes, I heard you, but you might still feel the pressure, and you might not realize the effects that it could have on you. It’s important to keep a routine, yes, but also not overwork yourself. Taking time off is essential, especially as exams draw nearer.”

“I know myself, I know how I perform best, so I don’t think I need to change anything. I’m doing fine,” August said, defiant.

“I’m not saying that you aren’t, but even the most balanced person could need help to deal with the mounting pressure. Expectations from others and from yourself are high, and it can be overwhelming.”

August narrowed his eyes. Was Boris fishing for something? Information about the drugs? Did he really know about them? Could Wilhelm or Simon had actually told him? 

They absolutely would. He had to assume they did.

He gave a sharp inhale. “I am perfectly capable of doing this. I’ve been doing this, performing perfectly this whole time.”

Boris nodded slowly. “Well, what about after graduation? What about the military, and perhaps uni? Either ones are big steps and there’s even more pressure, and it’s best to develop mechanisms to deal with it.”

August frowned. “How do you know about me joining the military?”

There was a silence. Boris looked a bit disconcerted. 

“You told me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You mentioned it on our previous appointment, and you-”

“We barely talked. And I would never talk about those things with you.”

Boris gave him a wry smile. “Well, if you wanted to, you could. That’s all I’m saying.”

With another big sigh, August leaned forward and glared at the balding man. 

“Do you even care?” He asked. “You didn’t seem to care last time, not enough to help me. I needed help right away, and you just wanted to take your time with tests and questionnaires.”

“If you still need help, I’d be glad to do an assessment. But do you think you might have ADHD? Because what you were describing that time was stress, and I could have helped you immediately with that,” Boris stood up and grabbed a pamphlet from his desk, like the ones in the pocket board outside. The large bold letters read STRESS MANAGEMENT. “We always need support, and to vent about these things-”

August reluctantly snatched the pamphlet from his hand, but didn’t look at it.

“Thanks, but I can handle it.”

Boris was about to say something else, but August stood up.

“You know what? I’m really hungry, so I’m gonna leave. It’s not my fault that you scheduled me for lunchtime, and it’s unfair to ask me to skip it just to sit here and stare at each other. This was pointless anyway, as always, so I guess I’ll see you next week for another chance to waste both of our times.”

He walked to the door. “And I still came, so you have to report that.”

Boris didn’t respond, and August stepped out and slammed the door. 

He was going to have to do this every week. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to put up with it. 

The pamphlet was squeezed in his closed fist. He unfolded it and quickly scanned the contents.

Stress symptoms may be affecting your health, even though you might not know it. You may blame sickness for that annoying headache, your sleeping troubles, feeling unwell or your lack of focus at work. But stress may really be the cause…

Common effects of stress: Stress symptoms can affect your body, your thoughts and feelings, and your behavior. Stress that's not dealt with can lead to many health problems, such as high blood pressure, heart disease, stroke, obesity, diabetes…

Knowing common stress symptoms can help you manage them…

On your body: Headaches, muscle tension, chest pain, fatigue, change in sex drive, upset stomach, sleep problems…

On your mood: Anxiety, restlessness, lack of motivation, grumpiness, sadness or depression, memory problems, feeling overwhelmed…

On your behavior: Overeating or undereating, angry outbursts, tobacco use, avoiding friends, exercising less often, getting sick easier, drug or alcohol misuse or abuse…

August crumpled the pamphlet and tossed it in the nearest bin he could find, on the way out of the building. He started walking toward the main building, to catch up with the others at Forest Ridge, but he stopped.

Wilhelm and Simon would be there. Wilhelm and Simon, who had seen him there, outside the counselor’s office, waiting for his turn. 

He felt nauseated. 

No one would be in Forest Ridge, so he snuck back to his dorm room and kicked off his shoes and laid down. He thought about telling the teachers that he was unwell, so that he didn’t have to go back to class. But they’d tell him to go to the infirmary. 

So he set an alarm on his phone to alert him in time for his next class.

He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His head hurt a little, or a lot. It had been hurting for so long, that he was barely aware of it, except when it went from dull to intense. 

He closed his eyes and tried to rest, tried to relax, tried to will the headache away.

He thought of Erik. 

Before, he would think of Erik whenever he felt lost, and it comforted him. 

Thinking of Erik now was just his own guilt staring him in the face. 

Why the fuck did he post that video…?

When August first arrived at Hillerska, a month after his father’s death, and a week after school had started, Erik was the first person to greet him and hug him.

It had been the first proper hug he got, a genuine, comforting hug. 

“I’m here for you, okay?” Erik said. “If you ever need to talk, if you need support, I’m here.”

He had felt safe, he had felt welcome and cared for. His initiation hadn’t been as bad as he expected, and he suspected that Erik had something to do with that. At the party afterwards, Erik never left his side. 

As August adjusted to life in Hillerska, Erik had already persuaded him into joining the rowing team, and taught him everything he needed to know about how things worked in the school. He had already partied, he had hooked up with a girl from Haga house, he had stood on the table at breakfast the next day and talked about it. 

A month later, Erik himself led him to the palatset in the middle of the night, making his way there without the aid of a torch, and showed him into the private room, where the gathered group of boys from all years waited for him, standing in a semicircle by candlelight, welcoming him.

They explained what the Society was, how he as first born and now the landowner of Årnas, and even better, cousin of the Crown Prince of Sweden, was now an important member of the exclusive group, and how he was meant to carry the legacy. August felt honored, as Erik told him that he was duty bound to protect the monarchy, and he accepted. They gambled for a while, took shots, and got him majorly drunk. 

He remembered some things from that night, especially the solemnity when they swore him in, but then nothing else until he was outside, with Erik, taking a piss into some bushes, and he started crying. 

It was still fresh, still painful, and it made him angry. 

Erik pulled him into a hug, a comforting hand on the back of his head. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”

August was unable to talk, but he felt better. Erik never brought it up again. 

When Erik graduated from Hillerska, he hugged August and told him to take care of Wilhelm when the time came for his little brother to enroll, and August had promised. 

“I trust that you will make him feel at home,” Erik said with a wide grin, squeezing August. 

“I will,” he said, beaming with pride.

Wilhelm was nothing like Erik. He was stubborn and rebellious and he disliked being treated differently. He already hated Hillerska before he even go there, a month after the start of the school year, hated leaving behind whatever “normal” life he thought he had in a public school in Stockholm. Not even his brother convinced him that he’d be okay, that he’d like it there, that he’d get used to it.  

And August tried, he really did. He tried to be for Wilhelm what Erik had been for him. A role model, a brother, someone to resort to in a time of need. 

He tried, and resented Wilhelm for every instance that proved that he was failing. 

When Erik died, it was worse than losing his father. At least with his father, he had seen it coming; he had reached a point of no return, and August secretly resented him for the shame that he brought to the family. He knew that his father would die sooner rather than later, although he hadn’t thought he’d to die by his own hand.

But with Erik… it had been unexpected, like a punch in the gut. He had been unprepared, disarmed, devastated.

At least he was more mature now, more level-headed, and he had learned everything he needed to know.

He had a lot going on as well, with his own finances, with his father’s endangered legacy, with Felice, with Simon pestering him about the money. But he had to be strong, for his cousin, for everyone. He had to keep his promise to Erik.

That night, when he recorded that video, when he discovered something about Wilhelm that he was not expecting at all, he didn’t know what to do. He was unprepared again, he felt inadequate again. 

And then things began to go further south with Wilhelm; he was challenging him, he was not acting the way that August had hoped he would, and then he humiliated him in front of his peers in the Society… and August reached his last straw.

But it wasn’t until he had seen Wilhelm’s pale face as he ran out of the building, as every cellphone in the room started pinging with message alerts, as the video made the rounds on the Internet, as the whole world watched the Crown Prince, his younger cousin, naked and unaware, that August realized he had broken his promise. 

“I know you’re trying to help me… I know I’ve let you down…” Wilhelm had said miserably, eyes rimmed red from crying, prattling on, and August felt his insides turning.

“I wish Erik was here…”

August shook his head, not knowing what to say.

“I think Erik would have wanted you to just be yourself,” he had replied automatically, because it sounded like something Erik would say. It sounded comforting. 

Maybe Erik would have wanted that, maybe he would have said that to encourage his brother, but August didn’t know. He didn’t know Erik as well as he claimed.

He didn’t know anything.

August shot up in bed, startled, heart thumping in his chest. The alarm had gone off, loud enough to nearly give him a heart attack.

He reached for his phone and cancelled the alarm, still feeling nauseated. 

Everyone would be heading back to class now that lunch was over. He should be heading back to class now.

He swung his legs off the edge of his bed and sat there, breathing hard, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down. He walked on wobbly legs to the sink to splash water on his face. Get your shit together, he told himself, sneering at his wet face in the mirror. 

He felt like the first time he went for a night run without Erik. He constantly felt like he was running in the dark, nervous and full of adrenaline, continuously tripping and falling and smacking into obstacles, not knowing what to do or where to go.

But he had to keep going.

He dried his face and pour himself a glass of water. After much hesitation, he reached for the pill bottle in the cabinet, dropped a pill onto his palm and tossed it back with a gulp of water. This time he hid the pill bottle inside a shoe, closed the wardrobe, and headed out, feeling sharper. 

“And where are you headed now?” Vincent asked, as August headed for the gym exit as soon as practice ended.

“None of your business,” August snapped, but quickly added a smile, to indicate that he was joking. He wasn’t. 

Vincent smiled too, a wide smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It is actually my business, because we’re not done with practice. The competition is in less than a month, and we need to work extra hard-”

“I know. I need to take care of something real quick. I will be back soon,” August said, starting to jog away backwards. “See? I’m still training.”

“Whatever, man, we’re also trying out replacements for your cousin and his boyfriend, and-”

August jogged away before he had to hear another word from Vincent.

He literally had to go see a man about a horse; the stables guy, Marcus, whom he had roped in as soon as his counteroffer for Rousseau was accepted. He needed someone to take care of the horse whilst he found the right moment to tell Sara about it. 

Never would he have thought that Sara would turn down his gift. He’d been under the impression that she loved that horse more than anything. He had been wrong. 

And now, as long as it was in his possession, he needed Marcus to be Rousseau’s caretaker until he figured out what to do. 

Marcus, apparently, was terrible at replying to messages; he took a long time to text back, often leaving him on read for an entire day. So August was finally stopping by the stables to check that Rousseau was okay, to make sure that Marcus wasn’t scamming him and not taking proper care of him.

In the distance, on the path covered with arching trees, he spotted Wilhelm, Simon, Felice and Maddie walking and chatting. Wilhelm and Simon were wearing their new white fencing uniforms, presumably on their way back from practice. 

According to the fencing co-captain, a third year from Manor house, both Simon and Wilhelm had done pretty well in their tryouts, and they were already training to become part of the team. Whatever prompted the Crown Prince to quit rowing and pursue fencing, it had been the right choice, she said, and Simon was even better, a natural. 

And how exactly was Simon able to afford the uniform and equipment, August wondered with a roll of his eyes. For all his socialist world views and eschewing of the privileged traditions of the school and all its students, Simon seemed to be enjoying the spoils of his high-status relationship. Did the Royal Court make sure to provide for him, or was it all at the behest of Wilhelm?

August took the longest way around to the stables, so no one would see him. As far as anyone knew, he had no business there. 

The pungent smell of horse shit hit him on the nose as he got closer. He guessed it was worse during the day, when the sun was still out, and wondered how anyone put up with it. It probably took some getting used to it. 

Sara hadn’t minded at all, he was sure of it.

He heard noises coming from one of the stables and headed there. As soon as he peeked inside, he was met with Stella and Fredrika, brushing a horse’s flank and giggling about something. They stopped what they were doing and stared at him. 

“Oh hi,” he said, mentally kicking himself. He should have known they would be there; Stella was competing in an important horse show in spring, and she was training a lot. And wherever Stella was, Fredrika was sure to be too. So now he managed to run into two of the biggest gossips in Hillerska. He was sure that they were at least responsible for all of Manor house knowing about him and Sara only minutes after Felice had stomped back into her dorm room. 

Neither of them said hello. Fredrika’s face was pretty neutral, whilst Stella wore the same judgmental sneer that she always had for him. However much they knew about what had happened with Sara and Felice, he guessed they weren’t glad to see him. 

“Uh… have either of you seen, um, Marcus?” He asked casually.

Fredrika nodded. “Yeah, he’s down by the warehouses. Why?” Of course she asked why; as any good gossip would, she wanted to know why August, of all people, was looking for Marcus, of all people. 

August shook his head and shrugged. “Oh, nothing, about going to the shooting range. I don’t have his number,” he lied.

Fredrika seemed satisfied with the answer, albeit a bit disappointed, and went back to brushing the horse. Stella’s cold stare lingered on him. He grinned at her. She didn’t.

August backed away slowly and warily, much like he would move away from a horse. 

When he walked toward the warehouses, he heard someone cursing. As he rounded a corner into the nearest one, he found Marcus staring at his phone, seething. 

“Hey, Marcus,” August said. 

Marcus looked up, startled, frowning. “Oh,” he said flatly. “Hey.”

“Sorry if I’m… interrupting?”

“No, no, just working.” Marcus’s eyes flitted back on his phone for a moment.

“Okay, well, I was nearby and I thought I’d come by to check on Rousseau,” August said in his most casual voice. “Have you been getting my transfers?”

“Yes,” Marcus said, gesturing lamely to his phone before putting it back in his pocket.

“And… is the horse in the same stables where you put him at first?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good,” August nodded, looking around. “Can I go see him?”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. “You don’t trust that I’m taking good care of him?”

August shook his head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m sure you are. I just…” he shrugged. “Guess I’m just restless because I haven’t found any buyers.”

“He’s a good horse. Someone will be interested,” Marcus assured him, dragging a cart over to a pile of heavy jute sacks and started loading them onto it. 

“Well, I heard it was hard enough for Felice’s family to find a buyer in the first place, so… you get why I’m a bit worried.”

He wasn’t lying about that. This was his first time trying to sell a horse, after all, and he couldn’t ask for help from any experts or advertise it more widely without drawing attention, but he still needed it to happen fast, otherwise he’d have to sell another valuable artwork to be able to afford Rousseau’s food and caretaking. He couldn’t afford a dead horse either. 

Marcus shook his head. “That’s because they did it too quick, they just went with the first decent offer. If they had waited a bit, someone else would have made a better offer, and probably be better owners.”

August nodded again. He didn’t know if he trusted Marcus, barely knew him, and their relationship was purely transactional. He had only spoken to him briefly at the shooting range, but besides that, he didn’t know much about him, except from what Sara had told him. He was basically the only person August could think of for taking care of Rousseau. But Marcus did indeed seem to know his stuff. 

Marcus stopped and pulled his phone out of his pocket again, glaring at it. For someone who never replied to his messages, he seemed to spend enough time on his phone.

“Something wrong?” He asked in a gentle voice. Marcus glanced at him, before shoving the phone into his pocket again, nostrils flaring, and continued to load sacks.

“Nothing. It’s just… nothing.” 

August rolled his eyes, and was about to leave, when he thought of something. 

The first time he had seen Marcus, actually noticed him, even if he hadn’t known his name at the time, was when he spotted him with Simon. He saw them at the rowing competition, and at the ball, and August figured that Simon was either dating him or just pretending to. Either way, they weren’t anymore. Something must have happened between them, before or after Simon and Wilhelm got back together.

All he knew was that Simon should have stayed in his lane.

He watched Marcus as he huffed and pocketed his phone again. 

It could be worth a shot. A real shot in the dark, thought, but perhaps still worth it. August had nothing to lose.

He cleared his throat. “Is it about… Simon Eriksson?”

As he expected, Marcus glared at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, it’s all over the school.” That was more than an exaggeration. He hadn’t actually heard anyone bring up Marcus, most people probably barely noticed him around, but since Wilhelm and Simon were all that anyone talked about as of late, it was somewhat believable that Simon’s “ex”, who happened to work at the Hillerska stables, and whom he dumped or ghosted or whatever just before getting back together with the prince, might come up.

Marcus shook his head and said nothing. Of course he didn’t trust him. It was obvious that he barely tolerated August or any of the rich kids at Hillerska. So it was a question of whether he disliked August more than he disliked the boy that had dumped him for an fucking prince. And the prince himself too. 

August held up his hands. “Never mind, you don’t have to tell me, I guess, but I… I bet I get it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Look, I know you had a thing with Simon, and that it didn’t end well. Because of Wilhelm.”

Marcus appeared to be gritting his teeth, his jaw set. He dropped another sack onto the pile on the cart and sighed. After what appeared to be a long debate with himself, he looked at August.  

“People knew that I was with him, they knew that I liked him… and now… everyone keeps taunting me about him, they keep sending me all these posts about him, about… them…” he said, sounding and looking bitter. 

“Which people?”

“At my school. In my neighborhood.”

“Ugh, that must be hard.” 

Marcus shook his head. “I didn’t even do anything to deserve that. He just… ghosted me one day. And then he reappeared and tried to apologize, and he had obviously just been with him… I was stupid, I didn’t want to admit to myself that he never really wanted to be with me, he was just using me to make him jealous.”

He kept saying him to refer to Wilhelm. August nodded. 

“Yeah, he’s full of shit.”

Marcus nodded. “He is. I can’t believe I fell for his act of this, this… holier-than-thou righteous guy. He’s always claimed to be a socialist, but look at where he is. Look at who he’s with. It’s bullshit.”

“I agree,” August nodded too. “And… I know that you might not believe me, but something similar happened to me, with Sara.”

“You and Sara Eriksson?”

“Yeah. We were… together… in a way… I mean, I really liked her. Maybe even…” He sighed. “And I’m pretty sure she liked me. But I knew they would have an opinion about it, and that’s exactly why we didn’t want anyone to know. They… they got in her head. We had a good thing going, and they… decided to intervene.”

“Why?”

“Because Wilhelm doesn’t like me, and therefore Simon doesn’t like me either.”

Marcus looked perplexed. “Isn’t he… your cousin? Or something?”

“He is. Which is why it’s so upsetting. We’re family.” August ran a hand through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. “And I haven’t done anything about being made the target of this… smear campaign, I just put up with it, but… I’m fed up. And I take it that you are too. I mean, if I were you, I wouldn’t take kindly to being used like that, either.”

There was a silence. Marcus’s face was stony. 

“What are you getting at?”

“Nothing, I just… I get it.” August bit his lip. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to get back at them somewhat.”

With a huff, Marcus rolled his eyes and returned to his task.

“Whatever you’re implying, I’m not interested,” he said cuttingly. August let out a scoff. 

“I’m not implying anything, I just… you know, it would make sense if you’re-”

“Listen, I’m not interested in trying to pursue a guy who clearly has no interest in me. And I’m not interested in any drama, especially with a bunch of pompous trust fund children.”

The silence was filled with the sound of heavy sacks falling one on top of the other. August shrugged after a moment. 

“Fine. I was just saying that, you know, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to take care of that chip on your shoulder. And… since you’re helping me, I wouldn’t mind helping you.”

Marcus didn’t say anything, but he kept working. August continued.

“Well, if you’re fine leaving things as they are, good. But I don’t think it’s fair that we’re now being the target of all this taunting, just because we tried to have a good thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know about you, but I really thought that Sara and I… anyway, I got the horse for her, did I tell you that? She was so sad about Rousseau being sold, so I bought it back for her. But… they got in her head, basically manipulated her into breaking things off. They convinced her that I didn’t care about her, that I just wanted to hook up.”

Marcus stopped, pushing his sleeves up a bit and wiping at his nose with the back of his gloved hand. 

“Meanwhile they act like they’re these… star-crossed lovers or some bullshit,” August continued, “but between you and me, how long is that going to even last? Everyone knows that they won’t make it past this year. They just… don’t belong together. And they’re both going to faceplant over that truth soon-”

“Are you done?”

August paused and looked at Marcus. The other boy stared at him expectantly. 

“Sorry. Sorry for venting at you. I… You know, I haven’t talked about this with anyone. Everyone has been treating me differently since then. They… they made me look like an asshole too. It’s not fair.”

There was a long silence, Marcus nodding whilst staring into space.

“Sucks,” he finally said. “Good luck with that.”

Just then, his phone vibrated again, and he reluctantly pulled it out. As he read probably yet another mocking comment, he looked like maybe, just maybe, everything that August had said was starting to sink in. 

August bit his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose and letting it out slowly. 

“Well, I’m gonna go check on Rousseau,” he said. Marcus put his phone away again. 

“Yeah,” he said absently. “Yeah, sure, come on.”

“Oh… okay,” August grinned, walking after Marcus, headed for the stables nearest to the warehouse, the empty ones, where no one would just stumble upon Rousseau. 

Maybe, just maybe, Marcus didn’t think of him so much as a pompous trust fund child anymore.

Maybe that shot in the dark was worth it.

He went back to the gym, even though practice was over. His stuff was in the lockers and he still had to shower.

“Where the fuck were you, man?” Vincent asked in his Vincent tone, angry but less intimidating by the mere fact that he was fully naked in the middle of the locker room. August gave him an apologetic smile and told him that he’d explain later, which gave him time to think of something to say that would get Vincent off his fucking back. He showered as fast as he could, brushing off Nils as he tried to make conversation, and headed out, toward Forest Ridge. There was enough time to drop his stuff off in his room before dinner.

As he stepped out into the open, his phone pinged with an incoming message. Marcus.

To August’s surprise, he sent him some screenshots and a forwarded text: 

- did u really think ud get with him *laughing emoji* https://www.instagram.com/p/CwQ2O6Ay18x/?igshi=MzRlODBiN== - an unsaved contact had texted Marcus earlier that afternoon, presumably whilst they had been in the warehouse talking.

Instead of expecting August to click the link, Marcus had attached screenshots of the Instagram slides. August recognized the username and the girl from the fencing team, who had taken a selfie during practice, but it was clearly intended to capture something behind her; just over her shoulder, Wilhelm and Simon were visible, smiling at each other as Wilhelm helped Simon adjust the protective padding over his chest. The second selfie/picture was the same, but Wilhelm and Simon were laughing. The post was from two hours earlier.

this is the kind of shit that I’ve been getting on a daily basis - Marcus texted.

August chuckled to himself, responding with the upside down smiling emoji. The fact that Marcus knew what the links and photos contained but he kept opening them and looking at them as soon as he received them was perhaps an indicator that he had lied and he was in fact still interested. Either that or he was a masochist.

But August felt reassured; between classmates sneaking pictures of the prince and his boyfriend and posting them on public social media accounts, and random people sending said posts to Simon’s ex to get him riled up, something was bound to happen.

He figured that, if Wilhelm and Simon just broke things off, on their own, if their whole thing just crumbled naturally, like he expected it to do soon, perhaps that was it, that was all that was needed for the whole house of cards to fall apart. Because between the Royal Court having to deal with all of it, and Wilhelm himself losing interest in the battle, perhaps August would be the only one left standing. Perhaps he’d just go back to being the most viable option for the next in line. 

And all he had to do was stand by and watch.

He smiled, although his head still throbbed, although he was ravenous with hunger, although he felt like he hadn’t slept in years. He smiled to himself.  

Something in the back of his mind made him feel a bit remorseful. 

He also felt a bit lighter, better than he had felt the past couple of weeks.

Whether it would work, he had no idea, but he had to try, and soon. 

He was willing to try anything.

At this point, he had nothing to lose.

Notes:

I think August is the perfect example of a young man who would really benefit from therapy but refuses to go. Admitting that he has emotional problems would be ‘weak’.
Also I wish we knew more about his relationship with Erik. I hope we get to see more of Erik, both from Wille’s and August’s perspectives.
I’m not saying that Erik was perfect, but I think August also has a very skewed view of what Erik represented, of the role that Erik played in his life and what he taught him, and about how to be a leader and gain the trust of his peers.
And I’m not saying that Marcus is as bad as August, but I bet he might think he did nothing wrong, that he was the jilted one, that Wilhelm ruined their “relationship”, and that Simon is just an attention-seeking drama queen. Beyond gaslighting Simon into staying with him by making him think that he was likely to “ruin something beautiful” just because “he’s never had healthy role models”, my problem with Marcus is that he fucking lied about not watching the video (their mums are friends, for fuck’s sake, he hung out with Sara, of course he knew about Simon, but he clearly only approached him after the video went viral and he liked what he saw and he saw an opportunity to get with the local celebrity; not to mention that the very first time they interact, Marcus is invading Simon’s private space without permission), and about wanting to take things slow (but then going ahead and kissing Simon in front of everyone in his school twice, because he wanted to make it clear that they were together, he wanted everyone to see, even though he didn’t know if Simon was comfortable with doing that in front of his classmates, and then ignoring all the hints that Simon was sending about not being that into him, and trying to take things further without even discussing it…) FUCK. THAT. GUY.

Chapter 19: Homesick

Summary:

Simon officially becomes a boarder. He’s still conflicted about it, about many things.
Simon POV, part 1 of 2.

Notes:

I apologize for the massive delay on this chapter, but as you can see, this chapter was turning out so massive that I eventually had to admit defeat and split it into two, much like a previous Wilhelm chapter.
I’ve also been dealing with a lot of mental health issues, and I had to take several breaks from writing, and it took me much longer to get back into it every time I did.
But I am feeling better, and I hope that I can deliver part two as soon as possible. It’s really just editing at this point.
TW: mentions of PTSD, little bit of verbal abuse.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Simon’s room wasn’t usually such a mess.

An empty suitcase lay open on his bed, surrounded by piles of unfolded clothes. The rest of them seemed to be spilling out of the closet. He never thought he had that many clothes, considering he owned three pairs of jeans and the same amount of pairs of shoes, but when it was all out on the bed and the floor, bottoms and shirts and underwear and outerwear and pijamas and miscellaneous items, it turned out to be a lot more than he expected. 

And Simon just stood there, staring at it. 

“No estarías así si hubieses empacado anoche como te dije,” (“You wouldn’t be like this if you had packed last night like I told you,”) Linda said when she came in to check his progress and realized he’d done nothing. She rolled her eyes and began folding trousers.

“I know,” he groaned. A bit less methodical, he simply upended the basket with all his socks into the empty suitcase.

He had put off packing long enough that it was now Sunday afternoon, and they were supposed to be back earlier at Forest Ridge, as per Minou’s instructions. After the letter came in on Friday morning announcing (as expected) that he got the grant for board and room and a spot at Forest Ridge, Minou had briefed Linda and Simon on the arrangements that the Royal Court made and the things that Simon would need, and the details of the proper reception they’d be giving Simon, despite Simon’s and Wilhelm’s insistences that it was unnecessary. 

Which meant that Simon was to be packed and ready to go in an hour, to be at Forest Ridge at six o’clock, be greeted by Göran and the prefect and be given a tour of the house, despite the fact that he had already been living there for two weeks. 

Just formalities. 

But it wasn’t just the formalities, it felt like the Royal Court was getting one step closer to taking over his life.

Was there a point in packing at all? What was he supposed to take with him, when the RC was planning to replace his wardrobe and tell him what to wear?

Maybe he was still a little bit stubborn about it. 

Maybe he was still a whole lot tense, too. 

After the discussion he and Wilhelm had on Tuesday night, and about his own realization on Wednesday morning, everything had been going too well, perhaps, so of course something needed to happen. 

Once he made an appointment with Boris for the next day, he still felt nervous, but also a bit relieved, lighter even. They did well in the fencing tryouts later that day, and he immediately called Linda to let her know the good news, whilst Wilhelm called Minou, who was to report it to the Queen or something. They went to the picnic area by the lake to have what Wilhelm referred to as “privacy in public”, and not even getting caught in a rainstorm could dampen their mood. They had to be rescued by Malin and Joakim on their dash back to Forest Ridge and, even though they were freezing to the bone, Simon felt euphoric. When they got back to their room and stripped naked and got into bed for warmth, he he roped Wilhelm into a steamy make out session to “work up some heat”, got a bit carried away and nearly missed dinner. 

Simon had let himself think for a moment that things might be looking up.

Until they returned to their room after dinner. 

Waiting for them were two identical large shopping bags, one on each bed. 

“It’s from Minou,” Wilhelm said, reading the note. Simon chuckled, taking off his shoes.

“What is she delivering at night, that we don’t already have in abundance at the bottom of my wardrobe?” Simon joked, referring to the box of condoms and lube they had received the day before. 

Wilhelm feigned horror before looking through his own bag. Then his face went quickly from confusion to realization to dismay.

“It’s, um… it’s a fencing uniform and equipment,” he said, looking hesitant as he eyed the identical bag on Simon’s bed.

“What?” Simon said, staring into the bag. There two folded white items of clothing, two shoeboxes, and other items in smaller bags. All brand new, all in his size. He stared dumbly at them, perplexed. 

“But… why did I get one too? I didn’t ask for this,” he finally choked out.

Wilhelm shook his head slowly. “I… don’t know.”

“Did you ask for yours? Did you ask for them to get me one too?”

“No,” Wilhelm replied, sounding a bit uncertain. “I just called Minou to let her know that we’d done well on the tryouts, and that we’d continue with fencing. She… might have mentioned that they’d be sending me what I needed, but… she didn’t mention you, or… at least I don’t think she did.”

Simon stared blankly at him. His mind raced. It had only been a few hours, how the fuck…?

“Can you call her? Can you call Minou?” He asked before he had even thought about it, like his voice just escaped his lips. Wilhelm looked a bit like he was going to be ill.

“What for?” He asked in a small voice.

“To ask her why they got me one, and how they knew my sizes, and why they didn’t ask me.”

They were the RC. Because of course it was not just Minou, it was them

Wilhelm hesitated before pulling out his phone and making the call. Simon waited beside the bag on his bed, arms crossed. 

“Hey Minou,” Wilhelm started. Simon could just hear a female voice on the other end of the line. “Yes, yes, we did. Um, no, it’s just… we wanted to know why you got one for Simon and how you knew his sizes. He didn’t request one, we didn’t ask-… oh, okay… but-…” There was a long moment where Minou’s voice rattled on. Wilhelm listened, a thumbnail between his teeth. “I see… next week? And it’s gonna be you? Okay, yes, please, um… yeah…” 

Simon watched him unblinking, as if Wilhelm might disappear if he lost sight of him even for a second. Wilhelm glanced at him before looking down at the floor again.

“Okay… okay… yeah… okay, thanks, Minou.” He shut off the call. 

“What did she say?”

Wilhelm sat down on his bed and took a deep breath, as if he were bracing himself. 

“She said that, after I called her to let her know we’d continue with fencing, that she discussed it with the RC and they decided that they would provide the uniform and equipment for you too,” he began, his words careful. “Minou called your mum, to let her know that, if it wasn’t within her means to purchase all the things that you would need, that they could do it for her, and all they needed was your sizes. And your mum agreed.”

Even before he had finished, Simon already knew. What he didn’t know was how to describe what he was feeling.

He pulled out his own phone and called his mum. Wilhelm looked like he was about to protest, but Simon turned away from him, staring into the corner of the window. 

“Hola, mi amor,” (Hi, my love,”) Linda said as soon as she answered.

“Mamá, ¿tú le dijiste a Minou que me comprara un uniforme de esgrima?” (“Mum, did you tell Minou to buy me a fencing uniform?”) He started without saying hi. He went right into Spanish because he didn’t want Wilhelm to understand what he was saying. Also it was easier sometimes to talk to Linda in Spanish. Especially when he was mad.  

Linda sounded taken aback. “Bueno, pues, sí, ella se ofreció, dijo que ellos podían comprarlo con el mismo dinero que usan para comprar la ropa de Wille, y que no era ningún problema. Y solo me pidieron tus tallas.” (“Well, yes, she offered, she said that they could buy everything with the same money that they use to buy Wille’s clothing, and that it was no problem. And all they asked for was your sizes.”)

“¿Pero por qué?” (“But why?”) he retorted, outraged. “Tú sabes que yo no quiero que ellos me estén patrocinando nada. Por eso dije que si no me dan la beca para vivir en Forest Ridge, que no aceptaría que ellos me pagaran mi alojamiento y punto. Y eso va por todo lo demás. Yo no puedo estar aceptando todo lo que me den o me ofrezcan, no puedo, no podemos, eso es como dejarles que controlen mi vida. Así empieza.” (“You know that I don’t want them sponsoring anything. That’s why I said that if I didn’t get the grant to live at Forest Ridge, that I wouldn’t accept them to pay for my room and board and that’s it. That goes for everything else. I can’t accept whatever they offer, I can’t, we can’t, it’s like letting them take control of my life. That’s how it starts.”)

“Por favor, Simon, no exageres.” (“Please, Simon, don’t exaggerate.)

“¡No, mamá! ¡Eso es así!” (“No, mum! It is like that!”)

“Mira, Simon, entiendo lo que dices, pero a caballo regalado no se le mira los dientes, como decía tu abuela, y yo entiendo que estés molesto, pero así son las cosas. Yo no pensé nada malo al respecto, porque yo quiero que tú puedas practicar el deporte que tú quieras, y si fuera por mí, no podrías, mi amor, porque esas cosas cuestan dinero y-” (“Look, Simon, I understand what you’re saying, but you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, like your grandmother used to say, and I understand that you’re upset, but that is how things are. I didn’t think anything bad about it, because I want you to be able to practice whatever sport you want, and if it were up to me, you wouldn’t be able to, my love, because those things cost money and-”)

“Pero me debiste consultar de todas formas, mamá.” (“But you should have asked me first anyway, mum.”)

“Yo sé, mi amor, pero estaba enredada, y la verdad es que no lo pensé-” (“I know, my love, but I was busy, and the truth is that I didn’t think-”)

“No podemos simplemente dejar que ellos tomen las decisiones por nosotros, por mí. No quiero deberles nada más. No es lo correcto, no es lo que yo quiero, no quiero que se metan en mi vida de esa forma, y no puedes dejarles.” (“We can’t simply let them make decisions for us, for me. I don’t want to owe them anything more. It’s not right, it’s not what I want, I don’t want them butting into my life that way, and you can’t let them either.”)

“Eso no es lo que estoy haciendo, Simon. Simplemente en esta ocasión-” (“That’s not what I’m doing, Simon. It’s just that in this case-”)

“¡No, no! ¡En ninguna ocasión! ¡Tú no puedes-” (“No, no! In no case! You can’t-”)

“SIMON, DEJA DE INTERRUMPIRME.” (“SIMON, STOP INTERRUPTING ME.”)

Simon stopped mid-sentence, hearing the anger and impatience in his mother’s voice. She rarely raised her voice to him like that, he rarely gave her a reason to. 

He stood there, horrified at his own spiel. Had he really just been shouting and interrumpting his mother?  

He heard Linda sigh and start speaking calmly.

“Mira, yo entiendo tu frustración, yo entiendo lo que estás diciendo, y estoy de acuerdo. Tú sabes muy bien que yo estoy de tu lado. Y sí, debí consultarte, y lamento no haberlo hecho, pero… mi amor, es solo un uniforme de deporte, y es-” (“Look, I understand your frustration, I understand what you’re saying, and I agree with you. You know very well that I am on your side. And yes, I should have talked to you first, and I’m sorry that I didn’t, but… my love, it’s just a sport uniform, and it’s-”)

Simon frowned. “Perdona por interrumpirte de nuevo, pero no es solo un uniforme de deporte. Es todo, ¿okay?” (“I’m sorry for interrupting you again, but it’s not just a sport uniform. It’s everything, okay?”) He rubbed his face, angry and frustrated. If he kept talking, he would say some things that he would really regret. “Ya no importa. Hablamos después. Adiós.” (“It doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll later. Bye.”)

“Simon-”

Simon ended the call. 

He turned around again. Wilhelm sat still, eyes downcast, like a scolded child.

“You know I’m not accepting this, right?” Simon said, gesturing to the bag.

“But…” Wilhelm started, like he was thinking hard what to say next. “It’s… already here. You’re just not going to use it?”

“It’s not mine.”

“But it’s… it’s a gift.”

“I don’t want it.”

Wilhelm bit his lip, like he was trying to keep from saying ‘but’ again.

“Minou was just doing her job, I guess she just-”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Her job? What kind of a job is that? Getting us a ridiculously stacked box of condoms and lube and sending a uniform and equipment that I didn’t even request, just a few hours after we decided to continue with fencing? What the fuck?”

Wilhelm’s eyes were downcast. 

“You don’t have to yell at me.”

Simon sighed, frustrated. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

He scratched the back of his head, a bit agitated. He couldn’t stay still. He thought about calling his mother back, but then what? Yell at her some more? Why did he feel like he was buzzing, like he’d had too much caffeine, when he’d had none?

“I guess this isn’t the ideal moment to tell you,” Wilhelm started, his voice still soft and low, “but Minou also said that she’s coming around next week, with the tailor, to fit our uniforms. Again. Well, mine, again. I don’t know why, I got it fitted about three weeks ago for the jubilee… but the tailor is going to fit yours.”

Simon let out a breathy laugh, and a resigned scoff. “Fine, I guess.”

“And… she’s also coming with a personal shopper… for you.”

Simon blinked, again very confused. “A personal shopper,” he repeated slowly, like the words made no sense.

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck for? Why do I need a personal shopper?” He seethed. 

“She said… they wanted to show you some clothes, see how they fit, and get you a capsule wardrobe,” Wilhelm said slowly. It felt like he was speaking a different language. Simon wanted to claw at his own face. 

“What the fuck is a capsule wardrobe?”

Wilhelm didn’t answer. He looked at the wall behind Simon and let out a soft sigh. 

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question. Seriously, what the fuck is it and why do I need one?” Simon demanded. 

Wilhelm started giving a slow shake of his head.

“I’m not answering until you stop yelling,” he said in a small voice. 

Simon froze. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just…” he trailed off.

“I understand that you’re upset-” 

“No! No, you don’t!” Simon exploded. “You just… you don’t understand, because why would you? You’ve never had to worry about these things, have you? Clothes just magically appear in your wardrobe, a brand new fencing uniform and all the equipment and even two pairs of shoes in case one of them doesn’t fit or something, just shows up in your room, and you have no idea how much anything costs, or how it was made, and how it was selected and how it made its way to your room. You don’t care, you don’t have to care, but I care. Okay? My whole life I’ve had to care. I don’t get to not care.”

He was yelling again. He had just apologized about yelling, and yet he was doing it again. 

“It’s not that I don’t care…” Wilhelm countered, fingernails scratching at his cuticles. “It’s… it doesn’t matter if I know those things… I’m still… I’m not… I’m not allowed to shop for myself.”

He looked a bit embarrassed, like the day that he had excitedly first introduced himself to Simon, and only a moment later he had to admit that he wasn’t allowed to talk about politics.

Simon didn’t know what to say. He started going through the bag, at each item. There was a pair of breeches, a jacket, a plastron, and two pairs of gloves, two pairs of socks, and the two shoes in two different sizes, both white with the Nike logo in copper. Did they intend for him to try them on and return the ones that didn’t fit, or did they buy a pair in the next size for when he outgrew the first? 

“How did they… why…? Just…” He muttered to himself, huffing as he put everything back in the bag. All the tags had been removed. The shoeboxes stickers had been removed too. Nothing had a price tag, he had no idea how much the Royal Court had spent on him. 

“Do you have any idea how expensive all of this probably is?” He said to Wilhelm. 

Wilhelm was silent, watching Simon, like he didn’t know what to say, or like he worried about saying the wrong thing. 

Simon shook his head. 

“Wille, I can’t… I can’t accept it.” 

“Okay…”

“You understand why, right?”

“I do, I understand, but…” he started, very carefully, “you just said… it probably costs a lot of money…” 

“I know. It doesn’t matter, I can’t accept it.”

“But… how are you going to…” Wilhelm trailed off. Simon knew what he meant.

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll figure it out, like I was going to have to anyway.”

There was a silence, before Wilhelm took a deep breath. 

“But it’s just a-”

“Don’t you fucking say ‘it’s just a uniform’, it’s not just a fucking uniform. It’s the principle of the whole thing. I said I didn’t want them taking over my life, you told me not to let them take over my life, but this feels precisely like the beginning of that. But you don’t get it. That’s not how it works for me. That’s not just how it works for most people.”

Wilhelm looked like he had been slapped. There was a redness rising up his neck. 

Simon knew that if he kept talking he’d just say more harsh things. So he started pulling on his shoes.

“Where are you going?” 

“I don’t know. Just don’t follow me,” Simon retorted, not even bothering to tie his shoelaces.

“Can we just talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he said, walking to the door.

“Simon-”

“Don’t follow me!”

Before he closed the door, he glanced at Wilhelm. He had seen that expression before.

You’re the one who can’t accept me, who I am, my family.

No, maybe I can’t…

You’re exactly like them! You’re exactly like your mum!

Before he could backtrack, guided by the momentum, Simon closed the door and hurried down the hallway, to the main door. Walter started greeting him as he came closer, but Simon just breezed past him. He pushed through the door and walked out into the cold night air. 

He forgot his coat in the room. 

It was even colder than he expected, since it had rained most of the afternoon. But he couldn’t go back now. He needed to blow off some steam or something. He walked fast to keep warm, not really thinking of where he was going.

“Hey bro!” Rosh and Ayub’s voices greeted him as soon as they answered the three-way call. Simon had stopped long enough to make the choice to call them, to vent, to talk to someone, to distract himself from the cold. 

“Hey,” he said, forcing a smile, even though they couldn’t see him. He couldn’t put them on speaker, in case someone was around and could overhear their conversation. Although it was so cold that there wouldn’t be anyone around, but he would rather not risk it. 

“What’s up? To what do we owe this honor?” Rosh said in her over-the-top posh voice.

“Hey, when you’re a boarder, you’ll have to find a way to bring your computer and carry it back and forth or whatever. Or are we just never going to have a online gaming session ever again during the week?” Ayub asked. 

“I don’t know if I want to be a boarder anymore,” Simon answered.

“What?” Ayub asked. 

“Yay! I mean, why?” Rosh said, faking concern.

“Guys, you’re not gonna believe this.”

“Oh, shit, what did Wille do now?” Rosh asked. 

“Nothing. Well, technically nothing, but… ugh, listen.”

He told them about the tryouts and coming back to the room to find brand new uniforms, and about what Minou said, and about the personal shopper and the tailor, and about what his mum said, and about what Wilhelm said…

And as he spoke he realized how ridiculous it all sounded, and he blushed, suddenly embarrassed about the outrage in his voice. He could almost hear his friends’ confused expressions over the phone. 

“Wow, bro, that’s messed up,” Ayub said, but he sounded like he was reading a script. “I mean, yeah, they should have asked you first.”

“It’s not just that,” Simon retorted, suddenly bolstered again. “They just expect me to go with it, even though I’ve said that I don’t want their special treatment, and they don’t seem to pay attention. They just do whatever they want. They just do stuff and act like that’s normal.”

“Wait, what else did they do?” Rosh asked. 

“It just feels like this is the beginning of it, this is how it starts. It’s everything, it’s the medical checkup and the doctor’s appointment and the sex talk, and… did I tell you guys about the box?” 

“What box?”

He had already told them the previous weekend about the medical appointment, prior to it, and they teased him (and Wilhelm) about it mercilessly. But he hadn’t told them yet about what happened after that, or about the box lying at the bottom of his wardrobe. His face grew hot as he explained the contents, while Ayub and Rosh literally sounded like they fell off their respective seats and devolved into silent hysterics in perfect synchronization.

“I’m glad you guys find this funny,” he groaned.

“Ahem, you mean… ahem,” Rosh finally said when she recovered her breath, “that the RC are generously sponsoring you guys having anal sex?”

“I- shut up!”

“What happens when you use up the box? Do you call and say ‘Mina, we need more lube and condoms, we ran out’, ‘What? You ran out? It’s only been three days!’, ‘Yeah, well, you also gave us a guidebook on positions, and we tried them all’, ‘Okay fine’, and then they send you a new box?” Ayub asked jokingly. Simon glared at nothing.

“Ayub, what in the… and her name is Minou, not Mina.”

“Minou, the royal lube dealer,” Rosh said in her fake posh voice.

“Guys!”

“Will she take notes on how fast you go through your supplies, so they can restock you accordingly?” Ayub added.

“Shut up!”

“Sorry, what was this about?” Rosh asked. 

“It’s just… they don’t get it, do they? This is not normal, this is not how things work. I told them from the beginning that I didn’t want special favors, I don’t want them buying me things, I’m not accepting any of it, and they do what they want.”

There was silence on the line.

“But… don’t you need the uniform?” Ayub asked finally.

“Yes, but I could have gotten it myself. I don’t need them to do these things for me, like it’s no big deal, because it is a big deal. It’s the RC deciding where the funds come from for something like that. And wherever it comes from, it feels like charity, and I don’t need their charity. I’m not a fucking Cinderella case and I’m not a fucking parasite. And I can’t believe my mum just went with it, and Wille doesn’t get it either, because why would he, he doesn’t think it should be a big deal, and that otherwise my mum won’t be able to afford my uniform. But we’ve done it so far, we’ve managed, we always have, and I’d much rather help her get the money to afford it the regular way, than to just accept a gift. It sets a precedent, I don’t want them to think that they can just give me stuff like this.”

For a moment he feared that he wasn’t making sense. He had a point, but maybe he wasn’t getting it across so well, because he was still furious and very cold and a bit tired. 

“What did Wille say when you told him that you didn’t want it?” Rosh asked.

“He said okay, but he also said ‘it’s just a uniform’,” Simon said, emphasizing the last part with a scoff. 

There was another, longer silence, and he checked the screen to make sure that the call was still ongoing and his phone hadn’t suddenly run out of battery. 

Ayub cleared his throat. “Well, then… return the gift.”

“It’s not a gift.”

“You just called it a gift!”

“Well, it’s not…”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s-… I don’t know. It’s something that I didn’t need them to get for me, but they did anyway without my consent.”

“Like the condom and lube box, which you do need, for sexy tiiiimes,” Ayub said. 

“I don’t need them! The RC, I mean. I don’t need them manipulating me into accepting expensive stuff.”

Rosh cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

“Simon, listen… normally I would agree with you, because, you know, fuck the RC. However… and I’m only going to say this once, and you better not fucking tell him that I said it, but… I agree with Wille.”

“Whoa, hang on, let me record this!” Ayub exclaimed.

“Fuck off!” Rosh shouted.

Simon scoffed. “You… agree with him… Why?” 

“Because… it is just a uniform. Listen, I know! I know!” She continued before he could interrupt her and protest. “I know… I know everything it represents, and I’m aware of what it means, but at the same time… you can’t just ask your mum to buy you a uniform, you just said it’s super expensive, and even if you saved up, it would take too long, and you need it right now, and she can’t afford it right now. But they can. Just take it. Who gives a fuck? I know that you do, and I understand why, but you’re not a terrible person for accepting something from the RC, and you’re not a parasite just because you get one thing. Just like you’re not a class traitor for being with a prince. You didn’t fall in love with him because he’s a prince, right? You love him in spite of that, in spite of all those things. But you’re never going to be able to convince people of that, I guess. People are going to believe whatever they want, so… you might as well not give a fuck from the start.”

“Yeah, bro, don’t get so hung up on it, it’s not worth it,” Ayub said.

Simon paced back and forth between two trees. Somehow Rosh had figured it out, what he was really worried about. He worried what people would say. He’d had his share of that since the fucking video, and he knew what people thought of him. 

“It’s not just the uniform, is it? That’s just the first, but the personal shopper and the tailor, and… whatever else they’ll come up with eventually… it’s too much.”

“It’s not, is it? They’re already doing things for you, with the application, and driving you both home, and the bodyguards outside your house… To me the uniform and the tailor and the shopper is just another thing. You’re already getting special treatment, it’s not like the uniform is extra extra special treatment.”

“That is unless, of course, they’re doing all of it to keep you happy so you don’t reveal to the whole world that you know that they covered up what August did,” Ayub quipped. 

“Nah, they know that Simon wouldn’t let himself be manipulated like that, and he wouldn’t do that because he knows it would be pointless and screw everything up,” Rosh said. 

Simon shook his head. “That doesn’t mean that they get to take over my life.”

“It doesn’t, no. You wouldn’t let them. It’s just clothes, it’s not them actually deciding for you. You still get to decide for yourself, wear the clothes, don’t wear the clothes, they can’t force you beyond that. But still… you knew this was going to happen. I mean, you’re gonna have to give in a little eventually. What happens if you guys get married and you become Prince Simon and you live at the palace and they feed you and clothe you? That’s his life, isn’t it? It will be yours too.”

Any other time, Simon would have laughed at Rosh calling him ‘Prince Simon’ without a hint of irony. But right now she was being serious, and making a lot of sense.

“And are you gonna fight them your whole life about stuff like clothes? I think you have more important battles to choose, so whether they let you wear your shredded jeans or your secondhand Vans is a tiny issue in comparison. Otherwise you’re going to be fighting all the time. And I bet you don’t want that.”

He kicked at the dirt under his feet, defeated, as Rosh continued making sense.

“If you plan to stay with Wille, if you really love him, then you’re just going to have to learn to put up with certain stuff. That’s just how it is, right? I mean, I’m no expert in relationships, but I’m guessing that both parts give in a little every once in a while. It’s balance.”

“Yeah bro, and you’ve both been through a lot, and things are probably going to keep happening anyway, so don’t let something like this get in the way,” Ayub stated. 

Simon closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. He felt like such an asshole. He shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it, it wasn’t worth it. These things were out of Wilhelm’s control, and he shouldn’t take it out on him.

“You’re right,” he finally said, voice trembling from the cold. “I’m sorry, guys.”

“Hey, no, man, we’re still here for you, you know? Whenever you need us. Even if it’s just to vent about how your boyfriend’s family got you an expensive gift, like ugh, why do they do that, so annoying,” Ayub joked. 

Simon wanted to slap himself, and just laughed. “Stop, I already feel so dumb.”

“Nah, you’re not dumb. I mean, I get it. This is all very strange and new, and of course it makes you uncomfortable. They have to understand that you’re not going to agree with everything, because you’re not like that. Just don’t get too worked up about it, otherwise you’re just going to be angry forever,” Rosh replied in a sympathetic tone.

“And you’ll get used to it, you’ll learn to deal with it, get better at choosing your battles. And hey, if you don’t like any of the fancy clothes they try to force you to wear, you can always dump them on me. Too bad half of them won’t fit me, because you’re a skinny little bitch,” Ayub added.

“Hmm, they might fit me, though. And we’re still the same shoe size, right? I could do with some fancy footwear,” Rosh said.

“Guys, stop,” Simon laughed. “Thank you for letting me vent, though.”

“No worries. And seriously, good job standing up for your principles. Just don’t let it drive a wedge between you and Wille. Like Ayub said, you’ve both put up with enough shit, and I’m sure he’s on your side too. He’s not so bad. Again don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t,” Simon said, knowing he totally would.

“And if you get a pair of Air Jordans out of it, well boohoo,” Rosh added.

“Stooooop!”

“I like the white, blue and grey ones!”

“Good night, guys!”

“See you on the weekend!”

“Night, Simme!” Ayub shouted. 

The call disconnected. Simon stuffed his phone in his pocket and started back toward the Forest Ridge building. He was freezing. 

To his surprise, Wilhelm was standing at the door, looking around. He was wearing his coat, and he had Simon’s puffer jacket in his arms.

“Hey,” Simon said. In the dim light of the building entrance, Wilhelm’s worried face relaxed into relief at the sight of him. 

“Oh, hi.” His voice sounded deeper, huskier.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I was deciding whether to look for you, or just… give you space. But then I noticed that you left your jacket.” He held it out toward him. Simon grabbed it and laughed a bit.

“Yeah, I’m an idiot,” he said, pulling it on. 

“We already got caught in the rain today and it was bad, you can’t keep exposing yourself to the weather like this,” Wilhelm said, voice thick. 

Simon nodded, and stepped closer toward Wilhelm, tentative, until he was pressed against him, feeling his arms wrap around him. He shivered and buried his face into the warmth of Wilhelm’s neck.

“Thank you.”

“You’re so cold.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Wilhelm nuzzled Simon’s temple with his nose, which was cold too. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Simon groaned.

“No, don’t say it, don’t say sorry.”

“But I’m really sorry.”

“No, stop.”

“I didn’t mean to be so-”

“Stop,” Simon pulled back, looking into Wilhelm’s face. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have gotten so mad, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“I’m still sorry… if what I said hurt your feelings- I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t… I was just…” Simon rubbed his face tiredly and sighed, “Ugh… I was being an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have-… I know that you’re trying…”

“No, you’re right, I don’t… I don’t get it… I’m not trying hard enough…” he said, voice still thick. And at that moment, Simon realized in the dim light that Wilhelm’s eyes were a little red, like he might have been crying. 

He made his boyfriend cry. He was such a jerk. 

He’d never be lenient with a privileged person not getting their privilege, he’d never be so gentle. But this was Wilhelm, and Wilhelm loved him, and Wilhelm was on his side. 

“No, you’re fine,” Simon said. “You can’t know what you don’t know, until you just… do.”

“I guess… ”

“It’s just… it’s obvious that I can’t afford these things, and… some people will see me and assume things like… like I’m living the life or some bullshit, and… call me a class traitor, or a parasite, or a… fucking Cinderella story…”

Wilhelm nodded, looking glum. “I know, and it’s not fair. But… I really thought you didn’t care about that, what people said.”

“I thought so too. I guess it does bother me a bit… it’s hurtful.”

“I wish I knew how to fix it.”

“I don’t expect you to know how to fix it. I don’t expect you to fix anything,” he gave a resigned shrug. “And Rosh and Ayub are right, people are gonna say things and assume things, no matter what I do, so I might as well accept that and just not let it bother me. It’s just… hard.”

Wilhelm sniffled a little. “But you don’t have to deal with it on your own.”

Simon smiled and reached up to peck Wilhelm on the lips. If anyone saw, he didn’t care. Wilhelm allowed himself a little smile. 

“Let’s go inside, please, I’m freezing,” Simon said, wrapping an arm around Wilhelm’s waist and tugging him inside. ”Now, seriously, what is a capsule wardrobe?”

Wilhelm rolled his eyes and gave a chortle, and tried to explain it on their way back to their room, but he admitted to not being quite sure how it worked because Simon was right, clothes just showed up and he just wore them.

“But they don’t tell you what to wear, do they? They don’t tell you how to mix and match these clothes?” Simon asked, genuinely curious, as they changed into joggers and sweaters and climbed into Wilhelm’s bed to watch a movie. 

“No, I still have to dress myself,” Wilhelm said, and smirked. “Why? Do you think I look good? Or the opposite?”

Simon rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help his warming cheeks. “Of course you always look good.” 

Still smirking, Wilhelm wiggled his eyebrows, making Simon laugh. They ended up talking about their favorite colors (green and orange for Wilhelm, purple and yellow for Simon), and what their favorite item of clothing was (“our purple hoodie”), and whether the RC would make them color coordinate (“if they do, we should definitely fuck with them”), and if the RC would notice if Simon passed on a pair of fancy trainers to Rosh (“once it’s yours, it’s yours to do whatever you want”).

But he wondered if he could keep wearing his usual clothes and perhaps save whatever they brought him for special occasions, and whether he could ask the RC to pick the most inexpensive, un-fancy, most sustainable and most fair-labor clothes, so that at least he wouldn’t feel so bad about it, or if maybe he could even convince them that he would not accept any of it at all, and whether it was worth getting into a whole thing with the RC about it.

He still didn’t want special treatment, he didn’t want them giving them things when he didn’t know where the money for it came from or how much any of it cost. It was the same feeling he got knowing that, at any moment, the letter would arrive granting him the money and space to room at Forest Ridge, like he had earned it, even though he had not done anything. He knew why they wanted him there so badly, and it wasn’t just about his safety and security, but also about the RCs and the school’s image, and about the crown prince not being in a relationship with a boy from Bjärstad who rode the bus every day and wore thrifted clothes. 

It felt fake and wrong. It felt undeserved. 

Perhaps it was his own guilt over the fact that this would not be the first time. He had already tried to earn something he didn’t really deserve, when he asked for private tutoring. As much as he had known it was wrong, to pay his way to better grades, to allow a teacher to set those terms, he had still done it. In fact, he had been so desperate that he had actually gone all the way to do something illegal to get the money for it. 

And for what? He would never get ahead, he was always going to be ten, twenty, thirty paces behind…

And now he’d have to deal with that guilt his whole life… 

As he curled into Wilhelm, he went over Rosh and Ayub’s words in his head, and he started feeling better. They were his friends, they knew all these things about him, every wrong decision and every stupid mistake he had made, and they still supported him, they still encouraged him. They were still on his side. 

You’re not a terrible person… you’re not a parasite…

You didn’t fall in love with him because he’s a prince, right?

That’s his life, isn’t it? It will be yours too…

Don’t let something like this get in the way…

This would be his life, this was what they talked about last night. Marriage and children and dealing with the RC and the public and the media for the rest of their lives, if they stayed together.

You say the word, and I’ll give it all up…

He didn’t want Wilhelm to have to give it all up, change his whole life just for him. He didn’t want everything to change just because of him. 

He’d learn to deal with it. He’d find a way to adjust. As long as they could be together, as long as they stood a chance. 

He tried to visualize it, tried to picture himself in any scenario being happy despite all of it…

He tried…

With a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, he realized that he couldn’t picture himself at all. He had been having trouble visualizing their life together, even as they had been talking about it last night. It was like his mind’s eye was out of focus. Like everything was… blurry.

He didn’t know why, or what to do about that.

As the movie started, he glanced at the shopping bag sitting at the foot of his bed. He hadn’t quite made up his mind yet about what he would do about the uniform yet. He guessed he’d figure it out in the morning, once he had slept on it, and he could think clearly about it. 

What he did know now was that he had to call his mum first thing in the morning and apologize profusely. 

On Thursday, before lunch, he was sat across from Boris in his little office, feeling sweaty and restless.

This wasn’t his first time going to therapy or counseling; at his old school, he had been prompted to see the school counselor to talk about being bullied when he came out, his parents’ divorce, his family, his father’s vices and abuse and how it affected him. 

The counselor had done most of the talking, because Simon was very good at opening up.

He was, instead, very good at putting up walls.

It was how he dealt with things, not let things affect him, be in control. In retrospect, he should have been more proactive; the counselor was there to help him, ask him questions, check on him, make sure he could work through things. 

But how does one open up to a stranger? How could he talk about private things, things he had never talked about with anyone before?

He had to do it now, though. If he didn’t… It was already affecting him, it was beyond his control.

And no amount of walls was going to fix that. 

“What are you hoping to get from our session today, and in the future?” Boris asked gently, once they got the introductions part done with, and once he had made tea and put a steaming cup on the table beside Simon, next to the Sternhalma board. Simon didn’t pick it up, it looked too hot.

He shifted in his seat; he always had problems sitting still in situations like this.

“I don’t really know.”

“Is there anything bothering you right now? Anything you would like to talk about?”

Simon took a deep breath. “I haven’t been sleeping well… I feel pretty sick, a lot of the time, and just… tense, and anxious. And… lonely.” 

That last part had just come out of his lips. 

“I see. And is there anything in particular that you think might be causing this tension and anxiety and feeling of loneliness?”

Simon shrugged. “Well, the loneliness probably comes from having to move out of my house to come live here.”

Boris nodded. “You didn’t want that.”

“Yes and no… I understand why I had to, but… I don’t like it here much, I don’t feel… comfortable.” Simon scratched the crook of his arm. “But being at home was… it’s a bit tense right now, and it helps to have some distance, but… I guess I feel a bit homesick. Which is silly, because I still get to go back home every weekend, and it’s only minutes away, but still…”

“Why do you think it’s silly?” Boris asked, peering at Simon over the top of his glasses. Simon shrugged again.

“Because… it’s not a big deal. Everyone here has moved away home, away from their families, I should be able to do the same.” He shook his head. “I guess I just wasn’t prepared for it, and for… everything else that came with it.”

“That makes sense. Change is difficult, no matter what. Adjusting takes time, more or less depending on how drastic the change is, and on what else you’re dealing with. And it’s different for each person. So if you feel that it’s taking you longer, compared to others, that’s just how it might be for you.”

Simon thought about it. “Okay, well, I’m also tense because of… well… everything. I mean, do I have to tell you? It’s pretty obvious. I’m sure you already know. Everybody does,” he added sourly.

Boris leaned back, hands over the top of his belly, fingertips touching. “Yes, I’m familiar with what you’ve been going through, or at least what we’ve been able to see. But that’s only the surface. What you’re actually dealing with can be much deeper, and probably most people can’t even imagine it.”

“Yeah,” Simon agreed. His chest tightened. 

“Anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Um, well… where do I even start?”

“Wherever and however you feel most comfortable. It’s up to you.”

Simon hesitated before taking a deep breath. “Well, it started last year…”

He gave as concise as possible retelling of how he got into Hillerska, knowing how other students felt about him because of his class and ethnicity and being gay; he was an outspoken socialist and unimpressed by the wealth and status of his classmates, and he didn’t care about fitting in. He was there to get a good education, sing in the choir, and hopefully get good opportunities in the future, and for his sister Sara to get to ride horses and be happy and not suffer the bullying she had at their old school.

He just wanted to do his thing, be unbothered and quietly succeed. But he stuck out like a sore thumb. 

And then the prince of Sweden arrived, and for some reason Simon caught his attention. He had never expected anyone to be interested in him, not in that way at least, not at Hillerska, least of all a prince; the one person that everyone else wanted to befriend or hook up with for the clout… and he was only interested Simon.

They were so different, in so many ways, and yet they clicked. But he hadn’t meant to fall for a prince; not only did it contradict everything he stood for, but it was… almost an intangible idea, far beyond his imagination. It was a whole strange other world.

He certainly hadn’t imagined that it would end up with their naked bodies becoming a viral video, plastered all over the Internet.

Tears sprung to his eyes unexpectedly. Even bringing up the video with someone that wasn’t Wilhelm, or his mother, or Rosh and Ayub, made him choke up a bit. For a moment he stopped talking.

Boris leaned forward and pushed a box of tissues across the side table. Simon grabbed one and looked up at him through his blurry eyes. Boris didn’t say anything, a neutral expression on his face.

It took a bit to be able to start talking again, a massive lump in his throat. But he wanted to keep going. He wanted to be able to talk about it with someone else, outside of the people close to him, who didn’t know the full story yet, someone neutral. He wanted to express how he felt at that moment, how he still felt. Maybe if he managed to, he might not feel so haunted by it anymore. 

But he couldn’t without breaking down a little bit. Tears streamed down his face, unchecked, voice trembling, as he recounted the helplessness of seeing that video everywhere, seeing the messages and comments, feeling the world closing in on him. 

At least he had Wilhelm. Until he didn’t. 

He had no idea how much Wilhelm had told Boris about this, but he guessed it didn’t include August being the culprit or his mother forcing him to lie about being in the video. So Simon skipped to the part where it became too difficult for them to be together after the video; until they realized it was even more difficult to see each other every day and have to pretend that they didn’t still care about each other. 

The truth was that he had never felt this way about anyone, and he didn’t know what to do. Neither had Wilhelm. They did strange things, they behaved erratically and impulsively. It was like Simon couldn’t function properly. He was surrounded by constant reminders of the terrible thing, and he couldn’t escape. It wasn’t only the yearning that he felt for Wilhelm, it was everything else too: it was the unfairness of it all, the feeling of defeat, of people treating him different, of realizing all his hard work and ambition were pointless, and of fearing more things happening out of his control.

He only had control over his own actions. He tried to protect himself, be strong and move on, he tried to pretend that he was okay. But he couldn’t control how he felt. 

And he felt so conflicted; on the one hand, he appreciated how Wilhelm gave him space, how he had been willing to let him go, if that was what Simon wanted (and Simon did think that’s what he had wanted), but on the other hand he hoped that Wilhelm would refuse to let him go. 

And on the one hand, he wanted to get over Wilhelm, never have anything to do with him again, it was too complicated, it would never work, their lives were too different, but on the other he didn’t care about any of those things, and nobody could tell him what to do, and their love was more powerful than anything (he had to laugh at his own corniness in that moment).

But also, on the one hand, he was now happy that they had now both found a way to be together, that they had been able to regain some control over their narrative, and that they were learning to communicate and trust each other, and on the other hand he was sure that they would never be able to leave that horrible episode behind completely, that it would always haunt them, that things would always be a little bit, or a lot, complicated, and that he would always be a little bit sad about it, much like Wilhelm had said. And they would always worry about something like that happening again, even if they felt more prepared, emotionally and mentally, to deal with it, they would always be aware that at any moment it could happen again.

And he couldn’t tell Boris about the situation with August and Sara, so it felt like there was still a lot up in the air. 

He was glad that at least they could be together. Even if it meant that there was a lot of extra attention placed on them, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. But as much as he tried to adjust, he was overwhelmed by the many changes, and how fast they happened. And even though he knew that he had Wilhelm’s full support and it comforted him to be able to talk about it with him, and he was sure he’d get used to it, it did feel like a lot sometimes, but he didn’t want Wilhelm to worry about him. Especially when Wilhelm was dealing with a lot of his own issues. 

And he was afraid.

“What are you afraid of?” Boris asked.

“Of… of people taking advantage. Of my, our, privacy being violated again. Of being… betrayed by the people that I care about, and that are supposed to care about me.” His voice shook a little. He finally picked up the cooled cup of tea and took a sip. 

“Has this happened before?”

Simon hesitated.

“Yes,” he said. 

Boris nodded. “I’m so sorry that it has. To be betrayed by someone we trust is very difficult to recover from, even if the person has apologized or tried to correct things. It’s difficult, but it’s not impossible.”

Simon pressed his lips into a thin line. He thought of Sara, and how it felt to hear her confess she had known about August, and how he felt when she told him about the police report. 

He thought about the way that Wilhelm had probably felt when he found out about August. When he found out that his mother knew and kept it from him.

He thought of the way he had felt each time August had dismissed him, belittled him, insulted him, when Simon asked for the money he owed him. 

He thought about how felt when Micke slammed him against the wall, squeezing his face, demanding to know if he was getting high.

He thought of how he felt when Micke had showed up on St. Lucia night, and the way that, even after he had left, Sara and his mother had looked at Simon, with anger and with disappointment respectively. 

And he thought about that night at the stables, before he had known about either of them, before he had know about them, when Sara had lied to his face him when he asked if she and August were friends, and how she had nonchalantly defended him when Simon called him an asshole. 

You’re always saying that we should give second chances… and a third, and a fourth, and a fifth… she had teased him. 

In retrospect, it hurt so much more.

“It feels like I’m always trying to help people, but people are constantly letting me down, walking over me,” he said with a shuddering breath. “Like I don’t matter.”

Knight in shining armor complex, Sara had once called it, referring to the way he always seemed to be rescuing Wilhelm. 

That’s your problem! You’re always trying to help people! First dad, then me, and now Wilhelm… You keep letting people piss on you.

At least I don’t piss on my own family… he had retorted, without even knowing back then how right he had been about her. 

There was a long pause, before Boris finally spoke up.

“How would you feel if you stopped helping people?”

Simon blinked, lips parted in surprise.

“Terrible,” he answered. “Like a bad person.”

“That wouldn’t make you a bad person. From what you’re telling me, it comes naturally to you, to help others, but we all have limitations. The question is, do you put others before yourself when you do?”

Simon bit his lip. “I think I’m learning not to.”

Boris leaned forward in his seat and cocked his head to the side.

“Have you ever seen one of those airplane safety video or the instructions that the flight attendants do before takeoff?”

“Um… yes,” Simon said, a bit confused.

”They always instruct adults to put their oxygen masks on first before they help a child or another person with theirs.”

“Okay?”

“Because you can’t help others before you help yourself.”

Simon blinked. “Oh.”

“It’s good that you’re learning to put yourself first, which is what you’re doing right now, coming here, talking about what’s bothering you. You need to take care of yourself before you take care of others.”

Simon sat with that for a bit, sipping his tea, fingers tapping on the sides of the cup. 

“And how do I know if people are trying to take advantage of me?”

“You learn to tell. You learn to listen to others, but also to express yourself. You can’t always know for sure, you can’t control what others do, but you can decide how far you’re willing to go for someone, depending on what they’re asking, depending on the situation.”

Simon hummed into his cup. Boris took a sip of his own tea before continuing. 

“It’s not a bad thing that your first instinct is to help when you see that someone else needs support, or when someone is in trouble, or when they ask for help directly, but not at the risk of your own well-being, whether it be physical or emotional. Sometimes people have a tendency to rely too much on others, because they know that that person will always come through, and sometimes they don’t have a choice, they can’t do things for themselves, they always need help, they rely on the kindness of others. But you learn to tell when a person genuinely needs help, and when they just don’t want to do the difficult thing themselves, and when they’re just trying to take advantage of another person’s kindness. And it’s up to you to figure out how and when to set boundaries for yourself.”

He gave Simon a small smile. “You’ve already taken the first and most difficult step. You’d be surprised by how many people have such difficulty taking that first step, learning to ask for help. We all need help sometimes. And yet a lot of the time we feel shame or we worry that we’re inconveniencing others, or we don’t want others to worry about us. But asking for help is just as important as giving help.”

Simon nodded, smiling a bit to himself, thinking back to his recent conversations with Wilhelm. 

Maybe they weren’t doing so bad after all.

Simon dropped stuff into the suitcase, whilst Linda continued to scold him gently about forgetting to do laundry, and about how wrinkly his clothes would get if he didn’t fold them properly, and about being a bit rude to Minou when she offered to come by and help with the packing. 

True, he might have been too forceful when he told her that he would rather meet her at Forest Ridge, but he had not quite gotten over his anger toward Minou; he had every right to be angry.

He glanced at the door; Wilhelm had been banished to any part of the house that wasn’t his room. It was one thing to live with his boyfriend for two weeks and dressing and undressing in front of him, it was another thing packing his unmentionables in front of him. 

“Te vas a llevar a Oso?” (“Are you taking Oso with you?) Linda asked, picking up the teddy bear on Simon’s nightstand. ‘Oso’ was what he called it when he was younger. 

“No, I think he’ll stay here,” Simon said, taking it from Linda and placing it now on the corner of the bed. He caught Linda’s worried look. “I’d rather just bring the essentials,” he remarked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s… I’ve been wondering if… maybe you need a bigger bed.”

Simon sighed. This wasn’t the first time she mentioned it, and he had already dismissed her before.

“Mami, a bigger bed would take up more than half the room. This one is fine.”

“Es que yo no entiendo cómo dos chicos caben cómodamente en una camita tan pequeña.” (“I just don’t understand how two boys can fit comfortably in such a small bed.”)

“Sí cabemos, no te preocupes.” (“We do fit, don’t worry.”)

It had been a recurring thing since the first weekend, Linda worrying about Wilhelm coming to their humble little home, with its small spaces and creaky floors and subpar water pressure, no matter how much Wilhelm clearly didn’t care (he was just happy to be there and be useful). Did the Queen know where her son spent his weekends, under what conditions? Did the whole world know? Linda had never cared about these things, much like Simon, but he guessed that it was different when the whole world was watching. And having an opinion about it.

And the whole world was indeed watching and voicing opinions. He had seen posts about it on Twitter and on Instagram posts, people commenting on his house, his status, like it was their business. He had to remind himself of what Rosh and Ayub told him. That people will judge, no matter what. So fuck them. 

“Pero ustedes están creciendo, y esta cama es para una persona. Yo podría ir a IKEA cuando tengan ofertas y buscar una cama un poco más grande y vendemos ésta y-” (“But you’re both growing, and this bed is for one person. I could go to IKEA during a sale and get a bigger bed and we can sell this one and-”)

“Mamá, no es necesario, no te preocupes.” (“Mum, it’s not necessary, don’t worry.”)

“De verdad no sé cómo pueden dormir así, tan acurrucados, cuando estoy segura que los dos son como hornos,” (“I really don’t know how you can sleep like that, so snuggled up, when I’m sure you’re both like ovens,”) she said, making Simon laughed. She wasn’t wrong. Even in the winter, he often slept without a shirt because at some point he always felt too hot and had to remove it anyway. Since sharing a bed with Wilhelm, they rarely kept their underwear on, even when not having sex, because they both gave off heat like two radiators, let alone all wrapped around each other. And yet, Simon was starting to feel like he couldn’t sleep any other way. 

“Mami, de verdad, it’s not a big deal, we’re used to it, we-” he cut himself off and felt the color rising to his face. He was about to say that they slept in the same bed at Hillerska too, despite Wilhelm’s room being a double, with two beds, one for each boy…

Linda cocked an eyebrow at him and gave him a sly smile, amused by how Simon was suddenly very focused on folding a scarf. 

“Ay mi amor, ¿en serio tú crees que yo soy pendeja? ¿Tú crees que yo no sé lo que implica que dos muchachos jóvenes que son novios tengan privacidad?” (“Oh love, do you really think I’m stupid? Do you think that I don’t know what it means for two young boys who are boyfriends to have privacy?”) Linda said, putting an arm around his shoulders and tugging him into a half hug. “You can do whatever you want, as long as you are careful and respectful of each other, and I can’t do anything about the size of the beds at Forest Ridge, but we can do something about it in this house.”

Simon sighed, the blush disappearing slowly. “Mum, I really don’t want you to worry about that. It’s fine. And again, a bigger bed would take up too much space.” 

Linda sighed and continued folding clothes (or rather refolding them, since Simon had barely made an effort before dropping them inside the suitcase), lips in a tight line. Simon watched her.

Even after apologizing repeatedly, over the phone and as soon as he arrived home on Saturday, he still felt bad about what he had said to her on Wednesday. He knew how hard Linda worked to provide for them, how much she tried to give them the things that they wanted and needed, and yet his pride had gotten in the way. For a moment (he admitted to himself with a groan) he had behaved much like Sara.

“It’s not about the size of the bed, is it?” He asked. “It’s everything.”

She shook her head, but didn’t meet his eyes. “No, mi amor, está bien. Ya me acostumbraré,” she reassured him. “I know that moving out is the best choice. And it’s worked so far,” she gestured toward the outside. That weekend no photographers had been spotted outside the house. 

They were still a trending topic, though, and there were new posts about them on social media, all the time. Mostly from Hillerska students who snapped pictures of them at school, in between classes, during fencing practice, etc. Those posts were getting massive attention. It was one thing for kids to stare at them, it was another for them to sneak photos of the two without their knowledge or consent, even when they weren’t doing anything; it’s not like they were kissing or hugging or holding hands or anything. But there was nothing they could do about those, especially when they only found out much later. He guessed the Royal Court would eventually want to do something about it. 

He noticed Linda’s eyes became misted. 

“It’s not like it will be much more different than what it is right now,” he offered.

“I know… it’s just feels more… permanent. And… real,” she said. 

He nodded, putting an arm around her shoulders and planting a kiss on top of her head. 

“We’ll both get used to it,” he said. 

Linda nodded, smiling, and placed the last refolded item of clothing, the orange sweater, on top of the pile inside the suitcase.

“¿Este no es de Wille?” (“Isn’t this one Wille’s?”) she asked. 

Without answering, Simon smirked and zipped the suitcase closed.

Notes:

I wanted to do a parallel to the role that the riding pants played in Sara’s storyline, and the symbolism they held. I keep wondering how it’s going to be in the show, the Royal Court’s relationship to Simon, and Linda. Ugh, where is season 3????
You know that my favorite part to write was Rosh and Ayub. But I also love writing Boris. I keep thinking of a Boris chapter, but I’m not yet sure where I’m going to fit it. But the more I write him, the more I feel like it needs to happen, so it will.
Part 2 of this Simon POV coming soon.

Chapter 20: Homewarming

Summary:

Simon officially becomes a boarder. He’s still conflicted about it, about many things. Simon POV. Part 2 of 2.

Notes:

Brace yourselves, this part is long. Also, warning, it gets so, so, SO corny. But I mean, it’s corn, so can you imagine a more beautiful thing? I feel like Simon could do with a bit more corn in his life. I just want these two being unbearably, tooth-achingly sweet and mushy with each other.
More Boris, of course. I’m really working toward the Boris chapter. I think I know where and when it should go now.
TW: anxiety, mentions of trauma and PTSD.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When Simon and Linda came out of Simon’s room, they found Wilhelm in the kitchen, snooping through the pantry. As soon as he spotted them, he pushed the pantry door closed and stood back, looking like a little child caught redhanded.

“Are you hungry, Wille?” Linda asked. Wilhelm shook his head, cheeks red. 

“Uh, no, no, I was just… looking.”

“Looking for what?” Simon eyed him curiously.

“Just… looking.”

Simon smiled. “Why?”

“No reason…”

But Linda put together something quick for them to eat before they all had to leave very soon; to Wilhelm’s excitement, she made arepas stuffed with chicken, cheese and a homemade guacamole. Still, she lamented not having time to make a special dinner, despite Simon’s reassurances that she didn’t need to make a big deal again, and Wilhelm’s ecstatic expression with every bite of his arepa. 

They hadn’t quite finished when Joakim and Malin were knocking on the door, alerting them that it was almost time to go. Simon walked around gathering his things whilst still chewing, whilst Linda and Wilhelm cleared the table. The boys rushed to brush their teeth and gather their things. 

Linda would drive Simon to the school, so Joakim put Simon’s bags into her car, whilst Malin carried Wilhelm’s to the black car. There were no photographers in sight. The predictions had been true, eventually they would leave them alone, but they still needed to be careful. A few would sometimes turn up at random, and the instructions from the Royal Court remained the same: not to give them any opportunity.

“¡Sara, nos vamos!” (“Sara, we’re leaving!”) Linda called from the doorway as she was putting on her shoes. 

“She’s not coming, is she?” Simon asked, tying his shoelaces. 

“I’m just letting her know,” Linda said, straightening up. “¿No te vas a despedir de ella?” (“Are you not going to say goodbye to her?”)

He shrugged, just as Sara emerged from her room, standing by them. Linda hugged her and told her about the leftover arepas and that she’d be back in an hour or so perhaps, and went to the car. 

“Um, take care then,” Sara said to Simon.

“Thanks. I will,” he responded curtly. She and Wilhelm glanced at each other. 

“Bye.” 

“Bye.”

The awkward moment was interrupted by Malin saying that they had to go. Joakim was saying something to Linda through the open passenger door. The boys go into their respective cars. Simon caught one last sight of Sara before she closed the front door. 

“Joakim says Wille needs to run an errand, so we’ll get to directly to Hillerska and they’ll catch up,” Linda announced, starting to back out. 

“What? ‘Run an errand’?”

“That’s what he said.” 

Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

- What errand? - he texted Wilhelm.

- I knew you’d be prying. *narrowed eyes emoji* It’s a secret. - Wilhelm texted back.

- I thought we had no secrets between us *raised eyebrow emoji*

- It’s a surprise, then.

- I hate surprises.

- Maybe you’ll like this one.

- Okay, well, hurry.

- Wow, you miss me already? 

- I’m not dealing with Vincent and company on my own.

- Why not? You can take on him.

- And get kicked out of Forest Ridge before I even set foot in my new dorm room…

- Fine, I’ll be quick.

Simon suspected that Wilhelm’s ‘surprise’ consisted of food, something like their ‘first date’ pretend-picnic in Wilhelm’s room. But they just had dinner. He didn’t need Wilhelm ‘running errands’ when they were supposed to arrive at Hillerska together. 

In the side mirror, he watched the other car turn down another street. Linda kept driving on the main road. 

“Mum, please go slower. I’d rather not get there way before Wille.” 

Linda sighed and decelerated the car. They were already going pretty slow. 

“Tú sabes que puedes entrar ahí solo, ¿verdad? Eres residente ahora,” (“You know that you can walk in there on your own, right? You’re a resident now,”) Linda responded; it sounded like she was telling him to get a grip. “And Minou will be there,” she added, her tone softening. Like Minou’s presence was meant to comfort him.  

“I know, mum. But…” he sighed, feeling something in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he ate way too fast. “It’s still…”

“Are you having second thoughts?” Linda asked worriedly. He shook his head.

“No. It’s just… like a hurdle that I need to get past. I know there will be people waiting, to make an unnecessary big deal of it, and it’s just… awkward… Especially if I have to do it on my own, I don’t like that kind of attention. If Wille’s there, the attention is mostly on him. And I know it sucks for me to say that, because he doesn’t like it either, but at least when we’re together it’s not so bad.”

He was babbling, feeling antsy and a little nauseated.

“Ya entiendo.” (“I get it now.”) Linda said.

He felt her slow down even more.

They still got there before Wilhelm’s car reappeared in the rearview mirror. As they made their way down the long road up to the main building, Simon felt sicker as he spotted the people standing outside waiting: Minou, housemaster Göran, and headmistress Lilja for some reason, and beside them, looking like a pompous ass (as always), Vincent. To make matters worse, Alexander was also there, hanging back like a footman, looking sullen. 

Linda waved and smiled as she parked. Simon looked around and growled.

- Where are you? - he texted Wilhelm. 

- On my way - Wilhelm texted back after about five seconds. 

- I will kill you if you’re not here in two seconds.

- But my time machine is broken! And so is my tele-transportation device! 

“Simon, tenemos que ir a saludar, no están esperando,” (“Simon, we have to go greet them, they’re waiting for us,”) Linda said, taking off her seatbelt. Groaning, Simon took off his, and opened the door. 

“Hello, Linda, Simon,” Minou greeted them, approaching and shaking their hands, a gesture more formal than what they had become used to in the past two weeks. “You’ve already met Anette Lilja, she wanted to welcome you personally.”

“Linda, so nice to see you again! Simon, so glad to have you officially as a boarder!” Anette said with a wide smile, reaching for Linda’s and Simon’s hands in turn. 

Simon glanced around, hoping to see the car in the distance, and Linda had to nudge him back to the group. Lilja introduced Göran to Linda, and Göran in turn introduced Vincent as the Forest Ridge prefect. Unlike when Wille arrived at Hillerska last year, when everyone was in uniform, Vincent and Alexander were in regular clothes.

“Of course I know Simon, we were in the rowing team together, until he inexplicably quit,” Vincent said, in a very courteous and polite voice. 

“I think the reason was pretty clear,” Simon stated, equally courteous. “As the captain, you should know.”

Vincent smiled at the adults, before they all became engrossed in conversation. 

“Alexander, get the bags, will you?” he ordered with a nod of his head. Alexander looked like he had swallowed a nail, meeting Simon’s eyes briefly before stepping forward. Simon held up his hands and gave a tight-lipped polite smile. 

“No need. I can do it.”

Vincent rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s part of it. Alex,” he gestured with his hand this time, like he was ordering a butler around. 

Alexander dithered, then advanced again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I can carry my own bags,” Simon growled, feeling a sharp elbow from Linda in his ribs, even as she was still in conversation with the headmistress. He ignored it and cut ahead of Alexander to open the car and fetch the bags. The other boy staggered to a stop, disconcerted as he glanced timidly between Simon and Vincent. 

Vincent scowled at the two, then lifted his chin and stared Simon down.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all.  

“Don’t worry about it,” Simon replied, flashing the most pleasant grin he could muster, for the benefit of his mother, whom he sensed was watching him out of the corner of her eye. It seemed to irk Vincent further; he drew a sharp breath through his nose and resumed his own forced smile. 

“Can I at least do my introduction speech? I only became prefect this year, and I didn’t get a chance to give it when most first years arrived. I won’t have a chance to do it anymore. You’ll have a different prefect next year.”

“Oh, you have a speech?” Simon hadn’t meant to sound so condescending. Vincent smiled, equally condescending.  

“Yes, it’s about the rich history and traditions of Hillerska, something that I’m guessing you don’t know much about, so this should be very useful to you.”

He gestured for Simon to follow him. With a tense exhale and one last glance over his shoulder in search of an approaching car, Simon did. Alexander walked behind them at a distance. Linda, Minou, Lilja and Göran slowly trailed after. 

Simon was almost amused by the exaggerated grandiose tone in which Vincent spoke about the founders and the monarchy and the generations of noble families that came through, and the values that were taught and the rituals of passage and traditions that were passed down each year, stopping every few steps in front of a picture hanging on the wall. He looked where Vincent pointed and nodded along and hummed with interest and overall appeared to be listening, but his brain had long tuned out the words. 

Until they reached the common room. Simon had only seen it in passing before. Standing in front of it now, it looked like a fancy and stuffy living room, with antique furniture and lamps, in strange contrast with the teenage boys all lounging inside, thrown across armchairs and sofas with their phones in their faces or playing billiards with a tiny table. 

The room grew quiet, and all the boys stopped what they were doing and glanced up at them, at least for a moment, before resuming their activities. Simon only made eye contact with one person for a split second; August, sitting by the window, cast his eyes down immediately and became absorbed into his phone. 

Vincent leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “You have been here for two weeks now, and yet you haven’t set foot in this room, and I think that’s a shame. This is where community happens, where lifelong bonds are formed. This is where you get to know your housemates,” Vincent said, like it was the most important message he had ever shared. 

Simon took a deep breath. “Hmm, thrilling.”

Vincent shook his head. “Come on, you can’t hide in your room or Wilhelm’s forever. Although I’m guessing you keep yourself pretty… entertained in there.”

There was a little snicker from someone to their right. Simon reflexively checked for the reaction of two people. His eyes found Nils sitting on the couch, poring over the book in his hands, although his eyes didn’t seem to be moving at all. August seemed to sink further into his chair. 

“Anything is more entertaining, I’m sure,” Simon said with a little nod. “Putting my skin against a cheese grater would be more entertaining and less painful. But I guess I can give it a try, at some point.”

Vincent shook his head again, amused by this response. “You know, Wilhelm used to hang out here, but not since you showed up, and I have to say, it’s unfair. He used to be more social, he used to be a part of this house, and lately no one even sees him at all.” 

Simon gave a compliant smile. “He can do whatever he wants.”

“Of course he can. However, this is part of the tradition as house members, and you are both expected to uphold these traditions.”

Vincent sneered when Simon rolled his eyes. 

“You might think this is all a joke, especially after your boyfriend’s little speech during the jubilee, but how long is this rebellious streak of yours even going to last? Ultimately, everyone wants to belong somewhere, and you have a chance to belong here, if you don’t waste it. But this behavior of the past two weeks is not ideal. I mean, what would your would-have-been brother-in-law have to say about it?”

Simon stiffened, smile fading. 

“What?”

Vincent smirked, a little disconcerted by Simon’s expression. “Erik, I’m talking about Erik,” he clarified matter-of-factly. “The late Crown Prince was once a member of this house too, and he would have been disappointed in knowing his little brother-”

“I know who you’re talking about. Don’t talk about him,” Simon blurted out. 

A few of the boys looked up in surprise, no longer pretending that they weren’t already eavesdropping. 

Vincent blinked, and frowned. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said don’t talk about him.”

The prefect gave a disconcerted scoff. “Oh, I’m sorry, I can’t talk about my former housemate, like-”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“-we… I shouldn’t?”

“At least not to me or Wille, okay? It’s a simple request.”

Vincent seemed to be at a loss for words. Simon stared around, feeling his cheeks warm. He nearly met August’s gaze again, but August’s eyes lowered back to his phone at that instant. 

“Listen, Eriksson,” Vincent started in a low, slow voice, “you’re a part of this house now, so you will show some respect to your fucking prefect. And also we have standards, so you best leave that small town, anarchic, socialist mentality and agenda at the door-”

“I can see you’ve been dying to say that since I even showed up here two weeks ago, let alone since you started your speech. I’m so glad you finally got it out and got rid of that itch. Can we stop this now? You don’t want me here any more than I actually want to be here, but I guess we’re both gonna have to deal with it.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Walter, Lukas and Henry staring openly at them, like they were watching a tennis match. A second year boy with curly blond hair had a hand over his mouth, like he was refraining from laughing. 

Vincent’s face was suddenly red, eyes narrow. 

“You’re pretty bold, even without your boyfriend by your side. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised, considering your background. I guess a rough life has taught you to pick a fight wherever you go.”

“And you seem to have the narcissist despot thing nailed, but maybe I shouldn’t be surprised either. I guess life must be very difficult when your only personality trait is rich dickhead.”

A snort of laughter escaped Lukas, which he quickly covered with a cough. Vincent became redder.

“Listen very carefully, you little shit, just because you’re fucking the crown prince doesn’t mean that you-”

“Everything okay?”

Wilhelm appeared behind them so suddenly, that Vincent actually jumped. Alexander had all but amalgamated with the wall behind him. Simon would be lying if he said he wasn’t massively relieved at the sight of Wilhelm. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Vincent was just finishing his introduction. And leaving.” 

To say that Vincent looked miffed would be a gross understatement. “I haven’t showed you the rest of the house, or your room yet,” he said in a strange, constricted voice. 

Wilhelm glanced between him and Alexander, and smiled.

“I’m sure we will be able to find it on our own. We can take it from here, thank you.”

He reached for one of Simon’s bags and put one arm around Simon’s shoulders and and walked with him down the hallway, toward where Simon’s room was. Malin opened the door to the corridor for them, beyond which they spotted Lilja and Göran showing Minou and Linda to the room, which was conveniently just across the hallway from Wilhelm’s. That could only have been Minou’s doing. 

They stopped on the other side of the door as Malin closed it again. 

“You okay?” Wilhelm asked in a low voice once they were out of earshot. Simon realized he had been trembling a bit. 

“Yeah,” he said, feeling the tension ebb away a bit. Wilhelm nodded. 

“Okay.”

“You… don’t want to know what that was about?” Simon asked. He shouldn’t have said all those things, he shouldn’t have challenged Vincent, not in front of everyone at least, and he shouldn’t have gotten so worked up about Vincent mentioning Erik. 

Why did he get so worked up about it? 

Wilhelm shrugged. “Nah, I’m pretty sure he deserved it.”

“You don’t know what I said to him.”

“Whatever you said, you made him turn purple. Well done.”

Simon snickered. Wilhelm pressed their foreheads together for a moment, before pressing his lips to Simon’s temple. 

“See? I told you you could take on him.”

“I feel like I need to lay down. Where the fuck were you?”

Wilhelm didn’t reply, squeezing him closer instead. He let go as they approached the room and stood beside Lilja and Göran. Inside the room, Linda was looking around while Minou inspected it with forensic precision. 

Across the hallway, Joakim was coming out of Wilhelm’s room after dropping off his weekend bag; he handed Wilhelm a brown paper bag, and Wilhelm thanked him. The bodyguard said goodbye and walked away. 

“What’s in the bag?” Simon whispered. 

“I’ll show you in a bit.”

When Lilja and Göran said their goodbyes and left, Simon and Wilhelm came in and set the suitcase and bags by the wardrobe. Minou was tapping away on her phone. Linda continued looking around, a dim smile on her face. Simon looked equally unenthused. 

The room was grey and plain. He thought it would be more blue, like Wilhelm’s room, though he’s not sure he would have liked that either, given Wilhelm’s room was, in his opinion, excessively blue. It wasn’t like Simon had much taste in decoration, or that his room back home was a perfect mirror of his personality and favorite things, but this felt very barebones and… not cozy. Exactly what he expected from a boarding house dorm room. He suddenly wished he had brought Oso along.

Minou started prattling on about their appointments for next week, but Simon wasn’t paying attention, surveying the plain grey tack board over the desk, the grey curtains, the grey quilt, the bare shelves above the bed. A little grey booklet sat on the desk, that read ‘Code of Conduct’. He grimaced and fought the urge to toss it right into the bin. 

He heard Minou say goodbye, but she led Wilhelm outside to talk before she left. Wilhelm rolled his eyes and followed her out the door. 

“Mami, ¿qué te parece?” (“Mum, what do you think?”) Simon asked Linda, who appeared transfixed, staring out the window. She turned, smiling and humming and tapping her chin with one finger.

“Hm, creo que le falta algo…” (“Hm, I think something’s missing…”) she said, winking and reaching into her bag. “Ta-da!” She pulled out a framed family photo and showed it to him proudly before placing it on the desk. “So that it feels a bit more homey.”

Simon laughed and nodded. “Thank you, this is perfect.” He stared at the picture; it was the one from the bookshelf in the living room, taken on New Year’s Eve two years ago, the three Erikssons all bundled up and waving around sparklers. Sara’s smile was the widest. 

Linda sniffled beside him. 

“Mami, ¿estás bien?” (“Mum, are you okay?”) Simon asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. She was nodding and smiling, tears springing to her eyes; she turned to wrap him in a hug. 

The door opened, and Wilhelm hesitated and looked apologetic. “Oh, um, I can come back later…”

“No, no, Wille, come in,” Linda said, gesturing for them to sit on the bed, as she took the desk chair. “I need to say something to you both.” 

Simon groaned. “Oh God, no, is this…?”

Linda gave a stern nod. “Yes, it is. Time for the uncomfortable parent talk.” She broke into a kind smile. “I’m joking, of course, this won’t be uncomfortable.”

“Yeah right,” Simon mumbled, already dreading what she’d say. A clueless Wilhelm sat beside him. 

“I just want to remind you both to be respectful to your housemates, but also that you make yourselves be respected too. Things have happened that your privacy has been violated, and as unfair as that is, unfortunately it can happen again. People might take advantage of you, without caring about your feelings. So it’s up to you to be careful and protect yourselves and each other.”

It sounded like Linda had thought long and hard about this. Simon didn’t feel so mortified anymore. He glanced at Wilhelm, who was listening intently and nodding. 

Linda cleared her throat. ”And I know you’re young and in love and you are being intimate, and that’s okay, no need to be embarrassed, Wille,” she joked as Wilhelm’s whole face and ears quickly became red, “but remember to respect each other too, okay? I know you probably are already, but… it’s always nice to remember. We sometimes lose focus and forget the most important things.” She sighed. “I trust that you will protect and keep each other safe, that you will trust and be kind to each other, and that you will talk when you need it, and even when you don’t need it. And I hope you know… that you can always count on me.” Her voice broke. 

The redness faded from Wilhelm’s face and he nodded again, a bit stunned. Simon took Linda’s hand and smiled. 

“Don’t worry, mum, we will. We do.”

She rummaged through her bag, eyes glistening with fresh tears. 

“I feel like you didn’t get this emotional when Sara moved out,” Simon pointed out.

“Yes I did,” Linda said, holding up a tissue triumphantly and dabbing at her eyes with it. “I was stressed about her moving here, but I was also very proud, so maybe I didn’t seem as emotional.” She touched his face and sniffled. “But you… mi chiquitito, you moving here weighs a bit heavier. Especially with everything that happened, I… can’t help but be a little afraid. And this is more official now, this is you definitely moving out. I haven’t gotten used to it yet. But I will… And I’m so proud of you.”

“You’ll make me cry…”

“Ay no, perdón, ya, ya,” (“Oh no, I’m sorry, that’s it, that’s it,”) she said, wiping her face. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I love you.” Linda wrapped him into a big hug, and Simon felt small, like a child. Suddenly he was not ready.

She let go and touched his face again, eyes misty, and turned to hug Wilhelm. “Please take care of my baby, okay?”

“Of course,” Wilhelm mumbled into her shoulder.

“Take care of each other.”

“We will.”

With a heavy heart, Simon watched his mother leave, though she turned around before closing the door and said rapidly “Saca la ropa de la maleta antes que se arrugue más” (“Take the clothes out of the suitcase before they get more wrinkly”), making him laugh, and then she was gone. 

He lifted his suitcase onto the bed. If there was one thing he hated more than packing, it was unpacking. But he might as well just get the tedious task done; it might help him not think about feeling a bit homesick again.

He’d been living at Forest Ridge already for two weeks, why was he still homesick? Although he was already used to Wilhelm’s room, and this was a new one. Maybe it was just another change that he had to adjust to. 

Wilhelm sat crosslegged on the bed, watching him. “I can help you unpack,” he offered. Simon shook his head. 

“Thanks, but don’t worry, I can do it.” 

The orange sweater sat on top. He picked it up and tossed it onto the bed. 

“Oh, right this one goes under the pillow,” Wilhelm teased him with a grin and a wink.

“Shut up,” Simon retorted, fighting a smile. He worked in silence for a minute, sorting through his clothes, hanging some and folding others. He still had to get the rest of his stuff from Wilhelm’s room. 

“You okay?” Wilhelm asked. 

Simon nodded, but didn’t look at him. 

Wilhelm leaned back against the wall. “So, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing toward the room. Simon shrugged.

“Well, it feels a bit smaller than my room at home.”

“It is, yeah,” Wilhelm replied. “I was first put in a single too.” 

“Why did you switch?” Simon asked. Wilhelm looked down at his hands. 

“Um, I didn’t. They put me in a double when… when I became crown prince.” 

Simon stopped folding. “Oh.” 

Wilhelm’s fingernails scratched at each other. “I suppose… they were trying to be nice, like…” he chuckled mirthlessly, “like a bigger room would somehow… make it better?” He shrugged. “I guess it was convenient, at least we were able to share it for two weeks.” 

Simon nodded slowly, absently, watching Wilhelm, who finally looked up at him. 

“I didn’t get a parent talk, though. Only Erik lecturing me, saying I was lucky, because he had to share a double until year three. I guess he was trying to cheer me up, and…” he trailed and looked around.

A deep sadness overcame Simon. He put down the pair of trousers in his hands and came to sit next to Wilhelm. He’d finish unpacking later. 

“I like that at least we’re across the hall from each other,” he said, bumping their shoulders together. “But you’ll stay here tonight, right?”

Wilhelm’s smile faded and his eyes became sad. “Oh,” he started in a small voice, “they didn’t tell you, did they?” He gave a deep, heavy sigh. “We’re… we’re not allowed to sleep in each other’s rooms… they just implemented this new rule, and…”

Simon felt a coldness run down the back of his neck, but it disappeared as soon as he spotted the corners of Wilhelm’s lips quivering, fighting a smile. 

“You- oh, you- fucking jerk…” he said, mouth agape, shoving Wilhelm’s shoulder before he tried to bury his gleeful face in his neck. “I fucking believed you for a second, you asshole…” 

“Did you? So I’m a good actor?” Wilhelm asked, trying and failing to not laugh. Simon shoved him again for good measure.

“Even if it were true, do you think I would follow such a bullshit rule?” Wilhelm asked, arms around Simon.

“No…” Simon said, shaking his head, fighting a smile. He nuzzled Wilhelm’s chin. 

“Of course we’re staying here. And we don’t have to go to dinner anymore, so we can watch a movie, or make out as we watch a movie, or we can do other stuff too whilst watching a movie… we can do whatever you want, as soon as you’re done packing someday,” Wilhelm said pointedly, gesturing to the still pretty full suitcase. Simon groaned and leaned back against him, making Wilhelm hug him tighter. 

He felt relieved. For a moment he feared that he had stumbled upon something that Wilhelm wasn’t ready to talk about. And they didn’t need to talk about it, if Wilhelm didn’t want to. He understood if it was too much, still too fresh. 

And maybe… maybe that’s why Simon had gotten a bit worked up about it earlier, with Vincent.

But he didn’t want to talk to Wilhelm about that right now either. Not yet.  

“What’s in the bag?” he asked again instead, gesturing at the brown paper bag on the desk. He was admittedly a little apprehensive; apparently, he was now scared of bags. 

To his surprise, Wilhelm became bashful. 

“Oh, it’s stupid… it’s a little gift for you,” he said. “Like… a homewarming gift.”

Simon chuckled. “You mean housewarming. Although homewarming sounds nicer.”

“Whatever it’s called, I just thought, you know…” Wilhelm shrugged. 

Simon smiled. “Is this the errand you ‘had to run’? And the reason why you were late and I had to deal with Vincent on my own?”

”But you did so well, he looked like his head was about to explode,” Wilhelm said, face splitting into a huge grin. He grabbed the bag himself and placed it on the bed between them. “This is really silly, I promise, it’s just…”

Simon peered into the bag and rolled his eyes, chuckling. As he predicted, it was food. The bag contained a packet of rye crispbread, a jar of Nutella, a selection of Marabou chocolates (including the Oreo one, his favorite), a few clementine oranges, mint gum, fruit gum, assorted lollipops, creamy taco chips, and a bag of salted popcorn. 

“I thought that maybe you’d feel a bit better about this whole… transition… if you had some snacks that you might have at home. I got a bit creative, though. Like, I’ve never seen you eat Marabous, but who doesn’t love Marabous, right?” 

“True,” Simon nodded. “Is this why you were looking through the pantry earlier?”

“Well… yes…” Wilhelm blushed.

Simon’s face hurt from smiling. He shook his head. “How did you… I’m trying to picture you in the shop. I thought you said you weren’t allowed to shop for yourself.”

“I’m not. Don’t tell Minou. She probably knows, though, she was asking why I was late, and I had to lie and said that I forgot something at your house and had to go back. And Malin insisted in going into the shop for me, but I managed to convince her to let me go with her, because I didn’t know exactly what I was buying, I was planning on just going with my gut, so they both had to come with me. It’s okay, they won’t tell,” Wilhelm rambled. “Anyway, I was also thinking about what you said… that day. About me not knowing-”

Simon groaned and rubbed his face. “Oh God, Wille, no… I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did, but it’s okay. You were right. And I know it’s barely significant, but-” 

“You didn’t have to do this, honestly,” Simon protested. 

“Didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”

Simon stared at him. “So you didn’t just go grocery shopping to prove that you can do it yourself.”

“No, I went grocery shopping because I didn’t have time to buy everything online and have it delivered in time, because it literally occurred to me to get you a homewarming gift whilst you were in your room packing, but… also because I really wanted to.” 

Simon really tried to picture Wilhelm, shopping basket in hand, in the produce aisle at the Coop in Bjärstad picking clementine oranges and then standing in line to pay, whilst Malin and Joakim flanked him. If anyone saw him and snapped a picture and the RC found out, Wilhelm would be in trouble. 

That made him feel extra special, and also like his boyfriend was the corniest human being on Earth.

“Okay, fine, I really appreciate it. But you didn’t buy anything for yourself?”

Wilhelm pouted like a child. “You mean you’re not sharing a Marabou with me?”

Simon chuckled and rolled his eyes in pretend annoyance, before reaching into the bag, whilst Wilhelm laughed and said he really wasn’t big on snacking. “There’s actually something in there for both of us.” 

“You mean this?” Simon asked, glancing again into the bag. He pulled out two boxes; one was a white Fujifilm Instax Mini camera, which took and printed instant pictures, similarly to a Polaroid camera, and the other was a box of cartridges of film. He cocked an eyebrow. “Ummm… what exactly did you have in mind we’ll be doing with this?”

“Haha, very funny, hmm, interesting that that’s where your mind went immediately,” Wilhelm teased, before turning even redder. “Don’t laugh, but… I just saw it and… I think Felice has a similar one, and I kind of wanted to… I have selfies of us in my phone, but I wanted to have one in my room, and, well, I don’t know how or where to print from my phone. So I thought this would be more effective.”

Simon smiled as he unboxed it, suddenly very excited. He’d seen these before, a girl at his old school used to have one, but he had never used one. He quickly scanned the instructions on how to put the cartridge into the camera and how to use it. Wilhelm complained that he hadn’t realized there was no screen, and how were they supposed to see how they were framing themselves correctly.

“Like this,” Simon said, making Wilhelm hold the camera at arm’s length, checking through the visor and then getting beside Wilhelm, one hand reaching out to touch the button. “Smile!” he said, as they squished together as close as possible. They were both momentarily blinded by the flash, jumping at the same time as the camera whirred loudly and the film popped out the top. They stared at it until the image appeared; a bit of Simon’s face was cut off, but at least they didn’t close their eyes.

“And another one, this one’s for me,” Wilhelm said. Just as he was pressing the button, he turned to kiss Simon’s cheek, and Simon let out a laugh. The flash blinded them again. 

Simon rubbed his eyes as the photo revealed. The harsh flash made Wilhelm’s skin look paper white on both photos, but Simon still loved it. He kept the first one and placed it at the base of the desk lamp in the meantime. Then he turned to kiss Wilhelm and thanked him for the wonderful corny ‘homewarming’ gift even though he pointed out it was missing a knife to spread the Nutella, to which Wilhelm shot him a look and mumbled something about taking a knife from the dining hall and that it was not stealing if it never left the premises. 

Simon laughed and leaned against Wilhelm, letting out a tired sigh. Wilhelm kissed his temple, and Simon tilted his face toward him to get a proper kiss, which Wilhelm promptly obliged. 

Simon hadn’t realized that he had been so tense, his whole body clenched, until he melted into the kiss and felt the tension ebb away.

“You…” Wilhelm said between kisses, “need to…” kiss, “finish…” kiss, “unpacking.”

“Hmmmnooooo…” Simon mumbled against his lips. 

“Yeees. Listen, it would be much faster if you let me help you,” Wilhelm countered, pulling away. 

“Urrrgh…” Simon growled, “fine.”

He felt happy in a way that he couldn’t explain, as they hung and folded and Wilhelm examined his graphic t-shirts, and they tossed balled up pairs of socks at each other, and Simon found himself blushing at the way Wilhelm looked wearing his favorite knit hat. They went to Wilhelm’s room to get the rest of his things, and Wilhelm changed his clothes and grabbed his laptop. Before going back to Simon’s room, Wilhelm excitedly tucked his brand new polaroid picture into the edge of the mirror. 

It felt domestic and warming. It was the exact opposite of the first night after Simon moved into Wilhelm’s dorm. Because Wilhelm seemed lighter, more relaxed. 

And he was the tense one. 

He didn’t need to be. They could skip the dining hall and seeing Vincent and August and the rest of the Forest Ridge boys, at least until the morning. They could stay in and chill and carry on as normal. They could stay in their little world a bit longer. 

It still felt very strange to be in a new room which was supposed to be his own but felt very unfamiliar. It smelled different, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to be in there alone at any time. 

He tried not to think about that. They opened the bag of popcorn and cuddled in bed and started a movie on Wilhelm’s laptop, and he told himself to relax. Wilhelm was there, so it was not so strange. 

If he could get used to this, maybe he’d be fine. 

Simon woke up in his new bed, alone. 

For a moment, he was disoriented; this wasn’t Wilhelm’s dorm room, or in his own bed back home. 

As soon as he remembered, he sat up and pulled his phone out of his joggers’ pocket, where it had been digging into his hip. He was thirsty and his mouth was salty from the popcorn. And he needed to pee. 

Wilhelm’s laptop was closed on the desk, the unfinished bag of chips on top.

The door opened and a sliver of light cut through the darkness momentarily. 

“Hey,” he heard Wilhelm’s voice as his silhouette approached. “I was just brushing my teeth and I had to use the bathroom.”

“You should have woken me,” Simon said, rubbing his eyes. “I have to do all those things anyway.”

“Sorry. You looked like you needed a little break,” Wilhelm said, sitting beside him and putting an arm around his shoulders. 

“Did I?”

“Felt like maybe this day was a bit overwhelming.”

“Not really…” Simon started, but bit his lip. “I’m- never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… you’re right, I might have been… overwhelmed. But I’m okay now.” He pecked his lips and said he’d be right back. He was relieved not to run into anyone as he headed to the bathroom. Whatever time it was, it seemed to be quiet everywhere. 

When he came back, Wilhelm was back under the covers and did not stir at the sound of the door and seemed to be asleep. Simon brushed his teeth in the dark and walked back to the bed. 

Face relaxed, Wilhelm had truly dozed off. A hand lay limp across the space where Simon would be, 

Simon knelt beside him and watched him adoringly for a moment. He reached for the camera on the desk, did his best to frame his sleeping boyfriend in the dark, and clicked the button.

FLASH.

”Ow! No! What the fuck!” A startled, sleepy Wilhelm exclaimed, shielding his eyes. Simon pressed a hand to his own eyes and groaned.

”I’m sorry! I forgot it would do that!” 

The camera whirred as the photo popped out the top. 

“Did you take a picture of me sleeping?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry… You looked so… yeah…” Simon replied, cheeks hot. Wilhelm pressed his face to the pillow, growling under his breath. 

“If I was drooling, I will never forgive you. Did it at least come out okay? It better have been worth it, because I am blind now.” 

Simon squinted at the photo in the dim light filtering through the closed curtains. “Sleeping Beauty would be jealous,” he said, dropping it on the desk. 

“You mean I look like a beautiful princess waiting for her prince to come kiss her and break the curse and wake her?” 

Chuckling, Simon leaned down and kissed Wilhelm on the lips, a little more enthusiastic and seductive than any prince in any fairy tale. Wilhelm kissed him back, as enthusiastic, tugging him down by the front of his t-shirt and into his arms. Simon settled beside him. 

“Did I tell you about my mum asking today if I wanted a bigger bed? She’s worried that we’re too big for a twin,” he said. Wilhelm shrugged. 

“Well, we kind of are, but… a bigger bed would take up your entire room.”

“Exactly, that’s what I told her.”

“And we’re used to the smaller bed. I don’t know about you, but I really like this… Oh but please tell me you didn’t talk about-”

“Yeah, I think that’s what prompted the talk earlier.”

“Oh God…”

“You do know she’s aware we’re having sex, she said it,” he teased, sensing Wilhelm’s redness. “Although maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that we cuddle naked.”

“You did not.”

“I never used the word ‘empiernados’ before, but it’s what came to mind.”

“Wait, what is emp-… what is that?”

Empiernados means, like, tangled up in one another, like with your legs all wrapped up in each other.”

“You did NOT say that to your mum.”

“I had to stop her somehow from asking more questions.”

“I will never be able to look at her again…”

Simon laughed. Wilhelm whispered ‘empiernados’ to himself, like he was trying to commit it to memory.

They fell silent, and Simon wondered if Wilhelm had fallen asleep again. He still didn’t know how late it was. Sleep evaded him. 

“I… I’m starting to wonder if…” he started quietly. 

“If what?” Wilhelm responded, clearly still awake. 

Simon hesitated, then took a deep breath. Every time he was honest, he had to brace himself. In case everything changed. 

“I know we’re just starting again, and I know that I love you, and I want to be with you, so maybe it’s normal for us to want to be with each other all the time, but… I’m worried we’ll get sick of each other… like, maybe you’ll get sick of me soon.”

“Are you sick of me already?” Wilhelm asked. 

“No,” Simon replied quickly. “Although I wouldn’t mind a break from your horrid morning breath,” he joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. Wilhelm sat up quick as a spring, mouth agape, eyes wide and sharp like daggers, letting out the breathiest, most theatrical outraged gasp.

MY morning breath?” 

Simon let out a belly laugh. “I’m kidding, of course. That’s how much I like you, I’m willing to put up with your stinky mouth.”

“HOW. DARE. YOU. That was one time! And what about YOUR stinky mouth!” Wilhelm growled, tickling Simon, who writhed and giggled as he tried to counterattack. 

They stopped, breathless, lips meeting again for a long time. Wilhelm rubbed their noses. 

“Do you have any idea how annoying you’d have to get for me to get sick of you?” 

Simon smiled, despite himself. He was trying not to think of the argument a few days earlier. 

He wouldn’t blame Wilhelm if he didn’t want to deal with that ever again. 

“I don’t think I’d get sick of you easily either,” he reassured him. “I guess I’m more worried that I have, like, separation anxiety or something.” 

“Oh, same.” 

“Really?” 

“In my case, I wouldn’t be surprised,” Wilhelm stated. “It’s taken me years to accept that I’m severely anxious, I’m not going to start denying it now. But I guess I’ll talk to Boris about it.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

He thought about how awful he felt when Wilhelm was taking to Stockholm, and how fearful he was that he could be taken away again. Happiness for him didn’t seem to last all that long. 

“At least we can be honest about that,” he added. 

Wilhelm let out a deep sigh, like he was about to say something.

“Well… in the spirit of being honest,” he started. “I… I ran into Marcus today.”

It was the last thing Simon would have imagined Wilhelm would say.

“What? Where?”

“At the shop.”

Simon didn’t know what to say. The chances of running into Marcus were still pretty high for him, since they lived in the same town (even if Simon was only around on the weekends), but he hoped to never have to deal with him again. And he didn’t expect Wilhelm to have to either. What were the odds, that the one time Wilhelm went into a local shop, he’d immediately run into him? Now Simon really wished Wilhelm had never gone shopping on his own.

Wilhelm’s thumb drew soothing circles on Simon’s arm. “We don’t have to talk about it, I just thought I should tell you.”  

“No, it’s, um, it’s fine. So… what was that like?” Simon finally asked. 

“Awkward. He got behind me in the queue to the register.”

Simon scoffed. Of course he did.

“Did he say anything to you?”

Wilhelm made a face. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it…”

“What did he say?”

He watched Wilhelm debate with himself.

“Just tell me, I don’t really care.”

“Well…” Wilhelm started, “I only noticed him when he was right behind me, and neither of us said anything at first. Then he finally said he didn’t expect to see me there, I didn’t say anything, just,” he demonstrated a light, polite nod. “Then we had a nice, long, uncomfortable silence, and… then he said…” he hesitated, “he said that he hopes that I know what I’m getting myself into…”

In his head he could hear Marcus’s voice saying those words. Simon tensed even more. 

“And that I should know that… you are not what you say you are… that you lie.” Wilhelm chuckled. “And he started to say that he wouldn’t be surprised if you lied about him to me, and something about when you were with him, but just then Joakim came over and he stopped talking and backed up a little.”

Simon trembled with anger; whether Marcus was just an asshole always or if he was really resentful about how Simon ended things, he didn’t care. What he did care about was if he was telling people lies about him. He lied about not watching the video, he might lie to other people about sleeping with Simon or something. 

He felt revolted. 

“Did he say anything else?”

“Nope. Then I paid, and told him ‘good luck’ and walked away.” Wilhelm caressed his arm. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Simon shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He had mostly forgotten Marcus and how he had made him feel. And now this. “Why did he even talk to you? What is his fucking problem?” he groaned. 

Wilhelm shrugged and sighed. “Whatever. One more person to have to deal with…”

Simon bit his lip. “You don’t believe him, do you?”

To his relief, Wilhelm laughed. 

“No, of course not! I believe you. Just… wondering why he’d say that… I don’t want him talking shit about you. I should have told them to shut the fuck up, but I didn’t want to draw attention. Maybe that’s what he was hoping I’d do. Who knows.”

“He’s a fucking jerk. He’s just mad about how things ended.”

“Well, I don’t really know how things ended, you haven’t told me. But you don’t have to tell me, of course. I’m not even… a little bit curious,” Wilhelm said in a funny voice.

Simon snickered. “Oh, you’re not? Are you sure?” he teased. 

Wilhelm shook his head. “Not remotely.”

“Mhmm… well, maybe I tell you anyway, so you can stop pretending not to be even a little bit remotely curious.” Even in the dark, he could see Wilhelm’s terrible attempt at seeming unconcerned.

“I mean, only if you want to…”

“Well, in the spirit of being honest…” Simon took a deep breath, and told him how Marcus first approached him, the awkward karaoke ‘date’, calling Marcus to distract himself, feeling bad because he thought Marcus actually liked him whilst he didn’t feel the same way, trying to break things off, how Marcus manipulated him to continue, what he said about the video, what he said about his family situation, going to the ball, the things that Marcus said when he realized that Simon had been with Wilhelm, how he told him he liked the drama and playing the victim… 

He stopped to look at Wilhelm. His face was neutral, and he wasn’t looking back at him.

“I wasn’t lying, you know? About not sleeping with him.”

“It’s really none of my business-”

“I know, but I still want you to know, in case he… claims he did,” Simon added. “I did try once, though… tried to start something at least, and… and he stopped me. And I’m really fucking glad he did, because I was just… I didn’t really want to, I just thought I should… like… I just wanted to move on. I guess I was trying to feel something… And…” he gestured with his hand, “nothing. I was so relieved that he stopped it. It wouldn’t have… made me feel better or anything.”

“Yeah,” Wilhelm nodded. “I get it. It’s like… me and Felice. As mad as I was at Henry for barging in, mostly because I knew that it would be all over school soon, I was so relieved that he interrupted us when he did. If anything more had happened, I think our friendship would have been completely ruined… and I didn’t want that.”

“Yeah,” Simon mused.

“And I really, really didn’t want you to find out about my lapse of judgment.”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

“And fuck, if you were jealous about a kiss, can you imagine how you would have gotten if something else had happened? You would have knocked my head clean off my body with that ball-”

Simon smacked Wilhelm with the pillow. Wilhelm let out a squawk of laughter. 

“Are you ever letting me live that down?” Simon growled.

Wilhelm put his arm around him and squeezed. “Never. It makes me so happy…”

There was a silence. Simon felt better after saying all that, like hearing Marcus’s words again cemented how much he didn’t care about it.

He felt warm breath against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Wilhelm whispered. Simon narrowed his eyes.  

“What are you sorry about now?”

“I don’t know… maybe you wouldn’t have had to deal with him, or any other bullshit you’ve had to deal with, if things between us hadn’t gotten so messed up. I feel like your life has been complicated since you met me.”

Simon smiled and rolled his eyes. “Ugh, do you have to make everything about yourself? My life was complicated before we met, you’re nothing special. So self-centered…” he shook his head. Wilhelm put a hand to his forehead and laughed, and Simon ruffled his hair.

“Maybe sometimes things have to get complicated, so you get better at figuring out how to make them less complicated.” He let out a deep breath. “I thought things with him, with someone like him, would be easier… briefly, it felt like they were, but… I missed you. Even if things with you were complicated, I still wanted you.”

Wilhelm nodded. “And I thought maybe you were better off without me. But I still wanted you too.”

“I guess that just means that we’ve both figured out that, even if it’s complicated, it’s worth it.”

Wilhelm kissed his shoulder again. Simon rolled over, an arm across Wilhelm’s chest. 

“You… do you think that… maybe I do enjoy the drama?” he mumbled, not meeting his eyes. 

Wilhelm scoffed. “What? No! Of course you don’t. We’ve had enough drama for the rest of our lives.”

Simon didn’t reply, so Wilhelm propped himself up to look him straight in the eye. 

“Listen, you can’t believe him, he obviously doesn’t know shit about you. You just told me he accused you of playing the victim. Fuck him.”

“Okay,” Simon said. “You’re right.”

“He has no idea of what you’re really like, but he pretended to have you all figured out.”

Simon smiled, curious. “And what am I really like?”

“Well… I’m still finding out.” Wilhelm leaned his head on his hand, his free hand interlacing with Simon’s. “I mean, do you know everything about me?”

Simon looked down at their hands, at the way Wilhelm played with his fingers. “Not yet. But tell me about what you have found out so far.” 

“Well,” Wilhelm started with a mischievous smile. “You’re…” he stared at Simon, as if he were trying to figure him out right there and then, and wanting to tease him mercilessly, but the mischief gave way to earnestness.

“You’re… the boy who rode his bike in the middle of the night to save me from dying on a football field.”

There was a flutter in Simon’s chest, like the one he felt that night, months ago, smiling at Wilhelm’s nervous face, telling him he liked him too.

“You’re kind, and caring, and loving…” Wilhelm continued, “and you’re smart and clever, too smart and clever sometimes… and you’re a great friend… and you’re so, so, SO fucking hot.”

Simon let out a laugh and blushed. 

”And you’re funny and sweet, and very stubborn, but loyal, and you’re passionate and brave…”

Simon’s eyebrows shot up, curious. “Passionate?” he repeated. 

Wilhelm blushed and shrugged. “About things. About everything. That’s a good thing, I mean it as a good thing. You’re passionate about music, and about politics and social justice, and about your family, and your principles, and…” He trailed off. 

“And… about you, right?” Simon finished for him. Wilhelm pressed his lips into a thin line, like he was refraining from smiling or laughing.

“I was going to say about us…”

“Mm-hmm, sure. That’s exactly what comes to mind when you say a very corny, cringey word like ‘passionate’.”

“Fine, I will never use that word again,” Wilhelm said with a scoff. Simon shook his head, still smiling.

“No, no, it’s true. I’m very… umm… passionate about us,” he said, like the word refused to come out of his lips. 

Wilhelm buried his face in the pillow. “Leave me alone,” he mumbled into it.

“Sorry, but teasing you is the only thing keeping me from blushing or giggling like an idiot at that word.”

“Oh is it?”

“Mm-hmm…” he said, fingers trailing the space between Wilhelm’s shoulder blades.  “Do you want to have… passionate sex in my new room?”

“Arrgh, no, stop saying it like that, it’s such a turn off,” Wilhelm cringed, rolling onto his back and throwing his arms over his face, as Simon slid one hand over Wilhelm’s chest and gave him a seductive look. 

“Come on, make passionate love to me, Wille,” he breathed in his ear, causing him to squirm. 

“Shut up!”

Minutes later, they had passionate sex. Twice.

They stayed up, talking about silly things, teasing each other, lips ghosting over each other’s skins, voices hushed, even though it felt like they were in their own little corner of the universe, until their eyes started drooping and they couldn’t finish their sentences.

But Simon lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling of his new room, which was like the ceiling in Wilhelm’s room, yet utterly unfamiliar. 

He wasn’t waking up with a jolt or having strange dreams that he couldn’t remember later, but he still had trouble sleeping or staying asleep. Too many thoughts fluttering around in his head, too many things happening and changes that he had to get used to. 

But the feeling of Wilhelm’s body pressed against his, arms around each other, well empiernados in his new tiny bed, it was comforting. 

He’d get better eventually, he reassured himself, fingers threading through Wilhelm’s hair. 

This was his room, and his bed, and they were together, and it was allowed, and they were safe.

“How do you feel now that you’re officially a boarder?”

Simon tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair and shrugged. He had another appointment with Boris on Monday, which was a good start to the week, considering he had a lot on his mind that he wanted to get out. 

“I don’t know. I had a… um… a bit of a fight with our prefect. He’s such a dick. I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t say that.”

Boris shook his head. “Why did you?”

“Why did I get in a fight, or why did I just call him a dick?”

“Both,” Boris said with a small smirk. 

“Well, because he is. He doesn’t like me, and he’s not hiding it. He doesn’t think I belong here. None of them do.”

“Do you think you belong here?”

Simon crossed his arms. “Not by their standards, no. I wouldn’t want to belong by their standards.”

“And what are those standards?”

“You know… being rich, noble, preferably white, non-immigrant, straight, and who knows what else… a whole lot of other things that I am not,” he said, thinking about the other boys that ticked most of those boxes but not all of them, and still managed to fit in, still wanted to fit in, Nils, Alexander… 

“Does Wilhelm belong?”

Simon stopped and bit his lip. Of course Wilhelm belonged. The only box he didn’t tick was the ‘invisible’ one, or at least would have remained invisible if it hadn’t been published on the Internet for the whole world to know. 

“I guess,” he answered. “I mean, he is the crown prince. But even if he does… he didn’t want to come here in the first place. He didn’t want any of this. But he…”

He didn’t have a choice.

Technically, if it hadn’t been for Wilhelm, Simon would probably never have set foot in Forest Ridge. The first time he did was the night he found Wilhelm from the football field. Rescued him, as Wilhelm pointed out.

If Wilhelm hadn’t been forced to come to Forest Ridge, they would never have met, and they wouldn’t have had sex with the curtains open, and none of the horrible things would have happened. But then also… 

“If you had the choice, if you could not have to live in Forest Ridge, would you?” Boris asked.

Simon opened his mouth to say “probably not” in a very resolute voice, but he hesitated.

“I don’t know,” he replied instead. He would be lying if he said he wouldn’t miss being with Wilhelm every night, being able to kiss him as much as he wanted to every night, and having sex as much as they wanted, and falling asleep empiernados, and waking up together, and pissing off snobby rich boys in the process. 

“I mean, some things make up for it. And I don’t want these… issue to impact my decisions.” he added. 

“Does it feel like these issues are something that you can handle?”

He thought about it, feeling a bit antsy. It wasn’t just the Forest Ridge boys, it was so many other things; it was the RC, and Wilhelm’s family, and Vincent, and the media, and Marcus, and Sara, and Nils, and Alexander, and August… It was a growing pile of things in his mind that he couldn’t finish putting in order or discarding or even ignoring…

He took a deep breath and tried to relax. 

“I think so. I’d try to, at least. Because… well, I’d rather be here anyway, where at least we get to be together.”

Boris remained silent, like he expected Simon to say something else.

“I feel like enough shit has happened… sorry… and we’ve been kept apart… and I don’t want that to happen again. We… I don’t want to feel like that anymore,” Simon said.

“The important thing is for you to be okay,” Boris began. “If you don’t feel comfortable with the living arrangements, if it’s causing you to still have trouble sleeping, or extra stress, even after an adjustment period, then maybe it’s not the ideal arrangement for you. Only you can decide what’s best for you. And if it’s not working out, then maybe other options should be considered.”

Simon nodded, thinking about it. He was still having trouble sleeping, still stressed. Yes, maybe there was an adjustment period. 

And yet, it wasn’t like things would just stop happening. With the whole August issue alone, Simon had a lot in his mind already. 

Then there was the RC and their ‘quest’ to slowly and steadily infiltrate his life, despite his efforts to keep them at bay. The conversation with Rosh and Ayub floated in his mind, that this would be his life, if he stayed with Wilhelm, and he was just going to have to give in a little. 

He knew that. Wilhelm had warned him. They talked about it. That didn’t mean he had gotten accustomed to the idea yet. 

And then there was… everyone. Everyone in the world, apparently, or in Sweden, at least, who had an opinion on him, on his background, his family, his house, his clothes… Those people didn’t know him. Surely he shouldn’t care about them, surely he should ignore all the noise and carry on with his life. 

He hadn’t gotten used to that, either.

“Yeah, sure, but it’s not even about that, is it?” he said. “It doesn’t matter where I live, or if I have my own room, or even if I’m in a different house, or whatever. It’s about us being together. People will always have an opinion about that, not matter what.”

Boris gave a sympathetic nod. “Unfortunately yes, you can’t control what other people think or say about you,” he agreed. “What you can control is if you let it affect you.”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s important to talk about it. Sometimes, as much as we try not to let things bother us, as much as we try to let others’ opinions slide, it can still sting, it can be hurtful. And we shouldn’t keep those feelings bottled up. It’s helpful to talk about it. Especially with the person who is going through the same thing with you.”

Simon nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“Have you talked to Wilhelm about it?”

“Yeah, we… we talk all the time.” He took a deep breath, fidgeting, feeling tense again. “That’s not to say that everything’s perfect. We kind of… had a fight last week.”

Simon told him about the whole uniform debacle, and about what his friends said to him, and about arguing with his mother and berating Wilhelm for not understanding. 

“I guess I didn’t know how to deal with that, and I… I took it out on him, and then I felt terrible, Because I know he can’t control it either, what people say or think, and… other things, like how the RC… the Royal Court, how they… are with us. We talked about it, and we made up.”

“That’s good.”

Simon stared at Boris curiously, wondering (even though he knew it was best not to think about that) if Wilhelm had already talked about the same thing with him, if Boris now had both sides of the story now, and how different those two sides were…

“I know… that we have a good thing going,” he started in a slow, careful voice, “I feel really confident that we can be okay, that we can make it work… and yet…”

Boris listened. There was a lump in Simon’s throat.

“I… I keep feeling that it’s all going to go to shit any moment. Sorry,” he winced. “Like, when we least expect it, it’s going to become… too much.”

“What do you mean ‘too much’?”

It wasn’t that Simon wasn’t aware of his own insecurities, feeling like a fish out of water all the time now, but he also wondered if he was fooling himself, thinking that he could handle all of it. He knew that was what worried Wilhelm the most, if it was too much to ask from Simon, to make so many adjustments to this life.

“What kind of adjustments?”

Simon sighed. “They’re starting to pressure us, pressure him mostly, to think about the future. If we’re gonna get married and have kids and…” he let out a mirthless chuckle. “I’ve never thought about these things before, and I didn’t expect to have to think about them right now. We’re still in school, I’m still figuring out what I want to do after I graduate, where I’m gonna live…” he trailed off.

“And what do you want to do?”

Simon hesitated. He was about to say ‘music composition’, but he wasn’t sure if that was a pipe dream, and if he should be more realistic. His whole life he had to be realistic. The only thing that kept him going was music, but to him music had been a realistic path in life… until the Royal Court stopped him from singing his song. 

 He now knew, thanks to the bombardment of pdfs on royal history and roles and duties provided by Minou, that members of the royal family were not allowed to have professional jobs, and that included their spouses. Which meant that, if he and Wilhelm ever got married, a career in musical composition or performance was not only unrealistic, it was out of the question. 

Even being with Wilhelm felt less and less plausible, the more things happened, the more he tried to glance the bigger picture. The Royal Court being involved and talking to them about long-term plans didn’t actually make it any more realistic, either.

Whenever he tried to think of the future, any future, it was still fuzzy, blurry, out of focus… 

“I’m not sure,” he finally answered, the lump in his throat becoming more painful. “Sometimes it feels like there’s too much going on, and… thinking about the future is… it’s difficult to picture…”

Boris peered at him, a hand on his chin. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that… I can’t see myself in the future. With him, or just myself,” he shook his head slowly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, obviously, but trying to imagine it, like… I can’t see anything in my mind. I haven’t been able to picture myself in any future at all. I don’t know if that’s normal.”

“Were you able to before?”

“I think so.” 

Of course he did. Every time he sang in the shower, shampoo bottle as a microphone, pretending that he was on stage at a huge venue and that the noise of the water running was the claps and cheers of the sold out crowd, or when he played the piano in the music room and imagined that he was rehearsing for a concert with the philharmonic orchestra, those weren’t just fantasies, he was manifesting. 

He hadn’t done any of that in months. Like his mind and his fantasies had been hijacked by outsiders.

“I just feel like I’m always thinking that something bad is going to happen again…” he admitted.

Boris leaned forward in his seat. “This is not unusual. You’ve been through something traumatic, and you’re experiencing a lot of stress as a result. So naturally, you worry that these things might happen again and that you might not get more time with Wilhelm.”

Simon’s throat felt tight as Boris explained how trauma can cause people to have difficulty picturing a future, and how it might cause him to feel constantly alert and defensive, and that talking to Wilhelm about it might help them work through those issues together.

“Do you think you would like a future together?”

Simon shrugged and let out a deep sigh. “I… I really don’t know… I’ve honestly never thought about it, not seriously at least, not with one specific person in mind. We’ve only really talked about it once, a few days ago, and… well, I guess… it would be nice,” he managed a small smile. “I mean… I don’t think anyone else would understand what I’ve been through. And…”

And I really love him, he thought. 

“But… how am I supposed to know?”

“I understand. You’re both very young, and as you say, you have other things in mind.”

Simon fidgeted with a button on the sleeve of his sweater. “But really, like, how do I know? That the person that I’m with is, like, the right person to plan a future with?”

“Well,” Boris said, hands linked over his chest, “ideally, that person would be someone with whom you can talk about anything at the end of the day, even if you spend the entire day together; talk about past experiences and future hopes, and dreams, fears and worries, silly thoughts. Someone with whom you can share the good and bad, work through personal issues, encourage each other to pursue challenges, be honest, be yourselves. Someone who will listen to you when you need them to listen, and who can trust you to listen too.”

Simon snickered and scratched his neck. That actually did sound like Wilhelm. Like them. 

But it couldn’t be, for him to have found that person already. It was only his first boyfriend. And that was doomed from the beginning, even without all the things that happened to them.

On the other hand, when they talked about the future, Wilhelm sounded so sure, that whether he became king or not, he would do anything for them to be together, like he could only imagine a future with Simon in it. Like it was either Wilhelm and Simon or Wilhelm and no one at all. 

And Simon wished he could feel as certain.

“Am I… or are we… delusional, for thinking that we can stay together much longer?”

Boris tipped his head a bit. “You don’t think you could?”

Simon shrugged. “I don’t know if we can. I don’t know if anyone can.”

“Why do you think that you can’t?”

“Because nobody does,” Simon stated, like it was a fact. Boris raised an eyebrow.

“Nobody?”

“Well… most people don’t.”

“That might be true. But in your case, why do you think that you wouldn’t be able to stay together?”

“I just… I don’t know if we can work in the long term.”

“Is there any indication right now that you wouldn’t?”

Simon thought long about it.

“Not from us…”

“From others?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mean anyone in specific?”

Simon hesitated. Of course he meant the Royal Court, it was obvious to him, but he worried that saying it made him sound paranoid. For someone who hadn’t dealt with the RC, the answer might sound too strange.  

It was strange to him, too, to try to figure out how the Royal Court played a role in their relationship, and what their true intentions were. He couldn’t even understand how the Royal Court functioned at all. He only ever spoke with Minou, so in his mind she was the embodiment of the RC. He had to constantly remind himself that there were other people behind it, discussing and planning and deciding.

It was even stranger to think that the Queen was a part of it, too. He had yet to see her again, he hadn’t seen her since the jubilee. And yet she had been involved in every decision that pertained to him; being transferred to Forest Ridge, helping him apply to become a boarder, driving him and Wilhelm every weekend to his house, sending him a brand new fencing uniform and equipment, and other upcoming commitments that he knew were a collective decision to make him the most viable match for Wilhelm. Or so he was told. 

And it was strange and definitely not comforting, knowing that the Queen and the RC previously tried to keep them apart. Perhaps they still hoped that, eventually, the relationship would run its course and they’d be free of him. Perhaps they were just humoring them for now.

“Simon?”

Simon looked up, his face hot. He cleared his throat.

“His family. The monarchy. Everyone around us. I think they really would much rather have us not be together.” A tear escaped his eye, scalding on his cheek. He wiped it away brusquely. “And it’s exhausting… to know that. To try to prove them wrong. To try to ignore it.”

“I see.”

Simon sniffed and took a deep breath.

“But also…” he continued, again hesitant, “I worry that… I might be settling for what feels safe and good right now… And I worry that he might be too. I mean, we’re still young, and we might change a lot… and most people don’t settle down or marry their first boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever, especially if they met in school… And it feels like a lot of work and worry for something that might not even last.” He let out a trembling breath. “But I don’t want to say that. I don’t want him to know that I’m thinking that, even thought he might be thinking the same thing, but… what if he isn’t and then I say something that… and I really love him, I do, I’ve never… but… right now… I can’t figure out how we can…”

His lip quivered, and he wiped another stray tear. 

Boris nodded quietly for what felt like a long time. 

“I suppose you’ve heard the phrases ‘for better or worse’ and ‘in sickness and in health’, that sort of thing,” he started. “They are marriage vows that couples say to each other on their wedding. These are promises that people make to each other as they’re about to start a life together. But a lot of people now start their lives together way before a wedding day, which is just a party, a symbolic event with family and friends, that’s all. Some people live together for a long time and later decide to get married; they have learned to coexist, maybe even had children, and they have probably gone through some difficult situations together. And some people don’t even have a wedding ever, but they have already made those promises to each other. It’s not about the wedding, then, is it? Saying the words in front of family and friends is not a guarantee that partners will keep the promise to be there for each other for better or worse. That promise is made through communication and trust and understanding.”

Boris shrugged. “So naturally, many couples and marriages break up, despite saying those vows, because they didn’t figure out how to communicate or support each other when they most needed it. Anyone can be happy together when everything is fine and the waters are calm and there’s smooth sailing. But when the storms hit, that’s when you need to be a team, be there for each other, trust each other, be willing to make sacrifices, to weather that storm together.”

Simon looked down at his hands and chuckled. There was something warm and pleasant in his chest.

I could be free, from all this… I could be free, to be with you…

You say the word, and I’d give it all up…

He didn’t know if he was prepared and willing to put up with the RC and the public scrutiny and every other shitstorm that might still come their way. But if there was one thing that comforted him was knowing that Wilhelm was there for him no matter what. He was fairly certain that, if he wanted to have a future career in music, that Wilhelm would move heaven and earth to make it possible, for him to be allowed. 

And it truly felt like, if he said the word, Wilhelm would drop everything just to be with him.

He wanted that. He wanted to be that source of comfort for Wilhelm too. 

“So… you’re saying that we’re good to get married and everything?” he said, half-jokingly. 

“I’m saying that, if that’s what you both want, when the time comes, you might be quite adequately equipped,” Boris said with a hint of a smile. “The things that you have been through together have been unfairly difficult, and have taken a toll on both. And yes, you’re still young, and still have a lot of growing and changing and learning to do, and I understand that you have doubts. But just because you’re both young and in your first relationship doesn’t mean that you couldn’t already understand the truly important and essential things to make a relationship work in the long term. And if you can be there for each other like you are now, I’d say that you’re better prepared than most couples. And I wouldn’t call that settling at all. I feel that most people would wish they could have that. Someone with whom to safely and trustingly weather any storm.”

Simon wiped another tear from his cheek and nodded.

Notes:

Simon just needs to know that all this stress and anxiety are not for nothing. He needs to know that at least he can trust one person. He needs to know that, even as everyone else seems to be against him, that he at least has someone on his side. He’s been so alone before, and even his mum and his friends didn’t understand him, plus he knew the thing with Marcus was pointless, and on top of that he had yet to find out about Sara betraying him. And it’s hard for him to completely reconcile himself with the idea of trusting Wilhelm now, after what happened in the past. But Boris is here to help.
I’m not entirely sure if Venezuelans actually say ‘empiernados’, but we say it here, and there’s loads of Venezuelans here, so maybe we got it from them, or it’s just a Latino thing… I was too lazy to find out.
Hope this chapter wasn’t too unbearably long. I just love writing banter between Wilmon. Also I love writing Boris. But mostly sleepy, bed banter between these two goobers.

Chapter 21: A royal engagement

Summary:

FutureHC chapter. Wille and Simon’s engagement is announced. Takes place before the other FutureHC chapter, Blue and Gold.

Notes:

Much like the Women’s World Cup little vignette, this is structured as media coverage, no POV. It’s a little break from the rest of the fic, a little glimpse into the future (in this headcanon, at least), as a way for you to know that A) yes I’m a sappy, corny hopeless/hopeful romantic, and B) everything is going to be okay. Because my royal babies deserve to be happy and in love. I’m manifesting (not necessarily the wedding part, the being happy and in love part, whatever that looks like in the end).
TW: for a lot of corniness.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

From The Royal Court’s Media Centre

Official Press Release

Engagement between Crown Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson
24 februari 2027


The Royal House of Sweden proudly announces the engagement of His Royal Highness Crown Prince Wilhelm and Mr. Simon Eriksson at the Royal Palace in Stockholm.
With their families’ blessings, the couple became engaged on Sunday 21 February 2027. 
More details on the upcoming plans will be shared with the public in the coming months. The royal couple will be living in Haga Palace, Stockholm after the nuptials.

Press contacts
Information and Press Department

The Royal Court
Kungl. Slottet
SE-107 70 Stockholm
Telephone: +46 8 402 60 00

Email: [email protected]

 


 

Crown Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson are engaged
by Erik Gonzales, www.dn.se - 24 February 2027, 13:45 

At last, the good news that the people of Sweden have been waiting for: the future king is getting married this year.

On Wednesday, 24 of February, the public was delighted with the news of His Royal Highness Crown Prince Wilhelm and his long-term boyfriend Simon Eriksson’s engagement. An official statement emitted by the Royal Court press office indicated that the couple became engaged this past Sunday, after obtaining the blessings of their respective families.

The statement read, “The Royal House of Sweden proudly announce the engagement of His Royal Highness Crown Prince Wilhelm and Mr. Simon Eriksson at the Royal Palace in Stockholm.”

No more specific details about the nuptials were provided in the statement. However, this morning, the couple greeted the press and the public outside of the Royal Palace to appear for photos and to comment on their engagement, their future plans, and a possible wedding date.

“We are very excited to be taking this next step in our relationship,” HRH Crown Prince Wilhelm said, beaming at the cameras, as he and Simon stood side by side in their coats, holding hands and smiling at each other.

When asked about their future plans, Mr. Eriksson candidly commented: “We look forward to planning our life together, but we value our privacy, so you will just have to wait and see.”

Clearly over the moon, the royal couple were beaming at each other as they posed for photos. They will appear for official engagement photos this afternoon, followed by a live TV interview, the Royal Court press office announced through social media.

The Crown Prince and Simon have been together since they met during their first year at Hillerskaskolan in 2020. After an unfortunate incident involving a viral video scandal, the couple became official when the Crown Prince admitted to his appearance in the video and his relationship with Simon during his speech commemorating the Hillerska jubilee. 

According to the official statement, the royal couple will be relocating to Haga Palace, Stockholm, after the wedding celebrations. 

 

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FULL LIVE TV INTERVIEW - CROWN PRINCE WILHELM AND SIMON ERIKSSON
24 FEBRUARY 2027 - 18:35

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12,350,482 views

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SHOW VIDEO TRANSCRIPT 

00:00
ANNOUNCER: You’re watching SVT1. 
NEWS ANCHOR: In local news, today the Royal House of Sweden announced the engagement of Crown Prince Wilhelm and his long-time partner Simon Eriksson. The royal couple offered a brief press conference this morning outside of the Royal Palace to confirm the news. Our royal correspondent, Lena Sanchez, is interviewing them live from the Royal Palace. Lena, over to you. 
00:27
REPORTER: Hello, and welcome to this special edition of Sweden Today. I am at the Royal Palace with His Royal Highness Crown Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson, who are now engaged to be married. And you might be able to tell by the amount of people celebrating outside the palace today and the overwhelming response on the Internet, that the public is delighted with these news, and we can’t wait to hear more about it. Crown Prince, Simon, thank you for sitting down with me and congratulations on the engagement. 
CROWN PRINCE WILHELM: Thank you very much.
SIMON ERIKSSON: Thank you so much.
R: You both look very happy.
CPW: We are, yes.
SE: Happy and excited. 
01:03
R: I think we all are. Your families must be very excited as well. When did you share the news with them? How long did you wait before you did?
CPW: Well, we got engaged this past Sunday, and we tried to keep it to ourselves for as long as we could, which wasn’t very long, and we shared it with our families and a few friends yesterday. But they already knew that it was happening sooner or later, though, because… well, we’ve been pretty open about it. 
SE: Also, Wilhelm was rather old-fashioned, he called my mother and asked her for her blessing beforehand.
CPW: [LAUGHS ] I did, yes. We had my mother’s blessing, of course, but I needed Linda’s too. 
01:42
R: Simon, did he pop the question or did you?
SE: Well…
CPW: I did. 
SE: We both did, sort of. We’ve been talking about this, discussing what we would like our future to be, and we already knew that this was what we both wanted, and that it would happen soon. So it was only a matter of how we might surprise each other. 
CPW: But technically I did. I asked first. I got to surprise him. 
SE: And I asked again, just to be sure.
CPW: And we both said yes. [LAUGHS]
SE: [LAUGHS]
02:18
R: And were you surprised?
SE: I was, yes. He did it when I least expected it. [LAUGHS]
CPW: Yes, that was my hope, that it would be unexpected, even though we’ve been planning toward it. 
SE: That’s what made it exciting. To still be surprised. 
02:24
R: You’ve been together for almost seven years now, and you met while you were both first years at Hillerskaskolan. How has your relationship evolved since then?
SE: Well, when we first started, we had a lot of difficulties to deal with, a lot of challenges. But… I think those challenges have made us… wiser. 
CPW: I agree. I feel we’ve learned a lot about each other, and from each other. People probably think that we’re a bit young to get married, especially since most people our age are now waiting much longer before getting married, but… we’ve been together for long enough now to know that this is it… there’s no one else for me, at least. 
SE: Oh, same here. I think our relationship has been quite unique, in the sense that I… I never expected to find someone with whom I felt so sure, so comfortable, and… yes, I… [LAUGHS] I used to think it was so over-the-top to say that I’ve found ‘the one’, but… there’s really no one else that I would rather spend the rest of my life with. 
CPW: I used to think that too, but I guess I was wrong. And I feel very lucky.
SE: Yes, you are very lucky. [LAUGHS] 
CPW: [LAUGHS]
SE: I’m joking, I’m very lucky too.
03:56
R: Simon, you’ve mentioned the challenges that you both faced at the beginning of your relationship, when you were still teenagers. We’re not going to go into that, of course. But how about adjusting to being with a member of the royal family and what that entails? Has that been a challenge at all? Are there still some adjustments or challenges to face along the way as you enter this new stage in your relationship?
SE: Yes, of course it’s been a challenge, it’s very different, there are many things that just weren’t a part of my life before, there’s a lot more protocol, and yes, there was a lot of adjusting to it. And I’m guessing that there will be more challenges along the way, not necessarily related to royal protocol, but… however overwhelmed I might feel at any point, because it does get a bit overwhelming at times, especially with the public attention and the media, I know that it’s either temporary or that I will get used to it, and that I’m not alone, and that it’s worthwhile. 
05:07
R: How about the Crown Prince? How have things changed for you and what do you think are some challenges that you’ve faced before that you might still face along the way?
CPW: I agree with Simon, in that one of the most difficult challenges that we’ve faced and continue to face is the media attention, because we both value our privacy a lot, and [SIGH] well, it’s not news why. I guess it’s inevitable in the sense that there will always be media attention and it will become overwhelming at times, but we’ve gotten better at dealing with it, not getting swept up in the storm. It’s not letting it overwhelm us so that we can still enjoy ourselves, still have fun, still be ourselves, and still look forward to the next stages of our relationship.
6:00
R: And what do you both look forward to?
CPW: Well, this might sound very corny, but right now I do look forward to the actual wedding, because I’m excited about it. I remember being a teenager, and thinking about marriage in the future, and it seemed so… surreal, like I couldn’t imagine myself getting married, and now I… I can’t wait. [LAUGHS] But I know it’s not that simple, I know it’s not just [SNAPS FINGERS] and you’re married and that’s it. I know there’s a lot of planning involved, both for the wedding itself and for the future, and it can be overwhelming too, and yet… I’m excited.
SE: [LAUGHS] I agree. Marriage went from being a very abstract idea to being something to look forward to. I guess a big part of it is finding someone with whom it feels right. And yes, the wedding is just one part of it, and it sounds exciting but also I’m already nervous about, but I most look forward to everything that comes after that. Being married and stating a life together.
CPW: That’s a much better answer. Yes, what he said. Although we’ve already started a life together, this right now is part of it, so… continuing that life together.
SE: Good point. We have been sharing a life for a while now. 
07:29
R: This will be an historic event, given that this is the very first time that a same-sex royal wedding will take place, not only in Sweden, but in all of Europe and the world. How do you feel about that?
CPW: Obviously it’s an honor to be a part of that history, and a privilege. But honestly we’re not really thinking about that at the moment, we’re just feeling the same things that any other couple would, which is excited and a little nervous. [LAUGHS]
SE: Yes, nervous definitely about this being such an historic occasion too, which is of course an honor and makes us very proud, but also nervous because we’re just people, and we are embarking on a new adventure and it’s exciting but a bit scary, but we’re confident that we’re prepared for it and that we’ll get through it together. 
CPW: We make a good team. 
08:28
R: Have you any details in mind already? Perhaps when the wedding will take place, at least?
CPW: We are hoping to have a fall wedding. We have other commitments right now, we’re both almost graduating, so we’re not planning anything before that.
R: Do you have a specific date in mind?
SE: We might be aiming for a specific date in either September or October, to commemorate one of two important dates in our history.
CPW: We’re still deciding. 
08:55
R: Will this be a mass event? With all the pomp and circumstance that it deserves?
CPW: Chances are we’ll opt for a small, private wedding. As small as we can make it, at least. We will allow for some media coverage, but we have already established that it won’t be televised. As I said, we both value our privacy a lot, and we prefer some things such as this to still remain private. 
SE: It’s a lot less pressure as well. [LAUGHS]
09:25
R: What about the location? Will it be a more traditional royal wedding at Stockholm Cathedral, or will you plan something different, like an outdoor wedding, or a theme, or going to a special location?
CPW: We haven’t discussed any of that yet. As I said, we’re still busy with our last year in university and we’re looking forward to that right now. So we haven’t figured out anything more.
SE: Yes, I think it’s a bit soon to share any of those details. One thing at a time. You’ll just have to wait and see.
09:58
R: Well, thank you very much for sharing with us the great news and a bit of insight into how it happened. We look forward to getting more details on the upcoming wedding, and congratulations again. 
CPW: Thank you so much.
SE: Thank you. 
10:12
ANCHOR: Congratulations to the happy couple. We will be covering all the details of the upcoming wedding, so make sure to check back with us live and follow us on social media for all the updates. And if you would like to watch the interview again, visit our website, www.svt.se. 
10:52

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COMMENTS - 125k

@taraP0908: “there’s no one else that i would rather spend the rest of my life with” UUGGGH STOP i’m soooo jealoussss and single!!!

@PrinceSimonsLadyinWaiting: aaaah i can’t wait! fall wedding!!! 

@WilhelmIsOurKing: guuuu the crown prince just keeps getting hotter i can’t even i’m so jealous

@KungWilhelm: they’re such a beautiful couple!!! congrats!!!

@minarose55: Erik would be so proud!

@Ebba_2009: did she really almost bring up the sex video??? so disrespectful, get over it. 

@Simonmylove: i don’t know about you, but I feel so single right now #singleaf

@Levi45: there goes my chance at being a prince consort… /jk congrats to the happy couple

Notes:

I am such a dork that I actually timed myself with my phone’s stopwatch whilst reading the ‘transcript’ aloud to get time stamps…
In my headcanon, as long as they are part of the monarchy, Wille and Simon do their best to play their part, fit into their roles, but also advocate a lot for their own privacy, and they’re not shy about the events that have happened in the past. I think as a future king, Wille would do wonders to transform the institution from the inside, and he and Simon use their likability to advocate for the things that they care about. And they don’t want to be a part of the secrecy machinery maintained by the monarchy, but they’re also smart enough to know that the best and most effective way to dismantle that machinery is from the inside.
I’ve always thought it’s absolute bullshit that monarchies still think that they can remain neutral in political matters. Everything is political. To think that saying and doing nothing means that you’re neutral is so delusional. “If you’re silent in the face of oppression, you have chosen the side of the oppressor”. And I think Wille will have understood that, and he’ll be more vocal on matters where staying neutral is not an option.

Chapter 22: The knight

Summary:

Wille and Simon get a visit from the royal tailor, and Wille takes the opportunity to dig for some information.
Wille POV.

Notes:

Happy Halloween! Happy Wilmon Endgame’s Eve! Happy ‘If-tomorrow-we-don’t-get-more-YR3-content-I-will-set-myself-on-fire’ day!
It’s been a gruelling last two weeks, and there’s a crisis going on in my country, and I’m sad and angry, and it’s taken a toll on me, and also I’m supposed to be on vacation tomorrow so I had a lot of work-related stuff to get through… but working on this fic really helps me get through it all.
This turned out so long, again, and I’m so sorry, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
TW: anxiety, panic attacks, reference to trauma, PTSD, harassment, sexual harassment and child pornography reporting.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wilhelm had come to learn a lot of things about Simon over the time he had known him, but more specifically during the last couple of weeks, since they had been together again. 

He learned that Simon liked to be the big spoon. That he sang in the shower when they were at home. That when he hurt himself, he would curse in Spanish. That he had a crush on Poe Dameron from Star Wars (which stung a bit, because Wilhelm looked nothing like Oscar Isaac). That he had appendicitis when he was eleven. That his favorite food was tostones. That he was not a morning person. And that he had always wanted to be a singer.

He also learned things that were a little less obvious to the unobservant; he noticed that Simon bit his lip a lot when he was nervous or anxious; that despite being very outspoken and comfortable singing in front of a crowd, he hated being the center of attention; that the smell of citrus made him smile no matter what; that he hummed when he was happy and carefree (especially after sex); that he took on too much pressure all the time; and that he was the most beautiful person in the world, both inside and outside.

Wilhelm might be a little biased on the last one, but he didn’t care about anyone else’s opinion on it. 

Another thing he learned about Simon is that he questioned everything, either out of curiosity or because he refused to just accept things without explanation. Something that was rubbing off on Wilhelm. 

“Why is it even called ‘personal shopper’? It’s oxymoronic. Like personal assistant. It’s not personal if you’re having someone else do the thing. It would be more accurate to say ‘professional’ shopper or assistant. You’re paying them to do things for you so you don’t have to do them yourself,” Simon asked.

Wilhelm laughed. “Good point. Maybe it’s called ‘personal assistant’ because it’s like an extension of you, because you either can’t do something yourself, or because they probably do a better job at it than you might do yourself,” he countered. 

“But precisely, if you can’t do the tasks yourself, then you hire a professional,” Simon continued to philosophize.

Wilhelm smiled. They sat in Wilhelm’s room, on the spare bed, formerly Simon’s bed, waiting for Minou, who would arrive at any moment with the personal shopper and the tailor. They were supposed to be studying, but Wilhelm was distracted watching Simon, and Simon was just distracted. 

Simon was more than distracted, he was anxious, but trying to hide it; Wilhelm could tell by now. He was still unsure about letting the RC bring him clothes he didn’t ask for, worrying what it entailed.

“What happens to the things that I don’t want to keep? Do they return them or donate them or throw them away?” Simon had asked earlier, between classes. It was like he couldn’t think of anything else all day, and it was Wilhelm’s job to reassure him that of course they’d return the clothes, and of course they wouldn’t throw them away, and of course he wasn’t obligated to keep all of it or even half of it or anything he didn’t like or didn’t feel comfortable with, and that they really really didn’t have to do it at all, they could call Minou and tell her to forget it. 

But Simon kept repeating something about future battles, and so he kept asking random questions every once in a while, like would they even buy him underwear, and would they show up every season with weather-appropriate items. 

And Wilhelm wished Simon wouldn’t worry so much, but he tried to understand what it was like for someone else. Ever since he was old enough to walk, he had been periodically corralled in his room back in Stockholm to try on the clothes that the royal shoppers brought him, and endured endless hours of fitting and tailoring and complaining about itchy fabrics and too tight shoes. When he hit puberty it got worse and he’d need to be fitted for new clothes more often, and his trousers and sleeves could not keep up with his vertiginous growth spurts.

So he knew, and it was insufferable, but he was used to it, like one gets used to needles. And maybe Simon would get used to it too. But he didn’t tell him that, just in case it made things worse. 

“What about stylist? Does that make more sense?” he asked instead.

Simon made a face, and Wilhelm chuckled. “Sorry, too snobbish? I don’t know what else to call it.”

“Never mind. The name is not important.”

Wilhelm put the book down and reached for Simon’s hand. “Want to skip dinner after this? We can order takeout.”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to bribe me? I’m not a child you can trick by offering me ice cream.” 

“I wasn’t bribing you, I was offering comfort,” Wilhelm said, pouting innocently, giving his hand a squeeze. Simon squeezed back and smiled.

“I’ll be fine. As long as you’re here.”

“You know I will be.”

There was a knock on the door. Wilhelm called for whoever it was to come in.

“Let’s get this over with,” Simon muttered under his breath as they both stood up.

Minou greeted them very formally as she walked in, followed by a short young woman with red hair and large shopping bags hanging from her arms, who walked in backwards, pulling a wheeled rack, multiple dark garment bags hanging from it. A bald, gray-bearded man pushed the rack on the other end, and carried more bags, plus a case with all his tailoring tools. 

“Crown Prince, you remember Emma, and Lundqvist, who was here a couple of weeks ago, correct?” Minou said, gesturing to the girl and then to the man. She only used his title when trying to be more formal, probably because of Lundqvist, who worked closely with Jan-Olof. Jan-Olof frowned upon members of the Royal Court calling Wilhelm by his name. “And this is Simon Eriksson.”

Simon shook hands with both Lundqvist and Emma, before Minou ushered him and Wilhelm outside so they could set up. She showed Emma to Simon’s room to put the rest of the clothes that didn’t require altering, for him to pick and choose at his leisure, and brought over his uniform for altering. 

Back in Wilhelm’s room, the desk was covered with measuring tapes, pincushions, scissors, a case full of threads of all colors, needles and a box of buttons. There was a folding screen into the corner, and a stool in front of the mirror. There were trousers and jeans and jackets and dress shirts lying across Wilhelm’s bed. Two of the garment bags lay unzipped on the spare bed, revealing a dark blue suit that he wore to record his ‘apology’ video, and a new grey one.

“Would the Crown Prince please put on his uniform?” Lundqvist asked. Wilhelm sighed and fetched it from his wardrobe, and went behind the screen to change. The uniform still fit, having worn it as recently as the jubilee. But as Minou pointed out over the phone, perhaps Simon would be more comfortable and proactive if they were both being tailored, rather than just him. Wilhelm agreed on the condition that, under no circumstance was Jan-Olof to come in Minou’s place; Simon was clearly more comfortable with her. And so was Wilhelm. 

He got on the stool as Lundqvist put on bracelet with a pincushion. Wilhelm took a deep breath, as Lundqvist started tugging at the shoulders, the sleeves, the cuffs, folding and unfolding, asking him to lift his arms, turn around, turn again, sticking pins here and there. Wilhelm might have been used to this but he hated it anyway. He was sure that normal people didn’t do this on a regular basis. 

“Minimal adjustments to the sleeves and trouser length, everything else is fine,” Lundqvist announced, instructing Wilhelm to face the mirror. 

“Of course it is, it’s been less than a month since last time,” Wilhelm pointed out. 

“The Crown Prince may not notice the minimal changes, but he would be surprised how much he can grow over a short span of time. Teenagers tend to do that,” the tailor said. “Does the Crown Prince feel comfortable? Is he pleased with it?”

In the reflection, Wilhelm caught Simon’s amused smile; it weirded him out when people addressed Wilhelm by his title instead of his name and referred to him in the third person even when talking to him. 

“Try being five and have people do that, it took me a while to figure out they were talking to me,” Wilhelm had said to him once, getting a sympathetic laugh and a pat on the head.

Lundqvist finished, and Wilhelm stepped down and went behind the screen again. The tailer handed him the blue suit.

“Why do I need to get it fitted now? And what about that grey one?”

“Because surely the suit needs many more adjustments,” Minou indicated. “And the grey one is for Simon, actually.”

Wilhelm stopped and glanced over the screen. Simon took a deep, tired and aggravated breath and let it out loudly.

“I’m getting a suit?”

Minou once again looked as pleasant and sweet as ever. 

“Yes, you are. Don’t worry, it complies with your requests. And I’m sorry but this is not up for debate, the Queen stated that you need a suit for special occasions, so we need to have it fitted in time for the event.” 

“What event?” Wilhelm asked, emerging from behind the screen and climbing onto the stool again. He blushed when he noticed Simon’s eyes roaming over his body, appraising the look. Simon blushed and looked away when he realized he had gotten caught.

“The graduation ceremony,” Minou said matter-of factly. 

Wilhelm frowned, as Lundqvist fluttered around him again, tugging at his clothes.  

“Why would I go to the graduation ceremony?” he asked slowly.

“Because your cousin is graduating, and as family, it is only fitting that-”

“What? I’m not-” his throat went dry. “I wasn’t… planning on going to… August’s graduation.”

Minou’s mouth was a thin line.

“As family, you are expected to be there,” she said flatly. 

Wilhelm froze. He tried to rearrange his face and focus on something else. He caught Simon’s gaze in the mirror again, eyes wide, mouth slack. 

He should have known. He should have fucking known

There was no way that he’d attend, no way that he could do it. Who would be there to make him? Would his mother have Minou or Jan-Olof there to make sure that he showed up in his suit and best disposition? 

He was sure that, not only would he be dragged there, but he’d be forced to interact with August, pose for pictures with him, pretend that everything was more than fine, everything was excellent, they got along perfectly…

“Am I also expected to be there?” Simon’s voice didn’t come out as defiant as usual. 

“Well, as you are now the Crown Prince’s partner, you would be expected to accompany him to important events such as this.”

Simon grimaced. “Is that what the protocol dictates?”

“No, no protocol, just conventions. But if you’d prefer to not attend, I’m sure it won’t be a…”

Wilhelm didn’t notice he was breathing harder and faster until he heard his own heartbeat in his ears, loud enough to drown out the conversation. The collar of his shirt felt like a noose around his neck. Fingers reflexively tugged at it. 

“Crown Prince?”

“Hmm?” He snapped out of it.

“We’re all done, you may step down now and change, thank you,” Lundqvist said.

Wilhelm obeyed, trying to stay calm. He caught Simon’s concerned face. 

It was Simon’s turn, as soon as Wilhelm came out from behind the screen in his jeans and sweater.

“You okay?” Simon asked in the quietest voice, when he was close. Wilhelm nodded quickly, too quickly. Simon watched his face for a moment, clearly not believing him. 

“I’m fine. Um… I’ll be fine,” Wilhelm said. He cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back.”

He gave a reassuring smile before walking out of the room. 

Emma had unboxed every pair of shoes and unpacked every item of clothing, until the bed and the desk and the chair and every surface in Simon’s room were covered. She had also set up a garment steamer in the corner by the sink, and proceeded to steam all the tops. Wilhelm stopped in the doorway and stared at the organized mess and walked back out. 

Minou had also left the room, but she was on her phone, as always. He watched her pacing at the far end of the hallway as she spoke. 

He needed to speak to her, needed to pick back up on something he had brought up with her last week. 

Or perhaps she was avoiding him, hoping that he’d let it go and forget all about it. 

But he wouldn’t. He needed to find out as much as he could and as soon as possible, without raising any suspicions. And then they he could work out how to make sure that August didn’t have them pinned anymore. 

Wilhelm took a few deep breaths, until he felt calmer. He went back into his room. 

Simon stood on the stool, looking like he had been turned into a pincushion, from the amount of pins and needles stuck to the back of his burgundy jacket, his sleeves, the trousers. His expression was one of mild mortification. Wilhelm couldn’t not smile. 

“This will require quite a bit of adjustments, but I can assure you you’ll feel much better once the suit fits right,” Lundqvist announced. 

“As long as I don’t feel like I can’t breathe or move,” Simon muttered.

“Not at all, sir, I will make sure you are as comfortable as possible.”

Simon mouthed ‘sure’, arms still raised for fear of getting pricked. Wilhelm tried not to laugh.

“Shall we continue with the suit then?” Lundqvist asked.

Simon contemplated how to get down from the stool whilst covered in sharp objects. Wilhelm rushed forward and held his hands to help him down safely. 

“You okay?” Wilhelm whispered, now that they stood closer. 

“Yeah,” Simon whispered back. 

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

Simon licked his lips, looking up at him. “Are you okay?”

Wilhelm inhaled deeply, when the door opened. 

“Crown Prince, may I speak with you for a moment?” Minou said, poking half her body into the room. Wilhelm gave her a quick nod before turning back to Simon. 

“I’ll be right back… again.”

He followed Minou out to the hallway. She glanced around, checking that they were alone and cleared her throat.

“I was just speaking with the Queen. She was asking how things were going. She’s getting on a flight to Japan at the moment.”

Wilhelm nodded. “Great,” he said flatly. He was pretty sure he had never found out about his mother’s trips directly from his mother, he always heard about it from someone in the RC, and just as she was leaving. 

“And then… I was speaking to Jörgen,” Minou said in a lower voice.

Wilhelm straightened up. “Oh?” Jörgen as in the lawyer who came to Simon’s house?

“I was asking him to confirm some information about the…” she trailed off. “Actually, let’s go in here,” she said, pointing to Simon’s room. 
Wilhelm felt something between trepidation and dread as he followed her. As much as he wanted to know the answer to his question, he also feared what it could be. 

He had first brought up the question only a week ago, whilst he and Minou sat in the clinic, waiting for Simon to come out of the doctor’s office. They were the only two people in the waiting room, Malin standing just outside the door. He glanced around anyway, before speaking.

“Minou, can I ask you something?” he started.

“Yes, Wilhelm?”

He pondered how to bring it up casually. “Was this absolutely necessary?”

“What do you mean?”

“This check-up, these tests, a private sex ed talk. It feels… over the top.”

“We decided that this was a good way to make sure that you two have a healthy relationship. Since neither of you objected, we assumed that you agreed. And it’s always a good idea to get a check-up, and to refresh how to maintain a healthy sex life, wouldn’t you agree too?”

“Easy for you to say,” Wilhelm mumbled. She gave him a rare, friendly smile.

“Well, we’ve made sure that the staff here today are trustworthy, nobody has to find out what happens here.”

“Yep, secrecy above all.”

“Would you rather it be public knowledge?”

Wilhelm shook his head. “It’s fine. Although… sometimes the Royal Court seems to confuse privacy with secrecy.”

Minou didn’t respond. He wondered if he had offended her. 

“Sorry, but… you get why it’s important, right? To know that distinction.”

“Indeed, yes.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. She went back to typing on her phone. 

He cleared his throat. “I have another question.”

“Yes?”

He bit his lip, worried that he was opening a can of worms. 

“Why wasn’t Simon made to sign an NDA? That’s always been how the Royal Court handles things, hasn’t it? Every girl that was with Erik was made to, no matter what. Why not this time? Especially after the video?”

She stared at him, like deciding whether to answer.  

“We thought about it, yes. But… in the end, we decided against it. We didn’t think he’d agree, and we didn’t want to risk making the situation worse. There was also a…” she trailed off, reconsidering again. “I guess we were right. Simon isn’t the kind of person who would act rashly out of spite, is he? He still has some self-preservation instincts, and no interest in gaining attention or fame that way.”

Wilhelm sat with that for a moment, eyes fixed on his shoes. It wasn’t exactly comforting, but it was a sort of relief. He knew that Simon wasn’t like that, but he hadn’t been sure if the RC realized that about him too. 

“I have… another, important question.”

Minou turned to him again.

“What if someone else found out who leaked the video?”

Something dark crossed her face momentarily. Wilhelm cleared his throat. 

“I mean, what if, now that people know I’m in the video, they might be curious again about who did it, and someone does find out?”

She said nothing. 

“You’ve already thought of this?” he asked.

“Of course we have. We must think of everything, contemplate every scenario, come up with preemptive solutions.”

He shook his head slowly, eyes narrowed. “No, you haven’t, because you would have told me. Because I, of all people, should know. Unless…” he stopped and frowned. “Unless you didn’t want me to know because you thought that I would do something with that information.”

Again, Minou didn’t respond. 

“What did you think I would do? Plant clues so someone would figure it out and report it for me?”

“We wanted to be cautious. We thought it was best if you weren’t as involved, at least for now.”

“But that doesn’t help. I still don’t know what to do in that case.” He chose his words carefully. “I mean… that is how I found out. I wasn’t trying to, I was dealing with… everything else… but someone did, someone I know, they dug around and figured it out, and told me. And I confronted him. But when I told mum, she didn’t ask me how I knew, who told me, or if he had confessed…”

He was, of course, August. Wilhelm preferred to avoid saying his name.

“And I suppose you’re not going to tell me who this person is,” Minou asked. There was something in her expression that revealed that she might already know, or at least suspected. She was probably correct in those suspicions. Minou seemed to know everything. 

Wilhelm smirked. “You suppose right. But… they won’t tell anyone, I trust them. The point is, you know someone else could find out the same way… what then? What if it gets out? What if they confront him?” 

“Why are you raising these concerns now?”

A small shrug. “It just occurred to me,” he lied. “Feels like people might be interested, lot of speculation. So, if someone looks for the answer and finds it, and they also find out that the Royal Court is protecting him…”

He wasn’t even stretching it; even after Sara dismissed her police report, he didn’t know if the police might investigate it anyway, or that the renewed interest in the video might prompt them to reopen the investigation (if there was even an investigation in the first place), or that someone else, another sleuth like Felice, might snoop around and find something.

Minou turned another inch toward him. 

“Wilhelm, you need to understand. This has never been about protecting him, because of him. This has truly, honestly been about protecting you. And before you roll your eyes at me, yes, this is about protecting the crown too, but you must understand: you are the Crown. You are the future of this monarchy. When we protect one, we protect both.” 

Wilhelm rolled his eyes anyway. It wasn’t really him they were protecting. It was Crown Prince Wilhelm. It was the ideal of him, this ideal of a person who embodied some bullshit divine birthright. That ideal was once attached to Erik, passed down to him with a title. The title was like a virus, and he was simply its new host. 

Minou looked stern. “This has not been an easy decision. I’m not exactly fond of it,” she continued, her voice lower. “You forget that you asked me to look into his finances, and I let him know that the Queen was taking care of his room and board. He knew what you had done for him. I suppose it was too late by then.”  

He blinked. “That was you?” 

Minou just sighed, a pained look on her face.

Something heavy and asphyxiating settled on Wilhelm’s chest, as he remembered that night, the helplessness, the sickness, the feeling of the room closing in around him, and running…

“It’s not an easy choice, especially for your mother. But the circumstances require it. We all must compromise.”

The whole conversation, he felt suddenly like it wouldn’t have happened under other circumstances. She was being sincere, he believed her. 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” he said quietly. “Despite all the Royal Court’s efforts, someone could still find out. What happens then? What do we do if this comes out anyway?”

“What you want to know is if the Royal Court would continue to protect him.”

“Yes.”

She was silent again, contemplative. “You don’t need to worry about that,” she finally said.

Wilhelm shot her a look. “Yes, I do. If someone comes up to me or Simon and tells us what they’ve found, what are we supposed to do? Cover our ears and hum loudly until they go away?” He shook his head. “You expect me, us, to pretend that everything’s okay, but what do we do if that’s no longer an option? And how is that going to look, if we react like it’s no big deal?”

Her lips were a thin line. 

“I will discuss it in our next meeting. And we will let you know.”

He nodded slowly.  

“Okay, and… if someone already has? If there’s a police report or a school report already? Would you be able to know?”

Minou turned to him again, eyes narrowed. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Wilhelm?”

He shook his head. “I’m just worried… just trying to think ahead too, be strategic, think of all the scenarios.”

She stared at him, like she didn’t completely believe him. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I really don’t want to have to deal with this anymore. I can’t stop thinking about it, and I’m tired. I just want to know what to do.”

She nodded. “As I said, we are doing all of that already. It’s what we do.”

“Then it would be nice if you kept me informed. My mother made a big deal about including me in the meetings, because I need to learn how things are done, and yet…”

Minou nodded. “You’re right. I will let you know as soon as I find something.”

He thanked her, and she turned back to typing on her phone, and he went back to fidgeting as he waited for Simon.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. 

What if they made a big deal of it, and tried to do something? What if they talked to August? Or they found out that it was Felice who told him? What if they found out about Sara? What if her police report hadn’t really gone away?

Minou noticed his fidgeting. 

“Whatever happens, we will work it out. Okay?” She gave him a comforting smile. It surprised him a bit. That was more warmth and reassurance than he was used to getting from anyone in the Royal Court. 

“Okay,” he said. 

And then she was back to business, typing and talking on the phone.

“By the way, the Queen expects you to return to Stockholm for Easter,” she said after ending a call. “She is hoping that you will join us for the meetings that week. We can discuss any questions that you have, as well as your future, and you’d attend a few official events-”

“My future?” Wilhelm interjected.

“Yes, Wilhelm. Your future.”

He gave her a look. “Discuss it or decide it for me?”

“Wilhelm…”

“What do we need to discuss as a collective?”

“Everything. School, sports competitions, summer break, activities, your birthday, graduation, university, marriage, children, everything. You know you don’t exist in a vacuum.”

“No, I exist in chaos,” he mumbled. “And as you might be aware, it’s been a lot of chaos to deal with lately. I don’t know when you expect me to be able to think of these things… perhaps when I was a prisoner in Drottningholm…”

She pretended not to hear that last part. “Well, you need to start thinking about your future as soon as possible, and it would be good for you to discuss things with Simon too.”

“You’re serious? We’ve only been together for two weeks.”

“And we were under the impression that you wished to stay together way beyond that. Hence today’s schedule. So I suggest that you consider what the Royal Court is doing to ensure that you remain together for much longer, and start working these topics into your discussions.”

With that, she turned and stalked off, to find Elisa and send her on a coffee errand to the nearest café. Wilhelm sat there, pouting a little, hunched over in his chair, wishing he were anywhere else, at least until Simon came back. 

Minou’s words had been like a warning shot. 

As they headed back to Hillerska an hour later, his mother began texting him about coming home for Easter, about the celebration, and about participating in RC meetings whilst he was in Stockholm. 

He decided not to mention the fact that he’d heard her say that before only to shut him out, and instead asked if he even had a choice. She replied that it was very important that he started planning his future and looking into university preferences and whether he planned to do military training or not and how it would all fit together and so on and so forth, if he wanted to have a choice.

Nothing in his life felt like his choice. Not the way that the RC was managing his life and Simon’s. Not the fact that he and Simon had just sat through an exclusive anal sex talk. And certainly not the box full of condoms and lube sitting between them in the car. 

If anything were really his choice, he wouldn’t have been dragged into this many shitstorms from the beginning.

He was expected to be the Crown Prince that they already had in mind. It wouldn’t have surprised him if he was encouraged (told) to pick the same path as Erik and enrolling in the navy for an undetermined period of time, or at least expected to do basic military training as his mother had done. There was no avoiding it. 

At least the discussion with Simon later that night, about a possible joined future, had gone well, much better than he expected. For a moment, it felt like maybe he was given a choice, at something real with Simon. 

But it didn’t come without conditinos, or hitches.

The next time he saw Minou was on Sunday; they spoke briefly in the hallway outside of Simon’s new room.

“Would Wednesday afternoon work for both of you? Or after dinner?”

“Either way is fine. Did you give our requests to the shopper?” he asked. Simon had been a bit coy after the whole uniform debacle, but eventually asked Wilhelm if he could be specific about the clothing that the RC got for him, so they put together a list of requests for sustainable and fair labor brands and labels, secondhand when possible, nothing too fancy.

“Yes, Emma was actually very excited about it,” Minou responded. 

Wilhelm nodded. “And… would it be possible to keep the price tags on everything?”

Minou raised an eyebrow. “Why? Is he insisting on paying us back for the clothes?”

“Fuck, Minou, do you have to be a bitch about it?”

As soon as he said it, he felt bad. But Minou looked remorseful too.

“Apologies, it was not my intention to come across that way,” she started. “I simply wouldn’t do that arbitrarily. So if you ask for things to be done differently, I would need to have a reason attached to it. That’s all.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to call you a bitch. Sorry,” he huffed. “He said it would make him feel better to be aware of how much the Royal Court is spending on him. And I don’t think it’s a bad idea. I would like to be more aware of that too, when it’s for me.”

She gave him a small smile. “Fair enough.”

“And I’m serious, if Jan-Olof shows up instead of you, there will be blood. Neither of us will be cool about it.”

“Noted,” she said.

He bit his lip. “Um… did the Royal Court discuss the… the thing we were talking about the other day?”

She hesitated. “Actually, I decided to do some research of my own before bringing it up in a meeting.”

“Oh… um, okay,” Wilhelm said, surprised. He had not expected that.

“I’m verifying something. Hopefully I will have an answer for you soon.”

That was anything but reassuring. Had she found something worrying? Like if Sara’s report still existed, or there was indeed another report? 

What if the Royal Court already knew this and they were planning something?

Whatever it was, he hoped Minou would be sincere. He needed to know. For his peace of mind, he needed to know as much as possible.

The RC was all about protecting Wilhelm, but he had other priorities in mind. 

Sometimes he was sure he had separation anxiety, even before Simon brought it up. 

There was a palpable shift in their dynamic once Simon had his own room. Although Wilhelm was glad to have some of his privacy back, he had already grown used to their previous living arrangements. Now this change would take some adjusting, too. 

But it was nice to be alone, just to be able to think, and write on his journal, and work on his Spanish. Otherwise, Wilhelm couldn’t focus on anything else, his only thought being Simon, Simon, Simon. That’s how it had been since they met. 

Not that he minded. 

On Monday evening, they each retreated to their respective room before dinner. Wilhelm sat in bed, writing on his journal; it had been a hectic weekend (and a hectic week before that), and it admittedly helped to finally dump his thoughts onto paper. 

He had been almost done, when Simon knocked and walked in carefully. 

“You know you don’t have to knock before you come in, don’t you?” Wilhelm asked. 

Simon let out a breathy laugh and shrugged. He leaned against the desk, watching him, patiently waiting, whilst Wilhelm finished writing. 

He closed the notebook with a sigh and put it aside, and gestured for Simon to come sit beside him.

“What’s up?” he asked, before Simon crawled onto his lap instead. 

He felt a jolt of surprise and excitement. Simon paused, giving him a chance to stop him if he wanted. But Wilhelm’s hands landed on the thighs at either side of him, and Simon smirked before leaning down to kiss him. 

A small sound escaped him as he felt Simon’s fingers thread through his hair, air leaving his lungs, every nerve ending afire where Simon touched him, where his curls tickled his forehead, where his knees squeezed Wilhelm’s hips. 

“We, mmm, we have dinner soon,” Wilhelm said, unwillingly extricating his lips from Simon’s. 

“I know,” Simon said, kissing him again, eagerly. Thumbs caressed his neck, before his lips followed, leaving a trail of kisses from the base to the spot just below his earlobe. Wilhelm’s skin was covered in goose bumps. 

“So um… maybe we should…” he started, but trailed off. His hands were on either side of his waist, tingling, wanting to pull him closer. 

“I know…” Simon sighed against his neck, before resuming his ministrations; his lips latched on to the spot where he previously left a hickey.

“I… I take it you’re feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm…” Simon breathed, foreheads pressed together. “I had a pretty good talk with Boris earlier… I’ve kind of been mulling it over.”

“Hmm…” Wilhelm breathed. He was sure he had the stupidest, most love-struck look on his face. Simon laughed and proceeded to finger-comb the hair he had eagerly tousled up. Another thing for the list: Simon’s fixation with Wilhelm’s hair. 

“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Simon said, pulling him into another long, breathless kiss. Wilhelm was in danger of not being able to get up from the bed for a while. 

But he wasn’t going to stop him either.

He chased Simon’s lips when he pulled back, breathing heavily, licking his own lips, hands on Wilhelm’s shoulders.

“Urgh…” Simon groaned, reaching into his pocket, which had started vibrating. He looked down at his phone and a confused frown was immediately etched between his eyebrows. He climbed off of Wilhelm’s lap before he answered.

“Hey,” he said, unenthusiastic, getting up. Wilhelm watched him, worried, until Simon glanced back at him. ‘My dad’, he mouthed. 

‘Oh.’ Wilhelm he heard the faint voice coming from the other end of the line, a male voice. He slid to the edge of the bed, then pointed at himself and then at the door. ‘Do you want me to leave?’ he mouthed back.

Simon shook his head. 

“Fine, um… why are you calling me?” His voice was measured, tense, pacing slowly around the room. “Uh-huh… Okay… okay, um, thanks…” There was a longer pause, Simon’s frown disappearing, replaced by sadness. “Thanks, dad.”

Wilhelm suddenly wished he knew what they were saying. He also knew that, if Simon wanted him to know, he’d tell him. 

“Okay, thank you. I really have to-… I’m fine. Thanks.” Another longer pause. Simon sighed again. “Dad… I would really appreciate it if you don’t call me anymore.”

Ouch. Wilhelm knew enough now about Simon’s relationship with his father, about the family history, to know that Simon had every reason to say that. But it still sounded harsh. 

Simon sat back down, beside Wilhelm, shoulders hunched. “And also please don’t try to contact Sara. Or mum.”

The voice on the other sounded constricted, even if Wilhelm couldn’t make out the words. 

“Well… I hope you’re doing okay yourself… Yeah… maybe….”

The voice said something else. Simon swallowed hard, a trembling breath escaping him. 

“Goodbye, dad.”

He shut off the call, and stared at his phone. 

Wilhelm sat motionless, not knowing what to do.

But he didn’t have to. Simon scooted closer to him, and slumped his body against him. Wilhelm slid an arm around Simon’s shoulders.

“You okay?”

Simon shrugged, let out a long, deep breath. 

“Every time, whether I see him or he calls me, I just feel… so tense. Like I’m always bracing myself for the worst.”

Wilhelm bit his lip. He knew the feeling. Every time he spoke to his mother on the phone, he was as tense as Simon had seemed. 

“I can imagine,” he said quietly. “Do… do you want to talk about it?”

Simon was quiet, before turning his whole body toward him. 

“He said he saw me on the news… and that a nice lady from the royal family called him… I’m guessing he meant the RC, and the nice lady is probably Minou. He thought it was a prank at first but since he’d seen the news, he figured it was real… She asked him to be careful and not talk to the press if they contacted him, and he said he would…

That even if she hadn’t told him, he would never…” 

He said it all between long sighs and pauses, like he was still processing. 

“He said he was really happy for me.”

Wilhelm didn’t know if he should smile, so he just squeezed Simon’s hand. 

“I can tell he’s not well, he’s… he’s not getting help, so he’s not… he kept repeating things, like that he saw me on the news.” 

He blew air out noisily and bit his lip. “I hadn’t spoken to him since last year… since…” He closed his eyes. “He was there. St Lucia night. He came over, uninvited. Sara was so mad. My mum was crying. So he left. And then I didn’t talk to him again because… well, I didn’t want to, but also because I was…” 

Wilhelm nodded, squeezing his hand again. Simon scratched his neck.

“And I just never know what to do or say… I know what he’s like, but… he’s still my dad… But yeah, maybe it is for the best. That I tell him not to contact me again, right?”

Wilhelm ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I… I think you should follow your gut, or your heart, or your instinct…” he said hesitantly.

“Yeah…”

“Do you… are you worried that he might… not follow through?”

“About what? About not talking to the press? Or about not calling anymore?”

“Both, I guess.”

Simon shook his head. “Nah, I think maybe he will.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Simon leaning his head on Wilhelm’s shoulder again.

“There’s always something, isn’t there?” Simon started softly. “It feels like, as soon as I start feeling like everything might be okay, something happens, or something reminds me that…” He sighed. “Chaos.”

Wilhelm sighed too. “I know.”

Even when Wilhelm insisted that they could order takeout, Simon insisted on going to the dining hall after a bit. He kept saying something about facing the music, referring to the stir he had caused the day before in the common room. Wilhelm still didn’t know what it was about, nobody seemed to be talking about it, it wasn’t even in the rumor mill, not yet at least. 

Despite skipping dinner the previous night, there was still a palpable tension as they entered the dining hall. Whatever Wilhelm had interrupted between Vincent and Simon seemed to be a bigger deal than he expected. He sensed Vincent’s gaze following them, felt the uneasy vibe among the older boys. The other end of the table was a different story; the younger boys greeted them, albeit discreetly, and several tried to engage Simon in conversation.

Simon seemed miles away, pushing food absently around his plate. Wilhelm didn’t feel very hungry either. 

“So, um, Felice asked me earlier if we ever want to hang out, that we’re welcome to come to her and Maddie’s room,” he asked later, when they were back in his room, trying to lighten the mood. “Or they could come here? Maddie has a mini projector, we could watch movies.” 

Simon didn’t respond. He sat on the spare bed, leaning against the wall. 

Wilhelm sat next to him, laptop in hand. “We can just stay here, though, or in your room. What do you feel like doing?”

“I’m… that sounds nice, but I’m just… I don’t know if I’m in the mood today,” Simon muttered.

Wilhelm nodded. “Oh, okay. Well, whatever you want. I can… I can leave you alone, if you’d like,” he said, starting to get up from the bed.

That seemed to snap Simon back to reality. “What? Oh, no, no… I meant Felice’s invitation sounds nice, but… maybe some other time? I…”

Wilhelm stopped, one leg out of the bed, until Simon tugged him back to his side. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m still distracted,” he groaned, pulling Wilhelm into a hug. “I meant that I’m not in the mood to hang out with anyone else right now.”

“It’s okay,” Wilhelm said, hugging back. “It was just a suggestion.”

“No, I’d like that, but… maybe on Friday?”

“Okay, I’ll ask her.”

Simon had not let go of him, nosing the underside of Wilhelm’s jaw. Wilhelm felt the urge to pull him into his lap and wrap a blanket around them and cocoon like that until at least the next morning. 

“I was actually going to suggest…” Simon started in a small voice, “that we could maybe… hang out in the common room one of these days…”

Wilhelm’s eyes widened. “What?”

Simon growled. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Wait, you want to hang out in the common room?” he asked, pulling back to look at Simon, who was trying very hard not to grimace.

“I don’t want to hang out in the common room, I just thought maybe we could… as an option…”

“Oh so you don’t want to. So… why suggest it?”

Simon let out a noisy puff of air through his mouth. “Because you used to hang out there. And you’ve stopped. On my account, right?”

Wilhelm shook his head. “It’s literally only been two weeks. Also I’d rather hang out with you. Unless, of course, you want me to give you some time off, you know, before you get sick of me.” He winked, but there was an honest question behind it. 

Simon rolled his eyes, grinning. “Okay, first of all, I won’t get sick of you, but that doesn’t mean that you have to do everything with me, you can hang out without me and I won’t mind. Also…” he stopped and took a deep breath, “maybe I should give the common room a try…”

“I see.”

“I just… I don’t know if I’m going to be able to avoid it for three years.”

Wilhelm smiled endearingly. “It’s really not an obligation. They say it is, because they want to think it’s important, but… who gives a fuck.”

“Still, maybe it wont hurt to try,” Simon added. “And I don’t want you to miss out because of me.”

Wilhelm snorted. “Yeah, right, I’m missing out.”

Simon shrugged and chuckled, burying his face again in Wilhelm’s neck. Wilhelm felt pleasantly warm in his chest. 

“I love you,” he whispered.

Simon looked up at him and smiled that crinkly-eyed smile that made Wilhelm want to move heaven and earth for him.

“I love you too,” Simon whispered back.

“Just admit it, you say we can hang out without each other, but you really want me all to yourself,” Wilhelm teased. 

Simon laughed into his sweater. “I do, I really do.”

“Hmm, I hope you’re working on your separation anxiety.” 

“Yeah, I talked to Boris about it, and he said I’m a lost cause.”

Wilhelm wrapped his arms tighter around him. “What a coincidence, me too.”

Sometimes Wilhelm wondered if he loved Simon more than Simon loved him. 

He wondered, but it didn’t matter. It was enough to be allowed to love him. It was enough to be loved at all. 

He knew that people thought they were too different, not only in their upbringings and the expectations on them, but their personalities and ideas and perspectives. Simon questioned everything, examined everything, rebelled against everything, whilst Wilhelm had a whole machinery behind him, shaping him into the ideal of a future monarch. 

But they were more similar than anyone would ever know. He pictured a Venn diagram, two circles containing everything about them, and where they overlapped; their love of music, their sense of justice, their sense of humor, their ease at just being with each other, and how they could read one another; and they were both fiercely protective of the people they loved, especially of each other. 

It might not be a significant amount of things in that overlapping area, but they were important.

There were also overlapping things that they both wished weren’t there at all; they both knew the feeling of being betrayed by people they had trusted; they were both deeply traumatised; and they both felt lonely and afraid. 

Maybe he didn’t feel lonely anymore, but he was still afraid sometimes.

Thanks to Simon, though, he was beginning to feel braver. 

On Tuesday evening, they gave the common room a go. 

It felt strange to be there again. It had only been two weeks, but it felt much longer. There was something uncomfortably familiar with the place, like going back to the dentist.

“We’ll leave whenever you want,” he whispered to Simon. 

“Okay,” Simon whispered back. “Um… I don’t know why I thought there was a piano in here…”

Wilhelm nodded in appreciation. “Hmm, that would have been nice…”

“I’ll deal with it,” Simon whispered, moving forward.

Wilhelm let Simon pick where to set up. He noticed that the members of the rowing team were missing, still in training, which was a relief. No Vincent and no Nils, but especially no August. 

Except Walter was there.

“Hey, Wille, hey Simon,” Walter said as soon as they came over, and Henry and Lukas looked up from their phones and greeted them too. Simon picked the couch opposite them. 

“Hey, how come you’re not in training?” Wilhelm asked.

“Oh, uh… I’m thinking of quitting rowing…” Walter said dejectedly. “Vincent will probably kick me off the team soon anyway…”

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” Simon muttered. Walter and Wilhelm chuckled.

“Yeah, granted,” Walter said. “It’s been worse since you guys left. Feels like I’m already in the army.”

“Maybe that’s what Vincent’s preparing everyone for,” Lukas suggested. Walter shook his head.

“Not into it. Maybe I should join you guys in fencing.”

“Maybe you should just face facts, Walt, and realize that sports just aren’t your thing,” Henry teased.

They chatted like that for a bit, Walter and Lukas asking them about fencing and Henry trying to get them to talk about anything other than sports, and it was all very amicable and chill and Wilhelm relaxed a bit. 

“So…” Simon leaned forward, “what exactly do you guys usually do here?”

The three boys shrugged. “Um… just hang out?” Lukas said.

“Whatever we want,” Walter said at the same time. 

“Yeah, chill, chat, play games, read… anything. We’ve got cards and chess and board games and billiards. Whatever you feel like doing,” Henry added. “What do you usually do at home after school?”

“I… play video games with my friends,” Simon said. 

“Oh cool. But… you can’t do that here, right? Unless you have laptop or a Switch or something?” 

“Laptop. But I wasn’t using it much for gaming until I moved here,” Simon said. “My friend Ayub set me up with some games. He just got me Monster Hunter.”

Walter’s eyes widened and he went into a whole spiel about it, and they ended up talking about online games for a good five minutes, until Simon said:

“Yeah, well… um… do you want to play?”

Walter’s face lit up, but he nodded demurely. “Yeah, sure.”

Simon announced he’d be right back and left. Wilhelm chuckled, staring after him. Walter was trying to explain to Henry how the game worked, whilst Lukas seemed completely uninterested, and instead asked Wilhelm to play chess with him. 

“So… how are you guys doing? Now that you’ve got separate rooms, I mean,” he asked casually as they set up the board. Wilhelm looked up just as Walter discreetly elbowed Lukas in the ribs.

“Why? Do you want to add that to the gossip about us?” Wilhelm asked with a wry smile. 

“What? No! What? I haven’t- That was Henry,” Lukas retorted, shaking his head.

“Fuck you, Lukas, yes you have,” Henry spat.

“Yeah, but so have you,” Walter pointed out.

“And fuck you too, Walter.”

“Never mind, I suppose you guys have nothing better to do than talk about us,” Wilhelm teased. 

The boys started tripping over each others’ words, clarifying that they had been joking and people misinterpreted what they said ‘that one time’, Wilhelm observing them in mild annoyance but also amused by their blundering and babbling. He paid half attention to them as he made the first move and waited for Lukas to take his turn, but the boys were whisper arguing with each other now. 

“-at this point, anything remotely related to you two is source for-” Henry pointed out.

“-and admit it, you would say anything to get Stella to talk to you-” Lukas said, pointing an accusing finger at Henry.

“-second year girls are the ones doing most of the gossiping, I don’t even-” Walter interjected, holding his hands 

“-and by the way, I think she has a crush on you, although-” Lukas added, gesturing toward Wilhelm. 

“What? Who? Stella? On Wille?” Henry asked, stopping suddenly, eyes slightly wider. 

“No, Britta in second year. Though maybe Stella too, yeah, and also-”

“Isn’t Britta the vice-captain of the fencing team? That’s awkward,” Walter asked. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Henry said, throwing his head back. 

“Dude, you’ve never even had a chance, even if she doesn’t. You. Still. Have. No. Chance. With. Her.” Lukas punctuated each word with a bump of his hand on the table. 

“You have no chance with who?” Simon asked, suddenly reappearing, laptop in hand. The three boys jumped in surprise.

“Stella,” Lukas responded candidly.

“Oh,” Simon said, giving Henry a sympathetic look.

“See? Even Simon agrees that you never stood a chance,” Walter said. 

“Screw you guys,” Henry said.

“And especially not if you have to compete with the fucking crown prince,” Lukas added, earning another elbowing from Walter. Simon looked confused, and Wilhelm rolled his eyes.

“See, this is how you idiots start rumors. You’re assuming she has a crush on me, based on nothing. Now, can we talk about anything else?”

Wilhelm realized he sounded a bit angrier than he intended, his voice coming out loud enough that a few of the boys nearby turned to look.

Simon said nothing. Walter, Henry and Lukas all fell silent too. 

He was sick of people talking about him and Simon, starting rumors, speculating about anything to do with them. He’d heard every stupid gossip about him and Simon, about Felice, about August, about Sara… He knew he shouldn’t care, they were just stupid rumors. But it still bothered him. 

He suddenly wanted to leave.

But as soon as he felt Simon’s hand on his back, like he was asking a silent question, Wilhelm kicked himself mentally and tried to relax his shoulders. He wasn’t about to make this about himself. 

“Your move,” he said to Lukas. He was fine, everything was fine. 

Lukas glanced over at the others before he leaned toward the board. 

“Okay, uh… I’m gonna see if my friend is online to play,” Simon announced, opening his laptop and putting on a headset. He tapped away on the keyboard, and smiled after a moment. “Hey, Ayub,” he said into the microphone.

Henry and Walter quickly sat on either side of Simon, watching over his shoulders as he played, occasionally interjecting in an attempt to help him, whilst Simon spoke quietly to Ayub, fingers tapping on the keyboard. Their faces were lit by the screen’s glow.

Wilhelm glanced over at them a few times, getting distracted enough that Lukas quickly beat him. 

To his chagrin, as they reset the board, he heard an unwelcome voice.

“Wille! Nice to have you back at last,” Vincent announced, slapping him too hard on the back. The third year boys in rowing walked in, looking worn and freshly showered. 

Wilhelm looked up but did not respond. He only acknowledged Nils, who patted his shoulder as he passed. He noticed that August had slunk over into a corner and dropped, exhausted, into a chair. He said nothing and looked at no one. No one else in the room greeted them, like they hadn’t even noticed the newcomers. Vincent berated one of them, about how there was no longer any respect to the seniors.

There was a sudden ‘aww’ from the couch; Simon’s character had been killed. He offered the laptop and headphones to a hesitant Henry.

“Hi, uh, Ayub, right? I’m Henry. Hi… uh, okay, what do I do?” Henry said awkwardly into the microphone.

To his left, Wilhelm could see Vincent looking over at them, irked.

“Is this what we’re doing now here? I’m gone for one evening and this is how the dynamic changes in here?” Vincent said to Nils in a pretend mutter, loud enough for everyone to hear, like a dick. 

Neither of the three boys heard, or pretended not to hear. Simon and Walter were snickering as Henry pressed buttons at random, cursing under his breath and desperately asking Ayub ‘What do I do?! What do I do?!’

Wilhelm tried to ignore Vincent too, ignore everyone, but he wished he was back in his room. 

There was a reason he didn’t want to hang out in the common room anymore, and it didn’t only have to do with Simon. It was having to play along in a room full of people who treated him differently. Everyone was so fake, and he was so tired…

“Hey, you okay?” Lukas asked.

Wilhelm looked up, taken aback. What was his face or body language doing? He sensed Simon turning to look at him too, as soon as he heard that question.

He nodded quickly and stared long and hard at the board, trying to concentrate, trying to flush out all the noise from his mind. 

He had sort of backed himself up into a corner. He had lost his queen, and Lukas, of all people, was about to beat him again. But he could come back from this; he’d have to sacrifice a piece, though.

He reached for his remaining knight and placed it in check position.  

Lukas grinned gleefully as he studied the board. After a brief analysis, he used a pawn to capture Wilhelm’s knight, protecting his own king, and clearing the path for his queen, just in case.

Wilhelm nodded slowly, before glancing up at Lukas. Lukas’s smile faded as soon as he realized what was about to happen. Wilhelm shrugged as he copied the same move; his pawn captured Lukas’s knight, clearing a straight line for his rook toward the black king.

“Checkmate,” he said cooly, and leaned back on the couch. 

Lukas scoffed. “Ugh, I suck at this game.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you almost had me.”

Lukas grumbled and pulled out his phone, signalling that he was done playing. Wilhelm reset the game anyway, but he was done too. Behind him, he heard the string of muttered curses as Walter was getting murdered this time (“Ayub, help!”), Simon and Henry snickering. 

He watched them, until Simon met his eyes. Wilhelm smiled at him.

‘You okay?’ Simon mouthed. 

Again, something in his face or body language must have given him away, because despite mouthing back ‘yeah’, Simon watching him for a moment before giving a tiny nod toward the door. He only had to wait a bit for Walter to lose, before he made a whole show of yawning and stretching, and he told the boys that they’d play again another day, and said goodbye to Ayub on the headphones before shutting the laptop and getting up. Wilhelm got up to follow him out, waving over his shoulder and saying good night. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Simon admitted as they walked down the hallway. Wilhelm put on a smile, hands in his pockets. 

“I’m glad.”

“At least for me,” Simon began. “What about you? You seemed-”

“Hey, Wille, can I talk to you for a second?” Walter called, following them out of the common room. They stopped to wait for him, but Walter glanced awkwardly at Simon. 

“I guess I’ll meet you there,” Simon said to Wilhelm before walking off.

“Um, yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He watched Simon go, and turned toward Walter. “What is it?”

“Um, well… we’re planning Simon’s hazing, because this Friday would be ideal, there’s a party that we could sneak into after. But we guessed he’s probably unfamiliar with what hazing’s like, so we thought we’d tell him, but that kind of ruins the element of surprise, so we thought we’d tell you, and make sure that-”

“No,” Wilhelm cut him off. 

Walter looked disconcerted. “Uh… no? But… it’s tradition-”

Wilhelm felt his pulse accelerating, and shook his head. “No. No, he won’t like that. At all.” 

“But-… it doesn’t have to… I mean, it wouldn’t be so…”

Wilhelm raised an eyebrow. “Bad?”

Walter fidgeted. “I mean… you didn’t mind yours, did you?”

“Of course I did, it was awful,” Wilhelm said. He hadn’t said that out loud before, hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, not even Simon, or Boris. Until now, he had pretty much forgotten about it, almost deleted it from his mind.

“Oh… but… it’s just hazing…” Walter continued, “we all went through it.”

Wilhelm pushed thoughts of panic and darkness and rough arms dragging him and hard cold stone pressed against his face and body and a glass full of spit and harrowing masked figures shining a light in his face and hooting and howling…

“But you weren’t alone, were you? You probably were with all the other first years,” he said, trying to control his breathing. “I was the only one. And so would be Simon.”

“Oh… I hadn’t thought of that…” Walter mused. Wilhelm shook his head. 

“I’m not putting him through that shit.”

“Um… okay, but… what if we promise to make it, like, lighter and simpler? Like, we wouldn’t… rough him up or anything like that… And you’ll be there too-”

“I don’t fucking care. No.” 

“But…” Walter looked around, like he expected someone to be there to back him up. “But it’s… tradition,” he repeated.

Fuck tradition.”

He probably said that very loud, from the look on Walter’s face. Wilhelm sighed.

“Sorry, I’m… I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for asking, though.”

Walter nodded, still disconcerted. “Sure… I get it, but… never mind, we weren’t going to do anything too bad. And no one else at Forest Ridge was going to be involved.”

“Still, no…” Wilhelm repeated. Walter nodded again. 

“Well… okay.”

Wilhelm said good night and turned before he had to continue this conversation. His heart was pounding in his ears.

He stopped outside the door to his room to collect himself. It would be fine. He had a feeling that, if it was up to the first years, they might let the subject go. If anyone else got involved, especially the third years, especially Vincent, he was sure they’d go through with it anyway.

He’d have to warn Simon about it, just in case.

Minou walked into Simon’s room and asked Emma to step out for a bit. She removed a pile of folded clothes from the desk chair and sat down. Wilhelm leaned against the wardrobe. The room smelled like steamed fabric. 

She took a deep breath. “As I was saying, I spoke with Jörgen.”

“Okay.”

“First things first, he and Amanda Hollberg, you’ve probably met her, she’s also one of our lawyers, they will both be ready and available in case a report is made and you or Simon are called in for declarations.”

Wilhelm nodded, face as neutral as he could keep it. Did that mean that there were no reports?

Minou briefed him on the basics of the proceedings for a report, either at the school or the police; that anyone could file one, that school reports were investigated by a contracted agency, and they took a minimum of two-weeks, and that during that period, the person accused in the report would be suspended. That anyone who might have relevant details could be called in for declarations, not just him and Simon as the victims; it could be other classmates, staff members, etc.

Wilhelm’s thoughts landed on Alexander. On all the boys from the Society. Including Vincent, who now had a vendetta against Simon…

“… as confidential as possible, but at that point, anyone called in for information would have to be given some details about the report.”

“Oh, really…”

“That means that anyone who is called in would likely know who is being investigated and for what.”

Wilhelm nodded, trying to look concerned, but that was the least of his worries. 

“…on the severity of the accusations, and depending on the information obtained, the school and the agency would decide if there’s need for a police investigation,” Minou continued. “The same thing happens with a police report. They carry out the investigation, they call in witnesses with useful information, they would definitely bring you and Simon in, and they would obtain as much information as they can, and proof if possible. The presumed perpetrator would be brought in too. And depending on what they find, they would arrest the person. Since this is a child pornography case, an investigation would be carried out immediately.”

Wilhelm gulped. If they had Sara’s report for a whole week passed before she called in to dismiss it, did they really not investigate anything based on what she said, because they were waiting for her to provide more information? Wouldn’t the report still be filed somewhere? 

“… and Simon are minors, your parents would be notified, and a police force specialised on working with children and teenagers would handle the case. They also provide psychological help. Given the public nature of this case, confidentiality is paramount, to safeguard yours and Simon’s privacies as much as possible. In any case, we’d probably find out before any other part of the investigation actually happens.”

Wilhelm felt a cold sweat in the back of his head. “Why?”

“Because both the headmistress and the chief of police would inform the Royal Court if such a report is received regarding a member of the royal family. You. At that point we would see what the report contains, and determine whether we can have a hand in on it.”

“You mean…” Wilhelm started, his mouth dry.

“Try to resolve it out of the public eye.”

He shook his head. “You mean hide it. You mean protect him. Pretend that nothing happened,” he said, voice bitter, but underneath the bitterness there was relief. He really no longer cared what happened with August, he no longer cared if he had to lie about it for the rest of his life, as long as August couldn’t hurt them anymore, as long as Simon was safe. 

“Wilhelm…” Minou squeezed the bridge of her nose and gave him a sympathetic look. “Listen, for now it’s business as usual. If someone comes up to you with information, it would be very helpful if you let me know as soon as possible.”

“You as in you or you as in the Royal Court?”

“Me… us… anyone. Me, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

Wilhelm nodded. “Okay. And in the meantime, how do I respond to the person who has kindly informed me that they’ve found that my own cousin filmed me and Simon through a window and posted it on the Internet?”

Minou’s lips were a thin line. “Tell them as little as possible, tell them that you appreciate it and that you’ll take care of it.”

Wilhelm bit his lip, looking at the floor. 

“I feel obligated to warn you about encouraging anyone to file such a report,” Minou continued, face grim. “Not only do we not want a scandal of this magnitude, and I’m sure you’d agree, but this could have dire consequences for the Royal Court, and also you and Simon and his family.”

You have no idea, he thought.

“I understand,” he said instead. “But I’m also not going to try to stop it. As much as I don’t want another scandal again, I’m not going out of my way to help sweep it under the rug. This time, whatever happens, happens.”

Minou didn’t respond. Perhaps she agreed with him, but she wasn’t about to tell him. He had given her the benefit of the doubt until now, and so far she had not let him down.   

He shuffled on his feet. “I’ll be honest with you, Minou… This whole time, today, everything that you and the Royal Court are doing, it feels like you’re all just… humoring me for now,” he muttered, bitterly. “That at any moment you will all decide to, I don’t know… steer me in a different direction… and maybe even…” Maybe even try to get rid of Simon, he thought, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. 

Minou tried to contain a sigh. She looked tired. 

“I understand why you would feel that way,” she said slowly, “but I promise you that we are on your side.” 

He tried not to sigh too, but she continued. 

“Your mother can see how happy you are now, and your commitment to your role, and that’s all she’s ever hoped for, and she’s very proud of you. And the public response has been generally positive, too, and we look forward to keeping it that way.”

“But… unfortunately, we need to keep August as a spare,” she added. “We need to have a backup plan. Always.”

A backup plan. That’s all August was now. Not a person, a plan B. That’s what Wilhelm was too, when Erik was next in line. Just a reserve.

“Fine,” he responded finally. “But… must you force me to go to his graduation?”

“Nobody’s forcing you, Wilhelm,” she clarified. “But do you see how bad it will look if you don’t? There’s already speculation about your relationship with him, because of what happened at the jubilee. It would help if you at least show up for a bit.”

Wilhelm grimaced. “Fine, I guess I will, but please don’t ask Simon again.”

“Fair enough.” Minou made a note of it on her phone. She looked up at him. “I should warn you that you might run into Jan-Olof, since he’ll be around with Lundqvist for August’s fitting of his graduation uniform and-”

Wilhelm became tense again. “What? Jan-Olof is-… the Royal Court is-”

“Yes. He is the backup, after all.”

Wilhelm shouldn’t be distraught, he shouldn’t care, but he did. 

He was about to say something else, when there was a knock on the door. Emma poked her head in. 

“Excuse me, Crown Prince? Simon is asking for you,” she said.

They both stood up, stony and silent, and followed Emma across the hallway and into the other room, just as Simon emerged from behind the screen and climbed onto the stool. Wilhelm’s mouth fell open, and felt a warm flush rising up his neck and to his ears and cheeks. 

As if Simon could ever get more handsome, it was incredible what a well-fitting suit could do. Simon had been vocally not very fond of grey, but even he had to admit that this particular shade really suited him; the jacket and trousers were slate grey wool, a plain, crisp white shirt underneath, and a burgundy silk tie perfectly knotted at his neck. 

Simon looked at himself in the mirror and bit his lip, as if he was baffled by his own reflection.

“You… look amazing,” Wilhelm blurted out, his face and neck becoming warmer. His boyfriend was always hot, but right now he looked sexy.  

He saw the effect of his words in the pink flush on Simon as well, as he examined himself in the mirror, eyes resolutely on anything but Wilhelm, a little breathy laugh escaping him. 

Lundqvist cleared his throat. “Well, this looks fantastic on you, sir, and I don’t see that we need to make adjustments to it, except a bit of the length of the trousers. How do you feel in it?”

Simon started nodding, a bit more confident. “It feels good. Mmm, maybe a little loose around the waist.”

“Ah, let’s take care of that. Jacket off, please.”

Simon shrugged off the jacket in one sleek move, and Wilhelm was momentarily hypnotized, snapping out only when Lundqvist spoke again as he adjusted the waist of the trousers. 

Wilhelm sat patiently by, as Simon tried on a green tie and a silver tie, but they all agreed on the burgundy. Then Simon went back behind the screen and they repeated the same process with other clothes; Lundqvist made adjustments, whilst Minou commended Emma’s selection, and Wilhelm stared and made Simon blush. 

Once finished, Lundqvist and Emma gathered their things and started rolling out, and Minou discussed when they’d come around again to bring the adjusted pieces. 

“Wilhelm,” she said, just as the others left the room, “anything at all. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

She gave them each a slight nod of her head, and followed the others outside, the door closing with a click. 

Minou’s words were still tumbling and turning in his mind during and after dinner. 

Wilhelm sat on Simon’s desk chair, watching as Simon sorted through the clothes left by Emma. When they came back from dinner, Simon’s face fell at the sight of the piles of clothes and shoes, and let out a comical groan, but decided to at least start going through everything, muttering and grumbling. He started picking through them, examining each item closely before deciding to try it on or not, and placing it either on the ‘yes’ pile, the ‘no’ pile, or the ‘maybe’ pile. 

Wilhelm tried to be helpful, offering his honest opinion when Simon asked for it, but his honest opinion was that every single item looked great on him, and so he wasn’t very helpful at all. 

The amount of clothes Simon was keeping so far did not even add up to a quarter of what Emma had brought. Either he was very selective or still reluctant to accept much of it.

Wilhelm watched as he stared at a thick, dark green knit pullover with golden buttons on the shoulder, before he finally pulled it on, curls bouncing wildly as he poked his head through the neck. He adjusted his hair in the mirror before turning sheepishly toward him.

“What about this?”

Wilhelm smiled and Simon sighed. “Let me guess: you love it.”

“Well, it suits you! And you look so… cuddly.”

Simon tried to hide his smile as he turned to the mirror again. “It’s nice. I might keep it, although it’ll be getting warm soon and who knows when I’ll wear it again.”

“You can wear it here, and I’ll cuddle you,” Wilhelm said, reaching for his hand and pulling him closer, wrapping his arms around his torso. The material felt nice against his face. 

Simon leaned down to kiss the top of his head, and groaned. 

“Why is there so much of it? Is Emma crazy? I thought you said she was bringing a ‘capsule wardrobe’,” he said, making quotation marks with his fingers. Wilhelm shrugged.

“I thought so too. Seems that she got a bit carried away.”

“Did she expect me to keep all of it? It wouldn’t even fit in the closet.”

“No, of course not. But since it’s the first time she shopped for you, she’s probably getting a feel on your style, what you like, you know.”

Simon exhaled loudly. “Maybe I finish this later, or tomorrow. I’m a bit tired. Trying on clothes is exhausting.”

“Oh you poor thing,” Wilhelm hugged him again. Simon ruffled up his hair in response.

“Shut up.”

Simon took off the pullover and hesitated before putting it on the tiny ‘yes’ pile.  

“You really look good in everything,” Wilhelm reassured him. “I know you think I’m biased, but it’s the truth.”

Simon chuckled. “It’s not just about how I look, it’s about functionality and comfort.”

“I know. And yet you can’t help but look good in everything. Especially that suit.”

“So do you,” Simon said, slinking back over and sitting on Wilhelm’s lap and pecking his lips.

“To be fair, you also look reaaaally good without… anything…” Wilhelm whispered, arms snaking around him, kissing Simon’s neck and jaw. Simon squirmed and let out a breathy laugh.

“Wait, no, save that for later…” he started saying, but he wasn’t even trying to stop him, rather throwing back his head further. 

“Nooooo, nooooow,” Wilhelm moaned against his earlobe.

This time Simon pulled away, giggling. “Noooo, because right noooow, the bed is covered in clothes.” He gestured toward it. 

Wilhelm pouted. “We don’t have to use the bed…”

“But also,” Simon interrupted, ears reddening, “we were hanging out in the common room, weren’t we?”

Wilhelm groaned. “Do we have to?”

“We said we’d try it again, so that I can see how I feel about it. How am I supposed to get used to it if I don’t go?” Simon stood up and grabbed his purple hoodie, pulling it on. 

“I commend your effort, but…” Wilhelm sighed, “is it okay then if I don’t come with you? I can’t deal with two nights in a row yet.”

Simon stopped. “Oh.” 

“It’s just… I feel like I need to get used to it again.”

“Oh, well, in that case I’m not going,” Simon said with a small shrug. He pointed at the bed. “We’ll still hanging and sleeping in your room, because this is not going anywhere tonight.”

Wilhelm chuckled, arms crossed. “Wait, wait… I thought you said that we should be able to hang out without each other.”

Simon scoffed. “Yeah, but not if I have to go to the common room by myself. It’s only my second time… no way. Too weird.”

“But you had a nice time playing with Henry and Walter. And Ayub was there, sort of. It won’t be as weird, will it?”

“Nah, it’s fine, I can skip it too. Maybe we’ll go tomorrow.”

Wilhelm nodded slowly. “Yeah, maybe…”

Simon changed his clothes and brushed his teeth and they crossed the hallway to Wilhelm’s room. 

“Is everything okay?” Simon asked as he watched Wilhelm changed. 

Wilhelm didn’t want to not talk about it, but he also didn’t know where to start. 

“I just really don’t want to hang out with anyone else, not today at least…” he said. Simon nodded, climbing onto the bed. 

“Sure.”

Wilhelm was drying off after brushing and washing. 

“Is it because of… the thing about August’s graduation?” Simon asked sheepishly. Wilhelm breathed deeply as he got into bed too.  

“Yeah… um… it’s no big deal… I guess I’ll have to go, but you don’t have to. It’s fine.”

“So you really have to go?”

Wilhelm caught the sympathetic look from Simon. He didn’t want to get into that right now, he didn’t want to think about it. 

“It’s really not a big deal. And… it’s not about that right now.”

He took another deep breath. 

“I talked to Minou.”

Simon searched his face curiously. “About…”

“About what would happen if someone else reported August.”

A tense look crossed Simon’s face. “And…?”

“And… I think we’re safe for now. As long as no one goes snooping around, trying to solve the case.”

“Oh, okay,” Simon mumbled. “So there’s no report… yet?”

Wilhelm told him everything that Minou told him, from how the investigation would go, to the fact that she didn’t mention an existing report, to what would happen to August, to Minou’s warning. 

“Whatever happens, they’ll try to bury it. So… if we can figure out how to get the pills from him, then we might be fine,” he said.

“Yeah, that would be good,” Simon replied. “But then… if we did, would you… you still wouldn’t report him?”

Wilhelm let out a long sigh. “No… Minou was very emphatic about it. About how the scandal would affect us all.”

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.”

Wilhelm bit his lip. “A part of me really hopes that someone does, though. Like… I really wanted you to be able to do it… But if someone else did it, if they took care of it for us, I guess I wouldn’t mind…”

“Yeah…”

“It doesn’t matter… I just want… to not have to deal with this anymore,” he whispered.

His mind drifted to the jubilee, to August walking around like nothing had happened, like they all didn’t know what he had done, and posing for photos with his family, with him, smiling, standing up proudly to do the speech… 

He thought of that morning in the field, August being a smug asshole until Wilhelm pointed a gun at him…

At least he had to commend his cousin on something; that even as he had a gun pointing at his head, he did not betray Sara. 

But… why Wilhelm? Why had August been able to betray him?

“Hey,” Simon’s hand was caressing his cheek and jaw, and Wilhelm realized that his eyes we full of tears. He blinked, and his vision blurred, and he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. 

“Sorry, I just…” he choked out. 

“It’s okay.”

“I’m so fucking… I don’t want to see him anymore, you know? I just want him to fucking graduate and go away and never have to see him again… But also, it’s not fair… I wish… I don’t want to know what I know… I don’t want him to know what he knows…”

Simon pulled him to his chest, and stroked his back. Wilhelm clutched at the front of his t-shirt, at his arms, breathing heavily, sniffling, but he felt better as soon as he was fitted against Simon.  

“I get how you feel,” Simon started, fingers combing through his hair. “As much as I would like to get back at him… but I thought about it so much… I talked about it with Rosh and Ayub too… and we agreed that maybe it’s better to just leave it. It’s not worth all the consequences…”

Wilhelm pulled back, holding on to Simon’s hand, playing with his fingers, interlacing and unlocking them. It hurt, to hear the resignation in Simon’s voice, to be in this situation, to have to join in on the farce. 

Simon cleared his throat.

“I… I talked to Boris about it on our first session. Not with those details, of course, but I wanted to find a way to deal with it. I told him about the video, and how it felt to be… exposed like that, and I realized that I’m… afraid all the time, of something like that happening again, of being alone and-”

“I’m not leaving you alone ag-”

“I know, I know. I’m not afraid of that, not anymore… But there are so many other things out of our control, and that’s what I’m most afraid of. That someone whom we trust might do something… or that eventually someone will find a way to split us apart, again, no matter how much we try to protect each other.”

Wilhelm nodded slowly, squeezing Simon’s hand. “Yeah…”

“So I get it.”

With a sigh, Wilhelm leaned his head on Simon’s shoulder, and Simon put an arm around Wilhelm’s back and held him. 

“Thanks for finding out,” said Simon quietly. 

Wilhelm lifted his head and looked into Simon’s eyes.

“We’re going to work this out. We know what we have to do, now we just need to figure out how to do it.”
Simon nodded, pecking him on the lips and smiling. They turned off the light and shed their tops and lay down, and Wilhelm rested his head on Simon’s chest. It wasn’t late, but they were both exhausted.

“You know,” Simon started, playing with Wilhelm’s hair, “I was telling Boris that… I feel like I’m always helping people, rescuing them, and they keep taking advantage of me. Knight in shining armor complex, at least that’s what Sara called it once… ironically. So I’m working on that, on setting boundaries and… not letting it get me down.”

“Mmm,” Wilhelm hummed, hearing the reverberation of Simon’s voice through the ear pressed to his chest. 

“I guess I just don’t know who to trust anymore, except you… and Rosh and Ayub… I mean, even my mum doesn’t know anything about the drugs, and I hope that she never does, but… it’s so hard, to keep things from her, it’s so hard to only have three people whom I can trust, and burdening them with knowing these things.” Simon sighed, his chest rising and falling slower. “It will be nice once I don’t have all these things weighing on my mind.”

Wilhelm tilted his head up to look at him. 

“I could be… the person who takes all that weigh off your mind… I want to be that for you,” he said. “I could be your knight in shining armor… just like you’ve been for me.” He buried his face in Simon’s chest, feeling himself blush. “Mrrggh, sorry, that was sooo corny…”

Simon smiled his crinkly-eyed smile and kissed his forehead. “Yes, it was, but I don’t mind. And… you already are,” he whispered. Fingers combed through his hair, soothing. 

“For the record, you don’t need much rescuing, you do a pretty good job of saving yourself,” Wilhelm added. Simon chuckled.

“I try. But… it’s nice to get caught sometimes.”

“I will catch you… Always…”

”You are so corny. I love you.”

”I love you too…”

The soothing massage to his head, the gentle rocking effect of the rise and fall of Simon’s chest, had almost managed to lull him to sleep, despite the worries swirling in his mind. 

A sudden thought wrenched him back to consciousness.

“Wait… did you say that… Rosh and Ayub… do they know?” he asked, looking up again. “About the drugs?”

Simon lay very still, tense. He bit his lip before answering.

“Yeah… I shouldn’t have told them, but… I- I trust them. They won’t tell anyone.”

Wilhelm propped himself up onto his elbow and shook his head. “Oh, no, no, I get it, and I believe you. And… yeah…” He stopped, trying to get his thoughts in order. “But… maybe…”

Simon sat up. “What?”

“Okay, this is going to sound stupid…” Wilhelm began tentatively.

“But…?”

“But maybe my heist movie plot idea is not so crazy after all.”

Simon frowned, confused. “What?”

Wilhelm was too tired and sleepy now to think straight, and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. But there was him and Simon, and Sara if she was willing, and perhaps Rosh and Ayub too, and somewhere in there, an idea was starting to take shape. 

“There’s no way we can’t talk about it here,” he said, shaking his head, “but… do you think we can talk to them this weekend?”

“To Ayub and Rosh? Um… yeah, sure.”

“Then… maybe we’ll have a plan,” Wilhelm said, a small smile on the corner of his lips. 

Notes:

The plot thickens again…
My favorite thing to write has quickly become Minou treating Wilhelm as an adult sometimes and like an absolute child at others. I kind of want to see Wilhelm interact with anyone other than Jan-Olof, because in the second season it very much felt like no one in the Royal Court gives a shit about Wilhelm as a person, but my guess is there must be someone…
Bear in mind that I’m absolutely not a gamer (my only reference is watching my nephew play occasionally), so I have no idea if a) Monster Watch is a good game or how it’s played, b) whether you can play it on a regular laptop, or c) anything else about any other game, really, so I had to do a bit of research, but decided not to put too much time into it, so forgive me if it doesn’t make sense.
Also, I’m not much of a chess player, and definitely not a chess strategist, so I had to do a bit of research to come up with a play that makes sense, and it might not seem interesting in the moment, but there are some instances in YR where chess played a role in foreshadowing the plot, so I decided to use it as a metaphor. For what? I guess you’ll have to keep reading to find out.
Thank you for reading!

Chapter 23: Lightning

Summary:

Wilhelm and Simon try socializing in the Forest Ridge common room, and Wilhelm confides in a fellow housemate.
Nils POV. 

Notes:

The Nils POV has been in the works since the moment I started this fic. I have so many headcanons. I have a feeling that he will play an important role in season 3. If not, he’s definitely playing an important one here.
TW: sex dreams, description of sexual acts, substance use and abuse, descriptions of post-traumatic stress disorder, trauma, anxiety, stress, mentions of the sex video, mentions of death and grief.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Vincent muttered, stopping outside the common room. Nils had been looking at his phone and bumped into his back. 

“What?” he asked. 

“The socialist is here again.”

“Ah,” Nils said, peeking inside. Sure enough, Simon Eriksson sat on one of the couches, Henry and Walter on one side, Wilhelm on the other. 

“Well, you told him that he needed to be a part of the house,” he said, strolling in. Vincent followed. 

“I didn’t think he’d listen. We’ve seen how he is,” he stated under his breath, making a beeline for two armchairs occupied by second years. “Move,” he commanded, and the two boys groaned and started collecting the cards they had been playing. “Faster,” Vincent added.

Nils chuckled, watching them scramble to get out of the way. That was the privilege of being a third year, having priority for anything. Since the rowing team was training longer and harder for an upcoming competition, once again against Sprucewood, by the time they joined their housemates in the common room, everyone had already picked their spot, and the billiards table was always taken now. It didn’t matter much, though, Nils was too tired lately to do much. Despite the hard work and dedication to get into really good shape, he had never trained so hard, and never felt so exhausted.

“In that case, I think he’s doing it to spite you,” he said, settling onto the vacant chair. Vincent leaned back and glanced over at Simon again.

“Obviously, and he’s bringing some bad influences with him.”

Nils glanced over. The boys on the couch were huddled around a laptop again, Walter wearing a headset and playing a game whilst the others watched over his shoulders and offered help. 

Video games were not a thing in the Forest Ridge common room, since someone brought a console and a VR headset a few years back, which ended with the television getting smashed, and video game consoles were banned. It was also deemed to ‘discourage interactions between the house members’. Simon probably had no idea he was rebelling, so it surprised Nils that Vincent wasn’t making a bigger deal out of it. 

August and Pär came in, and Nils pointed and smirked at Pär, to which the other responded with a sour face. They had made a bet on whether Simon would ever set foot in there, especially after what happened between him and Vincent. Whatever persuaded him to come back, Pär lost and now owed Nils money. 

August glanced quickly at the couch and made his way to the furthest corner of the room, and sat down on the bay window bench and pulled out his phone. He looked worse for wear. 

Vincent scoffed and shook his head, following him with his eyes. “He’s been really weird lately.”

Nils agreed, but he didn’t want to get into it. There was something about August’s behavior lately that he didn’t want to pry into. If he wanted to talk about it, seek the support of his friends, then he was welcome too. 

Though he probably didn’t want to have anything to do with Vincent. There wasn’t as much animosity between them as there was at the beginning, but Vincent was still Vincent, and no doubt that August was still not too happy with the way that things had gone down, and the way that Vincent was handling things, and therefore still not too happy to have to follow Vincent’s lead. Which was pretty much the consensus around the house, but nobody was bothered enough to do anything about it.

But August was guarded even with Nils.

“Question:” Nils started, looking curiously at Vincent, “why didn’t you punish him for the way he spoke to you that day?”

Vincent frowned. “The way he spoke when? August barely speaks to me now.”

“No, not August. Simon,” Nils clarified. “When you were showing him around the house.”

Vincent’s face fell. “Oh, well,” he leaned back in his chair, “I decided to give him a second chance. After all, I should have expected this behavior from him. But this is his one and only chance.”

“Wow, how merciful of you,” Nils said sardonically, eyebrows raised. That was an obvious lie, Vincent spared no one any mercy when they got even a little smart with him, least if they went head to head with him the way Simon had. Nils was sure that it had nothing to do with kindness or mercy, but with Vincent not wanting to cross Wilhelm. He might be just another power hungry asshole who took every opportunity to put others down, but strategic enough to know that it was convenient to remain in good terms with the crown prince.

“Krille and Gustav said that everything’s ready for tomorrow, if we want to go over it and check if we need anything else,” Vincent added, checking his phone. 

Nils nodded, but said nothing, grumbling to himself. Tomorrow. Yet another party tomorrow. Building up to graduation, the third years were organizing a party practically every other weekend. He was done with parties at Hillerska. They were just an excuse to drunkenly hook up with someone. Not something that Nils particularly looked forward to. 

He resorted to pretend to get drunk just so that people would leave him alone, or he’d actually get drunk enough to pass the time. Anything to ignore the people around him, get out of inane conversations, and imagine himself somewhere far away, doing something completely different. 

The last time he had gotten too drunk, he had spoken too much. Twice.

Which resulted in coming out to two different people. Once on purpose (sort of), and then by accident. On the same night. 

It was the weekend back from Christmas break, during the third years’ first party; he decided on a whim to reveal his sexuality to Wilhelm. 

No, it hadn’t been completely on a whim. It had actually been going around in his mind, the idea that maybe he’d tell Wilhelm about it. Because the thing that was on the video that was now viral had clearly not been a one-time thing, judging from the way that the crown prince had been just before the Christmas break, and confirmed by the kicked puppy-face as he watched Simon walk off and get into some guy’s car.

Not just some guy. That guy Marcus, with whom he had coincidentally almost hooked up once. 

Nils just went for it. “I’ll hook you up, just let me know,” he vaguely remembered saying, or something along those lines, before going back into the party. Fuck bouncer duty. He was too buzzed to stand around and do nothing. 

And yet he had gotten fed up with the party and ended up outside again, around the back of the palatset, with Madison McCoy. Some of the first year Manor house girls hadn’t managed to sneak into the party, especially not after what Sara Eriksson had done as part of her hazing ceremony, so they were all drinking outside, hanging out and smoking with the third years. Nils mused about how cute it was that the girls’ ‘hazing’ consisted of making the initiated wear funny costumes and do silly dares, whilst boys were put through the wringer in weird displays of socially-accepted sadism and torture, and Madison compared it to the almost cult-like fraternity houses traditions in American universities. 

It was easy to feign interest in Madison, since she clearly had no interest in him either. She was easygoing and didn’t tell him to fuck off, and for his part he was harmless. All he needed was to keep a nice balance between being mildly annoying to her and being endearing, and she would simply roll her eyes at him and put up with his teasing, and it would all seem playful and flirty to others. But nothing would happen. That’s why he gravitated toward her. 

But that night, neither had even been in the mood to pretend. Maddie cut him off as he started playing with one of her braids, asking if they could cut the bullshit and just hang out instead of trying to make something happen. 

“Easy, no worries, not even into girls…” he blurted out. 

It took him a full ten seconds to realize what he had said. 

He turned, eyes glazed, toward her, and noticed her staring at him, face blank, like she was waiting for him to say something else.

“Um… ha ha, I mean…” His mind was a muddled mess. She continued to stare blankly.

He sobered up. A quick glance around confirmed that, luckily, no one around them had overheard. 

“Yeah… uh… please don’t tell anyone,” he said. 

She shook her head. “No worries. I wouldn’t.”

There was a beat. He felt a bit sick, but it was still too early to bolt. 

“Thanks…” he managed to say. 

She gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… I already kind of knew.”

“Oh,” he said. “What-… what gave it away?” 

Madison shook her head again, slowly. “Nothing in particular. I’m just… perceptive.” 

She might have been lying, for his benefit, but Nils was too drunk to tell. 

“Well, okay…” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for being cool.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” she said in an exaggerated sing-song New York accent. “You’ll be gone by June and won’t have to deal with this bullshit anymore. And I won’t have to deal with you.”

“Ha ha,” he said flatly, rolling his eyes. 

After a bit, he still didn’t feel better, so she told him to play along. They made sure that people saw them leaving together. But once they were a safe distance from the palatset, they split ways, her off to Manor house and him to Forest Ridge. 

He felt better as soon as he was alone in his room. He took off most of his clothes and got into bed and wanked for a bit before he fell asleep with his hand down his pants. 

The next morning he had a hangover. It wasn’t only the alcohol, it was the memory of what he had said and done, feeling sick as it came back to him in a sort of haze. 

Just when he had started to feel normal again.

When the video happened, he felt sick for a while, almost too sick to function. 

When he finally brought it up during an appointment, Boris indicated that it was the result of trauma. 

It hadn’t occurred to him that something like that could affect him so deeply. 

That night, he stood around with Pär and Krille, bored out of their minds, listening to parents and teachers chatting mindlessly about the holidays and school, when every phone in the room started pinging. Little gasps of surprise and shock escaped the students, as they huddled over their screens. 

His own phone pinged. He retrieved it from his pocket, just as Vincent came over.

“Shit, have you seen this?” he said. 

Nils had received the same link from six different contacts. He clicked one of them, but Vincent was already shoving his own phone in his face. A video was playing. 

An unmistakable floppy-haired boy naked in bed, with another boy, whose face was in full display. Simon Eriksson. 

The video title read: Swedish Crown Prince Sextape.

Nils felt the air leaving his lungs.

It was Wilhelm. It was Wilhelm, and it was Simon, and someone had filmed them through Wilhelm’s dorm room window, and the video had thousands of views already.

“Fuck, it’s becoming viral as we speak,” Vincent was saying, pointing as the view counter grew by the second. “Wonder when this happened? And who fucking recorded it?”

Nils wasn’t listening. His heart was beating faster, louder in his ears. He tucked his phone back into his pocket, and kept his trembling hand in there. He looked around. 

Wilhelm and Simon were gone. Whilst everyone was looking at the video, the two people featured in it had disappeared. Everyone was too distracted staring at their phones and whispering, to look for them.

Nils didn’t know what to do, or why he was looking for them. For Wilhelm. 

He looked out the window by pure chance, and spotted him outside, Wilhelm with his personal security huddled over him. He seemed to have collapsed on the steps, the ones leading up to the building that the St Lucia procession had walked up a little while ago. Nils watched as Malin placed a hand on Wilhelm’s back and supported him with her other, as he heaved into the bushes, the wreath falling off his head. Joakim quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around Wilhelm’s shoulders, before they helped him back to his feet and half-carried him away.

Nils stepped back. He needed to get the fuck out of there. 

The phones pinging and people murmuring were too much. He hurried toward the door, and bumped into a paper-white August.

“Uh, your-… mmh, your cousin just left,” Nils managed to say. August gave a little nod, eyes darting around. Suddenly everyone was staring at him. 

Nils didn’t stay to see if August was interrogated by the curious onlookers. He saw the teachers huddled, he saw the headmistress and Boris rush out ahead of him. 

He needed to leave, he needed fresh air, cold air. His legs felt a bit like jelly, and it felt like his guts had disappeared. 

Nobody had known. Nobody had any idea. And now the whole world knew.

As he headed for the door, he passed the hallway to the right, where the bathrooms were located. Felice, Maddie and Sara stood outside one of the bathrooms, in their white gowns, Sara still with the St Lucia crown on her head. They looked rather ghostly in the pale light flooding out the open door.

“Where’s Wille…?” asked a strangled voice from inside the bathroom. Simon. Someone spoke to him in Spanish, presumably his mum. 

“I couldn’t find him, I’m sorry,” Felice responded. “Maybe he was taken away…”

Maddie’s eyes drifted over to Nils. He walked off, pushing the door open.

There was no one around outside. He made his way slowly toward Forest Ridge, without paying attention to where he was going, pure habit leading the way. He only stopped once he was outside the house, collecting himself. The cold December air filled his lungs, but his head refused to become clearer. 

He thought about smoking a joint for a bit; nobody would catch him, nobody was around, nobody was paying attention to anything else at the moment. But he didn’t want to push his luck.

The building felt empty as he walked in and down the hallway in a daze. He spotted the group of people huddled outside Wilhelm’s open door; Joakim, Göran, Boris. Nils walked past and up the stairs to his room. 

Once inside, he shed his jacket and searched his pockets for his cigarette case and lighter. Pushing the window open, he tried fruitlessly to light a joint, uncooperative trembling fingers flicking at the lighter to no avail. He gave up and tossed them onto the bed and paced around. 

It felt like ants were crawling under his skin, like his very bones were itching. He tried sitting or laying down, but he’d spring back to his feet immediately. Every muscle hurt, his chest tight and constricted; he stretched and stretched, trying to breathe deeply, but found no comfort. Finally he kicked off his shoes and trousers and yanked off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt and lay on the floor. He wanted to claw his face off. 

He stayed there for about twenty minutes before he stood up and tried again, clicking at the lighter until it worked. He took a long drag of the joint and concentrated on how it would hit him soon, how he’d feel calmer soon. Anything to relax. His room would smell like pot, and he might get caught, but he didn’t care. The cold December air filtered into his room through the open window. 

“That sounds like you might have had a panic attack,” Boris said.

“Really?” Nils asked. It hadn’t been the first time he had felt like that, but it was the first time he described it to someone. He brought it up with Boris the following Monday. Boris asked him to describe how he had felt, and Nils realized that he’d experienced several panic attacks during his life and had no idea about it.  

“How do you feel now?” Boris asked.

“Um…” Angry. Scared. Still nauseated. “Better, I guess.”

Boris nodded, but said nothing. Nils sighed. 

“I suppose I feel… a bit… afraid… and helpless.”

“What do you mean ‘helpless’?”

Nils shrugged and stared down at his steaming tea. “I guess… I wish I could… do something. You know… it’s like…” It’s like what? Like the worst thing that could happen to someone? He didn’t really want to think that. It wasn’t the worst thing, but it was pretty bad. 

“It feels… like it happened to me. Even if it didn’t.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “No, that’s stupid.”

“No, Nils, it’s not stupid. And it wouldn’t be odd for you to feel this way either,” Boris replied, leaning forward. “Something like this can be very traumatic, even if it’s not happening to you. It’s an empathic reaction. And naturally, you are frightened of something similar happening to you.”

“Yeah…” Nils said.

“Nobody deserves to be outed, especially not in such a public way. Everyone should get to decide when or if they come out, and to whom.”

Nils nodded. They had spoken many times about this particular subject, about why he preferred not to come out, and why he sometimes felt the need to justify it.

Why should he have to come out? It’s a ridiculous, outdated concept. Straight people don’t ever need to confirm that they’re straight, because heterosexuality continues to be the default. It’s not fair, but he’s not about to become an activist in trying to change that. He has other goals in life, and it’s still too much of a big issue, and he would rather not have to deal with that.

“Deal with what?” Boris had asked the first time. 

Nils sighed, like it was obvious. “You know, the… consequences.”

“What consequences do you expect there might be?”

Nils thought of his family, of their expectations of him, of his own expectations of himself, of the way that people saw him. The fact was that he was still… different. People perceived him as different. He was already brown in a predominantly white country, he didn’t need to add another minority to his identity. Not if he at least could hide this one. 

He didn’t want to be anything like Simon Eriksson. Granted, Simon was talented, handsome, outspoken, self-confident. But nobody cared about that; all everyone saw was a brown-skinned, working class, immigrant, gay kid. Nothing more.

And Nils… he wouldn’t be much different.

It would become the only thing he’d be known for. And he didn’t want that. 

“Let me ask you this, Nils,” Boris started: “if you didn’t have to worry about these consequences, or care what anyone thought, or what they would know you as, would you still prefer not to come out?”

Nils tried to imagine that, imagine telling anyone in his Hillerska circle, in his family, being comfortably out. He knew that Vincent and August probably knew, probably had figured it out, but they never talked about it, he had never told them, and he couldn’t for the life of him ever imagine himself confirming it. 

“I don’t know. I… maybe not.”

“That is your decision,” Boris responded. “Perhaps somewhere down the line you might change your mind, and decide to come out to people that you trust. And if you never do, that is okay too.”

“It is a difficult decision to make, and an unfair amount of pressure to place on a person, especially on young people. Because once you are out, you cannot take it back. So it’s important that you feel safe and comfortable with whatever you decide,” he added.

Nils agreed. He felt comfortable with his decision. For now, at least.

And yet he thought about it every single day. 

It was inevitable, when everyone around him was either straight or pretending to be, when everyone was hooking up left and right, where heterosexuality was the norm and everybody was expected to subscribe to it. Even girls, who maybe didn’t get the same amount of pressure to maintain a straight façade all the time, and were allowed to ‘experiment’, and be a bit more touchy-feely with their girlfriends, and it was okay. But ultimately, they too were expected to fit the norm. 

So Nils had to conform, and he had to be careful. No problem. That’s what talking to Boris was for. 

“However, it might help you to find someone with whom you can talk about these questions, outside of this office. Someone who might understand,” Boris had said to him on one occasion. “I can only help you so much to try to understand how you feel, how to work through these feelings. But having someone on whom you can confide, someone who might be in a similar position to yours, might be more helpful.”

Nils nodded, knowing full well that it was unlikely.

Of course he didn’t think he was the only queer guy in the school, of course he assumed there were others. But nobody was out, nobody was confirmed, other than Simon. 

He had no one with whom to be frank. 

(He did have one friend, an English socialite and Eton boy who was a friend of the family, with whom he had taken his first trip to Verbier. But it wasn’t the same. They didn’t really talk about things, they didn’t have that kind of friendship.)

Now there was Wilhelm. His housemate, his teammate, the cousin of one of his closest friends. And so now there was a possibility.

It felt risky, though. That boy was like a vortex for scandal. 

“Perhaps it would help you feel better if you talk to him. Offer your support. Let him know that he can talk to you. Maybe it would help reassure you if you know that he’s okay,” Boris suggested. “It’s your decision.” 

Nils nodded, but he wasn’t planning to confide in anyone, or be anyone’s confidant. Least of all the crown prince of Sweden.

And then he did. On a fucking, drunken whim. 

When the video leaked, nobody saw Wilhelm all weekend, and he skipped class on Monday. So did Simon. Only Sara’s friends approached her when she showed up, to ask her about it. (According to Fredrika, Sara and Simon were possibly transferring to another school by next term.)

When the Queen showed up, though, there was a commotion in the house. No one actually saw her, but they saw the two cars, and the intimidating amount of security surrounding Forest Ridge that evening. Everyone stayed away for as long as she was there.

It made the magnitude of the video even more undeniable. She hadn’t been there to drop Wilhelm off when he first enrolled, or for Parents’s Weekend, or the night before for the St Lucia procession. But she was there at the drop of a hat when another scandal broke.

Nils listened to the theories and hypotheses of his classmates, partook in the discussion, acted normal. Mostly he wanted to escape to his room and disappear, a bit like Wilhelm. Not see anyone for a while.

Only August had seen Wilhelm since, brought him a couple of meals and talked to him for a bit.

“Did you know he was gay?” Vincent asked August. He had sat next to the then prefect, who was slouched on the common room couch looking like he had a massive headache. For all they knew, he probably did. After all, it wasn’t just Vincent asking him stupid questions all day long. 

“Well, the video doesn’t automatically mean he’s gay, he could be-” Nils interjected casually, and Vincent rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine, no need to get technical. I mean, did you know he wasn’t straight?” 

August bit his lip before he slowly shook his head.

“Eh, no… no, I had no idea.”

“Do you think he might have told you? If, you know, he hadn’t been outed.”

August let out a long sigh. “I don’t know… Maybe not. We’re not exactly… like-” he stopped talking, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Do you think Erik knew?” Vincent asked now, after a beat. 

Nils noticed the look that crossed August’s face, a pained look, like he had a stomachache. It was probably a lot to deal with. Nils hadn’t seen August look so ill since Erik’s death, or since he had first arrived at Hillerska, shortly after his father’s passing.

“I don’t know,” August said softly.

Maybe it was too hard to talk about it right now. At least Vincent seemed to take the hint, and the three of them sat in silence, on their phones. 

Nils wondered what Erik would have done in that moment, what he would say. 

A part of him also wondered if Erik had known about him too. 

Wilhelm coming out eventually was… Nils didn’t know how he felt about that.

Even if he didn’t label himself, Wilhelm had basically stood at a podium and let the world know he was queer. 

So now the world was aware that the crown prince was in a relationship with a boy, and everyone assumed it meant he was gay or bi or pan or one of the other letters. 

This was the exact opposite of what Nils had advised him to do.

So he hadn’t spoken to Wilhelm again about it since. 

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to approach him from the start, perhaps the prince wasn’t interested in his advice, or his help, or anything he might have to offer. And there was definitely nothing that Nils could offer that would be helpful in this situation. 

What Nils really wanted to know, what he was curious about, was… what had been Wilhelm’s plan, if the video hadn’t happened? How was that relationship going to be sustainable, if he had to keep it a secret?

Because as Wilhelm himself had told him, Simon didn’t like being a secret. 

On the other hand, as far as he knew, the Royal Family really liked secrets.

And yet Wilhelm hadn’t seemed interested in the prospect of Verbier either, when Nils suggested it. He had laughed about it, although he hadn’t said no. But he had also not said yes. 

Clearly that was not what he was looking for. 

Wilhelm seemed to be… in love. With the socialist. In love enough to announce it to the whole world, apparently. In love enough to risk a lot of backlash. Like a fucking fairy tale prince.

Not that there were many opportunities for them to talk since. They weren’t teammates anymore, and as Vincent had accurately pointed out, Wilhelm hadn’t set foot in the common room since the jubilee, and Simon hadn’t set foot in there ever. Plus, they seemed to be avoiding Vincent like the plague, especially since the ‘prefect official tour incident’, so they ended up avoiding Nils by association. 

It had been surprising when they were there on Tuesday night, casually hanging out with their fellow first years. When they didn’t show up the next day, the general assumption was that Tuesday night had been a one time thing and now they were back to their antisocial habits. It might have had something to do with that Royal Court lady fluttering around the building with two other people, but once she left, they still didn’t show up. 

But they came back on Thursday evening, to the same spot, with the same group. Like nothing.

Wilhelm and Lukas were teaching Simon how to play chess, whilst Walter was on Simon’s laptop playing and muttering into a headset. Two second year boys drifted over and leaned onto the back of the couch, watching the screen over his shoulders. 

Vincent scoffed, indignant. “At the risk of sounding like a twat, video games are so passé.”

Nils chuckled, in agreement with both of those statements, though.

“So, tomorrow morning, we check it out?” Vincent said. Nils had almost lost track of what they had been talking about.

“Oh yeah, yeah, sure,” he said. Tomorrow was the party, so Vincent had to approve of all the arrangements. Usually it would be August, and Vincent and Nils, and sometimes Pär would tag along. “Should we tell August?” he asked.

Vincent made a face and shrugged. “If you want. Don’t expect him to come, though. He’s like in another place right now.”

Nils nodded. Vincent had done nothing but complain about August’s attitude lately, and Nils just went with it. He was too tired and out of it to try to resolve it. 

He glanced down at his phone and tried to drown out the sounds around him. Mainly the two boys behind the couch trying to guide Walter through the game, and Walter arguing into the headset, and Lukas and Wilhelm debating about chess whilst Simon asked questions, and the clacking of the billiards balls and triumphant exclamations of the players, and the low murmur of the rest of the room. 

“Hey, keep it down, over there,” Vincent said, pointing at the couch. The second year boys looked over, but Walter paid no mind. The boys playing billiards felt alluded to and also lowered their voices.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nils saw Wilhelm standing up.

“Oh, I thought we were playing together,” he heard Simon ask. Wilhelm chuckled.

“Pfff, you don’t need me to beat Lukas, even if it’s your first time,” he responded, and Lukas made a face.

“Heeeey…”

“I’ll be a minute.”

Nils’s eyes fell back to his screen, scrolling through his Instagram, when he felt someone standing in front of him. He looked up at Wilhelm.

“Hey Nils,” he said with a small smile. 

“Hey,” Nils responded nonchalantly.

“Could we… talk real quick?”

Nils nodded, and followed Wilhelm out of the room. He could feel both Vincent and August watching them. They stopped just outside the doorway. 

Wilhelm shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall. 

“Um… So, the first years are planning to haze Simon,” he started.

Nils nodded. Interesting, he thought. He already knew what Wilhelm was going to say next.

“I already told them no, because I know that Simon won’t like it,” Wilhelm said, as he predicted. 

Nils let out a small scoff. “But it’s just a tradition.”

Wilhelm let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Who fucking cares…” 

Nils also rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, so Simon is not doing anything that is tradition. He’s rebelling against all of them.”

“I don’t know, it’s his decision. I just know that this is one that he’ll definitely not be a part of, and that’s fine with me. But… I know that the guys are still planning it.”

Yes, they were, and Nils knew because he had overheard Henry and Walter and Lukas talking about it, and he’d heard Walter report to them that Wilhelm had said no hazing, and he’d overheard them trying to convince Alexander to be the one to talk Wilhelm into it, and he’d seen Alexander’s discomfort and refusal, and he’d overheard Henry and Walter talking about sneaking into the third years’ party on Friday. They were going to have to up the security at the door. They wouldn’t want a repeat of the beginning of term.

“Okay, so… what are you going to do?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “Nothing. Just… he’s not doing it. And I’m not going to try convince him to do it either. Henry and Lukas and the others can fuck off.”

Nils nodded, still confused. “So… what did you want from me?”

Wilhelm bit his lip and glanced around. 

“What happens if he doesn’t do the hazing?”

Nils chuckled. 

“What do you mean ‘what happens’?”

“I mean… does something happen? At all?”

“Does he get kicked out of the house or something?” Nils chuckled again. “Nah. I mean… they’ll probably give him a hard time for a while, but… there’s not, like, a punishment or anything. Like I said, it’s just a tradition.”

Wilhelm laughed. “Yeah.”

Nils thought about it for a moment. “Well, to be honest, I have no idea, I don’t think this has happened before.”

“Never?”

“Nope. Not recently, at least. Even August went through it, and his father had died a couple of months before, so for a bit Erik thought about not putting him through that.”

“Oh… right…”

“Yeah, in the end he still did it because he didn’t want August to feel like he was being treated different, just because he started later, and he didn’t get to do the hazing with the rest of us. Kind of like you when you got here. But Erik did make sure that his hazing was a bit… gentler. It was just for tradition, after all.”

Wilhelm’s eyes darkened a bit. 

“It’s just that… I know Simon won’t like it. I mean… I didn’t like it, so I know he definitely won’t.”

Nils gave a sympathetic shrug. “Nobody likes it. It’s just… part of it.” He thought about it, about how he felt during his own hazing ceremony. It had been humiliating, but at least he hadn’t been the only one doing it. 

He also vividly remembered August saying “no mercy for the prince” before they staged a kidnapping, gagged and dragged Wilhelm out of his room and across the school grounds, the boy writhing in terror. He remembered being one of the two responsible for tying up Wilhelm to the statue… No mercy…

“Look, I wouldn’t worry too much about it, it’s just a stupid tradition,” he finally said. Wilhelm nodded, crossing his arms. 

“Okay. Thanks.”

He hesitated, like he was about to say something else, but he wrapped his arms tighter around himself. 

“Can I ask you something?” Nils started instead. 

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you ask August about this?”

Something crossed Wilhelm’s face, eyes averting his. 

“We’re not… on speaking terms,” he stated simply.

Nils nodded. He knew that something had been going on for a while, but he pretended not to know.

“Is it because you quit the team?”

“Yeah,” Wilhelm responded quickly. 

Nils knew that wasn’t true. He knew it has something to do with the jubilee speech, and even before that. Wilhelm had been defying August since they got back from break. Hell, he had encouraged Vincent to convince everyone to vote August out as prefect. Nils had also voted against August, even in the rowing team. Though Vincent wasn‘t much better in either role. 

Wilhelm sighed. “Also,” he started again, after a beat, “I guess… I trust you? Because of… you know… And I suppose you trust me, since you told me too.”

Nils felt a drop in the pit of his stomach. 

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah.”

Wilhelm glanced around again, like he was making sure no one was around. “I guess I never thanked you for… for what you tried to do for me,” he said in a much lower voice, and gave Nils a half-smile. “Even though I didn’t… follow your advice. But I am grateful. I just…”

Nils looked around too, but more because he didn’t want to meet Wilhelm’s eyes. He listened, nodding thoughtfully.

“I get why you don’t want to… but… that’s not for me,” Wilhelm continued, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “I couldn’t deal with it. I mean, I still have to conform to some stuff, and he has to deal with a lot of stuff, we both do, but… it feels… right. And I don’t regret it.”

Nils nodded again, a bit more vigorously, but said nothing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, through the doorway, he caught Simon glancing up from the chess board and looking at him. He didn’t look away immediately. Nils did. 

“Anyway, thanks again,” Wilhelm added, standing up straight. 

“Sure,” Nils finally answered.

Wilhelm walked in first, joining Simon again on the couch, and laughing as he analyzed the board, and Simon asked ‘how am I doing?’ and Lukas grumbled into his fists in response.

Nils hesitated by the door.

“Walter, can’t you keep it the fuck down?” Vincent suddenly exclaimed. Walter and most of the first years and the two second years hanging on the back of the couch jumped. 

“Sorry,” Walter said, rolling his eyes. “Ayub’s giving me instructions on how to get through this part, but it’s not working!” he said pointedly into the microphone. “Yes, I am hitting it repeatedly-”

Vincent threw up his arms. “Who the fuck is Ayub?”

“Simon’s friend,” Walter replied, matter-of-factly, pointing at the headset. Vincent groaned loudly and made a whole show of looking around in disbelief. 

“Oh great, they’re infiltrating,” he grumbled, eyes falling on Simon, who ignored him. Wilhelm, however, fixed Vincent with a glare. 

“That’s Vincent,” muttered Walter after a beat.

“What?” Vincent asked.

“Nothing, Ayub was asking who was that dick that kept interrupting,” Walter replied, trying to keep a straight face. 

The prefect was not amused, and Walter was assigned dishes for the rest of the week, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it. 

Nils didn’t go back into the common room. He continued down the hallway toward the stairs and headed up to his room. 

There was another reason why he hadn’t spoken to Wilhelm since the jubilee. 

He had watched the video again. 

Of course he had. Multiple times in fact.

After the initial horror had worn off, and enough time had passed (January, just before the start of term), curiosity had gotten the best of him. The original link was gone, deleted, but the video still existed on the Internet. Nothing every disappeared completely from the Internet. 

So it was only a matter of time before it made the rounds again on social media. And then he had watched it, over and over again.

It was only sixteen seconds long. And it wasn’t exactly the hottest thing out there. But there was something about watching someone he knew, that made him feel both sick and curious. It felt wrong, intrusive. It was watching two naked people who had no idea they were being watched. It was voyeurism. 

And maybe that’s what made it hot. 

Everyone knew it was Wilhelm, of course it was Wilhelm. He might have denied it on an interview, and he might have cut his hair during the break, but it was unmistakably him, in his room, with Simon beneath him.

But after the jubilee, everything changed again. The video hit different.

Nils felt a strange stab of bitterness. Maybe it was directed at the way that everyone reacted, like it was a dirty scandal, for someone to reveal that they were queer, for them to own up to a sex video, to be publicly in a relationship with someone of the same gender. 

Or maybe it was aimed at Wilhelm, for his speech. For basically stating that he was above remaining secret, above staying closeted.

Still, Nils had looked as unamused as some of his classmates, and most of the parents, at the spectacle, at the incessant flash of cameras and the confusion as the ceremony was unceremoniously cut short, and at the commotion as security surrounded the royal family and evacuated the press, at the headmistress and teachers as they started herding all the students inside, dismissing them like nothing was going on.

He had to endure the hushed conversations and gossiping around him for days. 

Even his friend from Eton texted him, asking if that prince from the speech was the same guy that he had been planning to bring to Verbier on Easter, and was the plan still a go, and Nils answered that he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t think about that right now.

He didn’t want to think about it right now. 

Then he had a dream. 

The day after Wilhelm came back from Stockholm, it was still all anyone could talk about, and in the morning Simon was there, having breakfast in the dining hall, clearly having spent the night, and the gossips were having a field day. Everyone was talking about Wilhelm and Simon getting into the black car and coming back with a royal entourage to accommodate Simon into Forest Ridge. Into Wilhelm’s room.

After rowing practice, he, Vincent and August had met in the palatset to decide whether they would still have the post-jubilee party, now that the prince was back; neither August nor Nils had been very helpful at deciding. Vincent had already declared that they would, saying that they’d be graduating soon, and that they were supposed to take any opportunity to party until then, which might have been what finished cementing Nils’s aversion to parties. 

As soon as they returned to the house, Nils excused himself to go to bed, saying he felt under the weather. He snuck into the second years’ bathroom to smoke weed, and then headed back to his room. 

Sleep evaded him for a while, even after getting high. Maybe it was an effect of the weed, or maybe it was just bound to happen.

He had sex dreams regularly, often memories of sex with men during trips, but sometimes reimagining where or how it happened. 

It started out like most, with a tall, blue-eyed young Swiss man, his first time in Verbier, going down on him, and Nils threw his head back and moaned with pleasure, fingers threading through dark hair. When he looked down, instead of the Swiss man, it was the prince kneeling between his legs, pretty brown eyes looking up at him, pink lips around his cock…

Nils’s hands continued to tug lightly, encouraging, as Wilhelm sucked him off, hands on his thighs. He stopped, pulled off and wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him until he came. Nils squirmed, hands bunching up the sheets underneath him. He leaned down and cupped Wilhelm’s face and kissed him long and hard and breathless…

He woke up, looking around disoriented. Pants sticky with his own cum. It took him a couple of minutes to realize it had been a dream, a strange, empty, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, embarrassed and confused. 

He had done his own research before, and casually asked Boris one time about it, if it was common to have wet dreams, and to even ejaculate in his sleep during one of them. Thankfully Boris confirmed what was on the Internet, that there was nothing wrong with it, and it was a pretty normal, physiological reaction to subconscious sexual stimuli. 

But despite knowing this, he still felt strange. 

Nils had never dream-fucked anyone he hadn’t actually had sex with in real life. And he didn’t fantasize about any of the boys at Hillerska, rarely any of them struck his fancy anyway. Not even Simon, the only actually out guy in the school. And it wasn’t that he didn’t Simon attractive; Nils would be lying if he said he didn’t check him out repeatedly in the locker room. But Simon wasn’t Nils’s type; he wasn’t into skinny, tan-skinned twinks. Especially not one that was annoyingly taller than him. 

As a short guy in Sweden, he had his pick of tall, lean, fair-skinned blonds. He usually got with much better-looking and interesting guys during trips and parties abroad. He had been with all kinds of guys.

It wasn’t the only time, either. It became like a recurring dream. 

No matter how the dream started out, it always ended up with Wilhelm. Undressing him, doing all sorts of things to each other, in every position…

It felt wrong.  

The dream or fantasy wasn’t always completely sexual, though. Sometimes that was even worse.

In one dream, it skipped between memories of Verbier, party instances, wild sex, and strange scenes of his family, of friends being there too, which they never had been. Then it was morning and he was in bed, waking up after presumably a night of sex, only to discover that the person in bed with him was Wilhelm. 

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he rolled onto his side to face the prince sleeping beside him, all freckled milky-white skin, and Nils leaned over him to wake him up with a kiss, warm brown eyes fluttering open, smiling up at him. 

And then he woke up. 

He wanted it to stop. He didn’t know what it meant. He only knew that it felt strange and unsettling.

That was why he hand’t spoken to Wilhelm, barely even exchanged glances with him, for the past couple of weeks. 

He might have said some weird stuff to Simon, though, the night of the party, when he encountered him in the bathroom whilst he was getting high, although he couldn’t for the life of him remember what he said. But now, every time he ran into Simon, the younger boy regarded him with something akin to hostility. Nils was left to wonder if he had accidentally revealed something during that conversation, or if Simon could somehow see into his mind.

“I’ve been dreaming about… someone in specific… about… having sex with them…” he said, finally bringing it up with Boris during his Monday appointment. Boris wasn’t a sex therapist, but he was the closest thing Nils could ask for in the moment. 

“Is this person someone that you know?”

Nils nodded hesitantly, explaining how it started. He thought about not revealing exactly who it was, but it was too obvious. Who else could he be referring to? There wasn’t anyone else in the school who had been publicly outed, and whose life position made it very difficult for them to be out, and who had come out anyway. It was also difficult to explain why it was so unsettling to dream about them this way.

“And you’re wondering if it means that you have feelings for him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think you might have feelings for him?”

“No,” he stated, but he didn’t actually sound too sure. He had never thought of it. “Sure, he’s… attractive, and he’s… I like him, he’s nice and we get along. But… I don’t want that. I’m not interested in that with anyone, least of all with him. He’s a prince, and… he’s too idealistic.”

“Idealistic how?”

“Well… he doesn’t really care about the implications of being such a public figure and being out. It’s like he just wants to be… in love.” 

“And you don’t want that.”

Nils fell silent.

“Not right now,” he said tentatively. “And definitely not with him.”

Boris leaned back and tapped his thumbs together. 

“Are you sure?”

He fell silent again. No, he didn’t want to be in love; love was a luxury that he couldn’t afford himself right now, when there was too much at stake. And no, he didn’t want to be in love with a young, idealistic prince. 

“Maybe at some point in my life, yeah…” he finally said. “Much later, ideally.”

“When would that ideal point in your life be?”

Nils tried to picture himself in the short and long-term future, accomplishing things, being well-known and successful, and wondering what else he might want. Did he want a long-time partner? A family? All of that plus a successful career? It all sounded… unrealistic.

“You can’t control your feelings, Nils. You can control how you act on them, sure. But trying to control them, trying to fight against them, might be more detrimental than you think. Perhaps your subconscious is telling you something about yourself, and these dreams are manifesting a deep desire within you.” He lifted a hand for clarification. “And I don’t mean necessarily wishing to have sexual intercourse with this one specific person.”

Nils rubbed his face with both hands and sighed. Boris cleared his throat.

“Let me put it this way. Try to ignore all the social implications, complications, the reality, the preconceptions that you have… if you can objectively think about it as a concept… is there some part of you that wishes you could be with him?”

Nils thought about it. He thought about how he felt when Wilhelm first arrived at the school, at seeing him in rowing practice, in the common room, in the dining hall, interacting with him, seeing him naked in the locker rooms…

But all those things were before he knew that Wilhelm was not straight. 

It changed when the video came out. And it didn’t only have to do with the fact that the sixteen second video was now embedded in his mind, or that he kept seeing flashes of his dreams in front of his eyes even when he was awake.

It had to do with the fact that Wilhelm himself had changed. Slowly but steadily. Not necessarily in a good way.

And Nils wondered how he hadn’t noticed before. That when Wilhelm came back after Erik had died, it was like the light had gone from his eyes. Then it came back… For someone whose whole world had crumbled, he seemed lighter, happier than expected. 

When the video happened, the light was gone again. 

Then the new term started, and everyone acted like nothing had happened, even though that was all anyone could talk about. They acted like the video had been a one time thing. And Wilhelm had come back, different hair, inexplicably taller, and looking worn. Like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. The light was still gone, but now there was also tension in the air, buzzing around him, like static. Like a storm was coming, and lightning was about to strike.

That’s probably what had prompted Nils to talk to him. He had felt so emboldened, to reveal that part of himself to one person. Casually, of course, no big deal, liquid courage coursing through his veins. It would be cool, nothing to be ashamed of. It hadn’t been a conscious, premeditated decision, but in that moment, he had inexplicably put himself in the path of lightning, like he had wanted to feel something. Not for Wilhelm, necessarily. But something, anything. Empathy, commiseration, company, solace. 

It just so happened that Wilhelm looked exactly like the type of guys Nils liked to have sex with. Not the sixteen year old child with floppy dark blond hair who first arrived at Hillerska, and who appeared on the video. But the taller, more mature-looking, short-haired prince that came back from break. 

So of course he was confused. Did he want to be Wilhelm’s friend, or did he want to fuck him?

Even if he had, even if he was attracted to him or just wanted to get laid, he didn’t want the other things, though. He didn’t want the feelings or the commitment or the attention or anything that came as a package with the crown prince. He didn’t know what he wanted but it wasn’t that. It was too messy, too complicated.

“I don’t know. I guess it changes…? I… I don’t know… we’re not the only ones in Hillerska either, I’m sure, but maybe I’ll never know of anyone else. Nobody talks about these things, everyone keeps to themselves. And we think we do a pretty good job at hiding it, but… maybe we’re just fooling ourselves.”

He thought of Maddie, and how she said she already knew, and he thought of Vincent and August and how they might know but never speak of it, and he thought of Simon, who looked at him with distrust, like he knew something.

“But maybe it’s because he’s the first person who’s kind of actively fighting against that instead of just trying to fit in,” he continued. “I’d call it having no self-preservation instincts, he’d probably call it something else. And I don’t know if maybe that’s what… makes all the difference… maybe that’s why it’s… confusing. Like, it’s interesting… to know someone like that.”

Boris nodded. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that you have feelings for him,” he said. 

“Okay. Good.”

“Perhaps it means that you are unconsciously hoping for something like what he has, or what he represents,” Boris said now. Nils blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“Perhaps… you long for something more meaningful, like a relationship. To not have to hide. To be with someone and not feel like it needs to be a secret.”

Nils stared, in silence, gripping the arms of the chair like he would fall over if he didn’t.

“It’s not easy hiding a part of yourself whilst everyone else gets to be free to be who they are, and free to be with whom they want, as publicly as you want and without fear of repercussions or shame,” Boris added. “Perhaps what you’re experiencing in these dreams is simply wishful thinking.”

“I’m not saying that you should come out, now or in the future. That is your decision. And as I’ve said before, whatever you choose should be what makes you feel safe and comfortable,” he continued. “However, there will still be things, experiences, that you might yearn for and feel that you can’t have because of that. You can’t have it both ways, unfortunately.”

Nils’s grip on the arms of the chair loosened, as he nodded in understanding. 

“So I just… deal with it?”

Boris offered a sympathetic smile. “Maybe we continue to work on it, until we find a happy medium,” he said.

Nils nodded after a moment, and let out a heavy sigh. 

They finished the session, and Nils thanked him. Boris stood up to walk with him to the door, and let in his next appointment. 

Nils opened the door and nearly groaned. Simon Eriksson was leaning against the wall, waiting; he straightened up, but the expectant look on his face vanished.

“See you next time, Nils,” Boris said, smiling. “Come in, Simon.”

As they passed each other, Nils wondered if Boris’s office was small enough that someone standing outside might hear everything. He was also filled with the ridiculous notion that Simon could hear his thoughts. He also felt a sudden urge to throw Simon off a high place.

He walked off, but stopped as soon as the door closed, and listened. Boris and Simon’s voices sounded muffled. 

Nils rolled his eyes and headed back to the library. He dropped a book off at his locker, then sat with Pär and Vincent at one of the tables. 

“Hey, where’ve you been?” Pär asked.

“Therapy,” Nils answered. Over time he found that it was best to be honest about; not only did he feel no shame about it, but also there were never followup questions to it. As predicted, neither Pär nor Vincent said anything and continued their conversation. 

Across the room, Wilhelm sat with Felice and Madison, talking and smiling. Felice was showing him something on her phone, and Wilhelm laughed.

Nils stared at him. Maybe Boris was right, maybe his dreams had nothing to do with actual feelings for a person. Maybe he just longed for something. 

Maybe if he focused on that hard enough, the dreams would stop. 

As if that would change anything. 

His eyes drifted over and met Madison’s. He hadn’t realized she had been watching him. Maddie looked at him, then at Wilhelm, then back at him. Like she had made a connection there. Another mind-reader.

He looked back at his friends and tried to get involved in the conversation. But his mind was miles away. 

He didn’t know how he felt about Madison knowing, how he felt about anyone knowing. And he didn’t know how he felt about her assuming something about him. But after a moment, he realized he didn’t mind so much. 

Maybe he felt… seen. In a good way. Like there was one less person for whom he had to perform. 

Notes:

So Simon was not completely wrong about Nils, but he was also not completely right. It is my headcanon that Nils doesn’t have romantic feelings for Wilhelm, buuuut he wouldn’t mind climbing that if given the opportunity.
I really like reading about dreams, and the meaning and symbolism in dreams. I’ve been looking into the meaning of having sex dreams as an acespec person, and whilst doing that research I read about all kinds of sex dreams, and it gave me the idea for part of this chapter. At first I thought the whole recurring sex dream idea was maybe too farfetched, until I read more about it. Also, I recently started watching Sex Education, and coincidentally there’s an episode (spoiler alert for anyone who hasn’t watched it) in which Otis’s girlfriend Ola starts having a recurring dream in which she kisses her friend Lily, and that’s how she realizes that she’s pansexual.
Even Wille himself is having a sex dream during the opening of season 2 of Young Royals. So maybe it’s more common than I thought. Or maybe it’s just a really useful plot point.
In any case, sex dreams are pretty normal and common and it’s really interesting how they can provide a lot of insight into our own psyche.
There are so many sources on the Internet, but this one felt very appropriate for this case, and it’s only the first result that comes up when I search ‘sex dreams’, from Allure.com:
-Sex Dreams About a Platonic Friend: Sex dreams run on the forbidden. Michael Friedman, a sleep specialist and otolaryngologist says this is why we are more likely to have sex dreams about exes, bosses, celebrities, and even platonic friends than the person we share a bed with. You may be attracted to this friend, or perhaps the sex dream is simply happening because this is someone you can't have sex with. Either way, don't worry about being a perv or about cheating if you're in a committed relationship. "It's very normal, and it's just human nature. It doesn't imply anything wrong or a conscious desire to be unfaithful; it's just part of being human," Friedman says.
Here’s another, even more interesting, from one of my favorite sites for dream interpretation, dreammoods.com:
-To dream about sex refers to the integration and merging of contrasting aspects of yourself. It represents psychological completion. You need to be more receptive and incorporate aspects of your dream sex partner into your own character. Consider the nature of the love-making. Was it passionate? Was it slow? Was it wild? The sex act parallels aspects of yourself that you wish to express. A more direct interpretation of the dream may be your libido's way of telling you that it has been too long since you have had sex. It may indicate repressed sexual desires and your needs for physical and emotional love. If you are looking for a place to have sex, then the dream may be analogous to your search for intimacy and closeness. […]
-To dream that you are having sex with a friend refers to the closeness you share with your friend. Because you two share so much between each other and know so much about each other, the dreaming mind may depict this closeness as sex. Alternatively, such a dream indicates a level of attraction between you and your friend, but you are too afraid to act on it. Thus your desires are manifested in a dream.  […]
This is a lot of information on sex dreams that no one asked for, I just thought it was fascinating and I wanted to share.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Chapter 24: The stalemate

Summary:

It’s tradition. It’s always tradition. Whoever tries to get out of it pays a high price.
Alexander POV

Notes:

I’ve realized it usually takes me longer to write up a POV from someone new. But it’s such a fun exercise. Hope you enjoy this one.
TW: hazing ritual flashbacks, blood, vomit, physical abuse allusion, discrimination, racism, drug mention.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Can you talk to him? Try to convince him? I think he’ll listen to you, Alex.”

Alexander looked up from the chess game, in which he was only two moves away from beating Lukas. The other boy looked like he wanted to flip the board. 

“Sorry, what?” Alexander asked, glancing at Henry, who looked expectantly at him. Beside him the other first years were also staring at him.

“Why don’t you try to convince Wilhelm? He’ll probably listen to you,” Henry repeated.

Alexander rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. They were talking about Simon Eriksson’s initiation again, and convincing Wilhelm to let them do it. Despite the fact that Walter had already talked to Wilhelm, and Wilhelm had already given a rotund ‘no’, they insisted that the hazing should still take place. But they knew that Wilhelm would be pissed, and that Simon would yell at them to fuck off, and that it would not end well. So they were wary, trying to figure out how to do it without resulting in a massive fight whilst still upholding tradition. 

Alexander had tried to stay out of it, but the boys had purposely gathered around him at the beginning of the discussion, when they were pretty sure that neither Wilhelm nor Simon would be coming by the common room. Lukas had seen that lady who works with the royal family come into Forest Ridge with two other people and loads of things, and they were in Wilhelm’s and Simon’s rooms for a long time. But even after they left, Simon and Wilhelm only reappeared at dinner and then disappeared again.

So the first year boys took the opportunity to continue to talk about how to do Simon’s initiation. And Alexander ended up in the midst of it.

“Why would he listen to me?” he asked. Henry shrugged. 

“Because he likes you, you’re the nice one,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

Alexander chuckled. “Are you saying that you’re not nice?”

Henry shook his head. “Compared to you, no. Not at all.”

“Compared to you, any of the rest of us might end up with a broken nose courtesy of Simon,” Lukas added.

“Or Wille. He did famously head-butt that guy in that club.” Mattias pointed out. Albin sniggered.

“Yeah, I’m still surprised Henry didn’t get a black eye after he told everyone about the Wille and Felice thing.”

Alexander nodded, feigning a laugh. That seemed to be the consensus; Wilhelm didn’t exactly get along great with anyone, due to how weird everyone acted around him, because of his title, but especially the first year boys, who both gossiped about him and looked up to him as a leader, even though he didn’t seem to want to be. And this was before the speech, before everyone became extra awkward around him and Simon when they were together. And Wilhelm didn’t seem too fond of any of them for all those reasons.

But not Alexander. For a while, he seemed to be on better terms with Wilhelm than anyone else. 

And now he knew why.

Everyone was aware that he and Wilhelm had been pretty friendly recently, but no one was aware of how things had changed. 

Alexander didn’t respond, and pretended to be focused on the game, hoping they’d leave him alone. 

But they kept talking, like it was the biggest, most important issue they could be discussing right now.

“What if we get Vincent involved? He’s the prefect, he could make it happen,” Evan suggested.

“Are you crazy? Do you want blood on your hands? You know they can’t stand each other,” Henry hissed.

“Okay, fine.”

“Besides, this is our thing, our business. We need to make this happen.”

“Yeah, we can do this. We just have to make sure that none of us get murdered,” Albin added.

Alexander shook his head. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why they were so excited about torturing someone; they acted as if it were the most important moment of their lives, to plan how to humiliate a fellow housemate.

Not that he felt particularly protective of Simon. But he still felt bad. 

Hazing was not just a casual ritual to be welcomed into a boarding house, it was literally torture. As much as Alexander had mentally prepared himself for it, he was still terrified the day before he left for Hillerska. He’d heard about it, from former students, from his own father. They spoke of heinous acts like they were nostalgic for it. His father did his best to make light of it; it’s standard, it’s expected, it would be okay, everyone went through it. It’s tradition.

“It builds character, Alexander,” he had said as they got ready to leave. “You’ll be fine.” 

He had been fine, or so he told himself, and told his father afterwards, the next time they spoke. Although he didn’t share details, he said that it was gruesome and painful but he made it through, and his father responded with the word ‘wonderful’. 

“Don’t tell your mother, though,” he repeated once again. Alexander’s mother could never know what went on. 

For good reason; she did not graduate from a Swedish elite school, so she knew nothing of these initiation traditions that her son might be submitted to. She would have been horrified to learn Alexander and the first year pledges were forced to stand outside in their underwear and told to plank on the gravel outside the main building, for five minutes, forced to start over if they didn’t make it, the older boys placing heavy books on their backs every time they had to start over. Their elbows were bleeding by the end of it. 

“Pathetic pussies,” the older boys sneered and laughed. With not a single winner after an hour, they decided to end it with a race, army-crawling across the gravel to the steps. There were no winners, only losers. 

Alexander was dead last.

“Bad luck, slave,” August said, patting his cheek lightly, once he was allowed to stand up again. Every muscle hurt, his throat hurt, his eyes stung from the cold and from holding back tears of anger and frustration. On the side, Henry was bent over vomiting into the bushes. 

Only a day later, all the third years had established him as the slave, with August giving him a speech about loyalty and trust and proving himself and showing the school what he was made of. 

“This is an opportunity, son,” Ulf said later over video call, excited and relieved at hearing the news, “to show your worth, to work your way up the hierarchy. This is an honor.”

Alexander nodded, putting fresh gauzes on his elbows, to avoid staining his clothes with blood. 

If he was honest with himself, the first thing he thought when he was expelled from Hillerska, was that at least he wouldn’t have to be slave anymore. He wasn’t even worried about what his father or mother would say, or what he’d do now. 

Alexander came back to the present when Vincent snapped at them to shut the fuck up. The boys had gotten overexcited and were talking too loudly. Alexander returned to the game; he had almost forgotten what his next move was going to be. “Lukas, you’re up,” he announced.

Lukas was more interested in the conversation. “Wait, hold on, let’s settle this. Do we ask Wilhelm again or do we just go through with it?”

Alexander huffed and sat back. The group argued quietly, completely divided. Henry made his case for just going ahead with the plan, whilst Mattias pointed out that they had no plan, and Albin suggesting that they should ask Simon directly because Wilhelm would always say no. Walter was musing that maybe this was why Wilhelm and Simon hadn’t been back.

Alexander stared at the doorway. He was almost expecting Wilhelm and Simon to come in just then. 

After a while, when it was obvious that Lukas was too distracted and they weren’t going to finish the chess game, he got up and walked off. The boys didn’t even notice he had left. 

He had been steering clear of both Wilhelm and Simon as much as he could. Seeing them in class and during meals was inevitable, but the rest of the time he did his best to avoid them. 

Except when Simon arrived on Sunday as an official boarder, and Vincent intercepted Alexander in the hallway and told him to be at the door at six o’clock sharp, because apparently they were rolling out the red carpet for him. 

“I’d rather not,” Alexander responded reflexively.

The way that Vincent’s mouth tensed minutely in response made Alexander backtrack immediately. 

“Sorry, I… I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, you better be. Your mates are expecting you to there, I’m sure you’ll make the socialist feel very welcome,” Vincent responded, smacking him in the back too hard as he passed him. Alexander sighed and cursed under his breath, and he couldn’t think of anything else until he was outside by the door, standing behind Vincent, with headmistress Lilja, Göran, and that lady from the Royal Court, waiting for Simon and Wilhelm to arrive. 

He stood motionless when Simon and his mother appeared, and everyone exchanged pleasantries, and the adults began talking. There was no sign of Wilhelm for now. 

“Alexander, get the bags, will you?” 

Vincent’s voice cut through his thoughts. Alexander hesitated, glancing at Simon. As he expected, Simon stopped him, holding up a hand and putting on a polite smile.

“No need. I can do it.”

Vincent’s smile was like he had just bit into a lemon. “Come on, it’s part of it. Alex.”

Alexander froze, tensely, unsure of what to do. He moved forth again.

Simon rolled his eyes and turned ahead of him toward the car. “Oh for fuck’s sake, I can carry my own bags,” he muttered with a growl. 

Alexander dithered and stepped back, looking between Vincent and Simon. The three of them stood, staring at each other in a sort of stalemate, Simon glaring defiant with one bag in each hand, Vincent’s face a mix of disgust and amusement, and Alexander probably looked as sick as he felt. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you,” Vincent said with a sneer.

Alexander stood back again, eyes on the ground, trying to block them out, hoping they’d forget about him. But then Vincent gestured for Simon to come inside and glanced at Alexander like he expected him to fall into step with them. Alexander followed at a safe distance. 

He sensed the aggravated look on Simon’s face even as he stared at the back of his head, whilst Vincent badgered on about Hillerska’s and Forest Ridge’s history. He could also sense his impatience, glancing over his shoulder a few times. But not at Alexander; he was probably looking for Wilhelm. Alexander himself checked behind him a few times, wondering when Wilhelm would turn up. He didn’t care if it Vincent got mad; the moment the crown prince arrived, he was bolting. 

And Wilhelm did show up, just when things got unexpectedly heated. Alexander had been immersed in the argument, doing his best to become a wallflower. Inside the common room, some boys managed to hide their shock or amusement whilst others blatantly stared at the spectacle, thoroughly entertained. 

Wilhelm and Simon walked away, leaving a fuming, purple-faced Vincent behind, and Alexander knew he needed to get away before he became the target of the prefect’s fury. He dashed past his back and through the doorway to the common room, making his way to the furthest corner behind the billiards table. Most people were still staring at Vincent, waiting for a reaction, but a few people turned to him.

“Did we miss something? Or was that all?” a second year whispered. Alexander shook his head in reply. Don’t look at me, don’t talk to me. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Everyone pretended to carry on with what they had been doing. 

Vincent eventually found Nils and Pär in the room and joined them, and started ranting quietly about the new housemate, presumably, but mostly pretending like nothing major had happened. The redness never completely faded from his generally pale complexion.

Meanwhile, the color had drained from Alexander’s face the moment Wilhelm appeared, but he hoped he had regained some semblance of nonchalance by now. Maybe he hadn’t, because next thing he knew, the first years had crowded around him, peeking over their shoulders at the prefect. Alexander should have bolted toward his own room instead. 

“Well, this is going to be fun,” Henry muttered with a wiggle of his eyebrows, as he sat on the bay window bench. 

Or this is going to be bad for the rest of us,” Walter said warily. 

“Did we miss something? You were right there. What exactly happened?” Albin asked in a low voice. 

Again, Alexander shook his head. He didn’t want to say anything, he didn’t want to be asked anything. He wanted to not be involved at all.

“Does this mean that we won’t be doing an initiation for Simon?” Albin added now.

“Not if you don’t want Simon to smash your face in,” Walter said. 

“Why do you think he said that thing about Erik?” Mattias asked now, in general to the others.

“Don’t know. Maybe it’s Wille. Maybe he’s the one who doesn’t want anyone talking about him,” Evan replied with a shrug.

“Yeah, better be careful when they show up,” Albin said.

“I don’t think they’re gonna be hanging out in here much,” Walter pointed out. “I mean, they haven’t this whole time, why would they start now? Especially after that.”

They were therefore very surprised when Wilhelm and Simon showed up two days later in the common room, as if nothing had happened. And thus why the whole idea of hazing Simon was back on the table. 

And even when Wilhelm said no, and even when they didn’t come by the common room on Wednesday, the boys continued to plan. And Alexander continued to somehow wind up in the midst of it.

To his chagrin, he had been sitting with Albin and Evan at one of the picnic tables on Thursday, in between classes, when the rest of the group gathered around them. As predicted, the main topic was still the initiation. They would keep it simple. A light hazing, as Walter put it.

“Albin, you’re in charge of getting the eggs and flour,” Henry said in a hushed voice.

“What if we cover him in glitter instead?” Mattias suggested.

“That’s evil,” Henry scoffed.

“He probably likes glitter.”

“Why, because he’s gay? Grow up, Mattias.”

Mattias made a face and Evan shook his head at him.

“We have the masks, we have rope, we have the sack, we tie him up a bit, hands and feet, and dunk eggs and flour over his head,” Henry went over the plan. “We take a few pictures and carry him to the party like that-”

“Wait, I thought we were tying him up to the statue,” Evan asked. 

“Oh. Right, well, we need to take him to the party later, so… okay, fine, we tie him up to the statue, dump the stuff, then let him go. But we don’t gag him, okay? I think that’s the kind of thing that he’s not going to like.”

“Unless he does…”

“For fuck’s sake, Mattias, shut up. You’re a fucking perv,” Lukas hissed.

“Me? You’re the one who’s always talking about hearing them have sex, but now I’m the perv for suggesting they’re into kinks?”

“Yes, you are. We don’t actually want to know that stuff.”

“I was joking,” Mattias hissed back.

They argued about stupid stuff for a bit longer, and Alexander did his best to ignore them. The topic then deviated to where the hell they were going to pre-game or set up, and whether they should invite some girls to tag along, in case they managed to sneak into the party. 

“Well, if Sara Eriksson could get in, and Wille managed to get all of us in last time, we should be able to do the same, right?” Albin said.

“And why would you think it’s that simple?” Henry asked.

“If the group is too big, they definitely won’t let us in, especially not after last time,” Walter pointed out.

“I think we need a plan B. We’re definitely not getting lucky this time,” Lukas said.

“We need more alcohol-”

“We need someone on the inside-”

“What if we just throw our own party?” Evan suggested.

“Where? And in what time? And with what?” Lukas asked. “Our best shot is if we invite the girls. Between Felice and Wille, we might just-”

“If Wille is there, Felice will probably be there, and if she comes then Madison and Stella and Fredrika will definitely come-”

“I think Stella might come for a completely different reason,” Lukas said with a wink. 

“What are you- oh for fuck’s sake, you’re not still going on about that, are you?” Henry groaned. 

“Just establishing some truths.”

“It’s not true.”

“Well, Jonna and Rebecca thought so. What do you think that means?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“It could…”

“Fuck you, Lukas…”

Alexander stood up and left. They had Maths class next, so he started in that direction. Whilst the rest of the boys kept talking, Henry got up with a huff and followed him. 

“Are you going to talk to him, then?” Henry asked, keeping in pace with Alexander. Alexander frowned. 

“Who?”

“Wille.”

He groaned. “For fuck’s sake, no. How many times do I have to say it?”

Henry looked surprised; Alexander rarely every talked like that. 

“Oh… you hadn’t actually said it at all…”

Alexander blinked, confused. That was true; he hadn’t actually told them no when the boys asked him. He had said it repeatedly in his head, but not actually out loud. 

What difference did they expect it to make, anyway? Like Wilhelm would suddenly be sold on the idea of letting a group of idiots from his year torture his boyfriend? Like Simon would be cool with that? Just because Alexander asked nicely?

He entered the still empty classroom and walked to a desk in the far side, next to the window. Henry followed him again, picking the desk in front of him and dropping his stuff. He turned in his chair to face Alexander.

“What’s up with you?” the redhead asked him. Alexander tried not to relax.

“I don’t think we should do it,” he said slowly.

“The hazing?”

“Yeah. It’s not going to end well.”

“It never does. But it’s not that big a deal.”

Alexander frowned. He remembered the look on Henry’s face as he almost didn’t make it to the bushes to throw up; his pale skin was basically purple, even if it wasn’t as cold yet, it was still nighttime and they were outside naked. They could have suffered from hypothermia.

“I promise it won’t be bad,” Henry added. “But we need you and your common sense there, man. You’ll keep us in line. You’re the nice one.”

Alexander swallowed hard and didn’t answer.  

“What’s up with you?” he asked instead. Henry looked sour.

“Nothing,” he said cuttingly. He looked ahead, then turned back around. “Well… I…” he let out a long sigh, “I think Lukas might be right. About Stella.”

“About…”

Henry didn’t seem to want to elaborate, but Alexander already knew; there were rumors now about multiple girls all of a sudden having a strange and sudden interest on the prince, including Stella. Someone had caught her staring at him a couple of times and getting a bit flustered when she brushed it off, and that was it. Britta, the vice captain of the fencing team, was also rumored to have a thing for him because she ‘smiled a lot and stood very close to him’ when talking to him during practice. And Jonna, who gossiped about everyone but apparently seemed hyper-focused on one person lately, dropping his name into every conversation. 

It was stupid and made no sense. After all, since the speech, most people were staring a lot at him and talking about Wilhelm a lot, though. Rather, Wilhelm and Simon. That didn’t mean everyone was interested in either of them. 

And Stella, in particular, clearly had no interest in anyone at the school at all, including Henry, and least of all the prince who had just come out and had a boyfriend. But that was the rumor, and now people were trying to prove or disprove it. 

“You know, maybe she is… and it doesn’t matter, because he doesn’t care, but, like, him…? Seriously?” Henry said dejectedly, crossing his arms over the back of his chair and resting his chin on them. 

Alexander tried to look sympathetic. Henry was not a bad-looking guy, and a rather nice, good humored person in general, albeit a little dim, and he had status and money, and he was from a noble family, and he was a member of the Society… But Wilhelm was still the fucking crown prince of Sweden, and that was the winning trait by most girls’ standards in this school. 

They both looked across the room. As if on cue, Stella and Fredrika had just come into the classroom, ahead of Felice, Madison, Wilhelm and Simon, who were all chatting animatedly. Fredrika pulled Stella toward a desk in the very back of the classroom, the blonde giggling as she tried to keep up. 

“I didn’t know you genuinely liked her,” Alexander pointed out. Not that Stella wasn’t beautiful and cool, but he honestly knew nothing about her. She seemed guarded with anyone who wasn’t Fredrika or Felice or Maddie. Something told him that Henry didn’t know anything about her either. 

Henry shrugged. “She’s… pretty and… hot.”

“Is that it?”

Another shrug. “She… she doesn’t care what anyone thinks. She’s very sure of herself. That’s hot too.”

Alexander nodded. That wasn’t so crazy. For a while, Alexander had had a major crush on Madison McCoy, because of how confident she was, and how much she liked to call other people out on their bullshit. She didn’t care that she was different and that people thought she was weird. She was just herself. 

Madison had no interest in him, though. He got over it pretty quickly. 

“Do you want to date her or do you just want to hook up?”

Henry seemed to think really long and hard about it. “Um… I don’t really… know…”

“Do you actually have anything in common?”

“We’re…” he started, but trailed off. “I mean, I don’t know…? I just…” He seemed disappointed. “Never mind.”

Henry turned back around and reassumed the same pose, slumped over his books. He started doodling on the margin of his notebook. 

Alexander stared at him for a long time. That was the most earnest that Henry had ever been. No one at Hillerska was ever very open about anything; there was no such thing as keeping other people’s secrets or being respectful of privacy in general. Every bit of honesty was fodder for rumors and gossip. 

But lately people didn’t care about anything unless it had something to do with Wilhelm and Simon. Students were even taking selfies and videos with the pair in the background, regardless of what they were doing, to see who could capture a candid public display of affection. Like it was a competition.

The media seemed to be catching on, too; a few gossip and celebrity outlets had started reposting from students whose Instagram accounts were public, and images of the crown prince and his boyfriend casually hanging out in class, between classes, or during fencing practice, and even videos and pictures of Simon in choir practice, were making the rounds on social media.

Alexander had no interest in participating. Despite everything he knew, he wasn’t into the drama. He’d had enough of drama already, and unlike most people in the school, he was good at keeping secrets. 

He just didn’t know what to do with them, other than let them eat him up. 

Even before coming to Hillerska, before being unceremoniously placed at the very bottom of the pecking order, he had never been very assertive or outgoing. People expected him to be remarkable but at the same time not stand out. Get good grades, make everyone proud, be humble.

Hillerska was not entirely different. The expectation was to follow the older boys’ lead and make a name for oneself as something. It was striking the right balance between standing out and fitting in. Alexander had been under the impression that he had been achieving just that. 

And then, in one night, it all came crashing down. 

He was supposed to stash the drugs so that no one else would know where they were, it was safer that way, and no one would suspect him, the Society boys had said. They were counting on him, August had said. 

So he stuffed his pockets and set back to Forest Ridge, to do as he was told and then wait for the Society boys to be done drinking and playing games and come back and let them back into the building.

It was still dark out, and everyone was supposed to be asleep, and yet a couple of staff members had been walking around the building and intercepted him as he attempted to climb in through his window. Apparently, Wilhelm’s bodyguards had raised the alarm that the crown prince was missing, and housemaster Göran got the staff to help make the rounds and look for Wilhelm, but found Alexander instead.

It didn’t take long for Göran to realize that Alexander was hiding something, and after a bit of questioning and searching, he alerted the headmistress of the situation.

He had never been so nervous. It was awful, getting caught, being suspended, having no one to defend him, finding out that they had all turned on him, being told that he was getting expelled, hearing that they expected better from him, seeing the look on his mother’s face…

It was a lousy ride home. 

And it was an even lousier holiday. 

His father had been outraged, but not at him; he knew what the upperclassmen were like, he knew that Alexander had probably been the scapegoat, and he believed Alexander’s side of the story, even if Alexander, out of some crazy loyalty and honor, decided not to share all the details. His father was outraged, instead, that there was never enough evidence against him, and that the parent council was reluctant to do a full investigation; so he leveraged the fact that the headmistress was keen on not drawing more attention to the school after the royal sex video scandal, and threw in a hefty donation, and that was it. Ulf Bragé wasn’t letting the family name be dragged through the mud for something that he was fairly certain his son hadn’t done at all. Alexander had been grateful for his father’s trust in him. 

But what was he supposed to do then? Going back to Hillerska meant facing the people who had basically sold him out. Facing August. 

Yet, he started out the year full of confidence. He wanted to put all of that in the past, and also to challenge himself. He  wasn’t letting anyone off the hook; instead  he wanted them to know that he wasn’t someone that they could just mess with. 

He was still the slave, like nothing had changed in his brief absence, but he wasn’t the same meek pushover he once was. He refused to be.

He tried being more assertive, more involved. He even felt bold enough to take a big chance for the Valentine ball and send a poem to Sanna, a beautiful and popular second year girl in Manor house, who had drunkenly made out with him one time during a party. He liked her, though he had no idea if she fancied him back. But he had nothing to lose; if she rejected him, at least he had tried. So he wrote a simple, slightly corny poem and waited a couple of days before he revealed himself as the author, and no one was more surprised than him when she smiled at him and accepted to be his date to the ball.

He felt confident, he felt renewed. He was sure that things were taking a turn for the better. As he danced in the crowded hall, he felt on top of the world. 

But then he had the brilliant idea of taunting August. 

And in return, August told him something he had not been expecting. 

And it all came crashing down again. 

“Can I sit here?” 

Alexander looked up. Sara Eriksson stared glumly at him as she waited for his reply, one hand on the back of the empty chair next to him, ready to pull it back.

For the past few weeks, they had sat together in almost every class, so it was pretty strange that she still felt the need to ask. 

He was pretty sure that Sara had no one to sit with anymore, since her friends no longer wanted anything to do with her, and her brother now sat in every class with his boyfriend. Alexander didn’t care who sat next to him; lately he preferred to be alone. Since he and Sara rarely talked, except when the coursework required them to discuss something, it was basically like sitting by himself, unbothered. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said with a small nod. Sara sat down and slumped over the desk, as the rest of the students filed in. 

Walter came in and sat beside Henry. “Hey, why’d you guys take off?” he asked in a low voice. Henry shrugged. Walter glanced back at Alexander, who also shrugged. He turned his head a bit more and said an off-handed ‘hi’ to Sara. Sara didn’t respond.

Mr Englund came in and everyone stood up to greet him formally before sitting down again. The teacher instructed them to turn to page 142 in their books as he stood and started scribbling on the board. The rustling of pages filled the classroom. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander saw Simon glance at him. 

Not at him, no. At Sara. She might have glanced back, but then her eyes returned to the open page of the book. 

It was strange; brother and sister used to sit together in every class last year. They were inseparable, until she moved to Manor house and became roommate and best friends with Felice, and their whole dynamic changed. 

But now they were never seen together either, at all, even between classes. Alexander was sure that, even if Simon didn’t spend all his time with his boyfriend now, he and Sara would still not hang out anyway. Like they couldn’t be in each other’s company anymore.

It had something to do with August, that was certain. The whole school now knew about him and Sara, and Felice being outraged at her best friend having sex with her ex-boyfriend, and the girls shunning her for ‘breaking the girl code’ or something like that, and Sara moving out of Manor house as a result. 

But beyond that, the sudden divide between the Eriksson siblings made no sense.

Except Alexander knew. He knew what August had done.

Did Sara know? Had she known before she had started sleeping with August?

Did she know that he knew?

Alexander had always thought of her as a bit peculiar, as someone who struggled to fit in but tried nonetheless. She had been a completely different person a few weeks before. 

Maybe he had changed too. He just had no clue how much was out of his control, and how much was his own doing. 

He didn’t know how to act anymore. He had no idea how to be himself again. 

Maybe he had never actually been himself. 

It was like he had no clue what he was really like. Like all his decisions and behaviors and things he liked and disliked were based on other people. Like he had just been following everyone’s lead his whole life, so he would fit in. So people would like him.

Being the slave was supposed to get him closer to that. 

Did he really think that? He wasn’t even sure what purpose it would actually serve for his future, except mark him for life, perhaps. 

There were other things he should be focusing on; schoolwork, university, deciding what he’d study, what he’d become. His family had expectations of him. But he could have expectations of his own. He just needed to figure out what those were.

He just wanted to be his own person, whatever that meant.

At least he’d be in second year in a few months, and he’d no longer be everyone’s lackey. Some wide-eyed, naïve first year trying to impress his peers would take his place. But in the meantime, he was still doing it, still fulfilling his role, even after everything that happened the previous year. Even after knowing what he knew. 

He didn’t want to feel like this anymore, to deal with Vincent or August or anyone anymore. Especially August.

But he didn’t know how to get out of it. 

He was stuck.

“You don’t actually have to do anything, I promise,” August had said that day, in his room, as he explained everything to Alexander and asked for his help. “He’ll be too scared to do anything. He’ll just let it go,” he said, talking about Wilhelm, in a voice that didn’t sound reassuring at all, pacing in front of him in the small room. 

Alexander had been too stunned to speak at first. In retrospect, for August to reveal all of that to him, to confess to filming and leaking the video of his own cousin, to explain why Simon had brought the drugs, to reveal that he’d been having money problems, to share confidential information despite the Royal Court’s instructions not to tell anyone… clearly August was scared shitless and desperate and had no one else to turn to. 

It wouldn’t hold up, anyway. August failed to note, as he rambled on, a bit frenzied, that Alexander had already been caught with the drugs by the time August stood outside Wilhelm’s window. And anyone who knew that would know that the story August was pitching was inaccurate. 

And yet Alexander had stupidly allied himself with him. He had believed him, he had felt embittered enough to want to be given some form of retribution. And he had taken August’s word and convinced himself that it was harmless, that it was just meant to scare Wilhelm, to keep him from doing anything. Threatening him by threatening Simon was the most effective way to corner him. 

It worked. For a bit. 

Perhaps that had been precisely the last drop, the ultimate push for Wilhelm to say what he said in his speech. He probably knew the shitstorm that it would cause, but he had been prepared to deal with it, rather than to have to deal with August’s betrayal one second longer.

Meanwhile, Simon had only been an official boarder for about five minutes, and he was already defying the prefect like it was nothing. Alexander had stood in shocked silence as Simon and Vincent argued outside the common room, as everyone else gawked. As much as he resented Simon for the part he played in Alexander’s expelling, in that moment, everything the curly-haired boy said, every word out of his mouth, and the spite behind them, it felt… good. Like Alexander was indirectly getting something off his own chest.

He wished he could do something like that.

He wished he hadn’t gotten involved at all. He felt caught in the middle. No clue on how to get out of it.

Simon seemed to be caught in the middle of it too. Much like Alexander, he probably hadn’t known the full scope of what he was getting himself into. Though Simon had much more skin in the game; and thus a lot more at stake. 

He probably disliked Alexander for that.

Alexander disliked himself too. 

He had let himself be manipulated, again. 

It was ironic, because he had been expelled for something he hadn’t done, and now he had agreed to take the fall willingly. 

He kept thinking what his father would say if he found out, or worse, if Alexander got expelled again. And for something he couldn’t have possibly done, even hypothetically. 

Regardless of whether it was true, or if it was a fabrication, he doubted his father would be so trusting and understanding this time. 

But he only realized that too late. He thought about it, as the jubilee devolved into a frenzy of camera flashes and security people ushering reporters and photographers away, and teachers and staff herding students back into the main building.

He realized it as he watched the news coverage developing over the following two days, in television and in social media, as he saw paparazzi photos of Simon and his house plastered everywhere, as he saw a crowd gathering outside Drottningholm palace, as he heard people gossiping incessantly, as he saw the viral sex video making the rounds again on every screen…

It wasn’t fair. They’re the ones who fucked up. He shouldn’t feel guilty. But he did.

How could he have listened to August? He had trusted someone who always had the upper hand, someone who was willing to do anything to maintain that upper hand. Did August keep that bottle of drugs for his own use? For dealing? For blackmailing purposes?

It was all a game. From the moment Alexander set foot in that school and was chosen as slave. But he wasn’t playing. He was being played, like a fucking pawn. 

He hadn’t exchanged two words with August since that day. 

It was awkward running into him every day, as awkward as it was to see Wilhelm and Simon around, acting like nothing. 

August didn’t act like nothing. He seemed rather like a very different person. He was noticeably quieter and withdrawn, a drastic contrast to his usual demeanor. He hadn’t tried speaking to Alexander either.

Alexander kept mostly to himself too. And nobody bothered him. 

“Come on, Alex! Why not? Why won’t you even try to talk to him?” 

Well, almost nobody bothered him. 

Alexander sat back in his chair and ignored Henry’s impatient stare, and found his place on the page again.

“Henry,” he muttered, “let it go.”

“I can’t! We can’t! Don’t you get it? This is our chance! If we don’t haze Simon, we’ll be absolute losers…”

Alexander cleared his throat and returned to his reading. He didn’t even know why he attempted to read in the common room. Despite the rowing team still not being back from practice, and many of the third years being elsewhere planning next day’s party, the room had felt quiet enough to read and relax, until Henry invaded his corner. 

Henry didn’t take the hint of the book in front of his face. Alexander gave up and rolled his eyes at him. 

“If you’re so keen on doing the hazing, you’re gonna have to do it without their permission, and deal with the consequences later.”

From the way that Henry’s face lit up, Alexander could tell that was a terrible suggestion to give to someone who seemingly had no impulse control. He would rather stay out of it completely.

“There’s a chance he’ll kill us all,” he warned. Henry cocked an eyebrow.

“Who? Wille or Simon?”

“Either. Or both.”

Henry sniggered, but then glanced over his shoulder, like he was making sure neither of the aforementioned were there, and shrugged. “Guess we’ll take that chance, won’t we?”

“Not me,” Alexander responded, eyes on the page again, though he wasn’t reading, couldn’t manage. He felt Henry look at him curiously. 

“Is something off between you or something?” he asked.

Alexander lowered the book and stared at Henry, a bit surprised that the other boy had caught on. Henry wasn’t exactly known for his insightfulness.

But before he could confirm or deny anything, Wilhelm and Simon walked in. Henry winked at Alexander, and shot up to his feet and walked over to the group. Walter and Lukas, who were on their usual spot on the couch, greeted them. They were all acting like that was the group dynamic now.

Alexander felt tempted to leave.

Instead, he continued reading, or trying to. Everything was too distracting, the voices, the movements around him. He occasionally lifted his eyes toward the group, catching bits of their conversation; two second year boys hung off the back of the couch watching Walter play on Simon’s computer, and Wilhelm was coaching Simon on a game of chess against Lukas. About half an hour had passed when Alexander realized that he had read the same page five times and not absorbed anything at all. 

Then the rowing team came in. First Vincent and Nils, and then a little bit later August, and he watched them too. 

August, predictably, snuck into a corner, ready to blend into the background. Alexander saw the dismay that crossed his face when he came in and spotted his cousin in the center of the room. He saw the minute way in which Wilhelm tensed for a moment, and saw the concerned glance that Simon gave him. He saw Vincent following August with his eyes and complaining about it to Nils. 

Alexander again felt leaving.

Maybe he should have gone to a different school instead of coming back. Maybe it would have been best to start over.

He felt… jaded and bitter, and even a bit ashamed, for thinking for a moment that Wilhelm was any different to the rest of them. 

They had both been through something and they both came back from Christmas break, into unfriendly territory at Hillerska. Returning to Hillerska had felt bold and defiant; he felt encouraged by Wilhelm’s friendliness, by the way he stood up for himself. 

Alexander had genuinely thought they were friends.

He was stuck now.

He watched over the top of his book as Wilhelm approached Nils, and they walked out together and stood outside the room to talk, and Simon glanced every now and then at them until they came back, and Lukas lost, and they played again. 

Everyone jumped when Vincent yelled at Walter to shut up. There was an argument, and Walter got assigned dishes for the rest of the week, but Walter didn’t seem to mind too much and just returned to the game, which irked Vincent even further.

Just when he was thinking of leaving again, Simon and Wilhelm got up and said goodnight. Walter handed Simon his laptop back, and the couple headed out.

Even if he hadn’t been looking, it would have been hard to miss the comical way in which all the first years suddenly looked at each other, then a few of them spun their heads around toward him, eyes wide. 

‘Talk to them!’ Lukas and Henry mouthed at him at the same time. ‘Go!’

‘Alex, come on…’ Walter mouthed, gesturing for him to follow Wilhelm and Simon. 

If only to get them to leave him alone, Alexander got up, book in hand, and walked out of the common room and followed Wilhelm and Simon down the hallway. 

He stopped, hesitant, as they rounded the corner. He glanced back, to make sure that none of the boys were following him too to check on him. This is so fucking stupid, he thought, shaking his head in disbelief. He didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to talk to them. 

He heard them laugh. Psyching himself up, Alexander growled and sprinted forward and around the corner and caught up with them before they entered Simon’s room.

“-not telling me that you’re jealous again-” Wilhelm was saying. 

“Um,” Alexander hesitated again. They didn’t hear him.

He cleared his throat loudly. 

“Uh, Wilhelm, Simon.”

They stopped and turned, faces blank. 

“I, uh, sorry to interrupt, I just…” he cleared his throat again. “The guys insisted that I come talk to you about the hazing tomorrow.” 

They both groaned and looked at each other. 

“Yeah, they wanted me to try to convince you… that they promise it will be a very light hazing, just to do something, and-”

“No,” they both said softly, at the same time. 

Alexander sighed. “I know. That’s what I told them you’d say. They still… insisted. I’m just the messenger. Just doing what they asked, so maybe they’ll stop.” He shrugged and started backing away. “Carry on.”

“Why?” Simon asked.

Alexander stopped. “Why what?”

“Why did you just do what they asked?”

Alexander didn’t respond. Simon looked done. 

“If you already knew what we were going to say, what was the point of pretending to try to convince us?”

“I don’t know,” Alexander responded, bitterly. “Just trying to get them off my back.”

“In that case, could you tell them-”

“Fuck off, I’m not your messenger,” Alexander snapped, and turned to walk away again. 

“Wait,” he heard Wilhelm say.

“I did what I was asked,” Alexander said, waving a dismissive hand. “Do whatever you want.”

“Alex, wait,” Wilhelm repeated, a little stronger now. “Can we talk?”

Alexander stopped and looked over his shoulder. 

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“But I do. We didn’t get a chance- I didn’t get a chance to explain or apologize-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Wilhelm sighed. “Well, you heard August. You’ve heard one side of the story.”

“I don’t care about your side.”

“I figured. But… at least heart me out.” Wilhelm gestured toward his room. “Please?”

Alexander hesitated for a long time, glancing between the two of them.

He was not involved anymore. He didn’t want to be involved anymore. 

Against his better judgement, however, he did. Pushover, he growled at himself as he walked toward them. Wilhelm opened the door, and Alexander came in, but he stayed by the door. Simon walked past him and leaned against the wardrobe. Wilhelm closed the door and shoved his hands in his pocket. 

Alexander realized he had never been in Wilhelm’s room before.

“Do you have to be here?” he asked Simon. He could barely hear his own voice over his heartbeat, blood pumping loudly in his ears.

Simon cocked his head and frowned. “This involves me too, you know?” 

“Feels like you’re ganging up on me,” Alexander retorted.

“Like you and August ganged up on Wille?”

Wilhelm threw Simon a look, and Simon held up his hands. Alexander crossed his arms, expectant, gripping the book tight in one hand, as Wilhelm turned to him.

“Would you like to sit down?” he asked, walking further into the room, gesturing for the desk chair. 

Alexander shook his head, standing resolutely by the door. “Just say what you were going to say so I can leave.”

Wilhelm nodded, biting his lip. He pushed his hair off his forehead. 

“Okay,” he started with a long a heavy sigh, “Alex, I’m sorry for what happened. I’m truly sorry for what I did. I…” he shrugged, “I can’t go back in time and undo it, unfortunately, but I can tell you how sorry I am that you got involved.”

Alexander chuckled derisively.

“Interesting that you’re only apologizing now. You obviously didn’t want me to find out,” he retorted.

Wilhelm scoffed. “Of course I didn’t want you to find out!” he exclaimed, then lowered his voice. “Do you think I wanted you to know that I was the asshole who did that to you? I felt horrible, it was the shittiest thing I could have done, and you absolutely didn’t deserve it. Of course I hoped you’d never find out.”

Alexander didn’t speak. Wilhelm sounded sincere, but it made no difference. 

But the other boy continued. “And of course you found out from August,” he said with a sardonic scoff. “What I don’t understand is… why didn’t you talk to me about it? You know, when you found out, why didn’t you ask me, confront me? Why did you trust him immediately?”

“Was I supposed to trust you?” Alexander asked. “Don’t pretend to care about me. You only care about him.”

He gestured toward Simon, who seemed to be itching to jump into the conversation. 

Wilhelm let out a noise between a laugh and a scoff. “And you think that August cares about you? You think he told you because he cares, that he did that for your benefit?”

Alexander didn’t say anything. No, of course he didn’t think that. But…

But what?

“And now that you know what you know, you still trust him?” Wilhelm added. “The guy who fucking leaked a sex video of us?” 

Alexander averted his eyes. 

Wilhelm ran a hand through his hair and sighed again. “Look, I know that has nothing to do with you… and I get wanting to get back at me for what I did to you… but to protect August? After the way he’s treated you this whole time?”

Alexander frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you being a… a guy he just orders around.”

Alexander shook his head. ”It’s just the way Hillerska works, but I guess you wouldn’t understand.” 

Why was he getting defensive about it?

“I understand, I just-“

“I’m a first year, it’s tradition-” 

“Would you listen to yourself?” Wilhelm interrupted. “You think you deserve being treated this way? You think it’s because of tradition? Why doesn’t Walter get ordered around the same way, then, huh? Why doesn’t Lukas? Or Henry or Albin or Mattias? Why don’t I? It’s not just tradition then, is it? It’s because you won’t get treated the same way here. You’re different, so they treat you different. And August… he’s the worst. He’s worse than Vincent, worse than any of them. He doesn’t give a fuck about you at all. He doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. He just wants a scapegoat.”

Alexander was silent.

“You want to help him to get on his good side?” Wilhelm continued. “You think he’ll treat you better if you do? You think it will… I don’t know… earn you a spot in the Society or something? Is that what you want? Because you’re not going to get it. You can be as loyal as you want, but loyalty won’t get you anywhere with him.” He scoffed. “He betrayed me, and I’m family. Where do you think you stand?”

Alexander’s fingers tensed around the book. “That doesn’t change the fact that you took advantage of me too,” he hissed. “You made me take the fall for something I shouldn’t have.”

Wilhelm nodded. 

“I know, and I apologize for that. It was a fucked up thing to do. But… I wasn’t trying to harm you, I didn’t do it because I disliked you or didn’t care about you. I did it to protect Simon, because…well, I cared about him more, and I knew that, if he got the blame, he would never fare as well as you did. He’d never be able to come back to Hillerska. I knew that if he got expelled, I would never see him again… and I know it’s not an excuse, but I was… going through a lot of… I didn’t want to disappoint my family again… but also, I couldn’t… I couldn’t lose someone else that I cared about.” 

For a moment, his breath almost hitched, and it looked like he was going to cry. 

Alexander felt a small tug at his chest. Wilhelm had been a mess at that party. A drunken, high mess, more so than what had usually been seen in social media coverage of the ‘party prince’. He had been oddly animated and joyful, for someone who had just lost his brother, and who had just become the crown prince.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Wilhelm muttered. He then shrugged and let out a chuckle. “Because guess what? August had already recorded us at that point, and he was trying to figure out how far I would go to protect Simon. He was manipulating me, and trying to get rid of him. But he could have just as easily gotten rid of you. He didn’t want to, not out of loyalty or caring for you, but to protect himself, to protect his precious Society, in case you told on all of us. I was trying to protect myself, too, I can admit that. But it was never about you.”

Alexander shook his head, feeling his pulse accelerate. “It was about me. Because I was the easier choice.”

“Not really,” Wilhelm said. “Everyone else thought the easiest choice was Simon, and you… you were someone who should never have gotten involved. I keep thinking, why did they have you carry the drugs back, instead of just stashing them in the palatset? They knew it was riskier, but they didn’t care. They left you to deal with it. They don’t give a shit about you.” Wilhelm sighed. “It’s like… you were in wrong place at the wrong time. You still are.”

Alexander glanced at Simon momentarily, whose had been watching him the whole time. 

“And… if you take the fall for the video, it’s not going to be as easy to brush off as the accusations of drug possession, is it? Even if you’re a minor, even if the charges are milder, you’re… you’re admitting to child pornography, of a member of the royal family,” Wilhelm said. “Are you sure you want to do that? To help him? Do you trust him to protect you after that? He’s only out to protect himself.”

Alexander felt his heart pumping louder in his ears. 

“…plus the gratitude from the Royal Court when they realize what you did for them…” August had said in the palatset, with a condescending smile.

I’m just trying to make you understand what is best for you, what is best for everyone, what causes the least harm…” 

He felt sick.

Wilhelm let out another long sigh. “Again, I’m really sorry for what I did,” he said quietly. “You didn’t deserve it. And I know you might never forgive me or trust me again, which… I get it. But… don’t side with him just to get revenge.” His expression softened. “You’re a good person, Alex, you’re different in a good way. So don’t be like August. Be different. Be better.”

“Are you done?” Alexander snapped, face stony. Wilhelm stared at him, seemingly dismayed, but he nodded after a moment.

Alexander turned, hand trembling slightly as he reached for the doorknob.

“I’m sorry, too, that you got the blame for what I did.”

Alexander turned back, and stared at Simon. 

“But I agree with Wille,” Simon continued. “Why do you keep doing what they tell you to do? Why do you still protect them?” He shook his head. “You risk too much for the wrong people.”

Alexander sneered. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Simon nodded. “I know one thing, and so does Wille: you’re not like them. Stop trying to be.”

Alexander didn’t respond. Instead, he turned and pushed the door open and walked out.

He didn’t go back to the common room. He pulled out his phone and texted Walter to let him know that he had done his best, but that it was still a no. Then he put his phone in silent and went to his room, and lay down in bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep.

Wilhelm was right: he should never have trusted August. 

Alexander knew it, but he hated hearing it from someone else. Especially from someone he had thought was a friend.

All his life, he was told to try to fit in, get with the right group, and make himself trustworthy. But no matter what he did, no matter how much he tried, he was still at the bottom of the pecking order. 

People didn’t bother to get to know him, or befriend him; they simply used him, and underestimated him. 

Wilhelm was right.

Regardless of who brought the drugs to school, regardless of who had been dealing, it was Alexander who got caught with them, and suffered the consequences. Because he had agreed to carry them, to keep them safe. He agreed to be the one who might get caught. It was a risk, and he knew it, and he still did it.

He protected people that did not give a fuck about him.

And it took three hellish months and a disastrous jubilee, for him to realize that it was all bullshit. 

He had no one to trust now. 

August, on the other hand, trusted him, apparently.

No… August didn’t trust him; he used him. To him, Alexander was merely convenient, someone who was easy to manipulate. 

“You can’t fuck with me,” Alexander had told Wilhelm in the palatset. But he was wrong. Someone was fucking with him still. 

He felt like a fucking fool.

They were right. 

He was different. 

And he was alone. 

“So that’s it? We’re not doing anything?” he overheard Albin asking Lukas and Mattias at breakfast on Friday.

The three of them glanced over at Alexander. He did not look up at them, though, eyes fixed on his coffee. They eventually returned to talking among themselves, and left him alone for the rest of the day. But he could hear them talking about it, between classes. The whole group congregated in a corner before Politics and actually discussed it. He overheard Albin complaining about eggs and flour in his room. 

On the far left corner of the classroom, Simon and Wilhelm sat together in quiet conversation. Alexander chanced a glance in their direction. For a split second they both looked at him, and he turned back to the front and pretended to read.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to have anything to do with them ever again.

Which was ridiculous, they still had two more years at Hillerska, and they would still be in the same classes and in the same boarding house. It was unavoidable.

He still resented them. Maybe not as much as before, but he did.

But if he was honest, he also kind of… admired them. A little. 

Despite what they had done, above all, they stood up for themselves, and for each other. And Alexander had never been the kind of person who stood up for himself. He also didn’t have anyone to do that for him either, other than his family. 

But he still wanted nothing to do with them. 

The classroom was soon full of students, chatter and the noise of chairs being pulled back. He kept his head down until he felt a presence beside him. He looked up at the figure looming above him.

“Can I sit here?” Sara asked. 

He nodded, as always, and she gave him a little smile of gratitude as she sat down, and they sat in silence for the rest of the class. 

Everyone knew what Sara had done, and cast her aside. Nobody knew what Alexander had done, and yet he felt like an outcast too. 

His worst sin, perhaps, was letting people walk all over him all the time. He would get nowhere in life if he let that happen forever. 

No, his worst sin now was being blind and naïve and stupid, and trusting the wrong person again, and getting involved in things he shouldn’t be, and letting himself be manipulated again.

Ms Åhdal instructed them to open their books to page 50. As everyone obeyed, Alexander discreetly glanced back at Wilhelm and Simon again. From his angle, he could see them holding hands under the desk. He looked away. 

Maybe they were right. Maybe he was just always in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he wouldn’t anymore. He no longer wanted to be involved. He did want to be different. Better. 

They were definitely right about one thing: August would do anything to protect himself. 

Alexander should think about doing the same. 

Wilhelm and Simon weren’t planning to show up in the common room on Friday. Evan had overheard them earlier talking to Felice about having a movie night or something.

Alexander didn’t feel like hanging out in the common room either, so he stayed in his room, reading in bed, until the bustle of the third years heading out for their party died down, and the house went mostly quiet. 

Until there was a knock on his door. He dropped the book and got up to open.

“It’s time,” Lukas said dramatically, tossing him an object. There was something strapped over his head like a headband, his hair pulled back out of his forehead. 

“What?” Alexander asked, confused. He glanced down at the object. It was a clown mask, with grotesque makeup, a red swollen nose and a sharp toothed evil grin, green tufts of hair around the crown of the head. He sighed.

“Time to the haze the new guy.”

Alexander groaned. “Lukas, he said no.”

“Fuck it, we’re doing it anyway,” Lukas said, shaking his head. He looked buzzed. Alexander shook his head.

“Why?”

“Come on, we’ve got to go! They haven’t left yet.” 

“I’m not doing it,” Alexander said, handing him back the mask, and started closing the door. Lukas blocked him. 

“Yes, you are,” he hissed. “Listen, you’re probably the most likable guy in this group, and Wille and Simon might not be so mad if you’re in it. Besides, we’ll be gentle.”

“I don’t want to be involved.”

“Too late,” Lukas said, yanking Alexander out of his room by the front of his shirt. He pressed the mask into his hands again and lowered his own over his face. It was a werewolf mask. “Come on.”

Alexander didn’t try to wriggle out of his grip, as they ran down the hallway. Outside of Simon’s room, the other boys were already wearing masks and carrying bags. 

“We just saw him go in there. Wille’s in his room,” another clown masked figure stage-whispered in Henry’s voice.

“Should we get him first?” another figure with a creepy rabbit mask that sounded like Walter asked.

“Put on your mask, man,” hissed someone in a rat mask, Mattias, smacking Alexander lightly on his shoulder. 

Alexander groaned again, but did what he was told. 

He always did what he was told. 

The other boys continued arguing in low voices, and Alexander just stood there and listened. He didn’t want to be there, but he didn’t leave.

He was no better than them. 

He was still involved. 

Notes:

Yes, Alex is wearing the clown mask because he’s been clowned.
I hope we get a Wille apology to Alexander. I really hope we get more Alexander in season 3.
I had originally written Alexander as being a trans man, but then I realized it’s never been confirmed in the show. I guess the consensus is that he might be, but also it would be cool if he’s a cis man being played by a trans man. Still, I went looking to see if I missed anything, and I kind of wanted to know what Xiao-Long Zhao has said about that. I finally watched the Permanent Rain Press interviews (I haven’t really watched any of them, they’ve been on my Watch Later list forever), which seem to be the most in-depth and thorough, but Xiao-Long doesn’t touch upon that. However, I was impressed by how aligned we are in the way that we think Alexander probably thinks and feels.

Chapter 25: Post-traumatic

Summary:

The Forest Ridge first years want to haze the new guy. Wille reacts unexpectedly.
Wille POV.

Notes:

I’ve been ruminating this chapter for too long. As always, it came out longer than I originally expected. There are bad parts and good parts, but I promise it ends well.
TW (there’s lots of them, sorry): depictions and mentions of anxiety, panic attack, emotional shock, acute stress reaction, post-traumatic stress disorder (hence the title), self-hatred and self-deprecation, hazing, bullying, torture, manhandling, staged kidnapping, stress, vomiting, drug and alcohol use, drugs mention, grief, trauma.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Wilhelm felt his phone vibrate in his pocket just as he finished brushing his teeth. He fished it out and read the message from Farima.

- Good morning, Crown Prince. 

It has come to our attention that many of the students have been posting photos and videos of you and Simon on social media, disguised as selfies. Unfortunately, media outlets have been picking up on this and sharing these posts to their social media channels as well. 

The Royal Court will be discussing a plan of action during today’s afternoon meeting, to confront this situation. If you are able to join us virtually, I can provide a Zoom link, unless you prefer a videocall. 

- I see that it might clash with your fencing training schedule. But please consider making the time to join the meeting momentarily. 

Wilhelm groaned.

“What happened?” Simon mumbled beside him, toothbrush in his mouth. 

“Nothing, just…” Wilhelm sighed, “the RC just realized that people have us ‘photobombing’ their selfies on purpose.”

“Oh… And?”

“And they’re ‘going to discuss it’, and they’re asking me to join.”

Simon frowned. “Like it’s our fault? Like we’re doing it on purpose?”

“I don’t know…”

Simon and Wilhelm had been unwittingly appearing in the background of many fellow students’ selfies and videos taken between classes, during meals, even during choir practice and fencing training. It seemed to have become a sort of competition, of who could catch them being the most ‘couple-y’. 

And all kinds of opportunistic celebrity gossip media outlets reposted everything they could get their hands on, making videos and reels and TikToks analyzing their interactions. Since there were no new paparazzi photos of them, they resorted to the crumbs left by their classmates, who seemed to like the attention, likes and follows. 

Wilhelm and Simon had only become aware of this trend when it was pointed out to them by Felice, Maddie and Ayub, their social media and stories ‘monitors’. 

Of course they Royal Court was having a fit about it.

“Hmm… How ironic,” Simon muttered.

“That they’re asking me to participate? After they previously ignored my opinion when another video of us also appeared on the Internet?”

“Yep,” Simon replied. He rinsed his mouth. “Maybe… your mum is really trying to include you this time?” 

“Hmm, sure. And I can’t wait to talk about it and for them to ignore me anyway.” 

Simon shrugged. “I guess it would be interesting to hear exactly how they plan to keep kids from posting to their socials,” he suggested with a wry smile, as he finished getting ready.

Wilhelm let out a small groan, and texted back:

- And what do you expect us to do about it?

Farima’s reply came through fast.

- Please continue to conduct yourselves with the utmost decorum. Please continue to be careful when moving to and from Simon’s house. We can discuss this further during the meeting.

“Okay, very useful, Farima, thanks,” Wilhelm growled at his phone before pocketing it. “We’re literally not doing anything…”

His phone vibrated some more in his pocket. It was probably still Farima. He’d ignore it for as long as he could.

“Maaaaybe…” he snaked one hand around Simon’s waist, with a mischievous smile, “we should do the complete opposite, and just, like, roll around on the grass in front of people and make out, like I’ve been wanting to do this whole time.”

Simon grinned. “Hmm, that would be smart.” He tilted his head to let Wilhelm rest his chin on his shoulder. “Like you’ve been wanting to do this whole time? Which one is that, the rolling around on the grass, or the making out in front of people?”

“Okay, not a full make out session, no, but… like, I want to kiss you all the time, and I wish I didn’t have to worry about who’s watching, and whether they have their phone out ready to record.”

Simon turned in Wilhelm’s arms. “You want to kiss me all the time?”

“Uh yeah.” Wilhelm said matter-of-factly. “And hug you and… just… like, just touch you.”

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know, like this…” Wilhelm put an arm around his shoulders, and Simon in turn circled his waist. “Or this,” and he planted a kiss on Simon’s temple. “Just like… like anyone else would do.”

“Me too,” Simon nodded, biting his lip. “Are we… really not allowed to do any of these things?”

Wilhelm grimaced. “It’s not an official rule, but it’s… unspoken. They prefer that we keep our hands off each other in public. It’s just, like, frowned upon, especially if we’re not engaged or married.”

He was reminded of it during the only Royal Court meeting that he had attended, when they agreed to support him and Simon, and again when the rules for spending the weekends at Simon’s house were laid out, and yet again when Simon moved into Forest Ridge and once more when he became an official boarder. He had heard about it since he hit puberty, and even before that he heard the RC and his mother constantly reminding Erik about how to conduct himself with ‘decorum’… 

“And I know I said I’d rather we keep as private as we can, but…” he blushed, “sometimes I want to kiss you so bad and I wish I just could… I wish it wasn’t such a big deal.”

“And… what changes when we get engaged or married?” Simon asked sheepishly. Wilhelm chuckled, feeling his neck grow hotter. 

“Well, we can probably get away with more stuff, as long as it’s… proper and publicly decent and whatever.”

“So no rolling around on the grass making out.”

“I guess not.”

He felt Simon’s hand slipping into his. “Maybe… we can get away with something small, like… holding hands? Or is that too daring?”

Wilhelm smiled, their fingers intertwining. “I’m willing to risk it.”

“Then I guess we have to get everything else out of our systems here, where no one can see us,” Simon said, tilting his head up to capture Wilhelm’s lips in a kiss, pulling him closer. Wilhelm melted, hands on Simon’s hips, their bodies flush against each other’s.

Simon pulled back, breathless. “Did that help?” he whispered.

Without a word, Wilhelm nodded and pulled him into a hug. Simon laughed into his neck, his breath tickling his skin. 

It felt like recharging, like unwinding after a fairly tense week. Especially after the tension of the night before. 

“Mmm,” Wilhelm breathed, before reluctantly opening his eyes. “We should go…” he mumbled into Simon’s shoulder, but he didn’t let go.

“Mmmno, need a little more…” Simon mumbled back against his neck, clutching a bit tighter, making Wilhelm laugh. 

Just when they arrived for breakfast, Alexander stood up from the table, glancing briefly in their direction as he left. Wilhelm rolled his eyes. 

“Ignore him,” Simon muttered, as they grabbed their food and made their way to their seats. The first years had been whispering to each other, but promptly stopped when Albin made a noise, presumably to alert them. They all fell silent and feigned nonchalance.

“Hey, guys,” Henry greeted them. 

They were still fucking talking about the hazing. And being the absolute worst at hiding it. 

“And ignore them,” Wilhelm muttered to Simon. 

“Never mind, we’ll be at Felice’s tonight, right?” Simon said. 

“Yep,” Wilhelm whispered. He’d be glad to be out of Forest Ridge tonight, and then off to Simon’s house for the weekend. He really needed a break from this place. 

Between Minou’s visit on Wednesday and everything that she told Wilhelm, and Simon’s dad calling him out of the blue, and their housemates incessantly planning an unwanted hazing, and them trending again on social media, and especially their talk with Alexander the previous day, they had not had a good week at all. Wilhelm had been extra tense, especially after learning that the Royal Court was making a big deal of August’s graduation. 

But he had been unable to stop thinking about the hazing. As soon as he told Walter there would be none, he told Simon about it. Simon was both mildly amused and vexed. 

“Are rich kids so bored, they have to make up drama in their lives?”

Wilhelm laughed and nodded. “Basically.” 

“Sounds like the perfect chance to bully me,” Simon added with a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not giving them the slightest chance.”

Wilhelm was relieved that Simon seemed unbothered. But a bit later, when they were getting ready for bed, Simon brought it up again.

“What was that like? The hazing?” he asked. “I mean, you seemed okay later… but then again, you were pretty drunk.”

Wilhelm stopped, a bit blindsided, and nodded. “Oh, yeah, I did get carried away that night… guess I didn’t want to think too much about it.”

That was generally it, the main reason why Wilhelm used to drink or try anything, was to not have to deal with things, to forget, to feel… less. To pretend to have fun. The last time he got drunk and even took drugs was the party with the Society. The goal was to stop feeling anything, stop the thoughts. It had been useless. 

“But… what did they do to you?” Simon asked again. 

Wilhelm sighed, and told him about it, leaving out the goriest details. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, to relive how it felt, being dragged out of his room by strange figures in horrifying masks and tied up and gagged. He didn’t want to remember the horrible anxiety he felt. His fight or flight or freeze instinct fully activated, he couldn’t process that it was probably just a prank, and those were just his housemates dressed up, and everything would be fine.

He remembered the horrible feeling of wanting to throw up, of feeling like he was going to die, of his heart pumping a million miles per hour in his chest. It felt like he had gone deaf, a horrible ringing in his ears, hot tears pooling in his eyes, as horrifying faces loomed nearby, as they dragged him, kicking and screaming, across the school grounds. He too vividly remembered the roughness as they tied him to the statue, as they threw foul-smelling substances into his face and hair and clothes, as they made him crawl on all fours on the cold ground as the others jeered and laughed, as they collected their spit into a cup and forced him to drink it, and he finally emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground…

And then having to pretend that he was fine, acting like it was cool, that of course he hadn’t wanted any special treatment. And then pretending to have fun at the party in his honor, people staring at him, making him the center of attention, expecting him to be the life of the party, whilst all he could think of was getting away… 

He was pretty sure he didn’t sleep that night. It took him a while to fall asleep, but he had been thinking about Simon, about being so close to him, about the spark between them in that moment, about how drunk and daring he had felt, about the way Simon had looked, a neon halo around his dark curls, the sound of his voice, the sound of his laugh, the way he smiled, the feeling of his lips against the palm of his hand…

Just as he drifted off, visions of masked figures dragging him from his bed woke up, heart busting out of his chest. He couldn’t go back to sleep after that, staring at the ceiling, just as the sun started peeking through the window, and his alarm went off.

No one deserved that. He hadn’t deserved that, and especially Simon didn’t deserve a remotely similar experience.

Simon stared at him, eyes wide, jaw clenched. Wilhelm licked his lips. 

“I… hadn’t told anyone that before.”

“Not even Boris?”

“No…”

“Why not?”

“Because… I guess I just… didn’t want to think about it.”

Simon looked horrified. Wilhelm sighed. Perhaps he should have talked to Boris about it first. 

“Did your brother, or anyone, warn you about it?” Simon asked.

“Um… he did, but he didn’t tell me what it was like…”

“Why not?”

“It’s… you’re not supposed to. It’s like… you just have to find out for yourself.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

Wilhelm scoffed. “Because I’m not letting them do that to you. It’s a stupid fucking tradition that shouldn’t exist anymore. Just because I went through that shit doesn’t mean you have to, too. I know you won’t want to.”

“Yeah, no… you’re right.”

There was a pause as they went to the bathroom. Wilhelm could tell that Simon was still mulling it over.

“What happens if I don’t do it?” he finally asked, when they came back to the room. “I mean, regardless of what happens, I’m still not doing it, but… what is supposed to happen?”

Wilhelm thought about it. “Good question. I have no idea. Probably nothing, except that you don’t ‘build character’,” he added sardonically. 

“Fuck character, I’m not doing it,” Simon declared, climbing into bed. “Especially not after that story.”

Wilhelm nodded and got into bed beside him. “I can ask someone, just to check.”

“Who are you gonna ask?”

“Well, not August or Vincent… maybe Nils?” 

Simon made a face, but immediately tried to dissimulate it. Wilhelm grinned. “What?” 

“What?”

“Did you just… make a face? When I mentioned Nils?” Wilhelm asked, peering at him curiously. Simon frowned and scoffed.  

“What? No. I don’t care. You can do whatever you want. Talk to… whoever you want.”

“But do you prefer that I don’t… talk to him specifically?”

“Stop it.”

“I’m just checking, you know, I wouldn’t want you to get… jealous,” Wilhelm said, pretending to scratch his shoulder, purposely pushing the collar of his shirt aside to expose the bit of his neck that had once been adorned with a love bite. 

Simon was shaking his head, frowning and fighting a smile at the same time. 

“Or… would I?” Wilhelm added, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck. Off.” Simon rubbed his face, but his cheeks were definitely redder.

Wilhelm winked before peeling off his t-shirt and tossing it onto the other bed, and settled back against the pillows. Simon switched off the light and laid down, one arm over Wilhelm’s stomach, head on his chest. Wilhelm caressed his curls. 

Never in a million years would Wilhelm have imagined that he’d be like this with the boy with the neon halo who smiled at him and sang to him and teased him, who put up with his drunken, messed-up self. 

What had started as a terrifying night had been capped off with him drunkenly flirting with the most beautiful boy he had ever seen. So all in all it had been a pretty good night.

“Promise that I won’t have to do it?” Simon asked suddenly. Wilhelm thought he had fallen asleep. 

“I promise. I never want you to go through that shit.”

“It’s so… weird… that this is, like, totally socially acceptable, to torture each other…”

“I know. It’s insane.”

“People have died, haven’t they?”

Wilhelm sighed. “I think so.”

“How the fuck is it still allowed?”

“I don’t know… The same way a lot of other insane shit is allowed, I guess.”

Simon propped himself up on one elbow. “But seriously, what if I don’t do it? Would they keep trying until they succeed?”

“I don’t know,” Wilhelm repeated. He wished he could say something more reassuring. “I’ll find out. But I still won’t let it happen.”

Simon let out a long breath. Wilhelm reached up to touch his face. 

“You okay?”

Simon bit his lip. 

“It’s just… stuff like this… it’s like a reminder of… how much I… I don’t belong here, Wille… and I don’t want to belong.” 

Wilhelm dropped his hand and stared at him, dismayed.

He didn’t know what to say anymore, when Simon said something like that. Every time he heard him say anything of the sort, like when he so quickly and naturally blurted out that he couldn’t accept Wilhelm’s position, he felt exactly the way he had felt that day. Like his heart was being squeezed by an icy cold hand. 

Simon shook his head and reached for Wilhelm’s hand. “You don’t belong here either,” he rectified. “You’re better than them.”

Wilhelm gave him a half-smile.

He told Simon that he’d ask, so he approached Nils on Thursday evening. Wilhelm hadn’t spoken to Nils since before the Valentine ball, not even a passing ‘hey’, not that he could remember. Everything had been a blur for the past three weeks. 

He was partially relieved by Nils’s answer. Surely it wasn’t a big deal, it was just tradition, although tradition had never been broken before. But there was nothing to worry about, really. 

And yet, he knew, as soon as he and Simon left the common room that night, that the rest of the first years would continue to plan Simon’s initiation. He didn’t know if he expected them to go through with it or not.

What they didn’t expect was for the boys to send Alexander to ‘negotiate’. Or rather they didn’t expect Alexander to talk to them at all.

But Wilhelm jumped at the chance to finally talk to Alexander. If he could at least apologize to him, explain himself, then that was at least one less thing in his mind. And maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward anymore. 

It’s not that he expected Alexander to forgive him. But the stubbornness with which the other boy dismissed his words was unnerving. He almost wanted to shake him by the shoulders and shout in his face are you fucking kidding me?! You’re willing to take the fall for August?!

“How do you feel?” Simon asked later, when they were in Simon’s room. It was their turn to sleep there, even though there were still bags of clothes lying around, and Simon’s suitcase lay open on the floor under the desk with the old and new clothes and shoes that he simply couldn’t fit in the tiny wardrobe. 

Wilhelm sat on the bed and leaned against the wall. “I guess… a bit relieved… At least I got to apologize. Even if he doesn’t forgive me, at least he listened to me.”

Simon nodded, scooting back to sit against the wall too. Wilhelm leaned his head on his shoulder. 

“Was I… did I sound genuine? I don’t know if he believed me and he just doesn’t care, or if he simply didn’t believe me.”

“No, I think he believed you. I think he’s just… too angry still, maybe.”

“Maybe.” Wilhelm bit his lip. “Maybe this was more for myself that for him. I mean, this has been weighing on my mind, and I… I just wanted a chance to say that I’m sorry. But I don’t expect it to make a difference. I just hope he’s not… stupid enough to still side with August, that’s all.”

Simon nodded slowly, staring into space. 

“Do you regret it?” he asked after a long pause. Wilhelm looked at him, puzzled. 

“Regret what?”

“Making Alexander take the fall, instead of me.”

Wilhelm shot forward and turned his whole body toward Simon. “What?” he exclaimed. “No, of course not!”

Simon’s expression was unintelligible to him. He leaned his head against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Maybe it would have been for the best…”

Again, Wilhelm felt that icy cold hand squeezing his heart. “What? Simon, why? No…” he shook his head. “I mean… it wasn’t ideal. It’s not that I…” He leaned toward Simon. “Listen. I know that things got messed up. But I have not, will not, for even a second, regret protecting you.”

Simon finally offered him a tiny smile. Wilhelm relaxed a little. 

“What I really really regret is that… that he got involved. I wish it hadn’t been him. If I’m honest, had I known what I knew later, I would have made August take the fall. Although he’d probably still would have posted the fucking video…”

“Yeah…” Simon said softly. Wilhelm sighed again.

“We can’t change what happened.”

Simon nodded again, lightly, eyes staring into space again.

“I know…”

He let out a shuddering breath. Wilhelm leaned forward again, looking at his face, at the tiny furrow between his eyebrows. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently. Simon met his eyes for a moment, then looked away.

“Maybe…” he started hesitantly. “Maybe I should come clean about it.”

Wilhelm’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe if I confess, I won’t get into as much trouble-”

“Simon-…” Wilhelm squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t… please don’t even think about it. You don’t know… we don’t know, and I’m… I’m not going to risk it. And you just know, that is exactly what the RC would need to fucking- I’m- please… just… don’t.”

Simon kept shaking his head. It seemed to take forever before he elaborated. 

“I keep thinking that everything keeps getting more complicated, and it… it just gets heavier, because I still did that, no matter how much we cover it up, it’s still something that I did, and I… I wish I could fix it, but the only way to do that is to come clean…”

Wilhelm sighed, frustrated. This was not what he had expected to hear at all. “No,” he said firmly, a bit commanding, “no, it’s not-”  

Simon suddenly scooted off the bed. “It’s not just the fact that August has something to fuck me over with, it’s the fact that- that Sara is right. I’m a fucking hypocrite, because-” his nostrils flared. “Because, I fucking did that shit, I got us into this mess and I betrayed her, and I-”

“Simon, please-” Wilhelm sat on the edge of the bed, taking Simon’s hand. Simon shook his head and stepped back, away from him. He looked angry. He sounded angry.

“No, it’s true. I stole drugs from my dad, and I brought them here, and I didn’t care if I was giving them to an addict, or if other people took them too, and I- I hurt people. I hurt you and my mum and Sara and-” He stopped, swallowing hard, eyes fixed on the wall above Wilhelm’s head. “I’m just like him.”

For a moment, Wilhelm thought Simon meant August, but then he realized he might mean his father. He shook his head but said nothing.

“And I was angry at you that night, for being high, but the truth is that I did that. I fucking- it if weren’t for me, none of this fucking shit would have happened-”

“Simon, I need you to stop-”

“No, you stop! You know it’s the fucking truth,” he hissed, seethed. “And I didn’t want to think about it for so long, but- that night- if you hadn’t called me that night, or, or, or if I hadn’t picked up, or, or if I hadn’t found you- you realized you could have died, right? In that field- it was cold and you were fucking drunk and high, and I did that-”

“No, Simon, you didn’t… I did that. I was at that party and I took the-” 

“You were sad, and that’s exactly what happens, but you wouldn’t have been able to if I hadn’t-”

“Please stop!” He finally stood up and grabbed Simon by the shoulders. “Please, I’m begging you. Please…”

Simon let out another trembling sigh and stopped. His nostrils were still flaring.

He was angry at himself, but he looked and sounded angry at Wilhelm too. Like he didn’t want Wilhelm arguing with him, contradicting him on what a terrible person he was; like he couldn’t stand Wilhelm telling him that everything would be okay. 

But Wilhelm had to. He just had to. Simon was wrong and he had to tell him. 

He gently cupped Simon’s face in his hands. 

“I understand how you feel. I feel it too. I feel horrible for the things that I did. I know you feel guilty. But… we all make mistakes. What you did was… impulsive and wrong and…” He let out a long sigh. “But I… you don’t deserve your whole life being ruined just because you made one mistake.” He caressed Simon’s cheek. “And you’re not like him. I get you’re afraid of that, but you’re not. You’re so much more than that. You deserve so much more than that.”

Simon was about to protest, but stopped himself, placing his own hands on top of Wilhelm’s, leaning into his touch. Wilhelm felt hopeful. 

“Please let me fix this. We can fix it,” he said. Simon bit his lip. 

“I feel like all you do now is fix the shit I caused,” he whispered, still frowning. 

Wilhelm nodded. “Well, I can’t help it. I love you.”

Simon’s face finally softened. He closed his eyes for a moment, like he was still arguing with himself, then looked at Wilhelm.

“Okay,” he replied. Wilhelm stared into his eyes, searching them.  

“Promise?” he asked. Simon offered a small hesitant smile.

“I promise.”

“Wille?”

Wilhelm returned to the present when Simon nudged him. Miss Åhdal had just walked in. He scrambled to push his chair back, getting on his feet to greet the teacher along with everyone else. 

He had become so wrapped up in his own thoughts, that he failed to notice class starting.

They all sat back down, a cacophony of scraping chairs. Miss Åhdal started talking and instructed them to open their books, and Wilhelm was still so muddled that he missed the page number she indicated, so Simon did it for him. 

“Thanks,” whispered Wilhelm, shaking his head, as if trying to clear it.

“You okay?” Simon asked him. Wilhelm smiled a little, but didn’t reply. 

He didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to tell the truth, not in that moment. And the truth was that he was still worried about the way Simon had spoken last night, the things he had said. Simon had seemed normal earlier in the morning, he had seemed relaxed and even a little cheerful, but Wilhelm still worried that the idea hadn’t left his mind, of coming clean. 

Of course Wilhelm felt guilty too, about a lot of things; provoking August, accusing Alexander, denying the video, lying to Simon, causing a national crisis and an international furore…

But did that mean they deserved to have a private moment turned into a viral video? Did they deserve to be forced to act like it was no big deal? Did it mean that they deserved to be blackmailed and threatened?

It took him a moment to realize that Simon was still staring at him, concerned. Wilhelm had no idea what his own face was doing, but he guessed he didn’t look exactly chill. 

It was like they took turns being worried about each other, trying to comfort each other, trying to deal with whatever was filling them with dread at the moment. Like Simon said: there was always something. 

I don’t belong here, Wille…

I’m just like him…

The classroom had gone silent, the only sound being the scratching of pencils on paper, and the squeak of the marker as the teacher wrote on the board, her back to the class. Wilhelm looked down at Simon’s left hand, which was sliding the Garfield pencil case toward Wilhelm, fingers prying it open expertly.

Wilhelm’s eyes flickered to Simon’s face, which didn’t look concerned anymore, but hopeful. Wilhelm smiled, delighted, and fished a pencil from the metal case, before they both turned forward, to pay attention to class.

He looked down at Simon’s hand, still by the pencil case, and gently tugged at the sleeve of his sweater. Simon glanced at him curiously. Wilhelm tugged a bit more until both their hands were beneath the desk, and then he slid his hand into Simon’s, interlacing their fingers, palms pressed against each other, and gave a gentle squeeze. 

Simon tried to keep a straight face, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, caressing Wilhelm’s thumb with his own. 

“Do you guys have any preference for what to watch tonight?” 

Wilhelm looked up from his phone at Maddie. They stood in line at the cafe, killing time whilst Felice and Simon were in choir practice. 

“Um…” Wilhelm started distractedly, as he finished typing a text to Simon.

- At the cafe. Do you want anything to drink?

“Not really. Something fun? Funny? Scary? Action?”

“That’s not narrowing it down at all,” Maddie said with a roll of her eyes. “In that case, do you mind if I put together a little marathon?”

Wilhelm chuckled. “Marathon of what?”

“Oh, no, it has to be a surprise,” she said with a mischievous smile. 

He laughed. Maddie was so strange sometimes. “Sure, why not?”

She ordered her coffee and went to sit with Fredrika and Stella in one corner. Wilhelm checked his phone to see if Simon had replied, before paying for his coffee. He’d order something for Simon later. 

“Isn’t it just ironic that, the moment you come out, all these girls suddenly seem interested in you?”

Wilhelm looked up to find Vincent, who had been standing behind him in line. 

“Hi, Vincent,” he said unenthusiastically.

The prefect smiled wryly, gesturing toward the table where Madison had just taken a seat. Wilhelm made the mistake of glancing in that direction, and for a split second met both Fredrika’s and Stella’s eyes. Stella immediately looked away, like someone caught red-handed, but Fredrika gave him a little wave. He gave her a fleeting polite smile before turning back to his phone, deliberately not looking at Vincent.

“I think you’re confusing irony with exaggeration,” he said. 

“Never mind, you’re no fun anymore,” Vincent said, leaning against the counter and regarding Wilhelm with disappointment and a bit of disgust. “What is up with people? Everyone seems to have lost their sense of humor. It’s unbearable. What?” he suddenly shouted at the cashier, who was trying to get his attention. “Oh, yeah, a medium black coffee and a gum for later.”  

Wilhelm finally got a reply from Simon, followed by a text from Felice.

- Nothing for me, thanks. *heart emoji*

- I need coffee! Would you be a dear and order me an oatmeal latte? Thank you!! *face blowing a kiss emoji*

“Hi, could I add an oatmeal latte to my order? Thank you,” Wilhelm said, drowning out Vincent talking beside him. “Sorry, what?”

“I said,” Vincent started, looking vexed, “heard that you don’t want your boyfriend to be initiated as a member of Forest Ridge.”

“I don’t want him to be bullied, no,” Wilhelm replied cuttingly, mentally urging the barista to hurry up. Vincent scoffed. 

“It’s not bullying, is it? It’s a rite of passage.” 

“Yep, a rite of passage of allowing people to bully each other.”

“Seems to me that you’re the one exaggerating.”

“Whatever.”

“I mean, don’t tell me you’re upset about yours,” Vincent asked, eyeing him curiously. 

“I’m not,” Wilhelm lied. “But I don’t want him to go through that shit anyway.”

You don’t want him to go through that shit, or he doesn’t, and you’re yielding to his every whim?”

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. “Both,” he said. Vincent scoffed again and shook his head in disbelief.

“Such bullshit. It’s not that big a deal. And it’s fucking tradition, which I see you have lost all respect for. Not even royals get special treatment. You didn’t. Even Erik didn’t.” Vincent made a face and pretended to slap his own forehead. “Ugh, sorryyyy, I forgot. I’m not supposed to bring Erik up in front of you,” he said in a tone that sounded very unapologetic. 

Wilhelm stared at him, confused. “What?” 

“Oh! Didn’t you know?” Vincent said, again in a fake surprised tone. “Your boyfriend was very clear that I shouldn’t talk about Erik with you or him, or around you or him, or anywhere near both of you.” 

Wilhelm kept his face neutral. “Did he?”

“Yes. And I was under the impression that that was your choice, and he was just letting me know.”

Wilhelm stood there, trying to figure out if Vincent was making it up to tease him. It didn’t sound like Vincent would make up something like that for the heck of it.

The barista handed him the two beverages. He smiled at her before turning back to Vincent. 

“He must have had his reasons. So I suggest you respect them,” he said. “Just like I hope you to respect his reasons for not doing the hazing.”

Vincent scoffed yet again, mouth slightly open, incredulous. 

“So, I’m really not allowed to talk about Erik with you?”

Wilhelm thought about it, and smirked. 

“I guess not. See you later.” He turned to leave. 

“Wait.” Vincent grazed his shoulder to get his attention back, and Wilhelm stopped.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if there’s something going on between you and August. You both have been weird with each other for a while now, and he just keeps acting stranger,” he asked, dropping his voice to above a whisper, fake concern now etched on his face. Wilhelm sighed and smirked.

“With all due respect, Vincent, it’s none of your fucking business.” 

“Does it have something to do with the fact that you dragged him in front of the Society and contradicted him, all to protect your boyfriend?”

Wilhelm kept his face stony. Out of all the people at the school, he certainly hadn’t expected Vincent to be the one with the deductive power to start toeing closer to the truth. 

“If you really want to know, perhaps you should ask him, see what he tells you. He’s your friend, after all,” he replied as politely as possible, and walked off, headed for the locker area, to wait for Simon and Felice. 

Choir practice was followed by fencing, and Wilhelm had been so preoccupied with other things, and trying to focus on his footwork and technique and his recover, that he forgot to join the RC meeting. He checked his phone later, after he had showered, and found an email from Farima with notes from the meeting. He didn’t open it; he’d look into it over the weekend.

“And they don’t mind that you skipped the meeting?” Simon asked, as they got dressed. Wilhelm shrugged.

“My mum wasn’t in it either. She’s on a trip to Japan.”

Simon didn’t ask much else, even though it was only them in the lockers. They usually waited until everyone had gone before showering and changing. Simon always preferred it, and now Wilhelm did too. 

After dinner, they went back to Wilhelm’s room and hung out while they waited until the third years at Forest Ridge would be pre-gaming in the common room and in their rooms, so they could sneak out and head to Manor house. When it was nearly time to go, Simon got up from the bed to go pack and get ready. 

“Do we have any snacks left?” he asked.

“Hm, I don’t think so, I think we ate them all on Wednesday,” Wilhelm said, standing up too. He plugged his phone to charge the battery; he alarm set for five o’clock to go to Simon’s house, otherwise Malin and Joakim would have a fit. 

“They didn’t even last us a week. We’re gluttons,” Simon mused. Wilhelm laughed.

“We’ll get more on the way back from your house. Maybe this time I won’t run into anyone we don’t want to see,” he added with a grimace. Simon let out a derisive laugh. 

“Okay, I’ll be in my room,” he announced, and left. 

Wilhelm packed his own bag with clothes, shoes, socks, underwear, his journal, and toiletries. He laid out the clothes he’d put on in the morning, put on Simon’s hoodie and his shoes and grabbed his coat and phone. He checked to see if Felice had texted him, then opened the door.

Seven figures wearing masks stood right outside his door and turned to him. 

Wilhelm froze, hand tight around the doorknob.

“Hi Wille, it’s just us. We’re here to collect the new guy,” Lukas’s voice announced from behind a mask. 

“It’s cool, we’re just… we’re not going to be rough or anything, it’s just for… fun,” Walter’s voice said.

Wilhelm felt like the edges of his vision darkened and blurred. His whole body felt numb. 

He couldn’t speak, his throat felt dry. They stood there, looking back at him, before two of them turned toward Simon’s door behind them. They pushed it open and walked in. 

A loud expletive in Spanish came from within the room.

“Simon, it’s us! It’s us!” one of the figures, Henry, said.

“What the fuck! Get the fuck out of my room! I said no! I’m not fucking doing this!” 

“Listen! Hey! Listen!” Lukas’s voice yelled. “I know you don’t want to, but I promise it’ll be quick and painless, we don’t want to hurt you, we’re just- OW!”

“GET. THE FUCK. OUT.”

“Simon, sorry, but it’s tradition, and we don’t want to have to drag you but we will. Here, you want some vodka? Take the edge o- HEY NO! Don’t be like that! You’ll smash it!” Henry shouted.

“Where’s Wille? Did you do something to him?” Simon asked.

“Wille’s outside. He’s waiting. He’s coming too.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he’s right here!” Albin announced, moving away from the doorway and gesturing toward Wilhelm.

Wilhelm could now see into Simon’s room. Simon stared at him through the open door, a look of absolute disbelief on his face. 

Wilhelm felt detached from his own body, like he was just a minuscule particle of himself floating inside of his eye, watching, static. 

“Look, the easier you take it, the quicker this will be over with, and I promise it won’t be bad, just- just go with it,” Lukas said. “Let’s go!”

“Yeah, let’s go!” 

Simon’s wide eyes disappeared when a dark sack fell over his head, and two figures grabbed him on each side, chanting and shouting, pulling him along, out of the room and down the hallway.

He only managed to follow because two of the boys, presumably Walter and Evan, threw their arms around him and propelled him forward, but not before putting a mask over his face. The inside smelled of sweat and spit and something acrid. His vision was blocked by the narrow slits of the eyes, but he could just make out the group walking ahead of him. 

He only knew they were outside now because it was cold, and he was only wearing Simon’s hoodie, but he couldn’t process where they were going. He couldn’t feel his feet, his arms, his skin.

They were singing or chanting, but Wilhelm couldn’t understand what the words were. It felt like his ears were covered with cotton, and every voice sounded muffled. It felt like they walked for hours, and suddenly he saw the fountain. They walked around the edge and two figures pushed Simon toward the statue of David in one corner. The same statue that he was tied to the previous year. 

Wilhelm pulled his arm free from the person next to him and pushed the mask off his face. The air felt cold in his nostrils and throat. 

“Stop…” he said, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. His chest felt tight. 

The two figures pulling Simon along stopped in front of the statue, and a third one produced a rope from a bag. One of them forced Simon’s arms around the statue, making him hug it, and the other wound the rope around the wrists. Two others started pulling things out of a bag. 

“No, no… Stop… Don’t-” Wilhelm said again, watching in horror. The noise around him grew, became clearer. Over the hoots and howls of the other boys, he heard a noise that sounded like a gagged scream. He couldn’t tell if it was coming from Simon or if he was imagining it. 

“Wait, NO! No No NO! STOP! STOP IT!” 

He pushed forward and shoved the boys away, who shouted in surprise. Someone booed. 

“STOP! NO! We said NO! I told you we were NOT DOING THIS! What part of that did you NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND!” Wilhelm yelled, suddenly full of adrenaline, as he quickly untied Simon, removed the sack over his head and threw it at the nearest person. It was Walter, who had just taken off his mask. 

“You okay?” Wilhelm whispered. 

Simon didn’t respond.

“Wille, we weren’t going to… do anything bad,” Walter sighed, pushing his hair off his face. “We were going to be gentle. We were only going to,” he gestured sprinkling with his fingers, “cover him with flour and eggs and-”

“But I said NO! WE SAID NO!” Wilhelm shouted, grasping Simon’s hand tightly. He glanced around, relieved that they were all removing their masks. He spotted Alexander just behind Walter, eyes on the ground. 

“We weren’t going to rough him up or anything,” Henry interjected. “We promised to be mild and gentle, and we were going to do just that. Simon, you’re okay, right?”

Simon only met Henry’s eyes for one moment, but his mouth was tense. Wilhelm looked at his face, but Simon didn’t meet his eyes. 

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE! FUCK YOU! FUCK ALL OF YOU!” he shouted, and put an arm around Simon and led him away.

“We’re sorry, Wille! Sorry, Simon!” he heard Albin call. 

“See? I told you he’d be pissed!” Walter shouted at Henry. 

“This wasn’t my idea! Lukas said-”

“Wait, what about the party?” Lukas called after them. “How are we going to get in now?”

“Shut up, you fucking blew it,” Henry yelled at him. 

“Me? I was just…”

Their voices became unintelligible as Wilhelm and Simon walked further away. 

It felt like forever to get back to the house. He was cold, his ears were ringing, his body felt numb in parts and cramping up in others. The adrenaline was leaving him.

The boys had left a window open purposely. Wilhelm climbed in first before helping Simon up onto the windowsill and down again. 

They made their way down the hallway, Wilhelm keeping a protective arm around Simon, as if he expected someone to burst through a door or the walls or the ceiling or the floor and try to snatch Simon and drag him away from him again. 

“You okay?” he repeated, throat still painfully dry. Simon still didn’t respond. Wilhelm didn’t say anything else either.

When they neared Wilhelm’s room, Simon suddenly slid out of Wilhelm’s grasp and pushed his way into his own room, and slammed the door in Wilhelm’s face. He heard the click of the lock. 

Wilhelm stood there, petrified. 

He felt dizzy and nauseated. He tried to take a deep breath, but it made it worse.

Visions of horrifying masked faces flashed in his mind, and the memory of a smell of plastic and old fabric, and of a putrid taste in his mouth. 

One hand on the wall to steady himself, he navigated toward the bathroom as fast as he could on shaky legs. He pushed through the door and into the nearest cubicle, sunk to his knees and vomited into the toilet. 

The ringing in his ears grew, he couldn’t even hear himself retching, but he felt the heaving and the gasping for air, and smelled the vomit. His head swam. Trembling hands clutched at the edges of the basin.

His gut empty now, he stayed down, legs unresponsive. He was too dizzy to move.  

However long he stayed there, it wasn’t long before he felt another wave of nausea. He heaved into the bowl, but nothing came. He dryheaved again, eyes squeezed shut, tears pooling in the corners. Cold sweat covered his body,

Gasping for air, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, yanking a bit of toilet paper to wipe his mouth, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and jumped in surprise. He couldn’t turn his head to see who it was. He was trembling all over, trembling breath, trembling hands as he signaled to whomever it was to wait a moment, in case he would be sick again.

Nothing else came. The hand reached over his head and flushed the toilet.

“Come on, let me help you,” Simon’s voice said, the hand on his shoulder now hooking under his armpit to help him to his feet, his other hand around his back to steady him. 

Wilhelm felt overwhelmingly ashamed all of a sudden. 

Simon led him to the sinks, and Wilhelm rinsed his mouth and splashed his face. He avoided his eyes as Simon handed him a paper towel to dry his face. Then he led him out and down the hallway, walking slowly, Wilhelm keeping one hand on the wall until they reached his room. 

He sat in bed, still so nauseated that he didn’t know if it was better to lie down or sit up, so he kind of leaned against the wall, a pillow behind his shoulders, taking slow, deep breaths. Simon appeared above him, a glass of water in his hand. 

“Thanks,” he said in a small, breathy voice. His throat felt raw. He took a tiny sip, waited for it to go down, before looking up at Simon again. 

Simon looked so angry. He also looked… disappointed.

Wilhelm felt like such an asshole. He was falling apart, being sick, needing help, when the one who got dragged across school grounds with a sack over his head, who was nearly tied to a statue and tortured in some way, was Simon. 

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. 

Simon let out an exasperated breath, nostrils flaring, arms crossed, eyes darting around. He turned and sat across from him on the other bed. 

“Simon, you okay?” Wilhelm repeated. Simon closed his eyes for a long time, breathing hard, before he finally looked at Wilhelm, face red, eyes full of tears.

“You told me that I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to.”

“I know,” Wilhelm said, standing up slowly, still dizzy. He left the glass on the desk and knelt in front of Simon.

“You told me that you hated your initiation, that you felt horrible-”

“I know, Simon, I’m so sorry,” he repeated, reaching for Simon’s hands, but Simon pulled them out of his grasp, like he had been burned. 

“Why did you let them, then?” Simon asked in an angry hiss. 

Wilhelm shook his head, not knowing what to say.

“I didn’t… I don’t know what happened…” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t think they’d go through with it. Even Nils said that it’s just a stupid tradition, that if you don’t do it then-”

“WHO FUCKING CARES WHAT NILS SAYS.”

Wilhelm felt sick again. 

Simon closed his eyes again. “And I told you I didn’t want to give them the slightest chance to bully me. I told you I didn’t want to do a fucking initiation, especially not after you told me about yours, and you told me I didn’t have to…”

“I’m really sorry. I should have known they’re assholes…” Wilhelm repeated, feeling like an absolute shit. “I’m so, so, SO sorry, Simon. I should’ve known they wouldn’t fucking listen…”

Simon’s nostrils flared more. He was breathing hard, his eyes full of hot tears. 

“But you didn’t fucking stop them!” he shouted.

Wilhelm fell silent. Simon was fuming, and nothing he said would make it better right now; he needed to let him calm down.

He breathed through a fresh wave of nausea, sitting back on his heels. 

“Why didn’t you stop them?” Simon asked, expectant, but more disappointed than angry now.

Wilhelm swallowed hard, jaw clenched, feeling awful, like he might throw up again.

“I’m sorry…” he finally muttered. “I… couldn’t… I froze. I- I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.”

He rubbed his forehead with trembling fingers, his head feeling cold. 

“I don’t know what happened, I just… I couldn’t move, I… please… I’m sorry…”

Simon was still frowning, but let out a tired sigh. “It’s okay-”

“No, no, this time I am sorry, I should have stopped them… sooner,” Wilhelm said, rubbing the sides of his neck and shoulders, like he wanted to claw his skin off, “I’m, I’m so sorry that I even let them start. I’m, Simon. I’m-”

He was breathing too hard, too fast, he felt dizzy and nauseated again.

This isn’t about you, you asshole, he berated himself.

“Wille-”

“Wait, no, I am really sorry. I should have done something, but instead I fucking froze, and you were almost- ugh, I’m a fucking asshole-”

“STOP.” 

Wilhelm stopped when Simon’s hand covered his mouth. Simon’s frown was of concern now.

“I need you to stop. Don’t-… don’t say that. You’re not an asshole, you-” he sighed, tired. “I don’t like it when you talk to yourself like that.”

Simon knelt beside him on the floor and moved his hand to his shoulder. 

“You’re not an asshole…” he started. “Shit, I’m sorry too, I didn’t know what was happening to you. I should have knowing that it wasn’t… that you weren’t letting them on purpose, but I didn’t know what to do…” 

He sighed, thumb caressing the side of Wilhelm’s neck. 

“And I should have stopped them myself. I guess I was waiting for you to say or do something, and when you didn’t, I was… angry, and… disappointed, that you didn’t stand up for me. But I should have stood up for myself too.”

Wilhelm’s eyes filled with tears. He did want to stand up for Simon, he never in a million years would want to let anyone lay a hand on Simon, even if it was supposed to be ‘harmless’. He had said he wanted to be Simon’s knight, and he was already letting him down. 

He had broken his promise. He told himself he’d never break a promise to Simon again, and he just had. 

Simon’s face finally softened. He grabbed Wilhelm’s hands, when he had pulled away from his touch before. 

“Thank you for stopping them,” he said finally. “I’m sorry that I got so angry.”

“No, I’m angry at myself too.”

Simon shook his head. “I’ve been angry about… everything. I just feel tense all the time. But I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”

Wilhelm sniffled. “Now who’s saying sorry too much?”

Simon laughed. He frowned again.

“Were you… did you freeze because you were… in shock?”

“What?”

“Like you had post-traumatic stress, or something like that? Because of your initiation?”

Wilhelm blinked. “Oh… I don’t know… is that what it is?”

“I don’t know,” Simon shrugged. “If you were traumatized enough, then maybe, yeah. I think… I think that’s what happens. I’ve had that before… when the video came out, I kind of… shut down, like I couldn’t move until someone else pushed me. I felt sick.”

Wilhelm nodded. He remembered feeling like this before, once. But not when the video came out; that day he remembered having a panic attack, running away and feeling dizzy and sick and throwing up, so ill that Malin and Joakim had to half-carry him to his dorm. 

Today was more like the day that Erik died. 

There was a ringing in his ears, and Anette took the phone out of his hand, and she and Boris sat him down. He didn’t know how long he sat there, and for a moment he forgot why he was there at all. The next thing he really remembered was being in the back of the car on his way back to Stockholm. But he couldn’t remember collapsing on the floor in the middle of the main hall, or the sobs that finally erupted from his body; that part he found out later from Boris.

“I didn’t know that it had affected you so much. I’m sorry,” Simon said. 

Wilhelm shrugged. “I’m still sorry, too.”

“What made you react?”

“I thought I heard you screaming or… making a noise like… like you were scared or uncomfortable.”

Simon shook his head. “I wasn’t. I tried not to make any noise. I know they might not have been trying to be cruel, but in the off-chance that they were, I didn’t want them to know that I was scared or uncomfortable.”

Wilhelm felt hot tears welling up in his eyes. “I was so sure I could hear it, maybe it was just in my head. I had-… like, flashbacks to mine. I felt sick…” He rubbed his arms, feeling something crawling under his skin. “I should have stopped them sooner. You shouldn’t have gone through that.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. You stopped them. We’re okay.”

Wilhelm groaned. “I fucking hate them so much…”

“Yeah, me too,” Simon said, scooting to sit between Wilhelm’s legs, pressing closer, arms wrapping around each other. Simon rested his cheek on Wilhelm’s shoulder. Wilhelm immediately felt better; it was amazing how quickly a hug from Simon could cure him of anything. 

“Wille… I really need you to stop being so hard on yourself,” Simon mumbled. 

Wilhelm didn’t say anything. 

Simon lifted his head slowly and met his gaze. “I know I just reacted… harshly, I was mad at you, and I hadn’t given you a chance to explain… I guess I’m learning to control that too.” 

“I appreciate that you’re trying to hold yourself accountable- oh wow, I’m so versed in psychology terminology now,” he mused, making Wilhelm chuckle. “I’m glad that you’re really trying, and I’m proud of you, of us, for getting better at talking, and I know we’re still working on it. But… just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean that I want you to be mean to yourself.” 

He tenderly pushed a lock of hair of out Wilhelm’s forehead. “Sometimes you’re really not nice to yourself, and you… you don’t deserve that. I need you to be nicer to yourself. Okay?”

“Okay,” Wilhelm licked his lips. “I’m sor-”

“Noooooo,” Simon rolled his eyes at him. “Not ‘sorry’.”

Wilhelm let out a breathy chuckle. “Okay,” he said in a small voice.

“Good.” 

Wilhelm bit his lip before speaking.

“Last night… you were really hard on yourself too. And it scared me.”

Simon looked a little surprised. “Right…”

Wilhelm pressed his forehead to Simon’s. “I’ll be nicer to myself, if you are nicer to yourself too.”

Simon nodded, smiling. “Okay.”

“Agreed?”

“Agreed.” 

Simon kissed him, even though Wilhelm pointed out that his breath was probably terrible because he had just been sick.

“But do you feel better?”

“Yeah… maybe I just need another moment.”

“We can stay like this,” Simon said, as they melded back together. “Unless you still want to go to Felice’s.”

They agreed they’d go in a bit, but neither made a move to get up. Wilhelm wondered if it was even safe to venture out, if the third years had left, if the first years were coming back. If he saw any of his housemates, he might end up punching them. He didn’t want to see anyone right now, neither Lukas nor Henry nor Alexander nor any of the first years, but especially not Vincent or August. 

He suddenly remembered something. 

“Did you tell Vincent not to talk about Erik to me?” 

He felt Simon become very still. He glanced at his face, and saw the embarrassed look. 

“Yeah… I… yeah…” Simon sheepishly said.

“Oh… okay.”

There was a pause. Simon sat up, eyes on his lap. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Wilhelm shook his head. “No, no, it’s not that I have a problem with it but… I was just wondering… if you had any particular reason?”

Simon opened and closed his mouth several times, as if he couldn’t get the words out.

“I know how much you loved your brother, because of how you talk about him,” he finally said, “and I tried to imagine what it would feel like, if it were me, to have people just talk to me about someone I lost, and for whom I cared so much, and I… I just don’t like the way Vincent brings him up. It sounds so… I don’t know… I just can’t stand it. I don’t know if it bothers you, but it bothers me, and I… I didn’t want to hear it anymore. I’m sorry.”

Something warm and yet heavy filled his chest. Wilhelm nodded. “No, I get it. You’re right. I also don’t like how people talk about him most of the time. So… thanks.”

Simon smiled, prompting Wilhelm to smile too, relieved and grateful. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could just tell people not to talk about Erik to him. Because of course people who had known Erik wanted to talk about him, especially to Wilhelm.

But people hadn’t known Erik. Even he hadn’t known Erik. Not completely.

Wilhelm and Erik knew things about each other that no one else would ever get to know, they knew these things because they were brothers, and they learned to read each other throughout their lives, and knew how to push each other’s buttons, but also how to comfort each other, and they understood each other in ways that no one else ever would. They alone knew what it was like, to be this thing that they were, to grow up this way. It was a very unique experience, alien to any outsider.

But even he didn’t get to see all the sides of Erik. His brother had been smart, and kind, and funny, but he needed to be much more, and he needed to be much less, and so maybe there were many Eriks. Just like there were supposed to be many Wilhelms. 

Maybe Erik was okay with being split into many versions of himself, like it was a game or a show. But Wilhelm didn’t. He needed to be one version. Otherwise he would never feel whole. 

Simon’s smile disappeared, a little frown etched between his eyebrows again.

“What?” Wilhelm asked.

“I guess… I’m also… a bit sad.”

“About what?”

Simon hesitated again, before he let out a long sigh. He bit his lip.

“I guess… I can’t help but wonder… what your brother would have thought… of me,” he said carefully. “I didn’t get to meet him, and sometimes I think, if we had met, if he had known me as your boyfriend… would he have been cool with it… or…”

The heaviness grew. And yet Wilhelm smiled. 

“I see.” 

“I guess, since you loved him so much, you would care a lot about his opinion, and then…”

“Look, I’m honestly not trying to reassure you, but I genuinely think that Erik would have liked you. A lot. Like, he’d probably be fascinated by you.”

Simon laughed, albeit a little nervously. “But… what do you think he would have felt about this whole thing? Do you think he would have been cool about us? I’m not saying that he might not have been cool about you. But… me?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “You know what? Unfortunately, Erik doesn’t get a say anymore,” he said. “If he were still here, then he’d still be the Crown Prince, then there would be a lot less pressure on me, on us.” 

Simon nodded slowly. 

“I honestly don’t know what he would have thought,” Wilhelm continued. “I hope he would have been supportive. But that’s all I get. A hope that doesn’t matter, doesn’t change anything. Because he’s not here anymore.” 

There was something in hearing himself speak, like he hadn’t even expected himself to say that, that made the heaviness disappear. Like he hadn’t realized it was there, until it was gone. 

He leaned against the bed and put an arm around Simon’s shoulders, and Simon leaned into the embrace. 

“I’m pretty sure that Erik knew, about me. Or at least… suspected,” he said, remembering something. “We never really talked about it, but…”

He stopped, voice caught in his throat.

“What?” Simon asked, but Wilhelm shook his head. 

He wanted to tell him, wanted to share with Simon how he and Erik basically talked about him that time, that Erik knew he was being weird, tripping over his words because of someone, a crush. That despite Wilhelm not mentioning Simon’s name or the fact he was a boy, Erik had somehow known not to tease him about a girl, like most people would, like Erik had known that it could be… anyone. 

He wanted to tell him that his last conversation with his brother had been about Simon. They both probably thought that they’d have another chance later to talk about it…

In retrospect, it seemed obvious, or maybe it was a comforting thought, to imagine that Erik had been that perceptive of him, that Erik had been the one person who could figure Wilhelm out, that he knew him better than most people, that he couldn’t hide himself from the person whose opinion he cared for the most, and that Erik might have supported him, no matter what. 

Maybe things would have been very different. Maybe not. 

He felt Simon’s hand slipping into his again.

“I’m sorry, I’m…” Wilhelm cleared his throat.

“No, it’s okay,” Simon said, squeezing his hand. 

“I’m just not…”

“It’s okay.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath and squeezed back. He finally looked into Simon’s eyes. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about him with you…” he started, his voice growing thicker. “In fact, you’re probably the only person that I want to talk to about him.” He cleared his throat again. “It’s just… still…”

“I understand,” Simon said. It was his turn to put an arm around Wilhelm’s shoulders, and another arm around his chest. 

Wilhelm nodded. He buried his face in Simon’s neck. 

“I wish he had met you,” he whispered, before his throat became too tight to speak. 

There was no reply, he just felt the arms around him tighten. 

“So, since Wilhelm said that he had no preference on what we watch tonight, I’ve curated a special playlist just for this occasion,” Madison said, turning her laptop for everyone to see. 

“And I had nothing to do with this,” Felice stated, waving a dismissive hand, as she unfurled an extra blanket from the wardrobe and handed it to Simon. 

Wilhelm and Simon laughed as they settled on the floor on top of Maddie’s folded yoga mat, and leaned against Felice’s bed as a backrest. They had finally picked themselves up from the floor and fixed their faces and texted Felice, who told them to come anyway if they still wanted. They snuck out and made the trek toward Manor house, and climbed through Felice’s window. The girls had just made popcorn. 

Wilhelm browsed Maddie’s playlist and groaned. “Are you fucking serious?” he said with a laugh. The playlist included The Princess Bride, Roman Holiday, The Princess Diaries 1 and 2, Ever After, all the versions of Cinderella, AladdinFrozen and Frozen 2, Ella Enchanted, The Prince and Me, Princess Protection Program, all the Shrek movies, and more.

“Oh, I see a trend here,” Simon teased with an amused grin. 

“If I may offer my expert opinion, I would suggest we go chronologically, so we can see the evolution of the princess movie genre,” Maddie announced in an over-the-top voice. “So we shall begin with Crown Princess Ann in ‘Roman Holiday’, played by the wonderful Audrey Hepburn in a performance that earned her an Academy Award,” Madison said, somehow maintaining a completely straight face. “Have you seen this?”

All three of them shook their heads. They turned off most of the lights, and Felice stretched across her bed, leaving enough space for Maddie, who was setting up the movie to project on the wall above Maddie’s bed. Wilhelm and Simon cuddled up under the blanket.

“I’m so sorry for this,” Felice murmured. “I thought she was only like this with me.”

“I heard that,” Maddie said, plopping beside Felice and elbowing her playfully. “You’re gonna love it, I promise. It’s a classic.”

“Didn’t take you for a fan of classic or princess movies, Maddie,” Wilhelm said.

“I like that you haven’t figured me out yet.”

They talked and joked over the movie, but quickly go into it; they all jumped at the same time when Joe Bradley tricks Ann/Anya into thinking that his hand’s been bitten off by the Mouth of Truth sculpture, with Maddie explaining that it was an unscripted moment and Audrey Hepburn’s reaction had been real, and Wilhelm and Simon shared a knowing look as Ann and Joe drove around the city in a Vespa, and they were all slightly horrified about the age difference between Joe and Ann as they kissed by the river, although Maddie stated that Gregory Peck could get it. 

He felt Simon’s arms tighten around his waist, as a crying Ann resigned herself to return to the embassy and go back to her royal life. 

“… were I not completely aware of my duty to my family and my country, I would not have come home tonight… or indeed ever again,” Ann said. 

Wilhelm felt his throat tightening, as Joe and Ann spoke to each other in code, revealing that he knew all along that she was the crown princess; he gave her the pictures that he and his photographer friend took of her during their time in Rome, and each went their separate ways.

“So Maddie, am I correct in assuming that you think Wille is like Audrey Hepburn, then?” Felice asked as the screen faded to black.

“Am I correct in assuming that you think I’m like the princesses in all these movies?” Wille asked, making a face.

“No, silly. Just some of them,” Maddie replied matter-of-factly. 

“Well, you are a lot like Ann, very dramatic and naïve. And cute,” Simon added quickly. Wilhelm scrunched his face at him, which prompted Simon to peck him on the cheek. Maddie and Felice aww’d. A warm feeling bloomed in Wilhelm’s stomach.

“I think Wille is more Buttercup, but the real question is, does that mean Simon is Westley?” Maddie pointed out. 

“Yeah, I don’t know who those are,” Felice stated.

“I do, but I’ve never seen the movie,” Simon admitted.

“Seriously? You guys haven’t watched ‘The Princess Bride’? We need to fix that immediately. You’ll love it. It’s the best one yet.” Maddie started setting up the next movie. “I think we should first watch all the movies before deciding which princess Wille is.”

“Oh, great, I can’t wait,” Wilhelm said sarcastically. Felice and Simon giggled. 

Wilhelm freed his left hand from within the blanket and glanced at his watch. It was past midnight. 

“Ugh, we have to be up in less than five hours…” he said out loud to no one in particular. Disney’s animated Cinderella was playing now. Simon had dozed off on his shoulder, and Maddie had gone to the bathroom. Behind him, Felice stretched, fighting to stay awake.

“Are they still making you go to Simon’s house at an ungodly hour?”

He nodded. “The RC won’t take any chances with the press. Least of all now with that selfie trend.”

She hummed. For a moment he thought she wasn’t really listening. 

“So, what happened?” Felice asked.

“With what?”

“The hazing.”

“Oh, yeah…” he said. “They sort of kidnapped him and tried to ‘mildly’ torture him, so I stopped them, and I had a panic attack or something, and I became sick and we argued, but we’re okay now.” 

“All that at once?” she asked, eyes wide. 

Wilhelm chuckled and told her most of it, going back as far as his conversation with Nils. He hadn’t realized that he and Felice hadn’t had a chance to talk much in between classes. He missed talking to her. 

“Well, at least the third years didn’t get involved,” she said. “I fear someone would have ended up with a bloody nose.”

“Yep. Probably Vincent.”

“Yep.”

Wilhelm made a face. “I had such… strong, disturbing memories from my hazing… I hadn’t realized how much they really stuck with me.”

“Yeah, I imagine it was pretty harsh. Especially since you were alone.”

“Yeah.”

“That was August’s doing, wasn’t it? He is really just… the worst.”

“Yeah…”

Felice looked toward the bathroom door, then at Simon. 

“Um… I think you should know…” she started, biting her lip. “Maddie knows.”

Wilhelm turned to her, confused. “Knows what?”

“About… August.”

“You mean…”

“That he… posted the…” she trailed off and sighed.

He looked at her face. She wasn’t lying. Dread filled him.

“How-”

“She won’t tell,” Felice interrupted. “She knows that it’s a secret. And I trust her.”

“But… how did she…?”

Felice bit her lip again, her face red. “I might have said something that made her… connect the dots. Sorry.”

Wilhelm shook his head. “Oh… it’s okay… it’s what I was afraid of, that someone else might figure it out, much like you did.”

“But I promise, the information is safe with her.”

“Okay.” Wilhelm started nodding. “Actually… that…”

That gave him another idea. Or rather, that helped with the idea that he already had.

He hadn’t wanted anyone else to be involved, but there was a chance that it would be necessary. 

Maddie came back from the bathroom, and climbed over Felice back to her spot on the bed. 

“Aww, I missed Bibbity-bobbity-boo…” she said, before realizing Wilhelm and Felice were staring at her. “What?”

Wilhelm nudged Simon gently.

“Simon.”

“Hm…”

“Time to get up. We have to go soon.”

“Hmmmmm…”

“Listen. Maddie knows about August too.”

Simon opened his eyes, frowning, then he looked aghast for a moment, glancing at Felice and Madison in turn.

“Yeah… I’m really sorry,” Maddie said. “You know, whenever I think he can’t be a bigger asshole, he just finds a way to surprise us, doesn’t he? But I promise I won’t tell anyone or do anything. I guess I’ll just wait for karma to do its job.”

“Oh fuck…” Simon stood up, a panicked look on his face. Wilhelm followed him. 

“No, it’s okay, listen,” he dropped his voice to as imperceptible a whisper as he could, “I was thinking that, if we tell them the rest… maybe they can help us, too.”

Simon shook his head slowly, still panicking.

“What? No… because… then… then they’ll know what I did.”

“Yes, but they won’t… I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“Wilhelm, no…”

“Listen, I get it. But… we need help. And we don’t have a lot of people to trust, but I think we can trust them.” 

Simon met Wilhelm’s eyes for a long time, before he breathed out and nodded.

“Okay.”

Wilhelm turned back to the girls, who were sharing confused looks. 

“We can’t wait for karma to do its job, unfortunately,” he started.

He told them the whole story as concisely as he could, how he and Simon had started, how it all changed when he became Crown Prince, how the Society welcomed him into their exclusive circle, and how the night of the video actually happened, leaving room for Simon to interject; Simon, however, sat on the edge of Maddie’s bed, hands on his knees, slightly pale and morose, saying nothing.

It wasn’t much easier for Wilhelm, to tell them about how August had obtained the drugs, how Alexander became involved, and how Sara had unwittingly almost messed everything up. 

He watched the realization hit Felice about how high the stakes were, that morning in the shooting range. 

By the time he finished, the movie had ended and the room was dark again. Felice sat up and reached for the light beside her bed.

“Ugh, fucking asshole…” she hissed, shaking her head.

“I knew he was even worse than I thought,” Maddie mumbled. 

Wilhelm glanced at Simon, who finally looked up at them. 

“Um… so you guys are okay with…” Wilhelm started. Felice sighed and looked at Simon.

“I mean… sorry to be blunt, but… that was a really stupid thing to do. But… I can’t imagine what made you do it, and of course I don’t think you deserve to have your life ruined because of it.”

“Of course not. It was mistake,” Maddie added. 

“I just… ugh, it’s like… you got involved with the absolute worst person.”

“The most conniving snake.”

There was a silence.

“But you’re not a dealer,” Felice said. It was more of a question. Simon shook his head vehemently. 

“No.” 

Another silence, longer this time, as the girls silently communicated with each other again. 

Felice let out a heavy sigh and nodded. “What do we need to do?”

Wilhelm smiled. “You’ll help us?”

With a little shrug, Felice nodded. “I mean… yeah, sure, anything to screw August over.”

They all looked at Maddie, who was just happily playing with her own hair and nodding.

“Oh you know I fucking hate his guts, I’d gladly do anything to wipe that smug look off his turd face.”

“Okay, well, um…” Wilhelm said, relief washing over him as he sat beside Simon, reaching for his hand and squeezing impatiently. “Well, I sort of have a plan already, which is a crazy, stupid plan, but maybe… maybe with your help now, and with a couple more people, it might not seem so crazy and stupid anymore.”

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Felice said with a chuckle.

“Speak for yourself. You had me at ‘crazy and stupid’,” Maddie stated. 

Notes:

All I want for Christmas is for my babies to be able to catch a fucking break.
Hope you liked this chapter, even though a few people were hoping that Simon wouldn’t be hazed. Technically, he wasn’t. But as promised, it ended well.

I’m going to start posting some individual vignettes and FutureHC fics related to this fic, so I’m going to make this into a series probably. Be on the lookout for a follow up FutureHC chapter to this one, a little Christmas treat to my readers (but mostly to myself).
And if you follow me on Tumblr at www.tumblr.com/retrieve-the-kraken, I’m posting a poll where you get to vote which movie princess Wille is most like. Or rather how his friends would vote. Or you can tell me right here, and also tell me which princess movie character Simon is most like.

Chapter 26: Second chances

Summary:

Her whole life, Sara wanted to be accepted.
Sara POV.

Notes:

A team is assembled. But tensions are high amongst some of the members.
Listen, I’m still reeling from the first official pictures from YR3, so it’s a real wonder that I managed to focus on this chapter long enough to finish it.
I need to finish this fic before the trailer comes out and my brain really actually melts and I can’t think of anything else anymore…
TW: mentions of bullying, mentions of substance use and substance abuse, mentions of trauma, a lot of negative self-talk and self-deprecation.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When Sara was little, the one thing she knew was that she loved horses.

She loved them so much that all she wanted for her birthday was to ride a horse for the first time. 

When she turned five years old, her parents took her for a picnic in a children’s farm in Linköping, and she got to ride on a shetland pony named Bolero, and she had never been so happy in her life.

It was one of the few good memories she had of her father, before everything happened, or started happening; him walking alongside her on the pony, one hand on Sara’s back, to catch her in case she slipped off.

But she was in her element. She was a natural. 

She smiled at him, laughed even, and waved at her mother, watching from the other side of the fence with three-year-old Simon in her arms.

Sara realized later that when she was little there were few things that made her smile and even fewer that made her laugh.

When Sara was told that she might be able to switch to Hillerska, she got excited for more than one reason.

The main one being that she couldn’t stand being at Marieberg one more second. 

The other one was that there was a riding program at Hillerska. And an excellent one. 

They had their own stables, and top trainers working with the students. Many of the top riders in Swedish history graduated from Hillerska, and a few even represented Sweden at the Olympics.

Sara hadn’t ridden a horse since she was five years old, not by herself at least. So she didn’t know if she could. But she wanted to try. 

Though she knew that she’d need to have her own horse for that. 

So when she was asked if she was participating in any sports, there was only one answer.

“Horses,” she said confidently. “I’d like to be able to work with the horses.”

“You don’t want to ride?” asked headmistress Anette Lilja.

“I don’t have a horse.”

“Well, okay,” Anette said thoughtfully. “Perhaps we can work something out.”

The horse trainer met with her, and showed her around the stables and introduced her to the other riding students. 

There she met Felice and Rousseau.

And out of all the horses in that place, and all the horses she had ever met before (which weren’t many), Rousseau was the best one that Sara had ever encountered. 

Felice didn’t like Rousseau much, or horses in general. How does a person who doesn’t like horses or riding end up with her own horse? Sara only wished she could be so lucky. 

The important thing was that she got to work with them, helping clean the stables and brushing them and cleaning their hooves and keeping the equipment clean and in order. She got to meet Marcus, who was also from Bjärstad and became a friendly face around the stables.

But more importantly, she got to ride, every once in a while. When Felice had difficulty controlling Rousseau, the riding teacher, Jan, would encourage Sara to take over and for Felice to watch and learn. 

Of course, that meant that Felice didn’t like her much at first.

That was part of the other challenge.

At first it was strange and frightening, being surrounded by these girls. Girls who were beautiful and effortlessly cool, who were always dressed in the most fashionable clothes and shoes and bags and jewelry and accessories, who talked about shopping trips and living in big cities and luxurious vacations and traveling the world, who partied and drank and danced, who shared their latest conquests by standing on a table, who could get any guy that they wanted, who looked and acted confident.

That was the other thing that she knew then, besides her love of horses: that she wanted to be like those girls.

She wanted to be chic and beautiful and popular and have cool clothes, but most importantly, to have class, money and confidence. 

She didn’t have money, but maybe she could still be classy and refined, be confident. 

Not that the girls acted refined all the time. They did at meals in the dining hall, in front of housemistress Anna, and at special events. They walked and stood and sat and spoke and ate in a ladylike manner. The rest of the times, they were relaxed or rowdy, loud and giggly, and they drank too much and they flirted and hooked up with boys. 

But that classy behavior, the ladylike manners, that’s what Sara needed to pick up on. And she did, as much as she could.

But it was one thing trying to learn all those things from TikTok and Instagram and YouTube; it was a different thing to be right there, in the dining hall, learning how to sit, how to hold utensils, how to eat and how to drink. How to carry herself, how to dress and be presentable.

And she had always learned these things by observing others.

Having autism spectrum disorder and ADHD, it had always been a challenge for her, knowing how to behave in front of others or in particular situations, picking up on social cues, understanding nuances. Treatment and medication helped her find the right balance to work better at school, to study properly, pay attention, focus. Because she was smart, she had always been smart. She just couldn’t focus properly. And now she was very good at studying, especially when she liked the subjects. 

But there were things that were easier to learn by watching.

So she watched other girls a lot. How they talked, how they behaved, what they did when they were together. 

She watched the boys sometimes, but they weren’t as interesting; she didn’t want to be like them. 

Being friends with Felice had been an unexpected win in her book. A shortcut to her goals of the person she wanted to become.

She definitely wanted to be like her. Felice, who was the most desirable girl in the school, the most popular one, even when she was only a first year. 

Felice, who could have had the crown prince, if the crown prince had been interested in her too. Felice who had another popular, high-class boy after her too.

Felice who didn’t like her at first but quickly became the best friend that she had ever had. 

And she would have done anything to be like her. To have what she had.

So she did. 

After a while, it was difficult to excuse her own behavior even to herself.

The fact that Felice had no choice but to let her family sell Rousseau became blown out of proportion in her mind as the greatest betrayal from her so-called friend. She was angry, sure, but mostly she felt disappointed, and disillusioned, at her vanishing dreams of having everything she had ever wanted. 

And maybe, subconsciously, she was also trying to ignore her own guilt.

She was selfish. She had been so selfish. 

— 

As soon as she came back to class, after having moved out of Manor house, she approached the headmistress about switching to Haga house.

“I’m sorry, but I have no inherence in housing decisions, that is up to the board-” Anette began.

“No, I don’t mean moving to Haga. I mean just… just having lunch in the Haga house dining hall, instead of… instead of Manor house.”

Anette stared at her, a small nod of sympathy. Sara did not want her sympathy; she probably didn’t deserve it.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Anette said thoughtfully, “but Sara, I understand that there’s a situation going on with your friends, and I know it’s difficult, but switching to another house will not make the situation go away. You do not intend to go through the next two years of school avoiding your classmates, do you? I think you’re better off trying to work it out. You should try to discuss this and settle it with your friends.”

Sara nodded and walked away. She did not need to be lectured, she felt bad enough already. 

In the meantime, she’d wait before lunch was almost over, and most of the girls had left, especially Felice and Fredrika and Stella and Maddie, to go into the Manor house dining hall and sit by herself and have some food. Or she’d grab some food and head to the picnic tables outside and eat alone, where no one could see her and sneer at her. 

Or she’d skip lunch altogether. Her appetite had not been the same anyway for a while.

It had been three weeks now, and people still occasionally sneered at her when she walked by, and whispered about her when they thought she was out of earshot, and sometimes even when they knew she wasn’t. They steered clear of her, as if she carried the plague or had grown an extra arm.

She had never felt so lonely before. 

Even her brother wouldn’t look in her direction, or speak to her at all. Even after they pretended to reconcile.

They were far from reconciled. But Linda still didn’t know exactly what happened between them, and she was under the impression that they had somehow worked it out. So they pretended to be civil to each other during the weekend. At school, though, Simon didn’t even bother. 

Sara didn’t mind playing the charade of being on good terms with him. She missed it somewhat, sitting around the table and talking, and eating and feeling comforted somewhat.

She even stopped paying attention to the little details, like the placement of the cutlery or how to hold her utensils, and all the things she used to care about. It felt too much of an imposition now, to act that way. After all, Simon used to tease her about it playfully, but now, under the circumstances, she feared he might resent her even more for it. 

That was until she noticed Wilhelm. 

It hadn’t occurred to her that she had the crown prince himself at the table.

Sure, he was a boy. But she only had to watch him for a bit to realize that Wilhelm did all the right things, and it came so natural to him.

The way he sat at the table and held the cutlery, the way he cut his food and piled it onto the fork, everything, he did it so perfectly, so effortlessly. He didn’t slouch, or raised his tone, or spoke with food in his mouth, or interrupted anyone. 

And Sara couldn’t help but fixate on these things. It’s not that she had completely forgotten how to do it, she was sure she never would, but it felt very different to act that way when everyone else around her did not. 

Simon and Linda were always talking over each other whilst shovelling food into their mouths, always making too much noise with their glasses or their cutlery or their chewing, sitting awkwardly, moving around too much. The same thing happened when Simon’s friends, Ayub and Rosh came over. They were loud, histrionic, messy, elbows everywhere. 

It was unnerving. 

Wilhelm seemed unbothered, though, participating in the conversation, laughing, looking relaxed.

And yet he was impeccable. Not overtly so, not pompous, just… naturally proper.   

It felt different, to follow Wilhelm’s lead. Was etiquette for men very different than for women? She hadn’t looked into that, but maybe not. Maybe most of the rules were the same.

So she poured all her focus on him, at least to distract herself from the fact that Simon still looked tensely at her every once in a while, like he really didn’t want her to be there. And to distract herself from the fact that she could hear him chew. 

That Saturday they had arepas for dinner, stuffed with chicken and veggies. Sara always wondered how she was supposed to be ladylike whilst eating an arepa, or pizza, or a burger, or any type of sandwich. So she observed Wilhelm, who somehow managed to make it look somewhat elegant and polite, and then she did what he did. 

She was watching his posture and examining her own, whilst they talked about Easter and what they were doing during the break.

“You’re always welcome to stay here, Wille,” Linda said, reaching across the table for the veggies. Wilhelm nodded.

“Thank you. I’ll have to see about that. They’re asking me to come to Stockholm for Easter, but I might be able to come back earlier. I don’t know, we’ll see.”

“Or maybe you stay here for a few days and then go to Stockholm,” Simon suggested.

“Yeah, that could work, too.”

“That would be nice. I can make carne mechada, I haven’t made it in a while. You’ll like it,” Linda said.

“Carne mechada,” Wilhelm repeated slowly, like he was trying to remember how to pronounce it, “is that a typical Easter food?”

“Ah, no, no, just a typical dish. Also Simon’s favorite.”

“I thought you said your favorite was, uuuuuh… oh I forgot what you called them.”

“Tostones,” Simon said.

“Tostones,” Wilhelm repeated.

“Yeah, tostones and carne mechada.”

“Oh I see.”

“I’ll make both,” Linda said. 

“I bet I’ll love it,” Wilhelm said, smiling brightly.

Sara watched the way Wilhelm drank water, then replaced the glass on the table, and the way he wiped his mouth on the serviette. She watched him and replicated what he did. 

She hadn’t realised it had been so obvious.

Linda and Wilhelm were still chattering when they finished, and the boys helped her clear the table. Sara stood up from her seat and carried her plate to the kitchen, when Simon tapped her shoulder.

“Sara, can I talk to you for a second?” he said, sounding somewhat casual. “Alone?”

Sara blinked, glancing at Wilhelm and Linda. Linda was prattling on about something, and Wilhelm was beside her, arranging the plates beside the kitchen sink. 

“Uh, sure,” Sara said. Simon stalked off toward his room, and Sara followed him after a second. 

He closed the door and turned toward her, the casualness gone. He looked irked.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said.

Sara’s eyes widened. 

“What am I doing?” she asked hesitantly.

“You know what it is. And you need to stop.”

She blinked again. What did she do? What was she doing? Was it because she didn’t speak at the table anymore? What was wrong with that? She would have thought Simon preferred it that way.

Simon sighed. “You’re imitating him.”

Her eyes widened more, lips parting in surprise.

Had she been that obvious?

She started shaking her head, like she was about to deny it, but changed her mind. 

“I… I didn’t think it was… noticeable,” she said sheepishly.

“It is, of course it is,” he retorted, sounding exasperated. “You were doing everything exactly as he did. It’s weird and it’s not nice, and you need to stop.”

Sara swallowed hard, feeling a lump forming in her throat. 

“Did… did he say something?” she asked, feeling horribly self-conscious.

“No. But he noticed. He’s not going to say anything, though, but I am.”

Sara bit her lip, still shaking her head.

“I didn’t mean to…”

Simon’s expression softened a bit.

“Okay, so just don’t do it anymore.”

Sara thought about all the times that she had watched Felice and Fredrika and Stella and Maddie, all the times she had overtly imitated them, struggling between following the conversation and paying attention to what they did with their serviettes, their utensils, their food. Did they notice too? Did they talk about it behind her back?

“I just don’t understand…” she started, “why it’s bad.”

“Because it’s not nice,” Simon repeated a bit more forceful, a bit more annoyed. “You’re observing him. Like… like he’s a, a, an animal and you’re a biologist studying his behavior. It’s weird.”

That word again. Sara shook her head.

“I’m serious,” Simon started, taking a deep breath. “I get that you think it’s charming or something. But those things, the way he sits and eats and speaks, all those things were drilled into him since he was little, because he’s a royal. And people are watching him all the fucking time. And he just has to deal with that, he has no choice. Do you have any idea what that’s like? But here, he’s supposed to be able to get away from that, this is supposed to be somewhere he can just be himself, relax, and not be fucking watched. So don’t.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way at all. And she had never thought that it might be impolite or nice or weird.

But there was also the way that Simon was talking to her. 

“You never used to call me weird,” she muttered. 

“Well, you never used to ogle my boyfriend and imitate him. So I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Sara couldn’t help the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Her face felt hot. 

She just kept fucking up. She kept doing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing, assuming the wrong thing.

Nothing would ever be the same way again. She could feel it.

Simon sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said, to her surprise, his voice softer. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I… I’m sorry. It’s not… you’re not weird. I shouldn’t have said that. But… I need you to understand.”

She blinked through the tears, wiping her eyes. “I understand. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it anymore.”

He was silent, feet shuffling.  Sara sniffled, trying to compose herself, waiting for him to say something else, wondering if he was waiting for her to leave. 

“It’s not just… because of him,” Simon finally said, his voice still soft. “It’s… I know I used to tease you about liking these things, being proper and posh and wanting… fine things. I didn’t understand how important it was to you, or why. I still don’t, but… the fact that it is a big deal to you makes me feel… weird.”

She stared at him, puzzled. 

“Why?” 

He sighed. “Because it’s, like, I can’t just be myself around you, because you’re probably thinking that I’m not posh enough, I’m not proper enough. And…” 

He stopped.

“But you don’t care about that,” she said. It wasn’t a question. Simon shook his head, slowly, unsure.

“I don’t, but… there’s a lot of people out there now who think those things… on social media, talking about me, analysing me, having opinions about me… I fucking don’t like being watched either, but now I am. It’s just… something that I have to deal with now. But… I don’t have Wille’s upbringing. So I’m constantly reminded that there are people out there probably judging me, saying that I’m not… not good enough for him. That we’re too different. That maybe… I don’t fit in. And I fucking hate it.”

Sara stared at him, at his slumped shoulders. He looked annoyed, but also hurt. 

“I didn’t think you cared anyway. You never cared about these things, and you always seem so confident.”

“I don’t care. And Wille doesn’t care… but… maybe I kind of do, even if I say I don’t, because…” he hesitated, “it makes me feel like nothing I do will ever be enough.” He sighed. “And it makes me worry that maybe, one day, he might care too.”

Sara shook her head more vigorously now. “Now, I know that part is not true.”

He looked up at her. 

Sara licked her lips. “He loves you too much,” she stated, like she knew it as a fact. 

Simon chuckled. “I know.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Sara didn’t know Wilhelm well enough, but she figured that there was no way that the crown prince of Sweden would leave the comforts of Hillerska and Forest Ridge every weekend and turn up at their tiny, ugly, miserable house and hang out with their mum and eat with them and sleep in the smallest room in the smallest bed, and do absolutely nothing exciting all weekend, and tolerate the way that Simon noisily chewed his food and slouched all the time, if he didn’t love him like crazy, adore him even. No way.

She figured, however, that wasn’t the right thing to say, not what Simon wanted to hear or the thing she should point out. 

“Seriously. You could turn into a worm and he’d carry you around in his pocket,” she joked instead.

Simon laughed a genuine laugh. Sara smiled. The last time they had spoken, actually had a conversation, it had been the worst argument they ever had. They had barely exchanged more than a few words since, let alone made each other laugh or smile. 

She really missed it.

Simon’s smile disappeared. He sat in his wobbly desk chair and let out a long, tired sigh.

“I guess I’m just… tense, about everything,” he started. “And having this… massive secret that could blow up and, and fuck up everything, doesn’t help. I’m just… terrified all the time.”

Sara shuffled on her feet. Were they still having a conversation? Should she sit down? She would normally sit on his bed, but now it wasn’t just Simon’s bed, and it felt too intrusive. But there was nowhere else. She hesitated, glancing down at it, before sitting on the very edge, on the corner. She almost expected him to stop her, to tell her to leave. He didn’t.

“And this week has been… just so…” he trailed off, and looked at her. 

“By the way… dad called me.” 

Sara froze. 

“And before you say anything, yes, I was going to tell you,” he added. “I didn’t want to say it in front of mum, though. Or at school.”

She didn’t know what to say. A part of her didn’t want to know.

“When?” she finally asked.

“A week ago. Monday.”

“And… what did he say?”

She listened about how Micke had seen Simon on the news, and Minou from the Royal Court contacted him and asked him not speak to the press, so he called Simon to tell him he wouldn’t. That he wished he had been there for him, with everything that had happened the year before, but that he was happy for him. Simon mentioned the way he sounded, how awkward it felt, how tense it made him.

“And he asked about you and mum. And I asked him not call any of us again. He promised he wouldn’t.”

Sara felt the lump in her throat burning. “He’s not very good at keeping promises.”

“I know. But I have to trust that he will this time,” Simon said. 

She looked down at her hands. “I guess none of us are good at promises.”

“No, I guess not,” he said gently, sympathetic. “But we keep trying, don’t we?”

She wasn’t sure if he meant the promise she had just made, or every other promise they both had made recently. 

There was a knock on the door. Sara stood up immediately. Simon looked at her oddly before he got up too and opened the door. 

“I told you you don’t have to knock,” he said as Wilhelm came in. Sara felt slightly ill at the sight of him now. 

“Of course I do. This isn’t Forest Ridge, this is your house.”

Simon rolled his eyes and grinned. “Whatever.” 

The silence between the three of them felt unending to Sara. She vividly remembered the last time they had been there, the three of them, and the tension in the air, and everything that was said. 

“Am I… interrupting?” Wilhelm asked. 

Simon shook his head. “No, we were just talking.”

“Oh, well,” Wilhelm cleared his throat. “Ayub and Rosh should be here soon, right?”

Sara sighed. “I’m just going to…” she started, as she walked around them toward the door. 

“Wait, um…” Wilhelm suddenly said, glancing between her and Simon. “I thought Sara was…”

Simon shook his head. “Yeah, I… I wasn’t sure if…”

Again, Wilhelm glanced between each, before muttering to Simon. “We could really use her help.”

Sara looked confused. 

“So, you’re okay with it?” Simon asked.

Wilhelm shrugged. “I am if you are.”

Simon let out a deep breath and finally nodded.

“Okay.” He turned to his sister. “Ayub and Rosh are coming over, but we’re not just hanging out. We were actually going to talk about… what to do about the… the massive situation that we still need to take care of.”

“You mean… the drugs?” she asked, dropping her voice. 

“Yeah.”

“You… you want me to be… a part of it?”

Simon still didn’t seem sure. 

Wilhelm turned to Sara. “That depends. Can we trust you? That you won’t tell anyone about anything we discuss today or ever? Especially to August?”

She nodded, feeling a jolt of anticipation in her gut. “Yeah. I won’t tell anyone. I… I want to help. What do I have to do?”

Wilhelm seemed relieved. 

“You’re the one who spent the most time with August recently. You’ll be essential.”

Rosh and Ayub arrived a few minutes later. Sara was sat quietly in the corner of Simon’s room, on a stool by the fish tank, and the two friends greeted her awkwardly as they came in, settling into their usual video game-playing spots.

Except that they weren’t playing video games, not at first. Simon closed the door and he and Wilhelm launched right into telling them that they had a plan for getting the drugs back from August so that he couldn’t threaten Simon anymore.

Ayub nodded encouragingly. Rosh crossed her arms and gave them an inquisitive look, eyebrows raised.

“And what does this plan involve?” she asked. 

Wilhelm shrugged. “That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”

“Seriously?”

“No, it’s not. Tell them,” Simon said.

“I’m embarrassed,” Wilhelm groaned.

“Well you’re gonna have to tell them anyway or I will.”

Wilhelm groaned again and his cheeks turned pink. 

“Well, the first part is figuring out the best moment when it’s safe to sneak into his room and find the bottle of pills without being seen by anyone.” Wilhelm gestured toward Sara in that moment, and she perked up. “Sara said he was using them, so he kept them in his room. That’s where they probably still are. That’s where I’m gonna be looking.”

Ayub kept nodding. “That sounds a bit like a heist,” he said with an amused grin. 

“Yeah, that’s why I was embarrassed,” Wilhelm said sheepishly, scratching his neck. 

“And why do you need us?” Rosh asked.

“Well, that’s what I’m going to tell you, but first, we need to meet with the rest of the team.”

“Oh, there’s more people?” Rosh asked, eyes wide. 

“It’s definitely a heist.” Ayub wiggled his eyebrows. “Are there escape cars involved? Are we gonna be fast and furious?”

Wilhelm blushed harder. “Shut up. I know it’s stupid.”

Rosh leaning back in her chair with a curious smile. “No, actually I can’t wait to hear the rest of it.” 

Wilhelm ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Okay, hang on. I’m calling them,” he turned on his laptop and set it on Simon’s desk.

“Conference call and all,” Ayub said excitedly. 

“And these people, they’re okay with being involved?” Rosh asked. Wilhelm shrugged.

“I mean, they can still back out. You can back out too. We can’t,” he said, gesturing to Simon and himself. 

“Yeah, I wanted to let you know about it, because you already know everything, in case you could help, but…” Simon shook his head, “you don’t have to get involved at all, if you don’t want-”

“Nah, bro, of course we’ll help, right?” Ayub said, and Rosh nodded along. They both suddenly glanced over at Sara.

“So… you’re part of this too?” Rosh asked.

Sara nodded sheepishly. “Yeah.”

Rosh glanced at Simon. “And… you’re… cool with it?”

Simon seemed to hesitate before nodding. “Yeah, I think we could really use Sara’s help.”

“Okay. So who are we calling?”

“Friends at Hillerska,” Wilhelm said, opening the app to make a video call. 

Felice’s name popped up on the screen. 

Sara felt a chill in the back of her neck. She should have known he meant Felice. 

She had not spoken with Felice since she left Manor house. Sara made sure to steer clear of her as much as she could. She was certain that Felice did the same too. 

“Aw, I thought we were teaming up with your new besties, Walter and uh, the other one,” Ayub was saying.

“No, Walter is your new bestie,” Simon joked.

“We have indeed developed an interesting and unexpected association. Who knew rich boys could be good at monster-hunting?”

Sara stood up suddenly. “Maybe I should go,” she announced. 

They all stared at her, confused, as she shuffled around Rosh. 

“I don’t think… Felice is probably not going to be happy to see me, let alone talk to me, or with me nearb-”

But before she could move further, the call connected and Felice’s smiling face popped up. Sara sat down on the bed, beside Ayub, hidden from the screen’s view behind Rosh and Wilhelm. 

“Hey, Felice,” Wilhelm said, waving at the webcam. Felice waved back. 

“Hey!” she said, the audio a bit tinny. “Maddie’s right here. Maddie! Come on!”

A voice off the screen said “hold on!” 

“She’s making tea, because we’re ‘getting all the tea’,” Felice said, rolling her eyes and making quotation marks with her fingers. 

“Hi, Felice, thanks for joining us,” Simon said.

“Hi. No problem. Maddy, hurry the fuck up!”

“Okay, well, in the meantime,” Wilhelm said, moving slightly to his left so that everyone was visible on camera, just as Maddie appeared over Felice’s shoulder with two steaming mugs, “hi Maddie, thanks for joining us. We have some friends that we’d like you to meet.”

“Yeah, these are my best friends, Ayub and Rosh,” Simon said, pointing at each in turn, “we’ve been friends since we were six, and we’ve been there for each other through everything. They know everything too, and we were just telling them about the plan. Rosh, Ayub, these are our friends at Hillerska, Felice and Madison, or Maddie.”

“Hi,” all three girls said in unison.

“Wait a second. You’re Felice,” Ayub repeated. “You’re the Felice. The one that Wille made out with and Simon got jealous-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Simon muttered, whilst Wilhelm covering his face in embarrassment. 

“You’re… shit, Wille, you’re definitely gay.”

“Ayub! What the fuck?” Simon exclaimed, slapping his friend’s shoulder.

“Ow! Sorry, but, I mean, he has to be! It’s the only explanation why he would not be absolutely head over heels over this stunning woman,” Ayub said, shaking his head.

“Oh, wow, um, thanks,” Felice said, laughing.

“Well, well,” Maddie said, an eyebrow cocked, “I like this one already, he’s very perceptive and charming and bold.”

“Ah, and you must be the American beauty,” Ayub said, almost wedging himself between Wilhelm and Simon to get a closer look at the screen. 

Maddie nodded. “You are correct.”

“Further proof of Wille’s utter disinterest in women. Seriously, bro, if you weren’t with Simon, I would be baffled by the fact that you’re just friends with either of these beautiful girls.”

Maddie and Felice were giggling, whilst Simon rubbed his own forehead in mortification. “Ayub, stop flirting with our friends and stop harassing my boyfriend.”

“In Ayub’s defense, I’m baffled too.”

“Stop flirting too, Rosh!”

“Okay, soooo,” Wilhelm said, trying to reign everyone back in, “now you’ve all met, and we’re all here now… um… Sara’s here too. So now, I thought we could all-”

“Oh,” Felice interjected, her face falling. Wilhelm licked his lips.

“Um… yeah…”

“You didn’t mention she would be here.”

“No, but… she’s… well, she’s…”

Sara shook her head, hands gripping the top of her knees. “I can leave,” she said feebly. Wilhelm held up a hand toward her.

“Actually, we- Sara, please don’t- we… we could really use her help,” he said to Felice. 

“With what?” Felice retorted.

“With… with the fact that she might know August better than the rest of us. Like, really know him.”

Maddie’s eyes shifted between Felice and the screen, her face half hidden by the cup of tea she was drinking from. Felice seemed to be breathing harder. 

“And you trust her? To tell you the truth? To not go over to him and blab about everything? The way she did when Simon said he was going to the police? The way she blabbed to him that I was the one who told you that it had been August who posted the video?”

Wilhelm didn’t say anything, instead looked at Simon. Simon’s eyes were fixed on the wall behind the computer, staring for a long time before he finally spoke.

“I think we have no choice but to move past that…”

“Are you sure about that?” Felice asked. 

Simon didn’t answer right away. 

Without a word, Sara stood up again and left. She felt her heart hammering in her chest. She felt sick. 

She didn’t want to be where she wasn’t welcome, something that seemed to be happening a lot to her lately. She was not welcome anywhere. 

She heard someone coming after her, and before she could close the door to her room, Simon was pushing through.

“No, no, no, you don’t get to sneak away now. How am I supposed to trust you now?” he hissed, closing the door behind him. She spun on her feet and faced him, face so hot now that she was sure she was many shades of red.

“How am I supposed to trust you? I’m not the only who broke the other’s trust, okay? And yet I’m the one who gets all the shit because of what I did, but what about you? What about what you did?”

Simon didn’t look angry or defensive, but rather tired, arms hanging at his sides.

“I know. that’s why I said we need to move past that.”

Sara did feel angry and defensive. She crossed her arms, but she couldn’t look at him. 

“Do they know? Did you tell them? About the drugs? About how it was you? You brought them to August, you stole them from dad-”

“Yes, we told them,” Simon said. 

We. Everything was we now. Everything was Simon and Wille, Wille and Simon. 

“And they’re okay with it? They’re okay with being involved in this?”

Simon shrugged. “They said they are.”

Sara shook her head. “Why do you trust them? Why do you trust that they won’t go to the headmistress and tell them what you did?”

Simon took a deep breath. 

“Because- because they’re our friends, Felice is Wille’s friend, and she has been really great the whole time, and because they have proven trustworthy enough so far, and because they wouldn’t, they have no proof, and nothing to gain if they tried to fuck me over.” He shrugged again, tired, defeated. “Because… I don’t have a lot of people on my corner… Because you were supposed to be in mine, but I…”

She spun away from him and growled. “I don’t need you throwing that in my face all the time! I’m not the only one who fucked up-”

“Sara, keep your voice down!” he hissed.

“You fucked up too.”

“Yeah, and you keep throwing my fuckup in my face too. So I guess we’re even.” He still didn’t look angry or defensive, despite his words. “We already fucking had this discussion. I don’t want to have it anymore.”

She, on the other hand, was fuming. She did want to have it, because she was still angry, at herself mostly, but also at him. 

“Why did you really steal the drugs from dad? Huh? To be cool? To be accepted? Why did you do something so stupid?”

There. That was where she was still hung up. Because this whole problem started there. It started with Simon. It started with their father. All their problems always led back to their fucked up family. 

Simon was trembling. He looked down at his feet, before he finally looked up at her. 

“Because it was a temporary solution to an unending problem. Because… there’s always that hope that, if you take it from him, he can’t use it anymore. If he doesn’t have the thing that makes him the way he is, maybe… he’ll become better… maybe he’ll realize what he’s done to himself, to us, and he’ll try to get better.” He swallowed hard. “And it’s not that I want him to be a part of my life again, or our lives, or anything like that… That’s why I told him to not contact me again. I don’t want to have to deal with that anymore, I shouldn’t have to. And I won’t… But he’s still our dad, and a part of me can’t help but hope that he’ll get better anyway.”

His eyes suddenly glistened, and he frowned, like he was finally angry at her too. 

“But you don’t see things that way. You never have. You don’t give people second chances. Ever. You’ll never forgive dad for everything he did, and I get that. But you’ll probably never forgive me for bringing dad back into our lives, even if it was just for a moment, even if I didn’t mean for it to happen… and you’ll never forgive mum for not divorcing him sooner… And you’ll never forgive Felice for selling her horse, and… And I know it’s difficult, I know that people hurt you, and that it’s hard to forgive. And some people don’t deserve a second chance. But if you shut every single person out, if you don’t give anyone a chance, then you’ll soon end up all alone.”

Sara felt her own eyes well up. Her fingers hurt where they were gripping her elbows. 

The harshness disappeared from Simon’s face. He looked defeated again, hurt.

“What… what I don’t understand is… why you were willing to forgive August for what he did… Is it because he didn’t do it to you? Is it because you were willing to ignore it as long as you got to be the girlfriend of the Crown Prince’s back up? Or did you actually think that you could change him?” He quickly wiped a tear that had just escaped his eye. “You haven’t given any of us a second chance, but you were willing to give it to him.”

Sara did not attempt to wipe her tears, letting them spill over freely, feeling them scalding on their way down her cheeks. Simon stared at her, expecting her to say something. She didn’t. 

He sighed. “You say that people don’t change, but you still thought you could change him. You’re partially right, you know? People and things don’t change just like that. You have to be willing to do it. I know I have changed, I know Wille has, because we’re willing to change, to learn from past mistakes, become better. Because we have a lot to gain from it. We support each other and love each other and work on our problems. And it’s not easy, but it’s worth it.”

“And August… he doesn’t want to change.”

Sara was trembling. Simon wiped his eyes again and let out a breath, like he was trying to steady himself.

“I’m trying to give you a second chance, despite the fact that what you did really fucking hurt me. I’m willing to try to trust you again. Because I need you. Because you’re my sister. Because you’re the one person who knows me and gets me. Because… Because I still love you, despite-” 

He stopped to calm himself down.

“Sometimes you give someone a chance, and they don’t disappoint you,” he said. “I gave Wille a chance and I’m glad I did. I hope I can say the same about you. And I hope you’ll give me a chance too.”

She felt him approach her, and she finally looked up.

When she was younger, she didn’t like to be hugged at all. It took a lot of practice and therapy to not feel uncomfortable, to recognize and set boundaries. But she had never had boundaries with her brother. They had always hugged, he was the one person who could touch her and hug her and it didn’t even register in her mind that she disliked it. 

The day that Simon officially moved into Forest Ridge, they had briefly hugged goodbye, because their mother was watching, because she expected them to. They used to hug all the time, they used to be that close. 

Simon stood close to her.

“Can we trust each other again?”

She trembled harder as she nodded. She wasn’t angry anymore. 

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Sara uncrossed her arms, expecting him to hug her. But he just turned toward the door. 

She wiped her eyes again on her sleeve, before following him out of her room and back to his.

Simon was right. If she stayed angry at everyone who wronged her once and didn’t give any of them a second chance, she’d end up alone.

But she was already alone. She had never felt more alone.

Maybe she was the one who didn’t deserve a second chance. 

When they came back into the room, Ayub was sitting right in front of the computer, blatantly leaning forward and chatting with Maddie and Felice, whilst Wilhelm and Rosh sat on Simon’s bed, Rosh with a hand over her mouth, Wilhelm with his lips pressed tightly together, exchanging occasional glances of pure amusement. 

Simon walked in and sat beside Wilhelm. Sara lingered by the door. Wilhelm glanced at her, before he turned to Simon.

‘Everything okay?’ he mouthed. 

Simon nodded. 

To her surprise, Wilhelm looked at her again and smiled, before clearing his throat. 

“Okay, can we get back to what we’re doing? Sara, thank you for coming back.”

Felice’s smile disappeared. Everyone looked a bit uncomfortable. 

“I know this is awkward and tense, but as Simon said, let’s please try to move past that,,” Wilhelm continued. “I’m grateful that you’re all here, that you’re willing to help us. So I would appreciate if we could also try to trust each other and be honest.”

No one said anything, just silently nodded. Sara leaned against the closed door. 

“Again, I know this is a lot to ask, and if you don’t want to be a part of this, and we would understand if you don’t, this is the moment when you back out. But if you stay, I trust that everything we say here today will stay in this room too.”

Again, no one said anything. 

“I’m here to screw over August,” Maddie announced.

“Me too,” Rosh said.

Wilhelm sighed. “We’re not trying to screw him over, we’re trying to make sure that he can’t screw us over. We don’t want any more bad stuff to happen, and the only way we can think of is making sure we take away the evidence he has against Simon. That’s all.”

“So once we do that, you’re still not reporting him for the video?” Rosh asked.

Wilhelm shook his head. “No. The RC need to keep August as backup. Also, if we report him, there’s still a chance he might report Simon back, even if he doesn’t have any evidence. And we don’t want any of that getting out, right?”

“And you’re okay with that?” she asked. “Letting August get off scot-free anyway.”

Wilhelm sighed heavily. 

“I have no choice. Well, technically I do. But I choose the option that lets me to be with Simon and keeps the RC off my back. Even if I have to deal with August still.”

Maddie awwed. 

“But why August?” Rosh continued. “I mean, why does he get to be the backup?”

“Because there’s no one else.”

“No one? At all?”

Wilhelm shook his head. “No one that would be more likely. No one closer to the line of succession.”

“Why is your family so small?” Maddie asked. “I thought all royal families had, like, a gajillion relatives, and everyone knew how far removed they are from the throne.”

“You’re thinking of the Brits, Maddie. I told you watching The Crown did not count as research,” Felice said. 

“And the RC is willing to put up with him and his… shenanigans?” Rosh asked. Wilhelm shrugged.

“Apparently.”

“Wait, you keep talking about the RC, what is the RC?” Maddie asked. They all chuckled.

“It’s what we call the Royal Court. We needed something else to call them, for multiple reasons,” Simon explained, making a face.

“Oh, I see. I’ve been calling them the Monarchy Mafia.”

“Maddie!” Felice exclaimed, but Wilhelm laughed.

“I love it. Maybe we should use that from now on.”

“But again, why does the RC need to keep August as the backup?” Rosh asked again. “Wouldn’t your kids be your backup?”

“Are you expecting him to have heirs, like, right now? That’s a bit far down the line, isn’t it?” Felice said. 

Rosh shook her head. “No, of course not, but… you can eventually. There’s more than one way that you could, right? And then you don’t need August anymore. I mean, what if he didn’t exist right now either? Would they need to pluck someone from somewhere? Like, I don’t know, a distant cousin in Norway or something?”

“Yeah, aren’t all the Nordic monarchies related?” Ayub asked.

“My point is, you said your mum told you that if you didn’t commit to your role, then August would take over, right? So if you are committed to your role now, and you will eventually have heirs, what’s so wrong about getting rid of plan B?”

Wilhelm opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to be thinking of too many things at once. 

“Well… for starters, it’s the possibility of a scandal that is the biggest reason. The RC already had a big enough mess with the video leak, so if it were to get out that my own cousin filmed it and posted it… And it’s child pornography, which makes it even… messier.” 

The others nodded awkwardly. Hearing him say that made Sara sick again. Maybe Simon was right; maybe it hadn’t seemed like such a big deal to her because it didn’t happen to her.

Wilhelm hesitated again before continuing. “There are… so many things that could happen along the way too… like… Parliament and… the RC and my mother… they could decide that… that I need to do things a certain way, no matter what… or… just anything could change suddenly…”

“Like Simon dumping your ass?” Ayub suggested, earning himself a punch to the shoulder from Simon. Wilhelm chuckled mirthlessly.

“Yeah, or… well… like… like when I became the crown prince.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. 

“Okay, but,” Rosh continued, clearing her throat awkwardly, “so you don’t do anything about it, we don’t do anything about it. But what if someone else does? Didn’t Felice figure it out on her own and told you? What if someone else found out he did it? And they reported him? ”

“I’ve already looked into that,” Wilhelm said. “Chances are the RC will still protect him, try to keep it under wraps, to avoid a scandal.”

“And… your mum is part of the RC, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So… she’s okay with that?”

Wilhelm didn’t reply.

“It’s your mum.”

“Rosh,” Simon said in a warning voice.

“I mean, it’s the Queen, I get it. And I get that the RC have to think ahead and worry about their image and stuff and avoiding scandal. But… it’s your mum. She just… not going to do anything about what August did to you?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “It’s… more complicated than that, because of everything I just mentioned.” He looked down. “But… basically… yeah.”

“For fuck’s sake…” Rosh muttered, and Simon glared at her. 

Another awkward silence followed. Wilhelm sighed. 

“Look, I’m stuck with him. Nothing I can do about that. Not for now, at least. The only thing I can do is make sure he can’t threaten us anymore. And then we will have the upper hand. We all know what he did, we have some evidence, and the power to fuck him over if we wanted to. And we can hold that over his head for the rest of his life, and maybe he’ll leave us alone… until at least I have kids and I can get rid of him as my backup.”

Everyone nodded. 

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” Felice said. 

“Me too,” Maddie agreed. “So how do we do it? What does Operation Technically Not Fuck Over August consist of?”

“For a start, could we please not say his name anymore?” Simon grumbled.

“How about we give him a code name?” Ayub said.

“Prince Humperdinck,” Maddie quickly suggested.

Wilhelm and Simon burst out laughing. “That works,” Wilhelm said.

“What’s that?” Ayub asked, grinning curiously. 

“You haven’t watched The Princess Bride either?” Maddie exclaimed, indignant. “Prince Humperdinck is the villain in that one. We watched it during a princess movie marathon last night.”

Rosh raised her eyebrows. “A princess movie marathon?” 

“Yeah, and we’ve been trying to decide whether Wille is more of a Buttercup, or an Elsa from Frozen, or Anya from Roman Holiday, or a Mia Thermopolis-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake-” Wilhelm groaned. 

Sara had no time to think about the fact that Maddie was Felice’s roommate again or that they were having movie marathons with her brother and his boyfriend. Something unpleasant turned in the pit of her stomach.

“Elsa, for sure,” Rosh quipped, earning herself a glare from Wilhelm.

“No, come on, he’s totally Buttercup,” Maddie retorted. 

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Oh, what is up with all of-”

“We’re getting off topic,” Felice said with a roll of her eyes.

“Sorry,” Maddie and Rosh said in unison. 

Sara returned to her seat by the fish tank, as they talked about the actual plan. Whatever they did, they would need to do it within the next two weeks: Easter break was coming up, and they would be away from Forest Ridge, and when they got back, the third years’ celebration of fifty days until graduation would begin. They needed to take care of this now.

Wilhelm wanted to keep an eye on all the third years, but especially August, to work out the best moment to carry it out. Wilhelm noted that the rowing team was training longer and more often for an upcoming competition. He and Simon also noticed that August was having regular appointments with the school counsellor, too.

But August had also been behaving somewhat erratically. 

Rosh and Ayub asked most of the questions, and Wilhelm provided most of the answers: no, the fancy school did not have a fancy surveillance system, at least not in the boarding houses; no, nobody ever locked their doors, doors could only be locked from the inside, so the staff could access the rooms for housekeeping during class hours. There was also an honor system, people respected each other’s privacies and didn’t just go into other people’s rooms uninvited.

“Except for Henry that fateful night, right?” Maddie said, gesturing toward Felice and Wilhelm, who both glared daggers at her.

However, Felice worried that one week was not enough to figure all of this out. Ayub suggested that either Wilhelm or Simon could fake being sick and stay in the dorm and sneak in during class, but there was still the possibility of getting caught by the staff.

Their best bet was still during the afternoon, when most students had extracurricular activities. 

Sara sat by nervously, listening in silence. A part of her really didn’t want this to happen at all, because if any of them got caught it could be really bad, no matter who it was. Even Wilhelm would face consequences with August. 

It was too risky. It seemed like it should be simple enough, but it wasn’t. 

What if August suspected something, and took precautions? What if, before they could do anything at all, he went to the headmistress and reported Simon? What if he went to the police?

She should have taken them, right there and then. She should have made him throw them away.

“Okay, so let’s talk about Aug- I mean, Humperdick,” Rosh suddenly asked.

“Humperdinck,” Maddie corrected her.

“Nah, mine sounds better. What are Lord Humperdick’s weaknesses?”

“He’s an addict, apparently,” Simon started. “He was going to trick Sara into giving him her ADHD meds, before I… well… Also he’s broke and he doesn’t want anyone to know.” 

“He’s part of The Society, it’s a secret, exclusive group formed by the first born males of noble families of Hillerska, and they’re sworn to protect the monarchy,” Wilhelm explained. “It’s been going on for as long as Hillerska exists, I guess.” 

“Yeeeesh, what a bunch of elitist turds,” Rosh said. Wilhelm gave her a look.

“I was made a member of the Society.”

Rosh raised an eyebrow at him. “I stand by my statement.”

“But you’re not… a first born,” Ayub said awkwardly.

Wilhelm nodded. “Yeah, they made an exception for me, since I became the crown prince.”

“And why is the Society a weak point for him?”

Wilhelm explained about how the night he was made a member, they used the drugs that August had, the drugs that Simon gave him, to party and get high, that it was the same night August recorded the video, and the night that Alexander got caught with the drugs. And how August proposed to pin the drugs on Simon, so that Alexander wouldn’t be suspended, and in turn Wilhelm chose to protect Simon and get the upper hand with August by revealing to the boys in the Society that August had financial problems.

“They know that he’s broke enough not to be able to pay for Forest Ridge. He would be, though, if he sold part of the estate he inherited from his father, but selling enough property means he can’t be a member of the Society anymore. But if he’s not a boarder, he can’t be a member either. So he’s stuck.”

Rosh looked bewildered. “But he’s still there, right?”

“Because… I asked my mother to pay for him. I didn’t tell him, though.”

Ayub scoffed. “You helped him? And he still…”

Wilhelm nodded. “I didn’t know he had a video to fuck me over with.”

They all fell silent. 

“He’s the worst fucking person alive,” Maddie said. 

Rosh cleared her throat. “Okay, but why is this important?”

Wilhelm sighed. “Because the Society guys know about the drugs. They know that Simon is the one who brought them, and they know I protected him.”

“What does that mean? Could they tell someone?”

“I’m not sure. They probably wouldn’t want to get involved, because it would mean revealing that they knew about the drugs, and used them, and lied to the headmistress and pinned it on Alexander… but… I don’t know if they might be loyal to August anyway.”

“Even if he broke the ‘secrecy’ code against one of the ‘brothers’?” Ayub said, doing quotes with his fingers. 

“Not just any brother, but the prince they’ve sworn to protect as a group,” Rosh pointed out.

Wilhelm looked sour. “I don’t know. Maybe… I’m not the prince they want. Maybe they still prefer him.”

Sara felt sick again. It seemed like such a convoluted mess. 

For so long, she had been so fascinated with the gilded charm of the high classes, but she was slowly coming to the realization that the glimmer and shine hid a multitude of faults and sins.  

“Okay,” Rosh exhaled. “What else?”

“He used to be both the captain of the rowing team and the prefect of Forest Ridge, and now he isn’t,” Wilhelm added. 

“Thanks to you,” Simon pointed out.

“Is that like a big deal?”

“It was to him.”

“He’s in love with Sara,” Felice piped up suddenly.

They all looked at her, then turned to Sara. 

Sara panicked, shaking her head. “No. He’s not,” she said emphatically.

“Yes, he is,” Felice retorted. “Otherwise, why would he have bought back Rousseau?”

“He what?” Wilhelm asked. 

Sara felt a chill in the back of her head.

“Or didn’t you know, Sara? Tell the truth,” Felice pressed.

Sara felt her heart beating faster as everyone stared at her. She locked eyes with Simon, whose expression was undecipherable. 

She swallowed hard and looked down at the floor.

“Yeah, I know,” she said in the smallest voice. 

“You knew?” she heard Simon ask, but she didn’t dare look at him.

“He bought Felice’s horse? For you?” Wilhelm asked. 

Sara tried to keep her lip from trembling.

“He told me. Just before I left that day… on the jubilee.”

“And… when were you going to tell us?” Simon asked. This time she met his eyes. 

“I didn’t… we weren’t talking… And I honestly forgot… I… I didn’t want to think about it.” She shook her head vigorously. “I told him I didn’t want it. It was a stupid thing for him to do. He’s not in love with me, maybe he thinks he is, but he’s… it wasn’t…”

“But you knew this whole time?” Simon asked again. 

Her face felt hot again. She didn’t want to start crying again. 

“I didn’t… it didn’t matter… I told him didn’t want Rousseau, not like that. And I just… had other things in my mind. I thought maybe by now he would have sold it back to the people, or found a new owner.”

“Like it’s so easy, sure.” Felice stated. “So you knew this whole time, that Rousseau is in the stables?”

Sara looked up, confused. “Which stables?”

“At Hillerska.”

“He’s… he’s there?”

“That’s how I found out, from… well, from Marcus,” Felice said quickly, like she didn’t really want to say his name. “Apparently August is paying him to take care of Rousseau.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You sure?” Felice asked defiantly. 

“Yes, I’m sure. He didn’t tell me that. Or… maybe he’s been trying to tell me, but I didn’t want to hear anything more from him. He’s been trying to talk to me, but I… I don’t want to talk to him.”

She felt uncomfortable, with everyone still staring at her, with the way Simon’s face was just blank. 

“What would you have done if you knew?” Felice asked, as a challenge.

Rosh held up a hand. “Hold on, you just said he’s broke. How did he afford to buy a horse? And to pay that other twat to take care of it?”

“He probably sold something,” Wilhelm said. 

“But you just said…” Rosh trailed off, then looked at Sara. “Oh shit.”

“See?” Felice sighed. 

Sara was still shaking her head, her throat feeling tight. “He’s not… I don’t care…” her voice trembled. “I wouldn’t… I still don’t want Rousseau. Not like this. He doesn’t get it.” She felt her face was burning up. “It’s like… he’s trying to buy forgiveness.”

Everyone was staring at her. She wanted to run off. 

“I really thought he’d change… I really thought I was helping him… become better… to make up for what he had done. I’m-”

“You knew what he was like, though,” Felice interrupted. “You knew what he had done, not just to Simon and Wille, but to me. Even before the video, you knew that he is a manipulative asshole, and you still…” she trailed off and let out a deep breath. “Never mind.”

Sara couldn’t help the tears that sprung into her eyes. She was crying again. 

“I’m…” she started. “I’m really sorry.”

No one said anything. She sat there, unable to move. She wiped her face with her sleeve. 

“I’m so fucking stupid…” she muttered.

If she had the strength, she would have dashed off again. But her legs felt like jelly, and she felt a little sick still, and she couldn’t stop crying now. Her breath hitched.

“You’re not. You’re not stupid,” Simon said in a low, thick voice. 

“Yes, I am…” she sniffled. “I fucked you over… for someone who pretended to like me, but he just wanted a stupid, naïve someone to- validate his shitty decisions…”

Simon shook his head. “You’re not stupid,” he repeated. 

Sara shook her head, wishing everyone would stop looking at her with pity, wishing her brother would stop defending her. 

She didn’t want him to forgive her. She was sure he hadn’t, anyway, but he was trying, and she didn’t deserve that either.

They kept talking while she went to the bathroom. She blew her nose into a tissue and splashed water on her face and dried herself. She stared at herself in the mirror, at her puffy red eyes, her red nose, her swollen lips, and did not like her reflection at all.

If there was something that Sara knew was that she liked horses. But not like this. Not with everything it implicated.

If there was something else that she knew, was that she had wanted really badly to be like the girls at Hillerska, but she never would be.

The most important thing she knew now, however, was that she needed to fix her own mistakes, clean up her own messes, without her brother’s help, without anyone’s help. She needed to find her own way.

No more feeling sorry for herself. 

They had waited for her to come back before deciding what everyone’s role would be. After they had done reconnaissance and figured the ideal moment to do it, they would meet up by the picnic tables. Rosh and Ayub would be both an alibi, must most importantly a diversion for anyone coming into Forest Ridge. Maddie could stand guard inside Forest Ridge. Felice would be the perfect diversion if August appeared. 

And if Sara was willing, she would join Simon and Wilhelm on their search.

Once they had gone in and found the drugs, the three of them would sneak out, and they’d dispose of the evidence. By the time August realised his pills were gone, it would be too late.

And they could all finally put this all behind them.  

“I’ll do it,” Sara confirmed. 

“You can always back out,” Wilhelm told her. “Any of you can.”

“I won’t,” Sara said firmly. 

They said goodbye to Felice and Maddie, and went to the living room to watch a movie. Linda brought snacks and joined them. They talked over the movie and joked at each other. Rosh made the mistake of asking the name of the movie that they had watched last night that Maddie seemed to like so much, and Simon and Ayub mercilessly teased her about being interested in what Maddie liked. A blushing Rosh pointed out that Ayub had been the one making heart eyes at both girls, but especially at Felice. 

Later, when the pizza arrived, they sat around the dinner table and continued chatting and laughing, like nothing was going on. 

Sara found it hard to join in, eating in silence. 

She watched Wilhelm for a moment, watched him look a bit more polished than the others as he took a bite of his slice of pizza and laughed at something Ayub said. Then she promptly looked away. 

After dinner, the three boys and Rosh disappeared into Simon’s room to play video games for a while, until it was time for them to leave. 

Sara disappeared into her own room, and lay down on her bed, her mind swirling with everything that happened earlier. 

She wanted to help. But a part of her really didn’t want to get involved at all.

She didn’t want to have anything to do with August ever again. Not talk to him, not see him around anymore. She was counting down the days until his graduation already. 

She didn’t care what happened to him anymore.

But what would happen to Rousseau?

Felice’s accusation still stung. If she had known that Rousseau was being kept in the stables, she would have spoken to August, told him to do something about it. As much as she detested the people who bought him, maybe she had exaggerated, and they weren’t so bad, and maybe, just maybe, Rousseau would be better off with them. 

Did it really mean that August loved her? Did he love her enough to sacrifice a part of his estate to buy her something so meaningful?

Did he really think that it made up for everything?

She heard a knock on the door. She sat up just as Simon poked his head in.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she responded.

He paused, checking behind him, probably to make sure that Linda wasn’t nearby. 

“I just… wanted to thank you for helping. I know it was… heavy and… tense and rough, but… I appreciate you doing it.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“You really don’t have to be involved, okay?” he reassured her. It was almost like he could read her thoughts, sense her hesitance. 

But she shook her head.

“No, I… agree with a lot of what you said, and… I need to make up for things.”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, though.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I do. Maybe I always will.” He didn’t sound too happy about that. Sara bit her lip. 

“Maybe it’s my turn,” she said. 

He didn’t respond to that. He leaned against the doorframe, but kept his hand on the doorknob. 

“You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you about… that I started going to see the counsellor at school, Boris.”

“Yeah, I got that.” 

“Wille did, and then I thought I might try it too. That’s part of what we’ve been doing. To work on things.” He breathed deeply. “It’s actually really helpful. And… I was going to suggest that maybe you could try it too.”

Sara looked down at her hands on her lap. 

“You think I need therapy?”

“We all do. We’re all fucked up,” Simon said with a little shrug. “It’s not therapy, exactly, but it’s counselling. It’s something. You used to go before, at Marieberg.”

“And it didn’t help.”

“Because that counselor wasn’t very good at her job. Just because it didn’t work with one person, doesn’t mean that it’s not worth trying again, with someone else. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.”

Sara scratched at her cuticles and didn’t look up at him. If only it were that easy. If only she found it so simple.

“I just… I know it’s been hard for you, a lot of things. Dad, the divorce, Marieberg, Hillerska… and now everything that has happened. Everything that we did. We both made a lot of bad decisions,” Simon continued. “So… it’s not a bad idea to talk about it with someone. To work through it.”

She sighed. “It’s not going to undo anything.”

“It’s not about undoing anything. It’s about trying not to fuck up anymore. And trying to get over the past fuckups.”

She looked up. 

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” 

He fidgeted. “Um, and… Felice said she was going to find a way to create, like, a secret group chat. And I told her to please include you. I mean, we can still talk in person, the rest of the time, we always do, but now we need to be careful.”

“Okay.”

“But, um, just to avoid suspicions, I was thinking that maybe… we still don’t talk at school,” he said.

Her heart sank. This time we meant she and him. 

“So if you need to talk at school, maybe just… over text. Okay?”

She sighed. “Sure.” It sounded like an invitation to talk. But it still stung. 

He nodded lightly, then he turned without another word and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

She stared at it for a long time before she lay back down and rolled over onto her side.  

“Your breath smells like onions,” Simon’s voice said.

Sara came out of the bathroom, after washing her face and brushing her teeth, and stopped. The door to Simon’s room was ajar, and she could hear him and Wilhelm talking.

Ayub and Rosh had left a while ago, and Linda had already gone to bed. Sara thought Simon and Wilhelm might have already gone to sleep too. She thought she was the last one up. 

“There were onions in the pizza,” Wilhelm responded matter-of-factly. 

“Mmmm I know,” Simon groaned. It sounded like they were kissing. 

“Why do you make such a big deal about my breath? Your breath smells like pizza too, and you don’t hear me being a jerk.”

Simon chuckled. “Sorry but I haaaaate it.”

There was a noise like someone breathing out loudly through their mouth.

“Noooo! Uuuuugh! Why do you always do that?”

“Kiss me in my stinky onion pizza mouth!”

“Leave me alone!”

“That’s not fair, I’d kiss you even if your breath smelled like garlic and, and blue cheese and surströmming-”

“Oh please…”

Sara didn’t move, one foot still in the bathroom, listening, even if she knew she shouldn’t.

She could see the light from the fish tank filtering through the crack, shifting as they moved around the room, hear their steps, the sound of rustling. 

“I’m sorry about Rosh today,” Simon was saying.

“Nah, don’t worry. I get that people don’t get it. I know it’s weird. I’m just glad she wants to help.”

“See? I told you she’d warm up to you.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s doing it for you. She and Ayub. They really love you.”

Simon chuckled. 

There was a loud sigh. 

“I really hope this works,” Wilhelm said.

“I do too.”

“It’s a really stupid plan, isn’t it?” Wilhelm groaned, his voice muffled by something. “It is… I’m… ugh, fuck, it’s so dumb.”

“No, it’s not,” Simon said quickly. “It’s not, really. I thought it would be more complicated, but… it’s pretty simple.” 

“I guess…”

“And we’ve got a good team to make it work.”

There was a pause. 

“I guess… I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that… nothing happens after that…” Simon said. “We just… move on.”

“Yeah… I know… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s all I want.”

“Me too.”

There was a longer silence. Sara almost turned to leave.

“You okay?” Wilhelm asked. 

“Yeah…” Simon answered in a small voice. “Yeah,” he repeated, more certain.

Another long pause. 

“Wille.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you trust Sara?”

“I trust her if you do.”

Another pause. 

“Yeah, I guess I do. I want to.”

“Okay.”

Sara felt embarrassed, to hear them talking about her. 

If they were as honest with each other as they claimed to be, told each other everything, then maybe they were both being sincere. 

Maybe they really wanted to give her a second chance.

Maybe she didn’t deserve it right now. But she could try. 

“Thank you for doing this,” Simon said. “It feels… risky, and I’m scared, but also… grateful.”

“I made a promise to you. I’m not breaking it,” Wilhelm said. 

Another long silence. 

“I love you so much,” Simon whispered. “Let’s go brush our teeth. I need you to fix your breath before we keep kissing.”

“As you wish,” Wilhelm whispered back. Simon laughed. 

Sara made a dash for her room, closing the door quietly just as she heard steps. 

She got into bed and turned off the light and lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about the plan, thinking about Simon and Wilhelm and Felice and Rousseau and… 

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

She didn’t want to think about him anymore. 

Notes:

I really hope that in the show we get Simon and Sara working things out. I know things will probably never be the same between them, but that doesn’t mean that things have to stay terrible. Sara is such an interesting character, and even though she was selfish and deceitful, I feel like it’s the result of a lot of trauma, and I hope she works through it and becomes better.
I’ve been wanting to do something for so long with Sara’s way of adopting social cues and norms from Hillerska. In the show it’s so subtle at times, and other times it’s so striking, like when Sara gets mad that Linda and Simon want to have dinner in the couch watching telly. I wanted to dig into that much more. And also the way that Sara seems to expect everything to be black and white, especially when she’s such a shades of grey character herself. It’s difficult to write a character in the neurodivergent spectrum (even when I’m in there too, having ADHD myself), but it’s an interesting challenge.
But also I wanted to dig more into Simon’s protectiveness of Sara, and also his guilt from his own mistakes coming back to haunt him.
I know I write a lot about Linda cooking typical Venezuelan dishes when Wille is in the house, and that’s because food is such a love language in Latin America. In my head she’s really fond of Wille and wants to feed him all the Venezuelan food she can, and talks to him about it whilst he practices his Spanish.
Also not me manifesting Raddie/Maddosh, which I was pleased to find is an actual thing and not just a me thing. I have been praying for them to meet, and it seems I’re finally going to get my wish.
But also I absolutely need Ayub and Felice to meet, and for Ayub to boldly flirt with her, but also for Felice to appreciate the attention she deserves.
I hope you all picked up on the non-blatant Princess Bride references, and also thank you to everyone who voted on the poll. Yes, I agree, Wille is the princess bride herself. Does that mean Simon is Westley?
As always, I’m a huge advocate for mental health care, and of course, if Simon saw a benefit from him and Wille seeing Boris, he’d totally suggest it to someone he cares about and wants to see become better.
And I leave you with a quote from my newest top ten shows I’ve seen recently and an absolute gem about mental health, “This Way Up”, written and starring the wonderful Aisling Bea:
“How many therapists do you need to change a lightbulb? Just one, but the lightbulb has to really want to change.”

Chapter 27: The bravest boy

Summary:

Rumors are laid to rest, secrets are revealed, and problems pile up.
Wille POV

Notes:

Hello, this is the fastest that I’ve put out a new chapter in a while, which makes me really proud, especially because I want to finish this before the trailer comes out (unlikely, but not impossible), and definitely before the new season comes out.
Title is a lyric from Eivør’s ‘Nothing to fear’, the song from the title of this fic.
TW: mentions of anxiety, self-deprecation. The usual for the prince.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The sky beyond the curtains in Simon’s room was no longer the deepest blue, but it was still dark.

Yet Wilhelm couldn’t go back to sleep.

He had a habit of waking up early, even on Sundays. But today, he barely slept at all. 

Simon was the big spoon, even though Wilhelm was restless all night, flipping over and over to every position, kicking the sheets off of his body, even getting up to use the toilet once, and to get a drink of water from the kitchen. 

No amount of meditation or breathing exercises worked to go back to sleep.

So he lay there, awake, trying to focus on the feeling Simon’s breath against his back. It was usually soothing to him, sleeping in such close proximity, being tangled in each other, even if it resulted in both of them getting overheated during the night, but that’s what taking off their clothes was for. He was sure he was so used to it by now, that if they tried sleeping in separate beds, he’d get insomnia.

Too much was going around and around in his head.

The plan. The simple, borderline stupid plan that he came up with to try to outwit August at his own game. 

If it didn’t work… If anyone got caught… He didn’t want to think about it.

He was scared. Nervous. Apprehensive. But they had to do it.

Something about the way his cheek and his neck felt against the pillow was suddenly driving him crazy. 

As soon as he moved again, Simon inhaled deeply and let out a little grumble.

“Hnnngh, it’s not even light out…” he muttered. Wilhelm winced and peered at his face in the dark.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“With your incessant tossing and turning? Naaaah…” Simon ribbed. Eyes still closed, he threw an arm across Wilhelm’s chest. 

“I’m sorry…” Wilhelm murmured, rubbing Simon’s forearm soothingly. “I didn’t know I disturbed you. You’re a pretty heavy sleeper.”

“Not this time… I was having trouble sleeping too. I just don’t move as much, I guess.”

“I’m really sorry…”

“Don’t worry.” Simon nuzzled Wilhelm’s jaw. “What kept you up, then?”

Wilhelm gave a little hum. “Everything. Thinking about everything… I probably won’t sleep until it’s resolved.”

He felt Simon open his eyes, even if he couldn’t see his face.

“I know… me too.” He sighed. “We’re supposed to take turns worrying about things.”

Wilhelm chuckled, stroking Simon’s hair. “Yeah, ideally.”

There was a long silence. Wilhelm thought Simon had fallen asleep again.

“Well, now that we’re up, we might as well do something…” Simon said through a yawn. 

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know, something to try to take our minds off of this.”

“Like… go watch the telly? Wouldn’t we wake Linda and Sara up?”

“Hmm, I was going to suggest something that didn’t require getting out of bed at all…” Simon wiggled his eyebrows, “but you’re right, that might wake them up too. Especially with the way you make noise.”

Wilhelm shook his head vehemently. “Noooo… we can never have sex here again… Not with them in the house…” he hissed. 

“I’m joking, of course,” Simon chuckled. He stretched a little. 

“We could go watch the sunrise,” he said. Wilhelm glanced down at him.

“What?”

“Yeah, I mean, if we can get Kurt to take us, I know a spot.” 

“Do you?” Wilhelm asked, giving him a curious look. “Wait, are you serious?” 

“What?”

“You want to get up early and go outside? You, Simon Eriksson, want to leave the comfort of your bed on a Sunday morning, barely, and go to a place outside in the cold?”

“Okay fine, it was just a suggestion…”

Wilhelm propped himself up. “No, no, wait, I like it… I’m simply… surprised.”

“I mean, that is if they even let us…” 

“Sure, we’ll have to convince them, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. I doubt there’ll be anyone around on Sunday morning.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty quiet around here.”

“Okay then, let’s go!” Wilhelm said in an excited whisper, feeling suddenly very awake. He tugged at Simon’s hand, and Simon was suddenly groaning and sluggishly trying to extricate himself from the warm and comfy bed.

It took a bit of persuading Danielle and Kurt, but they managed. Simon left a note for Linda on the fridge door, in case she woke up before they came back, they put on their coats and snuck out quietly. 

It wasn’t as cold as they thought it would be, and it was really quiet. Simon indicated to Kurt how to get to Lake Svinstad* (“Hehe, nice name,” Wilhelm noted), driving down a long, deserted road. Within five minutes they were walking down a little slope to the lake bank, and then toward a pier, Kurt and Danielle following at a distance. 

They both wore knit hats, even though Wilhelm doubted there would be anyone around at that time, except maybe cyclists and a few people walking their dogs. The area was pretty deserted still. 

The sky turned a lighter shade of grey blue. The chilly air in his face refreshed him. 

“Do you come here often?” he asked Simon, as they walked to the edge of the pier.

Simon sat down cross-legged. “No. Been here a few times, though. And it occurred to me that it might be a good place to see the sunrise.” 

Wilhelm sat beside him, legs dangling off the edge of the pier. They leaned against each other, yawning, as the sky lightened up, and the world slowly, calmly came into view. The only sound that filled the silence was the chirping of birds as they woke up too; bugs skimmed the surface of the water. 

Simon smiled before wrapping an arm around Wilhelm’s waist. He put an arm around Simon’s shoulders and pulled him close. 

“Is this your move? This is how you seduce people?” he asked.

Simon laughed. “Absolutely.”

“Hmmm… smooth.”

He fought to keep his eyes open, the stillness and silence lulling him to sleep. 

A few minutes passed when, right across from where they sat, the sky lit up; the grey clouds were suddenly streaked with red and pink and orange and gold, surrounded by a dome of lilac and lavender and violet clouds. It was like a portion of the sky was on fire. The forest, below the hazy pink line of the horizon, was an ink drawing of black shapes and lines against the canvas of the sky, mirrored on the lake.

It was like watching a painting come to life. He was suddenly holding his breath, trying to stop himself from blinking. 

“I don’t think I had ever really watched a sunrise before…” he said quietly, mesmerized.

Simon turned to him, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, and Wilhelm immediately blushed. His face was tinted pink and gold by the light, a  smile like a ray of sunshine. They were both bathed in the golden pink light. 

They let out a little laugh at the same time, and Simon laid his head on Wilhelm’s shoulder. Wilhelm felt his chest swell. 

He suddenly, unexpectedly remembered his mother’s words, about how being in love for the first time could feel too big, too disproportionally important. 

But why shouldn’t it? What was the point of love if it didn’t feel big and important? If it didn’t make him want to experience new things, learn something new about himself, be protective about something? What was so wrong about feeling that every moment was poignant, to revel in each of them?

Everything felt big, important, monumental. He had never felt so much about anything or anyone. 

That moment together was everything to him. Everything about being with Simon was everything. He felt monumental about him. It was difficult to put into words, to make sense of it. But he didn’t have to.

“Whenever you’re ready to go,” Simon said after a minute, yawning again.

“That’s it?” Wilhelm asked, a little disappointed.

“Well, yeah, the novel sunrise part is pretty much done, and from now it’s just the… shining brightly in your face part from here on,” Simon said. 

“But it’s… so… beautiful,” Wilhelm said, but he wasn’t really looking at the sunrise. Simon blushed. 

“Okay fine, a little longer.”

Wilhelm tried to keep from smiling so wide that his cheeks would hurt and his teeth would freeze. He looked at the sky again, committing the view to his memory, before looking back down at Simon’s face. Simon blinked slowly, before he met Wilhelm’s gaze again. 

They laughed before their lips met. Wilhelm inhaled deeply, feeling warm and happy and carefree. He committed it all to memory. 

“We better leave before someone shows up,” Simon whispered against his lips. Wilhelm grumbled. 

“Okay, one second.”

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his phone and held out his arm to take a selfie. They smiled and squished together, then scooted around to get a selfie with the sunrise in the back. 

“We could have brought the instant camera…” Simon complained. 

Simon stood up first and held a hand down to Wilhelm. Wilhelm pretended to lose his footing and fall against him, embracing him. Simon laughed.

“Did you like it?” he asked, arms still around each other as they walked back toward Kurt and Danielle, and to the car. 

“Absolutely,” Wilhelm replied.

“Yessss, my move worked.”

They slipped back into the car, and Simon leaned against him, closing his eyes like he intended to squeeze some shuteye during the five minutes it would take to get back to his house, and Wilhelm nestled his head on top of Simon’s, curls tickling his chin.

Everything felt monumental. 

Moments like this, every little thing, everything he felt was too big. 

And yet not big enough. 

He felt like he was changed.

When they got back, Linda was making breakfast; despite the note, she scolded all four of them. The bodyguards reassured her that they made sure the area was safe and clear, and that the Royal Court was made aware. Wilhelm winced at that, but tried not to worry.

“Will we be in trouble with the RC?” Simon asked back in the bedroom.

“We might, but… I might not care,” Wilhelm replied. 

Breakfast wouldn’t be ready for a bit longer, so Simon peeled off his clothes and crawled into bed. Wilhelm did the same and got into bed too, spooning Simon this time. “My turn,” he said, squeezing Simon. 

Within minutes, Simon fell asleep again. Wilhelm didn’t. 

Sometime after lunch, they got a notification that Madison had created a group chat called ‘Operation HumperDICK’, and set it up so that their messages would disappear after 24 hours. 

- welcome, everyone. if you don’t already, best to have two-step verification set up on your phones - Maddie texted.

- Thank you for setting this up, Maddie, but please promise that we won’t use this chat all the time for any random thing - Wilhelm texted back.

- no problem, but listen, to keep this exchange as secret as possible, you should address me by my codename, The Ancient Booer. okay, Buttercup?

- Our actual names appear on the chat anyway…

Maddie responded with an animated GIF of the character of Vizzini from The Princess Bride yelling “INCONCEIVABLE!”

- spoiler alert! i haven’t seen the movie yet… - Rosh texted.

- same - Ayub wrote.

Beside him, Simon was chuckling at the texts. 

They did nothing for the rest of the day. No amount of coffee helped Wilhelm feel awake, and yet he was too wired to sleep. Meanwhile, Simon easily fell asleep on the couch whilst watching a movie. 

Being in Simon’s house was usually an escape for him; he felt at home there, cozy and relaxed. But now he was curled up in Simon’s bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone, waiting until it was time to go back to Forest Ridge.

He needed to go back. He needed to keep an eye on August. He needed to start executing the plan, to feel like he was doing something already. The anticipation was eating him up. 

He felt anxious again. 

They arrived at Forest Ridge whilst everyone was still at dinner. Wilhelm felt tempted to go straight up to August’s room and search it, but he decided not to; anyone could come back at any moment and he’d be caught.

So he followed Simon into Wilhelm’s room.  

“Mmmmmmrgh,” Wilhelm groaned as he dropped his bags and took off his coat and toed off his shoes and plopped face down onto his bed. He continued to make the same noise into the pillow.

He sensed Simon walking around, setting his bag on the other bed and taking off his jacket and dropping stuff onto the desk. He then felt the bed shift as Simon sat beside him and took off his shoes, before draping himself over his back, one hand rubbing his arm. 

“You okay?” 

Wilhelm turned his head toward him. “Mmyeah sure.”

“Tired?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “I guess…” he said. “This week was a bit much, especially Friday… let’s not even go there…” he shook his head a bit. “I can’t stop thinking about the plan… I’m glad it’s coming together, but I wish I could get it over with, so I can stop feeling… so tense.”

“Yeah, me too,” Simon muttered. “I’m sorry that you’re losing sleep and everything.”

“It’s fine.” Wilhelm smiled up at him. “I liked watching the sunrise this morning. It was very… romantic.”

Simon stroked his hair. “I liked it too.”

Wilhelm was about to move over so that Simon could get into bed beside him, when Simon started rubbing his back soothingly. 

“Are you going to give me a massage…?”

“Would you like me to?” Simon asked in a soft, seductive voice. Wilhelm let out a breathy laugh, both of excitement and nerves, and a bit embarrassed at how much his skin was suddenly covered in goosebumps.

“Hmmm… wouldn’t mind… do you know how to give massages?”

“I’ve never tried… Never had anyone on whom to practice.”

“You can practice on me…”

“Okay.”

Simon stood up and out of his line of sight, and the bed shifted again, and it took Wilhelm a moment to realize that Simon was straddling him, legs on either side of his hips, before sitting down carefully on his butt. A groan and huff into the pillow escaped him at the sudden weight. 

“I’m sorry, am I hurting you?” Simon asked, hands on Wilhelm’s lower back.

“Mmmno, no, just… took me by surprise,” Wilhelm mumbled. He felt around with his hands and patted Simon’s legs at either side of him. “This feels kind of nice.”

“Does it?” Simon said, and shifted his weight forward a bit, in a way that made Wilhelm squirm a little. “I really have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad you like it.” 

The hands on his lower back started gliding up his back, and Wilhelm stayed very still. 

“Do you have tension around… here?” Hands snuck under the hem of his sweater and lay on his lower back again for a moment, before gliding upward to his shoulder blades, pushing his sweater up a bit in the process, and tickling his skin. “Or… here?” 

Every hair on Wilhelm’s body was now standing. He squirmed some more. 

“Mmmmsure, everywhere…”

Simon laughed, warm hands still on Wilhelm’s back. He shifted his weight a little again, and placed his hands squarely on Wilhelm’s shoulder blades and gently started pushing, kneading the muscles. 

Wilhelm made a sudden loud noise between a strangled cry and grunt, making Simon yelp in surprise and pull his hands back. Wilhelm burst out laughing, and Simon smacked his shoulder.

“You idiot, you scared me…”

“Sorry,” Wilhelm coughed, “couldn’t help it, it was too good a chance…”

“Asshole,” Simon growled, smacking his back again, before dropping his entire weight onto his back, pressing his chest against his back. This time the noise out of Wilhelm was involuntary. Simon gave a little evil laugh before rolling off of him, resting his chin on Wilhelm’s shoulder, one finger caressing his cheek.

“So, are you too tired to…?” he trailed off.

Wilhelm cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “I’m never too tired toooo…” 

Simon laughed. “It’s just that, um… it’s been a whole week since.”

“It has…” Wilhelm muttered. 

They hadn’t had sex since last Sunday, the first night in Simon’s room. The rest of the week had been difficult conversations, a tense phone call, an exhausting visit from Minou, a stressful confrontation with Alexander, and a traumatic near-hazing experience. 

Wilhelm still felt sick thinking about that. At least they encountered none of the first year housemates, but they inevitably would at breakfast. 

Simon’s hand glided up the nape of Wilhelm’s neck, fingers threading through the short hair there. “Like I said this morning, maybe it could help us take our minds off of things… help us feel less tense…” 

Wilhelm felt a jolt of excitement, breath hitching when he felt lips on the back of his neck.

“You know you don’t have to sell me on the idea of having sex with you, right?” he chuckled. 

He turned onto his side and faced Simon, just as he was rolling his eyes. 

“That’s not what-”

Wilhelm pulled him closer by the waist and captured his lips. Simon kissed him back, hands in his hair, and Wilhelm let himself go. 

Of course it wasn’t just about feeling less tense or taking his mind off things. Every time he got to be with Simon, get kissed silly, feel Simon’s lips and tongue on his skin, be undressed by him, get to undress him back, and just tangle in each other’s limbs, writhe against each other, pleasure each other, make each other climax… it was better than any amount of sleep he could ever get. 

But so many things had happened, and so many things continued to happen. There was always something…

He wasn’t only tense, he was anxious and terrified. Of the next thing that could happen, the next wedge between them, the next threat, and the hurt and the anger and the helplessness that had been building up for months, and continued to terrorize them… and all the time that was stolen from them…

But if he thought about that, he didn’t enjoy this; being with Simon, touching and kissing each other, making love, comforting each other. 

And he wanted to enjoy it. Not because it could end at any moment, but because being with Simon now, for however long, made up for all of it. And it made him want to do whatever it took to make it last. 

Being with Simon, he felt less scared.

“So… Easter in Stockholm,” Simon started, shedding his clothes and climbing into bed again. They had cleaned themselves up and were getting ready for bed. Wilhelm was still unpacking his stuff, putting his laptop on the desk and shoving his journal into the desk drawer. 

“Yep,” he responded.

“And… do you really think they might let you spend at least a couple of days with us?” 

“If you ask nicely…” he said with a wink, smiling gleefully as he took off his t-shirt and joggers and crawled under the sheets, planting a quick kiss onto Simon’s nose before fitting himself against his body. “What? You’re gonna miss me?”

“You’ll miss me too,” Simon retorted. “It’s a whole week. We haven’t… shit, we haven’t even been apart for a day yet, let alone a week, it’s gonna feel weird-”

“Mmmmmnoooo, don’t think about that, we’re not talking about that!” Wilhelm whined into his shoulder. 

“How can I not?” Simon said with a pout. 

Wilhelm continued to make grumbling noises, clutching at Simon like a koala. Of course he didn’t want to think about it. Though the alternative was thinking about everything that had to happen during the two weeks before that. Having to spend Easter break apart was probably the least of their problems right now. 

“I’ll ask tomorrow. I’m sure it’s not a problem. But… I don’t want to impose on Linda,” he added sheepishly. 

Simon scoffed. “Impose? You? I think by now she loves you more than me.”

“Oh please…” 

“She’s making you carne mechada and tostones. She only ever makes that for my birthday.”

Wilhelm giggled. 

“Won’t be anything exciting, though,” Simon said. “We don’t go anywhere or do anything in particular, except stuff our faces with food and chocolate eggs on Easter Sunday.”

“Beats going to church,” Wilhelm said. “Meanwhile, Felice and Maddie are going on a ski trip to Fredrika’s holiday home in Åre. You get to eat chocolate and sleep in and not do anything at all. And I am getting ash on my face and meeting with the RC. Thrilling.” 

Simon gave him a sympathetic aww, brushing his hair off of his forehead. 

“What about your original plan?” he asked. Wilhelm looked up at him.

“What plan?”

Simon cocked an eyebrow. “Verbier.”

Wilhelm made a face. “Oh, that…. yikes… Why would you bring that up?”

“I just remembered. Sorry.”

“Ugh. No, let’s never speak of that again. The more I think of it, the more awkward it is. Can’t believe I sort of agreed to it…”

Simon narrowed his eyes at him. “The more you think about it? You mean you keep thinking about it?”

Wilhelm squeezed him tighter. “Not until you brought it up just now.” He sighed, thinking back to the conversation with Nils that night. Maybe he was just trying to be nice, help him move on… or maybe he was just like everyone else, wishing Wilhelm would just pretend like the video had been a one time thing, like it meant nothing, like Simon had been just a hook up. And Wilhelm had almost played into that. 

“Thankfully it didn’t come to that…” he said.

Simon let out a little hum. “But it’s… like… you didn’t even know… you had no certainty that Nils was organizing something, for real. Like, who was he inviting? Who was going to be there? What was the, I don’t know… itinerary?”

Wilhelm felt a pinch of guilt. Because Simon probably didn’t understand that Verbier likely involved some form of escorts. And Wilhelm wasn’t about to explain it to him. He never wanted Simon to know that he had been desperate enough to agree, even hypothetically, to something like that. 

There was a part of him that felt certain he would never have actually gone through with it, too afraid of his mother finding out, too afraid that anything might get out despite Nils’s reassurances. But more importantly, he would have been too heartbroken to be with anyone else.

He didn’t want sex with a stranger. He wanted Simon.  

Lucky for him, it all worked out for the best. So, now he didn’t want to think about Verbier ever again. 

He shook his head. “No idea. Stop thinking about that! I’m not even thinking about all those things.”

“That’s what worries me! You were going to go to this place and you wouldn’t have known anyone except Nils.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“What if it was bullshit? What if he didn’t plan to invite anyone else for real? What if you guys got there and Nils was like ‘oh no, none of the other guys are coming, they all bailed out… Oh wow, what an unprecedented turn of events… Well, I guess it’s just you and me then, what shall we do to have fun’… wink wink…”

Wilhelm’s face was buried in Simon’s chest and he was shaking with laughter. 

“I saved your ass,” Simon added.

“You absolutely did,” Wilhelm said wistfully, remembering that night at the ball, remembering how devastated he had felt, seeing Simon with Marcus, the look on Simon’s face… and how everything changed moments later. 

“Sometimes I think about that night… and I still can’t believe it,” he said softly, eyes drooping. He suddenly felt tired, but also relaxed.

Simon chuckled. “You mean the Valentine ball?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Wilhelm mumbled. “Sometimes I’m sure that I dreamed it.”

“Me too.” 

“And then other times I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into with you,” Wilhelm teased. Simon scoffed theatrically and smacked his shoulder. 

“Well, serves you right for kissing me all those nights ago,” he retorted.   

Wilhelm lifted himself up onto one elbow. “I’m sorry, if I remember correctly, you kissed me first.” 

“So?” 

So? So we wouldn’t be in all this trouble if you hadn’t followed me and kissed me and melted my brain.” 

Simon feigned indignation. “So this is all my fault?”

Wilhelm curled onto his side. “All of it. You triggered a national crisis the day you kissed me.”

Simon peered at him curiously. “Are you saying that, if I hadn’t kissed you first, you wouldn’t have done it either?” 

Wilhelm thought about for a moment, then blushed. “I don’t know… that’s the thing… Between worrying about what it meant for me to like you so much, and not knowing if you felt the same way… maybe not.” 

“So… it was always going to be me?” 

“Yeah, probably. Unless I managed to find some courage.” 

Simon smiled softly, shaking his head. “You have so much courage.” 

“Yeah, but only because of you,” Wilhelm said earnestly. “You make me feel brave.”

“That is so cheesy,” Simon said, before he leaned over and kissed him. 

He didn’t know when they stopped kissing lazily, and when he managed to fall asleep. Yet he once again woke up before dawn, heartbeat quickened like he had been having a nightmare, but he couldn’t remember it. 

Simon slept soundly, spooning him as always, arms wrapped around his torso. Wilhelm resigned himself to not going back to sleep. 

All the good things felt huge, but all the bad things felt massive too. 

In the morning, they each dressed in their respective rooms. Wilhelm was tying his shoes when his phone pinged. 

It was a text from Farima.

- Good morning, Crown Prince. I have news. 

- Your outing yesterday morning was unfortunately not free of casualties. 

- There is an Instagram photo of two people that look remarkably like you and Simon by a lakeside. I take it this wasn’t within the grounds of Hillerska. 

- The person who posted it seems to have been walking or cycling about in Bjärstad. 

A cold chill ran down the back of his neck. 

Farima attached a screenshot of the aforementioned post. He opened it and groaned; it was him and Simon on the pier, the purple sky behind them. The picture was taken from somewhere to their right, presumably from the biking path along the lake bank. It was taken with a pretty decent phone camera, because it was indisputably them, their faces clear, even at a distance; they were looking at each other, not at the sunset, their skins tinted gold by the light.

The caption read: Is that the crown prince and his boyfriend having a romantic outing in Bjärstad? We’ve got sunrises fit for royals. #crownprincewilhelm #simoneriksson #wilhelmandsimon #sunrise #lakedate 

Of course there was someone around at that hour, and of course they recognized them, and of course they had a top-notch camera phone and took a picture of them that quickly become viral, just like every other picture surreptitiously taken of them. 

At least they hadn’t been kissing in that instant.

He let out an exasperated breath. 

- Yes, that’s us - he texted back, and nothing more. What was he supposed to do? Deny it? Say he was sorry? He was done apologizing for stuff like this. It wasn’t his fault that people had a penchant for taking photos of them, for wanting to have the scoop on them. 

Farima replied:

- The post has unfortunately been picked up by other media outlets, making the rounds, much like the posts from your classmates. There has been a spike in the use of the hashtags in the past 24 hours. They haven’t stopped trending in one way or another for the past three weeks, to be precise. 

He started typing ‘and what do you expect me to do about that’, when she sent another message. 

- Please refer to the email sent on Friday, with notes from the meeting you did not attend. We discussed measures that could be taken in this situation, but we also need your collaboration. 

He ran a hand through his hair, teeth gritted. Her text sounded so condescending, like she genuinely expected him to feel bad about it. 

- We care about your privacy, Wilhelm. But we can’t do anything about it if you don’t take the proper measures too. 

- The Royal Court is aware that you can’t control what the people around you do, but you could try to avoid other situations in which your privacy is exposed. 

- If a similar situation were to happen again, the Royal Court would be forced to revoke your permission to spend weekends at Simon Eriksson’s house. 

- Simon would of course still have the option to return home for the weekends, but we would still not be able to provide a security detail to escort him home and back.  

Wilhelm felt himself begin to tremble with rage. He needed to calm before he might text a bunch of expletives to Farima. Before he could, however, there were even more texts from Farima.

- I know you probably think this is unfair, but this is not meant to punish you. It’s meant for your protection. Both yours and Simon’s. 

- The amount of attention you have both garnered is unprecedented, and we are doing our best to handle any situation that arises or may arise.

- We would appreciate your help in this too. 

- I will be in touch when I have more information.

He almost wanted to toss his phone across the room. He didn’t know what was more frustrating: whether it was the tone behind her texts, or the fact that she chose to text instead of calling him, or how big a deal they were making of this, or the fact that he and Simon really couldn’t catch a break. 

- Fine - he texted back. 

He dreaded telling Simon about it. There was always something… 

Before he would forget again, he opened his inbox and skimmed Farima’s email with the meeting notes and rolled his eyes. Basically they established that they would speak to Anette Lilja and let her handle it, and if the problem persisted, they would then get more involved. But he and Simon were supposed to let them know about any instance of catching someone in the act, or getting tagged in posts, or finding out about any posts themselves. 

Wilhelm had to laugh; if the RC really expected him and Simon to be reporting to them about this, they were really scrambling. 

He merely replied to Farima’s email with a ‘thank you’. 

He then he noticed that his mother was copied in the emails. His mother was still in Japan, presumably, or wherever it is she was going after Japan, so she hadn’t been in the meeting either. He almost expected a phone call from her, scolding him about sneaking around Bjärstad, getting photographed. Maybe she still would. But he doubted it. 

With a sigh, he looked back at Farima’s texts. Then he opened the screenshot again, and he couldn’t help smiling.

Whoever this person was, the picture they had taken was lovely. Better than the selfies he had snapped. 

He saved the screenshot to his photos, and cropped the top and bottom parts, where the person’s handle and caption appeared, and made the colors a little more vibrant, closer to what he remembered it looked like in real life. Then he set it as his phone background. 

 Wilhelm thought that Anette would have each housemaster to speak directly to their boarders during the weekend, whilst he and Simon were away. He didn’t think they’d speak about it during breakfast. 

He and Simon had been keeping to themselves, ignoring their first year housemates, when Göran stood up and got everyone’s attention and started talking about respecting classmates’ privacies and social media etiquette, in a way that showed he clearly had no idea what social media even was, whilst gesturing repeatedly toward Simon and Wilhelm. Wilhelm felt himself going both red and pale, as everyone glanced at them amusedly. 

Predictably, the only effect this had was for everyone to talk about it behind their backs.

“So we can’t take selfies near them because they might think that we’re doing it to get them in there?”

“It’s so stupid. Are they going to report everyone to Instagram?”

“Self-absorbed much?”

“I get that he’s a royal, but I bet no one else in his family has ever gotten so much special treatment before.”

“Not just him. Did you hear about the boyfriend refusing to be hazed?”

“I mean, it was him who stopped the others from hazing him, but the boyfriend didn’t want to do it anyway.”

“He’s really gotten into the role, hasn’t he?”

Wilhelm pretended that he couldn’t hear the group of first and second years gossiping about him and Simon. He was getting some more badly needed coffee, and wasn’t in the mood to even care. 

“Figures. I heard someone saying that fame seems to have gotten up to Simon’s head,” Maddie said, after he and Simon joined her and Felice in the history classroom, and Wilhelm told them about Farima’s email.

Simon sneered. “Yes, obviously it’s my fault.”

“Don’t worry. Now that people might stop pulling that shit, they’ll forget about it eventually,” Felice pointed out.

Wilhelm shrugged. “Yeah, but… it’s not them that bother me. It’s the fact that the RC is making a big deal. Enough to threaten me to keep me at school during the weekends.”

“I can’t believe you guys snuck out to see a sunrise, you are soooooo disgustingly cute,” Maddie shook her head.

“We didn’t sneak out. The bodyguards took us,” Simon clarified. 

“Ooooooh,” Maddie cooed. 

Felice’s expression soured, and Wilhelm glanced over his shoulder. Sara had just come in. 

“Anyway,” Felice said, clearing her throat. The teacher walked in shortly after and class started. 

As he had been doing lately, Wilhelm waited in the music room for Simon, who was with Boris, so they could head to lunch, when his phone rang. It was Minou.

“This better not be about the Instagram post, because Farima already scolded me like a child about it,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“Hello to you too, Wilhelm, how nice to hear from you.”

“Sorry, I’m not exactly in the mood. Hi.”

“Oh well, not to add to that, but I have some unfortunate news. It’s about the tailoring of yours and Simon’s clothing.”

“What tailoring? We already went through that.”

“Yes, and the suits and Simon’s uniform and other items are ready, but they need to be tried on to make sure that they were fitted correctly.”

Wilhelm gave a tired sigh. “Okay, fine, I guess we’ll do that. When were you planning on coming by?”

“That’s the bad news. I won’t be the one coming by. Jan-Olof is.”

“What?” Wilhelm exclaimed. “No, no way. Why can’t you come?”

“Because he is on his way to Hillerska with Lundqvist to meet with August for his uniform tailoring, and it is unjustifiable for both of us to head to Hillerska for basically the same thing. So unfortunately he’s going there to take care of both.”

For the second time in one day he resisted the urge of smashing his phone against a way, and tried to calm himself. He knew that Jan-Olof was coming by with the tailor to fit August for his stupid graduation uniform and stupid whatever else the RC was catering to him, but Wilhelm didn’t expect to have to deal with any of it. 

“No fucking way, Minou. You promised. Why couldn’t you come instead of him, and you deal with August?”

“For the same reason you don’t want to see Jan-Olof.” 

Wilhelm rubbed his chest. “No, no, please, Minou, I beg you…” He knew from previous conversations that Minou wasn’t exactly fond of August either, but not enough to go to such lengths to avoid him. 

“I’m joking, that’s not actually the reason. I simply can’t, I have urgent matters to attend here. For starters, the schedule for Easter week. There’s a lot to be done before the Queen and Prince Consort arrive from their trip.”

“And why is it so urgent for Jan-Olof to come by now? Can’t we wait for you?”

“Because August’s uniform needs to be tailored in time for Parents Weekend this Saturday.”

Wilhelm blanched. This weekend was Parents Weekend exclusively for the graduating students, and he had completely forgotten about it. 

The school was going to be packed. Parents would come and walk around the facilities and the dorm rooms. And August and Vincent were going to be unbearable about preparations.  

What if August tidied up his room and decided to hide the drugs elsewhere?

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

“And Jan-Olof insisted that he wants to make sure that Lundqvist’s work is up to his standards.”

Wilhelm sighed. “Of course he does.” He clenched his jaw. “Fine, I guess.”

“Please let Simon know that I’m sorry,” Minou said, sounding sincerely apologetic.

“This better not happen again, Minou. For everyone’s sake.”

“Wilhelm, I regret to tell you, and I’m sure you’re aware, but this is something that you’re just going to have to deal with, even if you don’t like it.” She sounded genuinely sympathetic again. Wilhelm wasn’t sure if she meant Jan-Olof or August.

“Not if I can help it.”

“Well, at least this time you will have to. I suggest you get used to it. Perhaps you will, if you really try.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

He said goodbye and hung up and stared at his phone sourly. 

- Did you guys know that this weekend was Parents Weekend for the graduating students? - he texted in the new group chat, as he walked out of the music room. Simon would be out any moment. 

- shit, that’s true - Felice replied a few seconds later.

- wait what does that mean? - Ayub asked.

- That means that maybe this isn’t a good week to try anything - Wilhelm said. - But also it might not be a good week to watch you know who.

- his name is Prince Humperdick - Maddie said. 

- i’m sure we can figure out something anyway - Felice said.

- uGH u guys have access to swords and stuff can’t u just stab him and get it over with? - Rosh texted. 

Simon came out of Boris’s office, looking down at his phone. He looked up at Wilhelm, shoulders slumped. 

“I know…” Wilhelm said. 

“How about waiting for the week of the competition? He’ll be away, right?” Felice proposed.

“What if he takes it with him?” Wilhelm countered.

“That’s true…”

The four of them were once again sitting together before literature class, in the back of the classroom. Nearby, in the corner bench, Sara sat  staring ahead, chin on her crossed arms.

“What about during Parents Weekend? You guys won’t be here, but we will,” Maddie suggested, gesturing to herself and Felice. “We could sneak into his room and take it. No one will suspect anything of us. And you got your alibi.”

“I don’t care about Aug-Humperdick finding out after, because of course he’ll know once it’s gone. But I won’t risk anyone else getting caught breaking into someone’s room for us,” Wilhelm stated. “Sorry, no. Please don’t.”

“Fine. But it would be the perfect opportunity.”

“I wish I could… put a fucking tracker on him,” Wilhelm muttered.

“No good anyway, we would have to put a tracker on everyone at Forest Ridge,” Simon said. “And staff, and everyone else.”

Felice kept glancing over at Sara. Wilhelm didn’t know if Sara could overhear them, but after Simon told her they should keep pretending like they weren’t talking to each other at school, he guessed Sara wasn’t going to be talking much anyway. But she hadn’t said anything in the group chat either. He sensed Felice preferred it that way, though. 

The classroom filled up quickly. Ms Ramirez promptly walked in, and everyone found their seats. Wilhelm and Simon picked the bench in the middle, with Felice and Maddie behind them. 

Soon enough, Ms Ramirez was talking about analyzing the most important exponents of Modernist poetry, and how to analyze poems and compare styles and themes. 

“Please, not another oral presentation…” Wilhelm begged quietly.

“If you think you can bail on me again, you’re very wrong,” Simon whispered, giving him a pointed look and a knowing grin.

“You’ll be working in pairs. Each pair will receive two poems by two different authors and analyze them to find the differences and similarities in style and themes,” Ms Ramirez announced. “I’ll be pairing you up.” 

Everyone grumbled. 

“Noooooo,” Wilhelm mouthed. 

“Look across the aisle, that is your new partner,” she announced, gesturing to the first line. “And those at the end of each line will be paired together too, so for example, Albin over here, your partner is Katrina over there… Pair up and come get your poems.”

Wilhelm slumped in his chair. Beside him, Simon looked like he was getting a stomachache; across the aisle from him was Henry. Wilhelm glanced to his right at the person sitting across from him. Stella and Fredrika pretended to weep dramatically at being separated. Stella finally looked at him and gave him a tight smile. He waved.

“I’m excited, are you excited,” Simon muttered, looking anything but.

“Do you want to switch with me? I got Stella.”

“Oh.” Simon’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh no…” 

“I wonder who drew the shorter stick, you or me.” 

“Definitely me, you asshole.”

“I know, I’m sorry…” 

“Although… I kind of feel bad for her.… people will be talking,” Simon said.

“I know…”

Ms Ramirez was telling them to find somewhere to work, and the timeline for the presentations. On the board, she wrote down pairs’ names and the poems that were assigned to them. 

Behind them, Felice looked like she was going to punch something; she had to work with Sara. Sara, on the other hand, seemed unfazed.

“Well, if he gives you any shit, let me know,” Wilhelm said. Simon threw him a look. 

“Thanks, but I don’t need your protection.”

“Oh I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about him.” he gestured at Henry, who was doodling on his notebook and appeared overall not to be aware that he was even supposed to be doing something. “If you feel the urge of giving him a broken nose, please resist and come talk to me.”

Simon snickered. “I will… good luck with your, um, partner.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath and stood up. 

“Hi,” he said, just as Stella was gathering her stuff and standing up. She looked awkwardly up at him and he gestured for her to go ahead of him. They went to the front and took the print out that Ms Ramirez handed to them.

“Stella and Wilhelm, you get Södergran and Boye,” the teacher announced, writing it on the board. Wilhelm remembered Karin Boye from the other recent report. Something sort of bittersweet popped up in his head. 

As Simon and Henry came up to the front, Henry seemed to have only just realized who Wilhelm was working with, and suddenly looked like he had received charcoal for Christmas.

Everyone headed to the library to work. As soon as they walked in together, he coxuld feel the stares. He glanced around for a moment. He suddenly felt two faces turned toward him. Katrina and Albin were whispering to each other. They didn’t even bother looking away when he met their eyes. 

“How about over there, where it’s… um, emptier,” he suggested, pointing at the cafe area. “Also I need coffee.”

Stella casually nodded. “Yeah, uh, sure. Could use a coffee too.”

He followed her toward a table in the furthest corner, by the barista counter and let her pick her seat. At least they were hidden enough that people wouldn’t be staring directly at them. Only Britta and another second year girl were sitting nearby; she waved at him, as he and Stella got their coffees and sat down to work. 

Stella didn’t seem too keen to talk, hunched over the paper, a pencil between her teeth. It was like she was slowly shrinking into a ball. He had never seen her like that. 

Wilhelm skimmed the poems and opened his laptop. He typed in the names of the two authors in the browser.

“Okay, so how do we do this? What should we include in the presentation, and who does what?” 

Stella scratched her neck. “Um… How about one of us talks about the authors first, and the other one talks about the poems?“ she proposed.

“Okay, Got the authors here. It says here that Edith Södergran was a big influence for Karin Boye. So there are probably similarities in their styles and themes.”

Stella was nodding. “Maybe we also look up what each poem is supposed to be about.” 

Wilhelm noticed that she had barely looked at him at all. 

They sat in silence for a moment, reading. He was starting to get a headache.

“I’m not very good at poetry,” she said with a chuckle.

“Neither am I,” He replied, snickering too. “Okay, which part do you want to do?”

“Um… I guess… I can talk about the poems. So you go first.”

Wilhelm grumbled. “I hate talking in front of people.”

Stella finally looked at him and let out a little chuckle. “You literally stood in front of a crowd at the jubilee and gave a speech.” 

“Yeah, and we all know how that went,” he said sardonically. “And I felt so ill before.”

He didn’t know why he was telling her all this. Probably to make her feel more at ease. It seemed to be working, at least.

“Oh.” She pushed a lock of hair out of her forehead. “I thought that royals were taught public speaking.”

“Yeah, I have, but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it, or that I don’t still hate it. Also I didn’t expect to have to give speeches until I was eighteen.”

“Hmmm, makes sense. Speaking in public is… hard,” she said, somewhat sympathetically. “Maybe this could be practice?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

He went back to reading, but she didn’t. She was staring at him, like she was thinking of something else to say. He glanced up at her; her usual intense gaze was replaced with meekness. She looked down at the table. 

“Um…” she started suddenly, clearing her throat. “I’ve been meaning to say that… I thought you were- that was really brave… what you said… In your speech.”

He blinked, surprised and a little confused. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about that with her, or with anyone. 

“Oh… thank you,” he said. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fidgeting with her pencil. She glanced casually in every direction, like she was making sure there was no one around, then leaned forward ever so slightly, hesitating for a long time before she spoke.

“What’s it like now?” she asked, in a tiny voice.

“What’s what like?” 

“Being out.”

Wilhelm looked up at her, saw her earnest face.

“Oh,” he said quietly, realizing what she was implying. He stared at her, until she blushed and looked down. 

“Um…” he cleared his throat and gave a tiny shrug. “I don’t know…” he started in an equally small voice. “I guess… good?”

She raised her eyebrows, curiously. 

“Like… lighter, like a weight was lifted.” He scratched his neck. “Yeah, I guess that’s… what I feel.” 

Stella, face stony, gave a small chuckle. “So, it’s… not just a cliché?” 

He, on the other hand, laughed. “Surprisingly no, it’s actually true. At least for me.” 

She looked down at the table and nodded lightly. 

“In my case,” he started again, “it was never about… needing to come out, or figuring out what I am… it was more about… having to keep it secret, because of my position and what it could mean.” 

Stella still didn’t say anything, her expression inscrutable. 

“I think talking about it with someone really helped,” he added. “Like the counselor, he helped me realize some important stuff. And it made me feel better, to have someone to talk to about it. Or… could be anyone. A best friend maybe. Someone that would be supportive.”

Stella froze, her eyes fleeting to the side for a split second, toward the library, before she looked down again. 

“Oh,” Wilhelm mumbled. “Well, I’m sure there’s always someone to talk to.”

There was a stretch of silence. He didn’t know how to get back to the work now. It would be too awkward to pretend like they hadn’t just had a mini conversation about something of that magnitude.

“Yeah,” Stella finally spoke, her voice even smaller now, “in my case… it’s not really about needing to come out either… but it is about… someone… and… how things could change.”

Her cheeks were suddenly pink. 

“I get it,” Wilhelm said. “Well, I would say you could talk to me, but I doubt that you want that. I don’t think I’d be much help, but also we don’t know each other that well.”

She shook her head. “No, I guess we don’t,” she said. “It’s fine.” She offered another small smile. “Thanks.”

He returned the smile. “No problem.”

Another, longer stretch of silence followed. 

“Just to be clear,” she suddenly added, “I don’t have a crush on you.”

He snickered. “I got that.”

“People are just… stupid,” she huffed. He made a face.

“Tell me about it.”

“I was trying to see if… if people acted or… treated you differently now.”

He nodded and shrugged. “I guess that’s probably inevitable.”

“Yeah…” She looked around for a moment. 

“But… I guess I was also… trying to see… if you seemed different since that day…”

“Oh…” He certainly hadn’t noticed her staring at him any more than anyone else did. “Do I?”

She shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

“Good different?”

“I guess…” she said with a smile. But it was quickly replaced with something like sympathy. “I know it must have been hard for you…. after your brother… and the video… you seemed… like you had a lot going on.”

He stared at her, slightly taken aback. Never in a million years would he have imagined himself having such a conversation with Stella. He had always thought of her, certainly unfairly, as a bit shallow. Probably because he didn’t know her that well. But maybe there was a reason why she was friends with Felice; maybe they weren’t so dissimilar.  

“And now you do seem, as you say, lighter,” Stella added. 

He tried to keep a straight face and said nothing. 

Stella let out a small sigh. “You’re… kind of the first person I’ve told…”

He nodded slowly, trying not to look as surprised as he felt. Why him? Why not one of her friends?

“How does it feel? To have told someone?” he asked instead.

 She made an undecided move with her head and shrugged, but she smiled a little. 

“Okay, sorry, let’s get back to work,” he said. 

“Sure,” she said quietly, mouth pressed tight to keep from smiling. 

By the end, they had a rough draft of their presentation, and Stella seemed more herself all of a sudden, meekness gone. 

Wilhelm met up with Simon outside the library. 

“I see he’s still alive and unhurt,” he said, referring to Henry behind him. Simon looked like he could use a coffee too.

“Yeah, he apologized several times, which got annoying from the beginning. You know when someone sounds completely insincere? Henry is an expert. He also spent half of the time asking me what was so great about you that a certain blond might see in you.”

“I did offer you the chance to trade partners with me, and you declined.”

“Whatever. I managed to do most of the work when he wasn’t babbling. What about you?”

“Not too bad.”

Simon seemed a bit underwhelmed by his answer. 

“Sara and Felice seemed okay,” Wilhelm mentioned quickly. Felice had left, whilst Sara stayed behind, alone at the table. 

After class, they had fencing, and by the end, Wilhelm was exhausted. He hoped this meant he’d be able to sleep later. He leaned on Simon the whole way back to Forest Ridge. 

After a shower and fresh clothes, they were studying in Wilhelm’s room. Simon sat at the desk, on his laptop, and Wilhelm in the spare bed—formerly Simon’s bed—, with his back against the wall, reading Edith Södergran’s and Karin Boye’s biographies. His mind, however, was back on August and Parents Weekend. 

“So… what did you and Stella talk about?” Simon asked casually, spinning around casually in the desk chair. 

Wilhelm might have read the same short paragraph nine times without registering a word.

“Hm?”

“Earlier. You two were having coffee, and you looked like you were talking about… well, not the coursework.”

Wilhelm sighed. “Shit, Simon, you’re not jealous, are you?” he groaned, but after a beat, he perked up and smirked. “Wait, are you?”

Simon rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not.”

Wilhelm doubled down, slowly running a hand through his hair. “Because she was totally flirting with me, like reeeeaally coming on to me and I didn’t know what to do,” the hand continued even slower down the back of his neck, “I was too shy to stop her, but… I didn’t want you to be… jealous.” He brought his hand around the side of his neck and casually pushed the collar of his sweater aside, fingers caressing the infamous lovebite spot from weeks ago. 

Simon was smoldering him with a glare. “You are such an idiot,” he muttered, but he was having trouble keeping a straight face. “I’m not jealous. I’m just curious. I’m pretty sure that you and Stella have never exchanged more than two sentences.”

“I was surprised too. She was… nice, though.”

Simon stood up from his chair and sat beside Wilhelm, legs crossed.

“But seriously, what did you talk about?”

Wilhelm peered at him curiously. “Why do you want to know?”

Simon shrugged. “Because it actually looked a bit like… a deep, secret conversation.”

“You were soooo jealous. You kept an eye on us. Admit it,” Wilhelm teased, poking Simon’s cheek, making him scowl again. 

“No, I wasn’t jealous. I was… missing you. And Henry is convinced the rumors are true, and Stella wants to get with you or something, and he wouldn’t stop talking about it. And you two being suddenly all… chummy made him worse.”

“I bet he was. Sorry you had to deal with him,” Wilhelm said. “By the way, Stella did confirm that she does not in fact have a crush on me.”

“Not like I cared.”

Wilhelm winked at him. “Sure you didn’t. But… how about we never tell Henry and we watch him continue to boil with jealousy?”

“Whatever you think will make him suffer most.”

Wilhelm hoped that was it for that, but Simon was still looking at him. 

“So? Was it a deep conversation or not?”

“Sorry. I can’t tell you.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Why not?”

“Because… I can’t.”

“Oh so it is a secret.”

“Yeah, but it’s not my secret. And it has nothing to do with you or me. So I’m not gonna blab to you just because you’re curious.”

Simon scoffed. “I’m not curious to know what the secret is. But now I’m curious about why she would share a secret with you…” he trailed off, eyes widening again. 

“I’m not talking about this anymore, sorry. I have to finish reading this before dinner. Should we watch a movie afterwards?”

Simon’s mouth fell open slowly, and Wilhelm sighed. It was obvious from the look on his face that Simon had already connected the dots; that  Wilhelm and Stella had so rarely spoken, even when they had a friend in common, and that conjured a very short list of topics that they could have in common at all, one of them being the thing over which Simon was wide-eyed and gaping like a fish. 

“You are too smart and clever for your own good,” Wilhelm grumbled. 

“Stella? Really?” Simon mouthed.  

Wilhelm shut his eyes and rubbed his face. “Leave it, Simon.”

“Sorry. I’m obviously not going to tell anyone. But… I guess… holy shit,” Simon’s eyes widened even more and he dropped his voice to a discreet whisper, as an extreme precaution, “does she by any chance like a certain best friend and roommate with whom she’s completely inseparable and has been seen many times kissing at parties? Or would that be too on the nose?”

“Simon, I swear to God, if any of this gets back to her, you realize that she’d have no problem murdering me, don’t you?”

Simon pretended to zip his mouth shut. 

“Yeah, you better. We’re not speaking of this ever again.” Wilhelm pointedly turning back to his reading. 

But Simon wasn’t quite done. “First Nils, and now Stella…” he mused. “You are really starting a revolution.”

Wilhelm made a face. “I didn’t do anything…”

Simon gave him a look. “Babe, you literally made headline news all over the world.”

“Okay, whatever, babe. Changing the subject now. Movie later?”

“What if she does something now? What if next time we see them they’re a thing?”

“Oh fuck, Stella is going to kill me…”

There was a knock on the door. Wilhelm gasped.

“Maybe that’s her, she’s here to murder me, and it’s all your fault.” 

Simon laughed and got up to open the door. 

“Hello, Simon,” Jan-Olof’s voice came from the hallway. 

Wilhelm froze, a cold chill running down his back. He felt like his guts had disappeared. 

“Jan-Olof, h-hello,” Simon replied, his voice sounding empty, like something similar had happened to his guts. “What- why are you here?”

“Minou told me that she made the Crown Prince aware that I would be paying a visit today. I assumed he would have told you.”

Wilhelm recovered his senses and stood up, mouth dry. He looked at the door, at Jan-Olof standing outside. 

Simon turned slowly toward him. “No, he, uh… he didn’t mention it,” he said flatly.

“Well, I had an appointment just now with August, and since Lundqvist —you’ve met Lundqvist, haven’t you?—, since he was done with your clothing as well, we thought we’d kill two birds with one stone.”

Simon looked like he had swallowed a wasp. Wilhelm shifted his eyes over to Jan-Olof and put on as much of a smile as he could muster.

“Hello, Jan-Olof, yes, please come in,” he greeted politely, moving in front of Simon, almost as if he were shielding him. Jan-Olof stepped aside first to allow Lundqvist to come in with his garment bags and equipment on the rolling rack. Lundqvist greeted them both with a bow, and started setting up.  

“Good afternoon, Crown Prince. I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your… study session,” Jan-Olof said, gesturing to the open laptops. “This was rather short notice, I know, but since we were already here…”

“Yes, I suppose you really like to take care of this part,” Wilhelm answered, as Lundqvist set up the folding screen and started unzipping all the garment bags. Jan-Olof put his hands behind his back.

“Indeed I do. I personally oversaw any tailoring duties for Crown Prince Erik, and for your father, the Prince Consort, and before that for His Majesty King Gustaf, your grandfather. And very proud of having worked closely with all of them.”

Wilhelm was sure he’d tear off his own ears if he ever had to hear Jan-Olof talk to him, or rather lecture him, about his own family as if he didn’t know who they were. Beside him, Simon looked like he might spontaneously combust. 

“Crown Prince, if you would please,” Lundqvist requested, gesturing for Wilhelm to get behind the screen.

Wilhelm put on his suit and got up on the stepping stool, hearing Jan-Olof saying things like ‘perfect’ as Lundqvist fluttered around him, checking every hem and cuff. 

And then it was Simon’s turn to try on many more clothes, and Wilhelm didn’t know how long either of them would be able to take of this, without unravelling completely. It only took half an hour, but it felt unending. 

Even seeing Simon in his suit again, seeing him cut a fine, dashing figure, did little to lift Wilhelm’s spirits, as Jan-Olof stood by. The man appraised him, nodding approvingly, saying something like ‘very nice, very nice’, and it made Wilhelm’s blood boil. 

“Excellent work, as always, Lundqvist,” Jan-Olof announced, as Lundqvist collected his equipment again, and then continued to prattle about something, but Wilhelm wasn’t paying attention. He watched Simon, who was leaning against the desk, arms crossed and shoulders tense, eyes fixed on the garment bags now lying on the bed. 

“It was great seeing you again, Crown Prince, and you too, Simon,” Jan-Olof declared, even though his face was permanently set to displeased, “Hope you have a good rest of your evening.”

“Quick question, Jan-Olof,” Wilhelm began. “Why didn’t you notify me directly that you were coming?”

“Well, as I mentioned, this was short notice,” Jan-Olof stated. ”I was in fact coming this past weekend, but you wouldn’t have been here.”

“I see. So you changed the plan for us?”

“Actually, it was August’s suggestion, that we wait for your return,” Jan-Olof said, giving him what Wilhelm could only assume was an attempt at a smirk. 

Wilhelm nodded pleasantly. “Of course it was.”

Jan-Olof and Lundqvist left. Wilhelm closed the door, and turned slowly. 

Simon took the garment bags in his arms. “I’m going to put these in my room, and then we should head to dinner,” he mumbled, and crossed the hallway into his own room and closed the door. 

Wilhelm stood there, disconcerted, feeling like his guts had left him permanently. 

— 

They barely spoke on the way to the dining hall, or during dinner. Wilhelm had lost his appetite; he watched Simon play around with his food. 

Out of the corner of his eye, August chatted animatedly with Pär. He could imagine him smugly talking about why the Royal Court was sending him a tailor, in his smug voice, with his smug face. 

They barely spoke when they returned to the dorms, and got ready for bed. They were sleeping in Simon’s room tonight.

Wilhelm felt exhausted, and angry and sick. 

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, just as Simon was settling into his side of the bed. 

“What? No. I’m not,” Simon immediately responded, his tone harsh. “Sorry, I’m just in a bad mood, because of him. Them… But it’s not you.” He looked at Wilhelm, his expression softening a bit. “It’s not you.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard. “I should have told you,” he muttered.

“Yes, you should have,” Simon replied sourly, lying on his side. “But I get why you didn’t.” 

Wilhelm lay down, staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I got distracted when Minou mentioned this weekend was Parents Weekend. It… threw me off.”

Simon rolled onto his back. “Yeah. This… sucks,”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Wilhelm, and Simon growled. “Not sorry, um… not sorry,” Wilhelm quickly corrected himself. Simon sat up. 

“Why do you always think I’m angry at you?”

Wilhelm felt that was a trick question, because Simon sounded angry, or at least annoyed. 

“I don’t always think that… but I’ve done enough things before that made you angry, like keep things from you. Things that have made me angry at myself too.” 

Simon rubbed his forehead. “Look, I know that I’m moody and reactive, like on Friday, and I need to learn to control that, but I don’t want you to be afraid of talking to me, of telling me things.” He turned fully toward him. “Even if you think it’ll make me angry. Because even if I am momentarily angry at you, I still love you, and I trust you. Okay?”

Wilhelm let out a long exhale. Simon stretched out beside him, head propped up on his elbow, and looked down at him.

“I know we’ve been going through a lot, and it’s been hard, and I know you’re under a lot of pressure… But you can always talk to me. We can always work things out.”

Wilhelm touched Simon’s face. “You’re… shit… I love you so much.”  

“I love you too, even though you’re sometimes a bit of an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot because I love you and… I’m always going to panic about losing you.”

“Then I’m an idiot too.”

Wilhelm pulled him down into his arms, wrapping him up. 

“It’s still hard sometimes, I’m… I guess… I don’t want you to ever be mad at all. I wish things were… not perfect, nothing is perfect, but I wish we could just be… chill? You know, I wish we didn’t have to worry about something new all the fucking time. I wish everything was easier.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Simon mumbled into his neck. 

“But yeah… I feel so… afraid all the time. And I don’t want to be, I can’t be…”

“Yes, you can. You’re allowed. Just because you’re afraid doesn’t mean that you can’t be brave too.” 

Wilhelm shook his head. “I’m a mess. I can’t fucking sleep, I’m anxious all the time. I literally crumble when fucking Jan-Olof shows up. I’m still so… afraid. And this week… with everyone, Felice and Sara and Rosh and Maddie and Ayub, helping us… I just… they’re risking so much by getting involved, and…” tears sprung to his eyes, his voice thicker, “I don’t want to disappoint anyone, especially you…” he sniffled. “And I’m- ugh, I’m afraid I’m gonna fuck it up, and-”

“Hey, hey, no, no, Wille, no, please listen, listen to me,” Simon quickly sat up, taking one of Wilhelm’s hands and pressing it to his chest, caressing his face. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too, but… you’re incredible, you… you’re so brave, you’re the bravest boy I know, and I can’t believe you’re doing this for me, and I’m… I love you so much.”

He wiped Wilhelm’s tears, and leaned down to kiss him, his lips, his wet cheeks, his entire face, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I know you’re worried this won’t work, I worry too,” he said, his eyes glistening. “But… we’ll make it work. And we won’t fuck it up. Because we’re doing this together, and we make each other braver.”

Wilhelm sniffled again and nodded. Simon lay back down, arms around each other, tight, like they would never let go.

“What I wanna know is what pathetic excuse did Minou give for sending Jan-Olof in her place, I will never forgive her,” Simon grumbled, making Wilhelm laugh through his tears. 

“To be fair, she did genuinely apologize for it.”

Simon kissed his forehead, and Wilhelm felt some of the tension ebb away. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” Wilhelm whispered sleepily.

“I love you too,” came the soft answer. 

Everything felt monumental. The good things, the great things, like love, desire, joy and hope. 

The bad things also felt monumental. Fear and defeat and hopelessness. 

And everything in between felt… fragile.

But Wilhelm had to believe that everything would work out.

Notes:

*Svinstad literally translates as “Pig city”. And it is literally a lake near the real Bjärstad.
The whole sunrise lake thing was not inspired by the recently released photos, otherwise I would have made them take their clothes off and jump in the water (also I’m guessing those scenes happen much later in the season, when it’s presumably warmer…?). No, it was just me wanting to give my babies a nice little golden moment together. Like their season 1 lakeside date.
Way before I realized I was queer myself, I was always very vocally supportive of the LGBTQIA+ community, and one time I had a friend of a friend come out to me kind of like this. Granted, I think this person thought I was out and probably assumed I was lesbian or bisexual, but the fact that they felt even remotely comfortable with me to come out to me (they weren’t out to our mutual friend, yet, and they were trying to figure out if it would be okay), it made me feel so good, that I could be that for someone. I don’t know what might happen with Stella’s story this season, but I really hope that she’s not left with the fear of someone (Sara) threatening to out her.
Stella saying that she’s not good at poetry, and not liking it, is an off-handed lie. We all heard the poem she wrote to Fredrika. Not a masterpiece, but much better than “Madison Madison, you make my heart go like badminton.”
Also Wilhelm asking her how she felt about telling someone is a little nod to that scene in Heartstopper, when Nick tells Tara and Darcy. 

Chapter 28: Tagged

Summary:

“But you weren’t together, technically, were you? You said you were just hanging out.”
Marcus POV

Notes:

Urrggh, this one was painful to write, and I know it will be painful for some people to read, but… I’m trying to do a thing here, so bear with me. Don’t hate me.
For starters, let me clarify that I’m not a Marcus apologist, nor will I ever be. But I don’t want to believe that every terrible person has to remain terrible, because that would be awful. So I hope that by the end of this chapter, you might get what I was trying to do.
TW: mentions of trauma, mentions of child porn, mentions of gaslighting, self-deprecation, slut-shaming, mentions of victim-blaming.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Thirty six notifications on Instagram.

Marcus grumbled at his phone, head falling back onto the pillow, closing his eyes for a moment. He made the mistake of opening Instagram as soon as he woke up, to find all the mentions and tags that had accumulated from the day before. 

He had mostly ignored his phone on Sunday, busy hosting a small gathering with family and friends for his mother’s birthday. The last time he checked his phone, there had been fifteen, and now they had more than doubled.

There were five different posts where had been tagged in the comments, but all five were the same thing: a photo of two people sitting on a pier by a lake with the purple pink morning sky behind them. 

- thats lake svinstad. thats like right around the corner from you @marcus, eh?

- @marcus IN UR OWN TURF BRO SUCKS

- did u take that picture @marcus? were u stalking them?

Marcus ignored the 33 other messages, and instead opened the original post and read the caption. He rolled his eyes. 

He zoomed in on the faces of the two people in the photo. Sure enough, it was Simon Eriksson and the crown prince, smiling with their arms around each other. As the caption indicated, it was during the sunrise. The name of the person who posted it sounded vaguely familiar; their profile consisted of a lot of nature pictures, especially flowers, and some pictures of a cat; this was one of the very few pictures that contained people.

Now, if one went past Simon’s house, there wasn’t a trace of the horde of reporters and photographers that had made the area infamous for the span of three days after the prince’s speech went viral. For a while it seemed that the hype had died down. And yet there were posts about them them in social media every single day. It wasn’t just reporters and photographers snapping pictures and videos of them now, it was random people, mostly the students at the school they attended. 

And he had been tagged in probably every single one of them. For three fucking weeks. 

It was insane, and annoying. Less than 24 hours after Simon had tried to apologize to him for ignoring him, for basically treating him like a rebound—but, of course, not for sleeping with someone else—, his phone had become flooded, and it hadn’t stopped since. 

He was tagged on three separate TikTok and Instagram live streams from students during the jubilee speech; on multiple local and national news accounts that were posting pictures and videos of Simon in uniform trying to make his way home after the jubilee; on the same accounts later when they were posting photos and videos of the house, where nothing was happening, and the fucking palace in Stockholm, where nothing was happening either; on the multiple news sources and coverages on the whole timeline of the relationship, including clips of the infamous video; on the official royal family account where they posted the official press release; and on every single media outlet sharing and publishing reactions to the official announcement. 

And all because he had told a few people that he was dating Simon Eriksson. Predictably, it had spread like wildfire. 

“Simon Eriksson, the guy from the sex video?” 

“Ooooh, liked what you saw, didn’t you?”

“Don’t get caught on video too, though!”

That was what Simon became known for in Bjärstad, and possibly all of Sweden: the boy from the sex video. 

Marcus had seen the video, of course he had seen it, it was impossible to not see it when everyone around him was watching it and sharing it. But the video hadn’t been the reason. Not the only one, at least.

Simon had been one of the few out gay guys in Marieberg, and in Bjärstad actually, so Marcus thought that he might have a shot with someone like him; he already knew of Simon thanks to his sister Sara, and his mum and Simon’s mum were friendly. 

Besides, Marcus was hardworking, had good grades, had his own place and his own car, and he was a gentleman. He had thought that those qualities would make him quite the catch. 

Plus, it was probably safer and more within range for Simon to go out with someone like Marcus, than hooking up with whoever he had been filmed with at that school (who looked remarkably like the new crown prince). 

And so he thought he had a pretty good shot. 

He had been wrong.

Marcus scrolled through his own feed to find a slideshow with pictures and a video that he had posted about a month and a half ago, of him and Simon and their friends, from when they went to the karaoke. He had thought a few times of deleting it. When he posted it, he had tagged everyone in it, so he clicked on @Simon.

Simon had blocked him shortly after their last conversation. It seemed like that hadn’t changed.

Marcus only wished he had blocked him first.

He really wanted to put all of that behind him. But it was not easy when people wouldn’t let him.

It was like he deserved to be humiliated forever for aspiring to have a relationship. 

So of course, the next day consisted of people bringing the newest viral post up with him incessantly.

“Did you see the latest post?” 

“Hey, did you see the picture?”

“Did you see the post from this weekend?”

“Dude, they got photographed in the town this time.”

The sardonic, mocking tone from everyone drilled into his bones. He crossed the school yard ignoring them all, and approached his friends David, Sara and Nadiya, who sat on the front steps waiting for him. 

“Hey man,” his friend David said as soon as he saw him. He detected a tone of sympathy in David’s voice.

“What?” he asked, in lieu of a greeting. 

“Nothing, just hey,” David said, now slightly defensive. 

“How was your mum’s birthday last night?” Sara asked. 

Before he could answer, he saw people glancing at him, snickering, out of the corner of his eye.

“Dude, you gotta ignore them,” David said. 

“I’m trying.”

“Is it about the post from yesterday?” Nadiya asked, and Sara gently smacked her leg. “What? We’re gonna pretend like we don’t know? How do you feel?”

“Why do I have to feel some way? It’s none of my business, and I don’t care,” Marcus responded, but as he spoke, he basically slammed his backpack onto the step before sitting down beside it with a huff.

“Yeah, clearly,” Nadiya said sarcastically.

“I don’t give a fuck. What I do give a fuck about is people not leaving me alone about it,” he groaned. “People won’t shut up about it. And they are driving me crazy, tagging me on everything that has to do with them.”

“Dude, you’re gonna have to start blocking people, or change your account to private,” David pointed out.

“Yeah, maybe until things quiet down,” Sara added. 

Would they quiet down? Marcus had no idea when that would be. It had been almost a month, and it looked like it wouldn’t for now. Not the attention on Simon and his boyfriend, and not people having fun taunting him. 

It wasn’t always taunting him, though. A lot of people talked shit about Simon too. Class traitor, gold-digger, opportunistic, crown whore… people started speculating whether the latest pics and the video itself might have been a ploy to gain attention. Or whether the whole thing was set up by the monarchy itself, for whatever reason.

“Yeah, it definitely looks set up, you know? I bet they had someone take the picture.”

“I bet it’s for the publicity.”

“I know the woman who took it, she has a flower shop in Linköping, she and her partner are always biking around the area really early. She just happened to be around there that morning.”

“Wait, so you think all the posts from the kids in their school, that’s, like, a coordinated effort? To boost their popularity or something?”

“Yeah, maybe. I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“They’re trying to make themselves relevant. You know, after that whole mess, everyone assumed that the crown was homophobic.”

“I mean, even the Norwegians already established that the heirs can be with anyone they want and it’s cool, but over here? Not so much.”

“It just goes to show, maybe we should scrap that whole system altogether, once and for all. It’s outdated. I mean, does anyone even really care what they do or don’t do?”

“You’d be surprised. Those kids at that school love the royals.”

That was another type of discourse around it: people pretending not to care at all, but then talking about nothing else.

Then someone would always say, “and what do you think, Marcus?” 

“What do I think about what?” he asked nonchalantly, barely looking up from his notebook. 

“I mean, do you think he’s an attention-seeker?” the person continued; in this case it was Sven, a classmate who was way too outspoken for someone so stupid. “Because, you know, if he is, then the move from a sex video with the crown prince to you, and then back to the crown prince… that was pretty weird, right? Not a lot of attention when it was you. Not even a photo.”

“That’s right. Did anyone even post about you? Did he?” one of Sven’s friends chimed in, her voice shrill.

“He did post about the boyfriend, last year. Before the video came out. Remember that one, from the football game? The one that he took down a while later?” 

“Oh yeah, that definitely got some attention…”

Marcus sneered at them and turned back to his work before class would start.

He was blocked now, but if he remembered correctly, Simon hadn’t posted any pictures of them together at all. There might have been a story or two, a selfie of him and Ayub at the karaoke, and one of the view from their pizza ‘date’, but both times, the pictures didn’t actually include Marcus. He didn’t even tag him on them. 

On the other hand, Marcus did post pictures. A few of them. He hadn’t taken any of them down.

What was so wrong with being public about his excitement of being with someone? He shouldn’t be ashamed of it.

“But you weren’t together, technically, were you? You said you were just hanging out,” Sara pointed out during lunch. 

“Yeah, but I hoped we’d be more than that eventually,” Marcus said, playing with his food. He wasn’t hungry.  

“But you still posted about it, like you already were more… official. I mean… did you ask him if he wanted to be public about it?” Sara asked. 

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Why does that have to be a big deal?”

Sara shook her head. “I’m just saying… maybe he didn’t want it.”

“Because I’m not the fucking prince?”

Nadiya threw him a look, and Sara seemed disconcerted. “No, because… because he had just had his face plastered everywhere.”

“You know what, I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s just- oops, sorry.”

He stood up so fast that he accidentally bumped into someone when they were walking behind him. Marcus held out an apologetic hand toward the person, as if steadying them, and realized it was Ayub. Simon’s friend. 

“Uh, sorry,” he repeated. Ayub shook his head and mumbled ‘no worries’, and continued on his way.

Beside him, though, Simon’s other friend, Rosh regarded him with something akin to hostility, but said nothing, and followed after Ayub. Marcus sat back down. 

“Uh-oh, I sensed a negative vibe there,” David said. 

Even his friends had been supportive at first, when he told them what happened. The ball, the ghosting, the pathetic attempt at an apology.

But then the videos and pictures of Simon walking home besieged by photographers flooded social media, footage of his house surrounded, news reports from Stockholm speculating that the crown prince was being purposely hidden away for coming out, LGBTQIA+ groups gathered outside the palace voicing their support, and the mood shifted.

“Poor things,” Sara said, watching a TikToker in Australia explaining the situation in a one-minute video.

And then after that, it felt like every time Marcus tried to vent to them about the issue, when he was seeking their support, they weren’t so quick to take his side anymore. 

Not that they took Simon’s side either. Nadiya was the first one to point out that it seemed that Simon had simply rushed into it, probably knowing full well that he wasn’t ready for anything, that he was still hung up on someone else, and that he should have told Marcus that.

Marcus may or may not have clarified that Simon did try to break things off, and maybe Marcus had been the one who convinced him not to. After all, he thought that Simon wanted the attention, and Marcus was willing to give it. He thought that they had good chemistry.

Maybe he had pushed it. 

But there were still two people in that equation. And maybe Nadiya had a point, that Simon shouldn’t have sought him out in the first place. 

It had been, after all, Simon who had contacted him first, who had made the first move. 

Technically, Marcus had made the first move, when he introduced himself, but the fact that Simon contacted Marcus later, when the ball was in his court, had to mean something. Like maybe there was something there worth exploring. 

Maybe he had read too much into it. Because Simon had merely asked him for a ride to the school to look for his sister in some party, only to come back alone, huffing like he had been running around, looking distraught.

“Everything okay?” Marcus asked. Simon nodded, rubbing his hands together to warm up. He had remained quiet the rest of the way back to his house, and Marcus knew that it wouldn’t be easy. So before Simon got out of the car, he got up the nerve and decided to shoot his shot, and invited him to karaoke with his friends. 

So the fact that Simon showed up to the karaoke, also had to mean something. Sure, he brought a friend, and Marcus’s own friends were there too, but it wasn’t meant to be a date. It was just supposed to be fun, and silly, and laid back, to show Simon that he was fun and silly and laid back. And it seemed to work. 

And after that, the fact that it had been Simon who contacted him and asked him to hang out every time, to come over to his house, to meet up for lunch, to come to the most over-the-top and elitist party he could have ever imagined, that had to mean something too… 

Didn’t it?

Even if Simon seemed hesitant, even if he had tried to break things off, Marcus didn’t want to give up so easily. Because they had fun, they were starting off slow, they were getting to know each other. 

That was why he had stopped him when Simon wanted to go too fast. He wanted things to go in the right order, to have a chance to show him how he did things. 

But it was all bullshit. Simon hadn’t wanted any of those things. He only wanted a rebound. Only a distraction. A way to make a certain someone jealous. 

So it was a little discouraging that, when he was hoping they would support him, his friends sometimes said things that he wasn’t expecting.

“Maybe you should have let it cool down a bit before going for it,” David suggested one time. “Maybe it was too soon.”

“He’s just a kid. I don’t think he was ready for anything serious,” Sara pointed out on another occasion.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged about it,” Nadiya said the last time. 

“When did I brag about it?” Marcus retorted.

“Dude… you… you kind of did. Like, back when the video came out. You said ‘I know him, he’s the son of my mum’s friend, I see his sister all the time at the fancy school’,” David said. 

Marcus scoffed. “How is that bragging?”

“Because you were, like, pointing out that you knew him, the guy who just became famous for a sex tape.”

“It’s fucking Bjärstad. Everyone knows everyone around here.”

“Yeah, but it’s like… even though he’s one of the few gay guys around here, you didn’t really care about him until he was in the sex video,” Nadiya pointed out. 

“Fuck you, guys,” Marcus said bitterly. Nadiya fixed him with a stare.

“Fuck you, man. Just because you don’t want to admit it, doesn’t mean it’s not true,” she replied with a huff. “Never mind. Look, I get it, you wanted to shoot your shot, and it didn’t go the way you hoped it would. Whatever, move on.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Thanks, very helpful,” he muttered. 

He might have said all those things. And it was precisely because everyone knew everyone in Bjärstad, it was too small not to know everyone. And so when the video made the rounds, everyone immediately recognized him. 

“Isn’t that the gay kid with the weird sister?”

“Simon Eriksson?”

Simon, the Latino guy, who’s dad was an alcoholic and addict, who’s sister got bullied and missed a lot of school and had to be held back a year. Simon, who followed his sister to the rich kids school. 

Marcus himself was a target a few times for being gay too, but people never went beyond calling him things or talking behind his back; nobody would mess with him. That was the good thing about being tall and burly. Also most people didn’t think he ‘looked’ gay. 

But not Simon. Everyone knew he was gay, and he was too pretty, and he liked to sing, and he was small and he looked different. So of course he got bullied too. Marcus would bet, though, that he probably got bullied even worse at the rich kid school. Elitist kids would not just be cool with someone like him at all. 

But Simon was also cute and smart and interesting. 

And so when he finally met him, it was Marcus’s goal to show Simon that he was much better off with someone like him. 

“Just admit it, you just wanted to hook up with the guy from the sex video, the local celebrity.” Tanya, the shrill-voiced girl who always hung out with Sven, taunted him. 

“And did you even manage?” Sven added, shaking his head. “Why did you want to be with that class traitor anyway?”

- You still haven’t paid me for last week - Marcus texted August during his break.

He was almost done with his work at the stables. The weather was getting warmer, and it wasn’t as dark anymore by the time he went home. On the other hand, days felt longer.

His phone buzzed, and he felt that small twinge of dread as he checked what it was. Could be August, or it could be yet another tag notification. 

It was his mother.

- Hey love, if you’re stopping by the shop later, would you be a dear and pick me up milk and crispbread?

- sure no problem - he replied. 

He dropped bales of hay at the entrance of one of the stables, and heard voices coming from one of the stalls when he approached. The two girls, the blond and the brunette who were always hanging out together. Stella and Fredrika, he recognized their voices. Always gossiping.

“… didn’t know that it bothered you so much. People are talking shit about us, like, all the time.”

“Because that’s normal, I guess, but it’s very different for people to say that I suddenly have a thing for him when he just came out, and he’s in a very public relationship. It’s stupid, and like, I never actually did anything to make people think that.”

“Unlike Felice, I guess. Or Britta now.”

“Exactly,” one of them laughed. 

“I mean, she is sooooo obvious…” the other laughed too. “I feel a bit bad for her, like, ‘girl, what are you doing?’ It’s…”

“Yeah,” the other paused for a bit, grunting with effort as she worked. “Didn’t she have a thing with that guy, um, Jakob?”

“Yeah, but that’s over, I mean, he’s graduating and he’s, like, having a bit too much fun without her at the parties. Like, he could have invited her to last Friday’s party, but he didn’t.”

“So now she has her sights set on one half of the royal couple.”

“Presumably.” More grunting and the sound of a pitchfork clattering to the floor. “Oh, shit… Whatever, who cares? All I’m saying is that you’re allowed to like whoever you like, whether it’s possible or not. You can’t help how you feel.”

“Yeah, I know. But seriously, I don’t. I told you before, you’d be the first to know about it.”

“Yeah, you better.”

“And… how about you and Walter…?”

“Nah, he’s rather sweet, at least with me, but…” 

 Marcus walked off, away from the inane conversation. 

It was like everyone everywhere was talking about them all the time. It was like it just wouldn’t go away.

- I thought I had already sent it to you. Sorry, I’ll send it as soon as possible, - August’s reply finally came.

Marcus rolled his eyes and continued on his work. 

Before he headed home, he stopped by the shops, to pick up some groceries, and allergy and asthma meds. 

He usually did the shopping on the weekend, but after his run-in with the crown prince, he thought it safest to stop on his way home from work on a weekday, when they were tucked away in their school. 

Marcus hadn’t told anyone about that encounter. It had been a really stupid thing to do, to talk to him, and he was embarrassed about it. At least no one had overheard. But he was sure that the prince had gone and told Simon about it as soon as he got back. 

It was like August had said, he still had a chip on his shoulder. About getting dumped for the prince of Sweden. 

At this point, though, he wasn’t sure if it was more about the way that things had played out with Simon, or the way that people had taken to taunting him about it. 

Grabbing a basket at the entrance of the Coop, Marcus quickly went through his mental list of the things he needed to get, and the two things his mother asked him to get for her, as he glided through the aisles, picking each item and crossing them off the list. 

He was by the dairy fridges when he heard someone speaking Spanish. 

Linda talked animatedly as she and Sara came around the aisle, each with a basket in hand.

Marcus sighed and wondered if he’d ever be able to go to the shops without running into someone he didn’t want to.

“Ay,” he heard Linda mumble. He turned back to the milk and grabbed the one he was looking for, then moved over to the yogurt. He wasn’t sure if they saw him spot them. Maybe they’d avoid him. 

Unfortunately he felt someone approaching, and suddenly Linda was beside him, reaching for a milk carton. “Hello, Marcus.”

“Hi, Linda,” he said with a half-smile. She smiled awkwardly at him, and cleared her throat. 

“How have you been? How is your mother?”

“Fine,” he replied with a small nod. He was sure that Linda and his mum had not spoken since. Apparently Linda tried making conversation, but his mother politely dismissed her. “I just told her there’s nothing to talk about,” his mother had said to him. “Hope she gets the hint.”

“I know it was her birthday this weekend, I hope she had a nice time,” Linda continued. 

“Yep, she did,” he said briefly. He grabbed the wrong yogurt by accident. 

There was an awkward pause, as Linda stood there, heavy basket in her arm, like she was expecting him to say something else. Why were they even talking anyway? She didn’t owe him anything. 

He grabbed the yogurt he actually wanted and put it in his basket, and discreetly put the mistaken one in another part of the shelf.

“Okay, well, it’s nice to see you again,” she finished, turning slowly.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile again. “You too.”

She timidly walked off. Marcus started toward the next aisle. Sara stood there, a cryptic look on her face. He walked past her without a word. 

He didn’t run into them again, and eventually made his way to the registers. No crown prince in sight either. He paid for his shopping and put it in his car. He still had to get his medication, so he walked over to the pharmacy. 

The prescription counter was on the back; he picked up some over-the-counter allergy meds on the way; he badly depended on those whilst working with hay. And he needed to refill his ashtma prescription. 

Ahead of him, standing by the counter, was Sara. 

Marcus groaned to himself and walked over. 

“Hey, Sara.”

Sara turned and seemed surprised to see him again.

“Hey,” she greeted him, but it sounded more like it had just escaped her lips.

There was an awkward silence. An older lady and presumably her son stood nearby, also waiting. 

“How are things?” he finally asked, feeling that being in silence was too awkward. He had no beef with Sara. 

She nodded lightly. “Good. You?”

“Good.”

He inhaled deeply and tapped the edge of the counter with his finger, impatient and annoyed. “What’s taking so long?”

Sara seemed to come out of a daze. “Um… this is my first time picking up my meds for myself. I’ve only just run out, since I turned eighteen. So they have to update something in the system.” She was likely referring to her ADHD and ASD prescriptions; now that she was an adult, she was responsible for picking up her own prescription medications. 

“Oh,” he muttered. Marcus often forgot that Sara was almost the same age as him, that she would have been in year two if she hadn’t been held back one year. 

He sighed loudly. Sara staring ahead, looking glum. 

Suddenly he remembered what August had said, about him and Sara, about the horse and the drama that happened between them and Simon and the crown prince. 

“Are you… not riding anymore? I haven’t see you around the stables in weeks,” he asked casually.

She blinked and glanced at him momentarily. “Um… no, I… I quit.”

“Ah. Why?”

“Because I don’t have a horse anymore.” She shook her head, staring at her hands. “I mean, I never did, but… Felice quit riding too, and sold her horse. I don’t have a horse to ride anymore.”

He nodded slowly. “And you can’t ride anyone else’s horses?”

“Uh… I could, sure, but… no, I… I got on well with Rousseau. I liked him a lot,” she muttered, her tone doleful. 

Marcus nodded again, frowning in confusion.

“So… why didn’t you keep him?”

She looked up at him, frowning too. “What?”

“When…” 

Marcus stopped talking. August might have been lying, about buying the horse for Sara, and Sara rejecting the gift. He might have been talking bullshit about the whole thing. But he didn’t care what the truth was. He just felt bad for Sara, he always had, for the way that people treated her. That fucking school had done something to her, because everyone knew that she wasn’t living there anymore, she must have moved back home, since people saw her commuting back and forth from the school every day. 

And he knew how much she liked horses, like it was the one thing she really truly liked, and talked about them all the time, and talked about Rousseau as if it were a friend. 

And she had always been nice to him. 

So he felt bad for the way that she had somehow been dragged into something that maybe she didn’t deserve. 

Of course Sara couldn’t afford to own a horse, but that was not the problem. If it had been up to Marcus, he would have accepted the gift and just let rich kid August foot the bill for the horse’s care. 

Sara stared at him, quizzically.

“You know about that?” she asked softly. “You know that… he bought Rousseau back for me?”

He shrugged dismissively. “Yeah.”

“How do you know?”

It occurred to him then that maybe he shouldn’t have told her. That it was a big secret if Sara acted like it was, and if Felice had not had any clue that her horse had been bought back and brought back to Hillerska. 

But he still didn’t care. Whatever reason it had to be a secret, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to play into the Hillerska drama in any way. 

“Because I’ve been taking care of it since. He pays me to.”

Something like discomfort crossed her face. “Oh, so he’s… he’s in the stables?”

“Yeah.”

“Is… is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s great,” he said. “I know how to take care of horses.”

A small chuckle escaped her. He felt a pang of remorse on her behalf. This whole time she had been unaware that her favorite horse had been right there, under her nose. 

“You can come by and visit him any time you want,” he offered. 

Sara seemed to think about it before she vehemently shook her head. “Thanks, but… no. He’s, he’s not mine.”

Marcus shrugged. “He wasn’t yours before either.”

“Yeah, but this… this is different. He’s… I don’t want him. Not like this.”

“Nobody needs to finds out,” he said, feeling a bit bold. He had no idea if August would mind, but he didn’t care either. 

She didn’t look at him again, eyes suddenly fixed on the clock on the wall behind the counter. She was looking at the clock but not really seeing it.

Marcus nodded again. 

“Well, in case you’d like to…” he said, trailing off. 

“Sure.”

He cleared his throat. 

“How’s everything else?”

“Fine. You? You’re… you’re graduating soon?”

“Yeah,” he responded. 

“What are you doing after school?”

“Probably taking a year off to work, save up money.”

“Cool.”

“How about you?”

“I… still have two more years before I graduate.”

He scratched the back of his neck. 

“And, uh, how’s… how’s Simon?” he asked after a pause.

She didn’t reply. In fact, he thought he saw her tense up.

Just then, the pharmacist returned with her prescriptions, and started talking to her. Sara stood at the counter, listening, and then put the meds in her bag and said thank you to the pharmacist, and waved at Marcus.

“See you around,” she said quickly, walking off. 

Marcus wanted to smack his own head against the counter.

Things had not died down the next day yet. People were still tagging him in the post as it became viral. And schoolmates stared at him and talked about him behind his back. 

“Is anyone going to get bored of this ever?” he asked during lunch. 

“Well, we’re talking about Easter,” Nadiya pointed out, gesturing with her fork toward David and Sara and herself. “You’re the one who’s hyper focused on other conversations, when you don’t have to be.”

He shot her a look. It was easy for her to say, when she wasn’t the target of all the badmouthing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, in the next table behind Sara and David, he spotted Simon’s friends, Rosh and Ayub, sitting across from each other. Rosh turned to look at him over her shoulder, then turned back to say something to Ayub. 

“… my aunt’s cabin, maybe, but I’ll have to check,” Sara was saying. “And no, you can’t bring your girlfriend, David. There’s not enough space.”

“Urgh, fine.”

“You guys have not even been going out long enough, so don’t even…”

Marcus tuned them out again, when he saw Rosh standing up, and Ayub seemed to hurry up after her. 

“Marcus? Marcus,” Sara was saying. 

“Huh?”

“Would you come to the cabin too?”

“I have to work.”

“You always have to work,” Nadiya grumbled.

“Yes, I always have to work,” he retorted, half-distracted as he watched Rosh come around the table and approach him. Ayub somewhat trotted up behind her. 

He only looked up when she was right beside him.

“Hey,” she said, but it wasn’t really a greeting. She was frowning. 

“What’s with you?” he said in lieu of a greeting too.

She seemed to look at the rest of the people on the table in turn, and then back at him. 

“I know what you’ve been saying about Simon,” she started, her voice low. “Stop slagging him off.”

Nadiya, David and Sara had stopped talking amongst themselves and were watching him. 

Marcus looked up at her, confused. The fact that she was squarely standing in front of him, defiantly, despite the fact that he was a good head taller than her when he was standing, was both impressive and unnerving. Behind her, Ayub looked like he didn’t know what to do, and remained quiet behind her.

Against his better judgement, he stood up too. He felt Nadiya’s hand on his shoulder momentarily, trying to stop him. But he didn’t like the way that Rosh was looking at him or talking to him, and he was fucking done with everyone’s bullshit and mocking. So he stood up to his full height, to make sure that Rosh knew who she was talking to. 

Me? I’m slagging him off?” he started, pointing at his own chest, before gesturing toward the whole canteen. “Everyone around here talks shit about him.” He tried to keep his voice low too. “But I must be the one instigating it, right? Because I must be the scorned ex.” He added a mirthless laugh and shook his head.

Everyone in the canteen was suddenly looking at them, the noise of the conversations falling to a low hum as people watched. 

Rosh didn’t seem impressed or intimidated by his height. 

“I’m not just talking about that,” she continued. “I know what you said to him too. And what you said to Wille about him. And I’ve been biting my tongue, because it’s probably not worth it, but you don’t get to treat my friend like that.”

Marcus scoffed again. “Like what?”

“Like you know him, like you know anything about him, about them,” Rosh retorted. “You don’t know anything. You don’t know him, okay?”

The low hum had lowered even further, all faces turned toward them. 

“Okay,” he said, but it wasn’t like a concession, it was rather cynical, and more defiant than he felt.

This was basically the third time they had spoken ever. And whilst the first couple of times they had been pretty nice and cordial, this time was an indication that they would probably never speak again. 

He preferred it that way. He didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. 

Rosh seemed to realize that everyone was staring. Ayub’s hand was suddenly on her shoulder, and she started backing away. 

“Stop playing the victim,” she said. “You’re no victim.”

Ayub waited until she had turned before he followed her, glancing one last time at Marcus. 

Marcus ignored the stares of everyone as they all slowly went back to their business, and sat back down. 

“Wow, bro, way to keep cool,” David said, stabbing a potato from his plate and putting it in his mouth. Marcus glared at him.

“What the fuck? She’s the one who came over.”

“What did you say to him? And when?” Nadiya asked, a curious look on her face. “And when did you talk to his boyfr-”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Marcus interrupted. Nadiya rolled her eyes and continued to eat. David and Sara exchanged looks. Then David made a random comment about his girlfriend, and Sara kind of followed his lead.

Marcus watched Nadiya for a moment, as she reached for her water and drank from it absentmindedly. 

“Why do you believe her?” he asked. Nadiya looked confused.

“I didn’t say I did.”

“Then why did you ask me that?”

David and Sara stopped talking and just looked between Nadiya and Marcus. Nadiya twisted her body toward him.

“Because…” she sighed tiredly, “you seem like you want to talk about it but then you say you don’t, or you change the subject. And it just… it seems to me like… maybe there’s two sides of the story, and we don’t even have one of the sides complete because you don’t want to talk about it. You just want to complain.”

He let out a heavy exhale through his nose, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“I don’t get to complain now?”

Nadiya shook her head. “I didn’t say that. I mean… I get it, I get that people keep dragging you for that whole thing, and it’s annoying, but… at the same time, you’re just gonna have to deal with the fact that people are not going to get over it, and maybe you wouldn’t be so moody if you ignored them. But also-”

“Like it’s so fucking easy,” Marcus grumbled. 

Nadiya rolled her eyes and put her fork down and stood up. 

“Look, you know what? You don’t want to talk about this, so I don’t want to talk about this either. I’m just gonna go. Sorry, but I’m not joining your pity party. Bye,” she grabbed her stuff and her tray and walked off. 

Marcus stayed there for a moment, watching her go, before glancing back at Sara and David, who avoided his gaze, seeming uncomfortable.

It was like his friends were turning on him. 

Nadiya was his closest friend. He had been friends with David longer, and he befriended Sara through Nadiya. But Nadiya was the one that he trusted most, the one he shared things with, the one he trusted most. She was the first person that he came out to, and who helped him the most to come out to his parents and his other friends. She was there for him. 

And they had never argued like this. 

He stood up and put his tray away and walked out of the canteen too. He felt pairs of eyes following him, heard a faint ‘oh no’ from David, heard them standing up too.

Most people were still in the canteen eating, so the corridors were mostly empty. He headed toward Nadiya’s locker. She was going through the contents, and looked up at him when he was right beside her. 

“I’m not having a pity party. But I hoped that you’d be there for me, I hoped that you’d be more supportive,” he hissed at her. Nadiya looked dismayed. 

“But Marcus, you won’t even tell me the whole story. It’s like you’re hiding something,” She pulled out some books and slammed the locker door closed. “Was she right? Did you say something nasty to Simon and his boyfriend? I thought you said you tried to be the bigger person, but that doesn’t sound very mature.”

Marcus gave a shrug. “So I’m supposed to just take that, and pretend that I didn’t get treated like shit?”

“No, I’m not saying that. Stop putting fucking words in my mouth,” she glared at him. “You want me to be there for you, but that includes me being honest to you.”

“Not if you’re just gonna make me feel worse than I do,” he groaned. He heard steps approaching, sensed that it was Sara and David. 

“Well tough. I’m not actively trying to make you feel worse, but I am trying to be objective,” Nadiya responded. “You know, that day when you asked us to come with you to the karaoke, because you wanted to invite Simon and show him that you were a catch or whatever, I get that, and I usually would have been cool with that, been your wingman, but the fact was that it was too soon, and I told you that. This kid had just gone through hell, his fucking face was everywhere. And you wanted to… I don’t know, swoop in and blindside him with your charm or something… You said you wanted to take things slow with him. But then you were telling people that you were having sex with him.”

“I never said that,” Marcus retorted. “People just assumed.”

“But you didn’t correct them, did you? You just let everyone continue to believe that you were.”

Marcus threw his hands up again. “What did you expect me to do? Go up to everyone and say ‘actually, no, we haven’t fucked yet’? I don’t care what people think or say.”

“Well, you obviously do, otherwise you wouldn’t get like this.” Nadiya gestured to him in general. Marcus huffed.  

“So I’m just expected to put up with all this bullshit? Because I got ahead of myself? Because I tried to make it work with someone who just wanted to use me as a… a fucking rebound, and to make someone else jealous?”

“No!” Nadiya growled under her breath and rubbed her face, and let out a loud sigh. “You don’t get it at all, do you? It’s not about you, it’s about him.”

Marcus sighed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you have no fucking idea what it feels like, right? For people to slag you off like that,” Nadiya said, sounding angrier and more frustrated. “I guess guys have no clue for the most part, but girls, we have to deal with that shit all the fucking time. I don’t expect you to get it, but I really hoped you would at least fucking try.”

Marcus fell silent. At the end of the hallway he could see a couple of people who had stopped talking and were listening in. Over to his right he sensed people standing and watching, but he was relieved to find it was just David and Sara. 

Nadiya was still fuming. “Do you get it now, though? Have you even tried to see things from his perspective? I mean, I would also be fucking traumatized that someone recorded me having sex and posted it on the internet, and that’s not even considering that it was child porn. And after the whole world has seen me naked, there’s suddenly this guy being all suave at me and trying to hook up with me. For the fucking clout or… whatever… Meanwhile everyone is already under the impression that he’s fucked me.” She shook her head in disbelief. 

“And you’re upset that you didn’t get laid, because you thought you deserved it for being the nice guy, right? But he didn’t owe you anything. Yet you keep acting like he did.”

She stopped talking, either to collect herself or to give him a chance to talk. But Marcus didn’t. He just stared at her, chest heaving much like hers, angry noisy breaths in and out the nose, like they had just been physically fighting each other.

How long had she been wanting to spit all this out to him?

Her face softened a little, but her eyes still looked at him with disappointment. 

“And everyone keeps taunting you, it sucks, I know.” She shook her head. “But you’re not the victim here.”

More people were starting to come through the corridor, on their way to their lockers or to class. Everyone watched them, standing in front of each other, Nadiya a good foot shorter than Marcus, yet staring up at him defiantly. 

Her expression suddenly became sadder, even more disappointed. “I thought you were different. Turns out you’re just like every other guy.”

Marcus was frozen in place, jaw clenched. 

“Do better,” she added. It was both a demand and a request. 

She walked past him, down the corridor, and Sara followed. David stood there for a moment before heading to his locker, which was close to Nadiya’s. 

Marcus didn’t move for what felt like a whole minute. He didn’t care if people were still staring at him, if they had heard the whole thing. He finally moved, going to his locker to fetch his books, before silently following David to the classroom, thoughts and words swirling in his head.

August came to the stables on Thursday, when Marcus was loading up the truck. 

“I might have a buyer for the horse,” he announced, a gleeful smile on his face. “I’m setting it up for this week, I’m hoping they’ll come by on Monday or Tuesday.”

“You still owe me for last week, and now this week too,” Marcus responded. August looked disconcerted, but it looked fake and arrogant.

“Oh, umm, I thought I already transferred you the money. I’ll check. But anyway, the thing is, the horse might be off your hands soon. I’ll let you know as soon as I confirm the day, so you can have the horse ready for showing to these people. Okay?”

Marcus got on the truck. “That’ll cost you extra.”

“No problem,” August said with a smug smile. 

“Did you come all this way to tell me that?” Marcus asked.

Something strange crossed August’s face for a moment. “Um, no, no, I also wanted to come by and check on Rousseau, not because I don’t trust that you’re taking good care of him, but because… well, technically he’s mine, right? I might as well come and see him. And then I thought I’d tell you in person. As a courtesy, for all the good work you’ve done.”

Marcus sneered at him. “Just send me the money you owe me.”

“Okay, I will, as soon as I get back. I’m… my phone is low on battery,” August said, starting to walk backwards.

“Hey,” Marcus called after a moment of hesitation. “Sara knows about the horse.” 

August stopped, confused. “I know, I told her.”

“No, but she… you didn’t tell her that you were keeping it here, did you?”

Still disconcerted, August shook his head. “She said she didn’t want it. I’ve been trying to talk to her about it, and she’s been… ignoring me.” He frowned. “Did you tell her?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” 

Marcus shrugged. He didn’t have to explain anything to August. August was barely paying him to care for the horse, not to keep his secrets or be his confidante or whatever. 

“And what did she say?” August asked, with an odd expression, almost hopeful.

Marcus shook his head. “Just the same thing she told you, that she didn’t want it, not like that.” 

August nodded distractedly. 

“Um, okay… well, since she doesn’t want it, she won’t mind if I sell it, right?” he finally replied, scratching his neck. “I really hope that I can close this deal by next week, and put this all behind me.”

“Sure,” Marcus muttered.

“Okay, well, I’ll be in touch. See you,” August said with a little wave, turning on his heel and walking out the large doorway.

Marcus watched him go. For a moment he thought about mentioning that Felice also knew, but he decided not to. 

He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t want to have anything to do with any of them anymore.

August might still have a chip on his shoulder over what happened with Sara, and whether it had anything to do with Simon or the prince. But that didn’t mean that he had to have one too. He had enough on his plate dealing with the teasing and getting tagged in everything that had remotely anything to do with Simon. He didn’t have to play into anything else. 

He was done. 

Notes:

There. That’s done, and I promise you that I’m not touching Marcus again even with a ten-foot pole.
It felt good to include Rosh and Ayub in this one, and it felt good to create these characters (well, they technically already existed, we see a very brief glipmse of them in the season 2 episode 1. But I got to flesh them out and use them to tell Marcus everything that we as a fandom have been dying to tell him.
In one of the many analyses about Marcus, someone pointed out something quite interesting: that Marcus’s dynamic with Simon seems very heteronormative, and there’s a lot of him sort of asserting himself as the dominant one in the ‘relationship’, whereas the dynamic between Simon and Wilhelm was much more equal. That whole going slow, following certain steps, felt very much like him projecting himself as the more mature one, the dominant one, the one that sets the pace, and Simon as the more inexperienced, doe-eyed one. Very heteronormative indeed.
So it felt good to do this. And I hope you agree with me. I just want Marcus to get off his high horse and stop pretending to be the victim. And more importantly, not gaslight anyone else ever.

Chapter 29: Can I keep you?

Summary:

Navigating his feelings for Wille has always been daunting.
Simon POV

Notes:

This one is a fluff fest. Just me doing a bunch of callbacks to previous chapters and moments from the show.
Good stuff happens, bad stuff happens, but more importantly, they have a plan.
TW: tooth-rotting fluff. Also very passing mentions of physical and emotional abuse, self-deprecation, and anxiety.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

- i talked to marcus yesterday

- he confirmed what felice said, about rousseau 

Simon glanced up at Sara, eyes widening. In the next table, Wilhelm also looked up surprised. 

They were in the work area before their first class. Wilhelm and Stella were working on their presentation, whilst Henry sat beside Simon and watched him work.

Simon printed Henry’s notes and pointedly told him to ‘read the fucking thing’ instead of looking at them for the first time during the presentation. They had just finished when Sara texted in the group chat.

- whaaaaat? - Rosh replied. 

- wHAT - Ayub texted.

- why were you talking to him? - Simon wrote.

- i ran into him in bjärstad

- he said that A pays him to take care of it. 

- and that i could go see him if i wanted. 

- i won’t but 

- felice was right. he’s paying to keep him here. 

- i don’t know how much it’s costing him

- but it must be a lot

He glanced at Sara again. She and Felice sat together, presumably working, yet barely interacting. Felice looked at Sara, her usual attitude toward her softening. As much as Simon was still apprehensive about Sara’s trustworthiness, he knew that Felice was even more reluctant.

- he also asked about simon - Sara added. 

- of course he did *unamused emoji* - Rosh texted.

- wtf - Ayub said.

- is that the ex? not over simon yet? *raised eyebrow emoji* - Maddie texted.

- MADDIE - Felice wrote.

- i didn’t tell him anything though - Sara clarified. 

- *angry emoji* we will NOT talk about him in this chat or ever again - Simon replied.

- Yes, please, let’s not *melting emoji* - Wilhelm wrote. - Could we meet this weekend and set a plan?

“Simon?”

Simon looked up from his phone, to find the choir leader, Clara, standing by the table. “Maybe I have a short word with you?”

He glanced at Wilhelm, before he stood up and followed her to the music room.

“I have what is hopefully good news,” she started once she had closed the door. “The headmistress has asked me to propose to you to do another song.”

Simon’s face fell.

“I know how you probably feel, after what happened with your song for the jubilee.” She took a deep breath, trying to contain her smile. “But we wondered if you would like to do a version of ‘Den blomstertid nu kommer’, for the graduation and the end of year ceremony.”

Simon’s mouth fell open a little. ‘Den blomstertid nu kommer’ was a traditional end-of-school-year song in Sweden. He expected that the choir would perform it anyway, and that they would start rehearsing soon.

But it hadn’t occurred to him that the choir would have to participate in the graduation ceremony.

“You can of course say no, but,” she leaned toward him, like she was being discreet, “this is another chance for you to do what you do best. I am still so sorry that last time did not… well, I guess I don’t have to tell you about that. But if it had been my decision, I would have absolutely included your solo, and I’m sure everyone would have loved it.”

Simon tried not to think about it, and just nodded politely.

“And perhaps we could include your version of the Hillerska song for the end of year ceremony. I’m sure it will be no problem, since this time it won’t be televised, and we would not require approval from a… third person.” Simon grimaced at her choice of words. “We’d have to check with the headmistress, but I’m sure she’ll agree, she liked it so much. That is, of course, only if you want to.”

Simon bit his lip. To finally perform the song he had written, at his lowest moment, dedicated to Wilhelm… was it too obvious? Would it raise some eyebrows, or would people not bat an eye, since they were official? He also felt it was too intimate now to share with everyone. Although getting to perform it after the RC had cut it might be gratifying.

“I’d like for you to think about it, but I would need an answer by the end of this week,” she said. “I really hope you do. This is a great opportunity for you. You have the talent and creativity, and I would love to be able to showcase that.”

He felt a weird flutter in his stomach. “Yes, I’ll think about it. Thank you, miss.”

She followed him to the door. 

“Please don’t let past bitter events prevent you from shining like you deserve,” she added. He nodded again, and walked out. 

They had to head to class. Wilhelm was waiting for Simon with a curious look.

“I’ll tell you later,” Simon said with a reassuring smile. 

“That’s huge,” Felice whispered excitedly, as Simon told her, Wilhelm and Maddie about the choir leader’s proposal. They were huddled in the back of the classroom. “You should totally do it.”

“I don’t know,” Simon muttered. “I don’t think I’ve fully recovered from the last time that I was asked to do a solo.”

“You mean because the RC smashed your dreams to a pulp, or because your lyrics went right over your boyfriend’s head?” Maddie smirked.

Wilhelm scowled at her. “Thanks, Mads.”

“I mean, I could, I would love to. I just… I hate the idea of performing in the graduation ceremony,” Simon explained.

Felice scoffed. “I don’t love it either, but the choir has to perform.”

“Unless you fake a stomachache that day,” Maddie pointed out. 

“But how satisfying would it be if you totally stole his thunder by doing a really beautiful rendition of the song,” Felice added. “I mean, Wille will probably have to be there already, and you’ll be there too, you two will absolutely be the center of attention.”

“Yeah, because we love that,” Wilhelm groaned sardonically. 

When the class ended, Simon went back to the library to browse through the music section. 

Wilhelm stood by, watching him. “You don’t have to do it if you really don’t want to,” he said. Simon nodded.

“I know. But maybe I try to make the best out of a bad situation,” he replied. “I get to do something that I really love.”

Wilhelm smiled. 

A moment later, Simon carried a huge pile of books to the librarian’s desk, ignoring Wilhelm’s attempt to help him. 

“Excuse me, do you intend to learn musical composition in record time?” Wilhelm asked, as the librarian checked the books. “Not saying that you can’t… I mean, you of all people probably could…”

“No, of course not, but I need inspiration. Also I might as well start learning about it now, since I will need it for uni, right?”

“But when you did your Hillerska song, you just did it. I mean, you know how to play by ear, and you did all the arrangement on your own, without… all this,” Wilhelm gestured to the books. “You might be a genius.”

Simon blushed and shook his head. Sure, he had a really good grasp of music without having learned to read music, and he could hear a melody and play it on piano, and he liked the poetry of songwriting, and he had been like that since he was little and his father taught him how to play, and they listened to all kinds of music, and he was immersed in it all the time. 

It was like it ran through his veins, like that was how his brain was wired. 

That’s how he rewrote the Hillerska song, how he communicated his feelings. Like he knew no other way. And it worked. 

“I still want to learn,” he said.

Wilhelm shrugged. “That’s fair.”

The librarian would not let him check out all the books at once, so he chose some, and stacked them on top of his other books and notebook, and started toward his locker. Wilhelm jogged up beside him.

“Let me help you with that,” he offered. Simon shook his head. 

“I’m fine.”

“Wait, wait,” Wilhelm stopped him by the shoulder.

“What?”

“Your shoelace is undone.”

“Oh.” Simon peered down. “Erm, fine, could you hold this for-”

“Hold on.” Wilhelm crouched down onto one knee and redid the shoelace of Simon’s beat-up left Converse. 

A befuddled Simon looked at the top of Wilhelm’s head, then glanced around. Several people glanced over and watched. 

“Done,” Wilhelm announced, standing up. 

Simon stalked off to his locker. “Thanks,” he mumbled, disconcerted. 

Wilhelm followed him. “You okay?” he asked. 

Simon nodded, but said nothing. He struggled to put his locker key in, then opened the door and shoved most of the books inside, before fishing a couple of them out. 

“What?” Wilhelm repeated, looking concerned. 

Simon closed the locker and gestured for Wilhelm to follow him. He peeked into the music room to make sure that it was empty, then waited for Wilhelm to walk in before pulling the door closed. 

Wilhelm appeared nervous, like he was expecting Simon to snap at him or something. Instead, Simon placed his stuff on the nearest stuff and grabbed Wilhelm by the neck and kissed him. Wilhelm dropped his own books in surprise and grabbed Simon by the waist. Simon only got more riled up at the feeling of Wilhelm’s hands on him, and pressed a bit more against him, hands on his hair, kissing him ardently, until they were both out of breath.  

“Mmmthank you, what was that for?” Wilhelm whispered, chest heaving, hair a mess, a dopey grin on his face. 

Simon pulled back, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

“You can’t just- fucking drop to your fucking knees- in front of fucking everyone- and- and- and tie my fucking shoe,” he said in a hurried whisper, tripping over his own words. He felt like he was short-circuiting.

Wilhelm‘s dopey grin was replaced with wide eyes and a confused frown. “Wait what?” 

“Nope, no, okay? Don’t- don’t do that again. It’s too fucking- nobody has ever done that for me other than my, my family, and that was when I was a kid, and- you’re- a fucking prince, it’s too-”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s- listen, you’re my boyfriend, and I love you, and I appreciate it, but you’re also- like- and- you can’t just kneel-”

“It’s a fucking shoelace…” Wilhelm hissed in disbelief.

“-in front of me like you’re about to- to- to-”

Wilhelm’s disbelief was now replaced with amusement. “Oh, I see… so that’s where your mind went…”

Simon shook his head again, flustered. “No! That’s not what I meant! But… I’m not joking… it’s too…” he growled to himself, like he was trying to get the word out, his face feeling warm, “it’s too hot.”

Wilhelm blinked several times, a tiny smile appearing at the corners of his lips. “It’s hot? That I… tied your shoelace for you?”

Simon growled, trying not to think about it. 

“Is… is it the tying the shoelace part or the kneeling in front of you part?”

“Stop fucking smiling.”

“You’re the one who dragged me in here to eat my face because I tied your shoelace, soooo…”

“I… leave me alone,” Simon said, embarrassed and annoyed. Wilhelm licked his lips.

“I honestly didn’t think it’d be such a turn on.”

“Just don’t do it in front of people,” Simon groaned. Wilhelm smirked, one eyebrow raised. 

“So just… later tonight? In the privacy of our room-”

“Shut. Up.”

“I get it.” Wilhelm leaned in a little closer and his voice was low and raspy. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re all shy and flustered.”

Another growl escaped Simon. He grabbed his stuff and walked to the door, glancing over his shoulder just for a moment as Wilhelm collected himself, fixing his hair and his clothes. Simon could not look at him any longer if he wanted the redness to disappear from his face.

However thrilled and inspired he had felt after that, it vanished during lunch. 

The cacophony in the dining hall died as soon as Vincent banged on the table a few times, stood up and cleared his throat. 

Simon continued to eat. Whatever he was announcing, probably about the upcoming rowing competition, or the graduating class, did not interest him. Wilhelm also seemed distracted.

But Vincent did not look excited. 

“It has been brought to my attention that our newest house member did not pass his initiation.”

Simon swallowed and groaned.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” he muttered under his breath. Beside him, Wilhelm rolled his eyes and shot a look at Lukas and Henry, as if he were sure they were the culprits. 

Not surprisingly, all of the first year boys, except perhaps Alexander, looked guiltily down at the table. 

Vincent slowly paced around the table and continued talking. 

“I was informed that the first years were planning on their own a benign, rather lukewarm hazing ritual, to accommodate Simon’s… sensibilities,” he emphasized the last word, eliciting smiles from some of the older boys, “and yet it was interrupted by a fellow house member. And so the initiation was not completed.”

He continued slowly. “We haven’t had this situation before, not in the long history of Forest Ridge, or any of the houses at Hillerska.” He tapped on the back of Wilhelm’s chair and gestured toward him. “Nobody gets special treatment, not even the crown prince himself, or anyone from the royal family-”

“I’m sorry, are you saying that you consider not wanting to be tortured to be ‘special treatment’?” Simon spoke up, turning his head toward him. 

Vincent ignored him. “I hadn’t wanted to get involved, but I’ve been trying to come up with a way to deal with this, and honestly I’m at a loss.”

He took a couple more steps and stood behind Simon’s chair, both hands on the backrest. 

“What are we going to do about that?” he asked in a condescending tone. 

Simon pushed his chair back a bit, startling Vincent, and turned further in his seat to look at Vincent. “Well, good news, Vincent, you don’t have to do anything about it. There is no house rule that states that I have to be submitted to humiliation and abuse to be able to live here, so… I know you’re very fond of it, but just because you like this particular tradition, doesn’t mean I have to like it too, or go through with it.”

The whole room was silent. Wilhelm stared expectantly between Simon and Vincent. 

Vincent fixed Simon with a snide look. “Traditions do not need to be written in any rule book,” he started, in his usual pompous way of speaking. “Traditions are passed down through time, from generation to generation, by word of mouth. They are supposed to be celebrated and upheld to create and sustain a sense of belonging-”

“Well, if you feel that the only way you can belong is through torture, then by all means. But that’s not my style.”

“-and I don’t think we should welcome someone who makes a mockery of these traditions and of those who uphold them.” Vincent looked around the table. “What do you think?”

“Vincent, would you please stop?” Wilhelm interjected, his tone measured. “He doesn’t have to do it, and he’s not doing it. That’s it.”

“As the prefect of this house, I will make that call.”

With that he started walking around the table again, not as slowly as before.

“But since I’m also all about brotherhood, I would like to hear everyone on this. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to proceed now?” 

He stood on the far end of the table and looked around at all the boys. 

Nobody spoke. 

“Nobody? I’m giving you a chance to exert your power, as member of this house.”

Wilhelm spoke up again. “I have a suggestion, Vincent. Why don’t you just get over yourself-” 

“NOT YOU!” Vincent yelled, banging the end of the table with both hands. The plates and cutlery at the end of the table clattered noisily. Albin, who sat in the corner, flinched visibly. 

“And if I hear another word from you, you’re getting hazed again along with him, because it seems that you’re in desperate need of a reminder of your place in this house, Your Royal Highness,” Vincent added, pointing a finger at Wilhelm’s head. 

Simon spotted the look of disgust on Wilhelm’s face, and immediately put a hand on his leg beneath the table, to calm him. 

“Anyone else?” Vincent asked again, as he walked, hands behind his back. 

If it had occurred to any of the boys to speak up, they were now stunned into silence even more. 

“Seriously? No one?” Vincent stopped, stopping behind Alexander and Lukas. “Well, since nobody has anything to say, then maybe it’s up to me to decide what-”

“I have a suggestion.” 

Simon tensed up at the sound of August’s voice. 

Everyone timidly turned toward the third years’ end of the table, as August stood up slowly. 

“I think we should just put it up to a vote,” he said.

“A vote?” Vincent echoed. August gave a small shrug.

“We’ve heard his reasons, but ultimately we should decide as a house whether those reasons are fair enough or not. Whatever the majority decides, goes. Simple as that.”

There was another tense silence. Vincent seemed to wince in disgust. “Fair enough,” he said, reluctant. 

August smiled smugly.

“Show of hands: should Simon be spared a hazing ritual, and still be allowed to be a part of Forest Ridge?” He looked around. “All in favor?”

Most of them didn’t move at first, until after August himself put his hand up. Then Nils did the same, and then one by one, every other boy followed their lead. Everyone voted in favor. Everyone except Vincent, who merely stared at August. 

Beside Simon, Wilhelm, stony-face, slowly put his hand up too. 

“All against?” August asked.

Everyone slowly put their hands down.

Even Vincent didn’t raise his hand.

August’s smug smile seemed to grow even wider. “There we go. He gets to continue to be a part of this house. But he doesn’t quite belong, does he? Because he hasn’t been through the same experiences as us.” He shook his head. “That’s just how it is. He was given an opportunity, and he decided to pass. But maybe somewhere along the way, he changes his mind. Maybe eventually he learns to be a part of this house, and what that entails.”

Simon did not know what his own face was doing, but he wished very hard that perhaps Vincent would become angry enough that he’d murder August with a fork and spare them any more torment. 

Instead, Vincent looked around calmly, then fixed his gaze on Simon. 

“Well, I’m not entirely happy with this, but I guess the majority have spoken.” He glared at everyone around the table. “This sets a terrible precedent. But I won’t be here anymore, so whatever happens now, that’s for you to deal with.”

He sneered at Simon again. “Simon, perhaps you should thank August.”

It looked like Wilhelm might be the one to commit murder by fork, his jaw clenched so hard that he could hear his teeth grinding. 

Promptly, Simon touched his leg under the table again, and forced himself to smile.

“Yes, perhaps,” he said, his voice as level as he could muster, sustaining August’s gaze. The older boy’s conceited expression did not waver.

Vincent walked back to this seat. “I guess we will abide by the general vote, then.”  He sat back down, and fixed August with a stare. 

Little by little, everyone hesitantly went back to eating and talking, and the usual noise returned to the dining hall. 

Simon looked down at his food. He still had to eat, but felt a little sick now. He chewed on a carrot slowly, and glanced at Wilhelm. 

Wilhelm’s gaze was far away, face still stony. He made no motion to continue eating.  

Simon gave up on eating and gestured to him that they should leave. Wilhelm appeared to snap out of a trance; they stood up and put their dishes away and left the hall. A few of the boys watched them.

Once outside the main building, Simon noticed Wilhelm seemed stunned again. Without caring if anyone saw, he clasped his hand and interlaced their fingers. Wilhelm’s attention snapped to him again, as they walked in silence to the school building. 

Before going inside, Simon turned to him. “You okay?”

Wilhelm couldn’t look at him. His face became red. He swallowed hard. 

“I should have fucking killed him when I had the chance,” he said under his breath. 

Simon squeezed his hand and tried to meet his eyes. “Hey…” 

But Wilhelm still wouldn’t look at him. “My head hurts,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead. 

Simon pulled him toward one of the picnic tables, and sat him down. 

“You barely ate,” he pointed out. Wilhelm finally looked at him, eyes narrowed. 

“You know that’s not why…”

“I know,” Simon sighed. Wilhelm let out a slow breath.

“It’s like he’s… he’s playing mind games with us…” he whispered. “Do you think he… knows? Or… suspects anything?”

One thought crossed Simon’s mind in that instant: that Sara perhaps had betrayed them after all, that she had told August something. That August had manipulated again. He shook his head, as if to clear that thought out.

 “I think he’s… afraid. He’s been acting different, right?” he said instead. “We can’t let him get to us.”

Wilhelm grimaced. Simon was still holding his hand, and he stared at their entwined fingers. 

“Thanks for jumping in, but you don’t always have to come to my defense.” 

Wilhlem blanched. “What? But… but that’s exactly what I didn’t do last week, and you almost got hazed. I wasn’t letting that happen again. I thought… well, I thought you’d be… okay with that.”

“I know, but… I just… I don’t want you to get in trouble for me. Especially not with Vincent. Or for you to have to deal with August.”

“But… I fucking hate it whenever you have to deal with them too.”

“I can handle Vincent, you said so yourself. And I don’t like to see you like this.” Simon sighed. “They will leave soon, and neither of us will have to deal with them anymore.”

As soon as he said it, he realized it wasn’t true; August would still be Wilhelm’s backup. Wilhelm seemed aware of it too, his eyes sad. Simon put an arm around his shoulders, and Wilhelm leaned into him and closed his eyes. 

“I need a coffee,” he mumbled, leaning his head on Simon’s shoulder.

“Maybe you should get a tea.”

“No, I need coffee to think.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I feel nauseated…”

Simon was about to say something else, when he heard voices approaching. 

“Hey,” Felice greeted them, frowning when she saw Wilhelm’s face. “You okay?”

Wilhelm made a face. Maddie sat beside them. 

“What’s wrong? Did you eat something bad?”

“He barely ate,” Simon replied, squeezing Wilhelm by the shoulder, before spotting Fredrika and Stella there too. Wilhelm straightened up, although his hand was still in Simon’s.

“Are you ill?” Felice asked. 

“Maybe,” he shrugged. 

Simon ignored the all too curious smile from Fredrika, and looked at Stella, whose eyes momentarily landed on their joined hands before she chuckled and frowned at Wilhelm.

“You’re not bailing on me, are you?” she asked. Wilhelm shook his head. 

“No, I’ll be okay.” He took a deep breath and stood up, pulling Simon up. 

The girls shuffled into the building ahead of them, Felice throwing a concerned glance over her shoulder, whilst Wilhelm mouthed ‘later’. Simon walked beside him, hands still squeezed together, still on edge. Wilhelm just forced himself to be okay all of a sudden, like he hadn’t frozen earlier, like he hadn’t been on the verge of a panic attack. 

In literature class, everyone sat with their work partners and in the order in which they were presenting. Fredrika and Walter were setting up in the front. Wilhelm and Stella were next, and then Simon and Henry. 

Simon thought he already deserved full marks because of how he had to carry Henry on his back, the other boy looking unconcerned beside him, doodling on the edges of his presentation notes. He also deserved a special reward for not punching Henry, considering that he was likely partially responsible for Vincent’s rant earlier. Even though as soon as he arrived, Henry told him that it had been Lukas and Evan. 

Diagonal to him, he could see Wilhelm was tense. Stella whispered something to him, and Simon couldn’t hear Wilhelm’s response, but whatever it was, it made Stella give him a playful shove, and Wilhelm chuckled.  

Simon relaxed a little, and he couldn’t help but smile too. Stella had been acting so oddly lately, but after one conversation with Wilhelm, she seemed different, even a bit more carefree. Not that he cared much for Stella, she was a gossip and a snob and she constantly looked down at him, much like everyone else in that school. But even she didn’t deserve to feel like she had to hide a part of herself.

Wilhelm still looked a bit ill when it was their turn, as he stood up to go to the front and set up. But then he started speaking, and his voice was steady and he did it with no problem. 

It reminded Simon of the jubilee, which felt like it happened ages ago, but it hadn’t even been a month. That day, looking momentarily like he might be sick or faint, Wilhelm had managed to walk up to a podium, in front of a crowd, and done the craziest and bravest thing ever. 

It was brave, but it was also unfair.

Simon had the dopiest smile as he watched Wilhelm, even when he finished his part and stood by as Stella talked, and they did the closing remarks together. The teacher and the class clapped; Wilhelm held a hand up, and Stella high-fived him with a broad smile. Simon chuckled. 

Then it was his and Henry’s turn. Wilhelm watched him stand up and gave him an encouraging smile. He looked restored. Simon tried to keep his focus on Wilhelm as he did his part of the presentation, pretending that he was the only person in the audience. 

“Fuck, man, that’s crazy,” Ayub said later that afternoon. “What an asshole…”

Simon lay in bed in his room, talking on video call with Ayub. After fencing practice, Wilhelm was still mumbling about a headache, yet refused to go to the infirmary despite Simon’s insistence, but he promised to get some rest. 

He and Wilhelm had already told Felice and Maddie about the incident at lunch, but avoided writing about it in the group chat. By the look on Felice’s face, she also suspected whether August’s attitude might have anything to do with Sara. Simon called Ayub to tell him about it too, and to vent; he entrusted him with filling Rosh in after her football practice. 

“Yeah,” Simon said, rubbing his forehead.  

“Is Wille okay? Are you okay?” 

“I guess… Wille was really upset… And now we have to go to dinner in a bit…”

“And do you think that… maybe it means that Sara…”

“I don’t know…” Simon sighed. He hoped it didn’t mean that at all. 

Ayub scoffed in disbelief. “And now Marcus is working for August… like, confirmed…”

Simon grimaced. “Ugh, no, I don’t know if I want to talk about that.”

“About Marcus? Or August?”

“Both. Did I tell you what Marcus said to me?”

“No, but… Rosh told me,” Ayub replied sheepishly. 

“That’s okay, I figured she would.” He sighed. “I mean, I know that maybe I led him on, although I told him that I wasn’t ready for anything. But… it was like he… I didn’t realize at the time how… manipulative it was, that he said all those things, that he talked about my dad… I hadn’t even talked about that with him at all, and he just… ugh.” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, he’s toxic.”

Simon let out a little chuckle. A while back, Ayub had said the exact same thing about Wilhelm. 

“Did I tell you about what he said to Wille?”

“What? They talked?”

“Not really, but…” 

He told him about Wilhelm’s run in with Marcus in the shop, the things he said to him, and how it made him feel. 

Ayub rolled his eyes. “Yeesh… what an absolute asshole.”

“I know. Let’s just not talk about him ever again. We haven’t chatted in a bit, and I don’t want to just vent to you about all the shitty stuff…”

He told Ayub about the choir leader’s request.

“That’s great, that’s exciting!” Ayub exclaimed. “You’re gonna do it?”

Simon sat up in bed and sighed. “I haven’t completely decided yet. I don’t know what I would do if they block it or something again…”

“By them, you mean the RC, right? I mean… do they have a say in it this time?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they have a say in everything, especially if it involves me,” Simon replied bitterly.

“But you’re the crown prince’s boyfriend now.”

Simon made a face. “So? I don’t get any special treatment, and I don’t want it. I want them to let me sing because I deserve it. I want them to fucking stop trying to ruin everything I do.”

“Don’t be so negative. Just do your thing, don’t let the RC get you down,” Ayub said. “Can we come and watch?”

Simon smiled curiously. “Um, sure. You guys want to?”

“Sure! I’ve never seen you perform.”

“Nah, wait, you just want to come because Felice is in the choir…”

“Oooooh, that’s right, I forgot that…” Ayub feigned surprise, making Simon snort.

“Bullshit, I saw that you follow her on Insta now, so you know that she’s in the choir with me.”

Ayub chuckled. “Yeah, I did. But that’s really not the only reason. I want to hear you sing. I haven’t seen it yet, because it all happens in the fancy school.” 

“But…” Simon laughed bashfully, “it’s an end-of-year ceremony. It’ll be boring.”

“No, it won’t. You’ll be great. I bet you’ll be the highlight.”

Simon cocked an eyebrow. “You really want to come? Not just to hang out with Felice and Maddie?”

“Yes I do. You’re my friend, I want to support you. Just like when we go to Rosh’s games.”

A pang of guilt and shame smacked him, and his face fell. 

The game. Rosh’s team was playing that weekend. She had told Simon about it a while back, and even begrudgingly invited Wilhelm. 

“Oh… yeah… I might not be able to go to the game this weekend…” he muttered. 

Ayub looked dismayed. “Nooo, why? Is it because of the RC? Because of the email?”

“Yeah… I mean, Wille definitely can’t go, and I’m not just going without him. He’ll feel awful.”

“I get it. But… Wille’s been to a game before. And you posted it on Insta stories.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t the crown prince back then. Now it’s like… everyone will zero in on him and us. It’s too risky.”

“I get it. I’m sorry that everything is such a pain, man.”

“Thanks,” Simon said bitterly. “I hope it gets better, but right now I don’t want to fuck anything up, not when things could go really wrong. So… no more unauthorized outings for us in the meantime…” 

“I’m sure Rosh will understand,” Ayub said. 

“Yeah…” Simon muttered, feeling sad.

They hung up shortly after. Simon dreaded going down to dinner and sitting with everyone and acting like he didn’t hate everyone’s guts. But he mostly dreaded seeing Wilhelm in that situation too.

He crossed the hallway and stood at Wilhelm’s door, and heard someone speaking inside. He knocked lightly.

“Uh, yeah, come in,” Wilhelm’s startled voice said.

Simon found him sat in bed, back against the wall, with his journal beside him, going through his phone.

“Thought you were napping. But then I heard voices. Were you on the phone? Did I interrupt?” Simon asked.

“No, no, I was, um… just talking to myself,” Wilhelm said, his cheeks turning pink. Simon nodded, smiling. He sat by him.

“Hmm, what do you talk to yourself about?” 

Still pink, Wilhelm shrugged. “Sometimes I… go over things, out loud… before I write them down…” He pointed at his journal. 

“Oh I see.”

Wilhelm seemed pensive for a moment, before he slid to the edge of the mattress and pulled on his shoes. He stood up and took a deep breath. 

“Let’s go,” he held out a hand to Simon, pulling him into a brief hug and pecking his temple, before they left the room.

The next day, he arrived early to choir practice and told Clara he’d do the song, on the condition that they also did his version of the Hillerska song for the end of year ceremony. The choir leader beamed at him and said she’d tell Anette. Then he told Felice when she arrived. 

“I’m so glad you’re doing it,” she smiled at him. “It’ll be great, I can feel it.”

He nodded, staring at the cover of the book on classical hymns he had been carrying around. 

“Is everything okay?” Felice asked, sitting beside him. 

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I’m just… worried about Wille.”

“Because of what happened at lunch yesterday?”

“Yeah… did he tell you more about that?”

Felice raised her eyebrows. “Funnily enough, he told me that he didn’t want you to worry.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Of course he did.”

“I get it… You’re both going through stuff. And he doesn’t want to dump more stuff on you. That’s what venting to a friend is for, right?”

Simon looked at her with curiousity. “Does he vent to you about everything?”

“Probably not. Maybe before you guys got back together, sure. But I bet there’s stuff he only talks about with you.” She shrugged. “But sometimes it’s helpful to talk to someone else too. Not just to a counselor, but also a friend who can offer a different perspective, perhaps. I mean, you talk to Ayub and Rosh, don’t you?”

“Sure.” Simon smirked and threw her a knowing look. “I know someone else who’s been talking a lot to Ayub…”

Felice visibly blushed. “Um… okay, whatever…” When he was still smirking at her, she gave a little flustered laugh. “Well… he’s nice. And funny. And… rather sweet.”

“I know, that’s why we’re friends. And I already teased him about it.”

Felice let out a laugh. “Oh I see, so now you’re gonna tease me? Have you also been teasing both Maddie and Rosh for texting each other?”

Simon’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, what?”

“Mmmm, do I know something that you don’t?” Felice said with a knowing smile. Simon laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, and made a mental note to ask Rosh about it later.

He suddenly remembered Wilhelm and his journal last night, talking to himself, trying to empty out the thoughts in his head. Wilhelm had not gone back to Boris yet, not since the incident on Friday. Neither had Simon. 

“I’m glad Wille can talk to you,” he said, lowering his voice as a couple of fellow choir members filed in. 

He thought of Sara, of how she and Felice had been that for each other, until recently; but he also thought of Stella, and wondered if perhaps the reason she had talked to Wilhelm about something so personal was because she didn’t know if she could talk about it with her friends. 

And he thought about his own friends, too, with whom he shared everything; they had always been the two people with whom he could talk about anything, and they supported each other, but also trusted each other to be honest no matter what.

And he wondered if Wilhelm had anyone like that, before Felice. If he had only had Erik.

“Sometimes… it’s like he doesn’t know how to get out of his own head,” he mused. “I try to help him, and I bet going to Boris has helped him too, but… it takes time, I guess, and things just keep happening. And it makes it harder.”

Felice sighed. “Yeah…”

“Sometimes it feels like he tries really hard to control his emotions, but when we’re alone… he crumbles.” 

He smiled and looked down at his hands, feeling self-conscious. “We’ve been learning to talk and confide in each other, and he’s… very honest now… So sincere. He’s also very affectionate… I love seeing that side of him, that no one else gets to see.” He licked his lips. “But sometimes… I don’t know… I guess I’m not used to it, but it’s… a little overwhelming.”

Felice rolled her eyes. “Oh, you poor baby,” she started in a mock sympathetic voice, “how awful for you to have to deal with a doting, loving, communicative, honest boyfriend. Whatever will you do…”

He snickered and hid his face behind his hands. “Okay, fine, I get it.”

“I guess he’s always been like that, more intense. But being a royal, and even more now as crown prince, he doesn’t get to be so much. Like, did you know that the anniversary of his grandfather is coming up? The king died around Easter, when Wille was five years old.”

Simon nodded. Of course he didn’t remember that, he was also five at the time. But more importantly, Wilhelm hadn’t mentioned it, even as they talked about Easter recently.

“I remember not seeing Wille for about two weeks afterwards,” she continued. “I’ve seen clips of the funeral on YouTube. People were crying, watching the procession, paying their respects. The royal family, however, they were mournful, but restrained. Meanwhile, Wille was properly crying, in front of everyone, in front of the cameras. He was a little kid, he couldn’t help it.”

Simon felt horrified. “Shit. Are they, like, not allowed to cry or something?”

Felice shook her head. “It’s not that it’s not allowed, but like, they’re expected to be composed. For the public. But Wille… ugh, it was hard to watch. You know, it was the king, but it was also his grandad…”

Simon nodded slowly. “He didn’t cry during his brother’s funeral.”

“I know. I think he was in shock, maybe.”

“Yeah…”

A very vivid memory from Friday night flashed before his eye; the look of Wilhelm’s face as the boys tried to wrangle Simon out of his room, before putting a sack over his head. It was the same look that he had the day before, at lunch, after August led the voting. The same look he had in the broadcast of Erik’s funeral, and when Wilhelm came back to Hillerska afterwards. 

“Has he… ever talked about Erik with you?” he asked. It felt weird to even say his name. 

Felice frowned, confused. “No, he hasn’t,” she answered. “You?”

Simon shook his head slowly. “Not really…”

 Simon stayed in the music room after choir practice, plucking away at the piano, hoping for ideas for something more melodic and evocative than the original hymn. He had been browsing through the books he checked out, but eventually gave up and just sat at the piano, riffing. 

Maybe Wilhelm was right, maybe he didn’t need to learn anything from books at the moment, maybe he just needed to do things the way he usually did. After all, the choir leader had selected him for a reason. 

After about half an hour, he stood up and stretched, and walked out. There were a few people in the area. Simon went past the rows of lockers to the water fountain for a drink. 

A door opened, and two familiar voices caught his attention. 

He looked down the hallway toward Boris’s office. 

Sara was stepping out of the office. 

Their eyes met. She seemed a bit flustered, and she pointed at her phone before walking off and out of the building. Simon watched her go and then went back to the music room. 

Sara had followed his advice. 

He sat back down at the piano and stared down at the keys for what felt like a long time, when his phone vibrated. It was the group chat.

- i was in the counselor’s office today - Sara wrote, - and i was able to see his agenda

- like wille and simon said, A has been coming to see him too

- on tuesdays and thursdays, around this time

- but all his appointments are scratched out now

- like they’ve been cancelled

- you saw all that????? - Maddie texted. - shit, sara, are you actually a spy???? do you work for SÄPO or something???

- interesting. could be because of the extra training the rowing team is doing - Felice wrote. - or the parents weekend planning.

- someone like him should not be cancelling therapy, he needs all the help he can get - Rosh pointed out.

- obvs - Ayub said. - why did he book them in the first place?

- I think maybe the RC is making him go - Wilhelm pointed out. - Boris probably has to report to them that he’s going to the appointments.

- what makes you think that? - Rosh asked.

- Because that’s how I got started with Boris - Wilhelm answered. - They made me go too. Wouldn’t be surprised if they made him too.

- but if the RC is making him, then how can he just cancel? - Maddie asked. 

- because he thinks he can get away with anything - Simon wrote, pocketing his phone. He tried to go back to playing, but after a moment, he couldn’t think of anything else. He grabbed his stuff and went to find Wilhelm.  

That night, he and Wilhelm snuck out to go to Felice’s and Maddie’s room again, to watch movies and escape Forest Ridge. 

Simon hoped it would help them unwind, except that Maddie made them watch the Japanese horror movie ‘Ringu’, and Simon found himself jumping and looking away and covering his eyes a lot. But with every jumpscare, Wilhelm squeezed closer and closer to him, wrapped around him like a vine, burying his face in Simon’s neck and chest. They both laughed nervously whenever something terrifying was obviously about to happen on screen, Simon wrapping his arms protectively around his back. It was a stark contrast from that movie night when all they could do was hold pinkies. 

“I will never sleep again,” Simon announced when the movie ended.

“Thanks for the trauma, Maddie,” Felice said. 

Maddie offered to ‘erase the horrors from their minds before bed’, and put on 1995’s ‘Casper’, which Felice called one of her favourite movies of all time.

“Oh this is the one that you called your sexual awakening, right?” Maddie asked.

“Maddie! Why the fuck would you announce that?” Felice groaned.

“Come on, like it’s not going to become very obvious by the end,” Maddie pointed out with a sympathetic smile. 

Neither Wilhelm nor Simon had seen it; it was a cute, fun, harmless movie about a haunted mansion with very funny ghosts, and a young girl and her father moved into the mansion to try to get rid of them, but instead ended up befriending them. 

Nearing the end, there was a Halloween party going in mansion, and everyone was on the dance floor, and then a slow song started playing. The young girl, Kat, had no dance partner, so she sat on the sidelines, until a cute boy with floppy blond hair wearing a white shirt came down the long staircase and approached her and held out his hand, inviting her to dance. Kat looked curiously at him but accepted and they went into the crowd, swaying to the music. The camera turned and finally the cute boy’s face was revealed. 

Simon and Wilhelm side-eyed each other, trying not to smile, as Kat held tightly to the boy when she noticed they were floating above the floor. 

“I told you I was a good dancer,” whispered human Casper. “Can I keep you?”

That was a cute line that Casper had already said halfway through the movie, when it became obvious that he had a crush on Kat. Kat realized who he was and hugged him, overcome with emotion, and everyone stood back and watched them dance. Then the clock stroke ten, and Casper and Kat kissed, but just as they were kissing he transformed back into his ghost form and all the kids at the party got spooked and ran out of the mansion. Then there was a musical ending as the credits rolled. 

“I have to ask,” Simon started, with an amused smile, as the music played in the background.

“Please don’t,” Felice said, her face red. Maddie looked just as amused as Simon, whilst Wilhelm was trying not to laugh.

“Oh but I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” Felice repeated, sounding mortified.

“But the curiosity will eat me up,” he said, turning his body toward her. “I’m just wondering if by any chance, your appreciation of this movie, and the fact that you called it, and I quote Maddie on this, ‘your sexual awakening’, have anything to do with the fact that the actor who plays human Casper… looks exactly like Wille?”

Wilhelm was not even making any noise now, shaking with silent laughter. Maddie leaned toward Felice expectantly. Felice glared at Simon and Maddie, becoming redder by the second.

“He does not look exactly like,” she mumbled.

“Well, Wille when he was twelve or thirteen, I guess.”

Felice rubbed her face in frustration. “It might have been the other way around…”

“Oh, so you watched ‘Casper’ and then you saw Wille and thought ‘he looks just like human Casper, I like that’?” Simon asked.

“Is that why you fancied him? You thought he looked like a friendly ghost?” Maddie asked. 

Felice buried her face into the pillow. “Guys, shut up!” she groaned into it, her voice muffled.

“Is it the blond hair, the height…? That would explain why you had major crushes on both Isak and Even from ‘Skam’,” Maddie said.

“Maddie, I will smother you to death in your sleep tonight, you have been warned,” Felice growled. 

“To be fair, we all had crushes on Isak and Even,” Simon stated with a little shrug.

“Just a friendly advice: don’t ever watch ‘Dead Poet’s Society’, you will explode,” Maddie added. Felice flopped back onto the pillow. 

“You absolute fucking…”

Beside Simon, Wilhelm had rolled into a shaking ball of laughter. 

Thursday and Friday felt unending. 

It wasn’t aided by the fact that, whenever he wasn’t being unbearable and shouting unintelligibly at the rowing team in the gym, Vincent was being unbearable and shouting at everyone in Forest Ridge. And despite the clear animosity between them, he and August had apparently teamed up to keep everyone in line, in anticipation for the Parents Weekend event. 

So whenever they weren’t holed up in each other’s rooms, either studying or just hanging out, Simon and Wilhelm would escape to Felice and Maddie’s room to watch movies or just hang out. 

On Friday afternoon, before fencing, Simon was in the music room again. But it was difficult to concentrate; even with the door closed, he could still hear Vincent shouting from the gym. 

He put on his headphones instead, and looked up ‘Den blommstertid nu kommer’ on YouTube on his phone, hoping to find different versions to take inspiration from. After searching for a bit and finding nothing, he gave up.

He looked up ‘King Gustaf Sweden funeral’.

The first two options were a broadcast summary of the church service and the procession afterwards, and a report on the king’s life and death. The third option was a compilation of shots from the funeral procession around the streets of Stockholm. 

He clicked on it.

He skipped through overhead shots and footage of the crowds gathered on the sidewalks, until the cameras focused on the funeral procession, the people walking behind the coffin. He recognized a younger queen Kristina—although she hadn’t been crowned yet—, decked in black and a black veil over her face, much like she had looked at Erik’s funeral. Prince Erik, now the crown prince, in a black suit, head bowed, held his mother’s hand; he must have been eight or nine years old. 

And behind them, Prince Ludvig in military uniform walked with a tiny, five-year-old Wilhelm in his tiny black suit. The little floppy blond-haired boy held onto his father’s hand, whilst he rubbed his tearful eyes with his other. He looked like he was painstakingly trying to contain his tears, bottom lip quivering. The camera cut back to him every few minutes; it was a long procession, and Prince Ludvig picked him up eventually, Wilhelm laying his head on his dad’s shoulder, looking worn, still sniffling and hiccuping. 

Simon realized that he had teared up. He closed the app and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

All of his grandparents had died before he was born. Simon couldn’t imagine having to mourn them, or anyone, on live television. 

Even if they had only known each other for a short time back then, watching Wilhelm walk behind his brother’s coffin on national broadcast was one of the most heartrending things he had ever witnessed.

Wilhelm hadn’t talked to him about it yet. 

When Saturday finally arrived, Simon didn’t mind having to wake up at five in the morning. He just wanted to go home, and he really wanted to get out of Forest Ridge before the Parents Weekend fuss began.

Later that morning, whilst Wilhelm was taking a shower, Simon worked on the song. He had his keyboard on the bed, and he was playing a disjointed little melody, when he spotted Sara through the open door. She was looking for something in the laundry room. After a moment, she looked up at him, and seemed to think about it before she came over to stand in the doorway.

“Hey,” she asked hesitantly. 

“Hey,” he responded.

“What are you… playing?”

“Um…” he suddenly realized he hadn’t told Sara about the song. “The choir leader asked me to do a new arrangement for the end-of-year ceremony, and possibly the graduation.”

Sara’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s great. Have you told mum?”

“No… not after what happened at the jubilee… I think I’d rather keep it a surprise, at least for now.”

Sara nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay.”  

He took a deep breath. “How did it go… with Boris?”

Sara looked down at the floor. “Um… good, I think. I mean, it was only the first session… I’m probably going back next week.”

“I’m glad.” He cleared his throat. “By the way, thanks for trying to find out what August is up to.”

She looked disappointed. “I didn’t actually find out…”

“We do know where he won’t be, though. And how did you manage to look at Boris’s agenda?”

“I asked him when he could squeeze me in, and as he was looking through it, I… discreetly peeked.” 

“You are a spy,” he muttered with a surprised look.

She fidgeted a bit, before speaking again. “August, he’s… usually pretty… structured, you know? Everything he does is, like, part of a routine. But Wilhelm is right; he hasn’t been behaving normally.” She sighed. “It makes me nervous. The whole thing with Rousseau is just… so strange.”

“I know…”

She took a deep breath. “I really didn’t know. About Rousseau being in the stables, until Felice said it,” she started. “When Marcus brought it up, I pretended that I didn’t know. I didn’t expect him to tell me either… like, maybe he wasn’t supposed to tell me, or Felice. But he did. I guess he doesn’t know the full story…”

Simon shook his head. “Well, at least now we know for sure.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway…” she said quietly.

“It actually matters a lot. But don’t worry, we’ll talk about that when we meet.”

“Okay,” she said, before turning to leave. 

Simon stared after her, and felt relieved again. 

He started playing again, when Wilhelm came back into the room, towelling his hair. He sat on the bed beside Simon, one leg curled underneath him, and leaned over and kissed his cheek. Simon smirked and kept playing. 

“That sounds nice,” Wilhelm said, but Simon shook his head.

“It’s just the regular melody, I haven’t come up with anything solidly different.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there and blow us all away. And people will still finally get to hear your love song to me and be blown away again,” Wilhelm winked at him. “Although I imagine you’ll change the lyrics a bit, because that whole ‘going our separate ways’ part no longer fits, it would not bode well.”

Simon snickered. “I will,” he said. “Ayub said he and Rosh want to come to the ceremony to watch me sing.”

“That’d be nice. Oh, that reminds me! I wanted to show you something,” Wilhelm rummaged through his bag and pulled out two items. “Check… me… out,” he said, putting on a pair of dark-rimmed glasses, and a bright yellow baseball cap with SWE on the front and the Swedish flag on the side.

“It’s so we can be low-profile and go to the game tonight. We’ll have to get you one too.”

Simon tried to keep a straight face. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘low-profile’ like Superman glasses and a bright yellow cap.”

Wilhelm pouted. “Well, it’s the only one I had…” 

Simon sighed. “Wille… this isn’t a good idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I love that you came up with a costume and everything… but I don’t think we should do anything that might get us in trouble. I’d rather behave well, at least until we’ve resolved everything. Or even if we have to keep behaving. As long as you don’t get punished.”

Wilhelm looked sad. “But… I told her we’d come, I promised I’d get a costume…”

Simon gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s okay. There will be other games. Rosh knows.”

Wilhelm fell silent, and slowly took off the cap. Simon tousled his hair and smiled at him.

“You… you look really good in glasses… maybe we keep those,” he said, blushing a bit. Wilhelm went pink too.

“Oh, these are mine, they’re for screens, but I forget to wear them.”

“Well, maybe you should, you need to protect your eyes,” Simon said. 

“Okay. These also help me see better when I, um… tie your shoelaces.” He winked, and Simon blusher even more. 

With a sigh, Wilhelm tossed the caps back in the bag.

“You okay?” Simon asked softly, touching his arm. Wilhelm nodded, though he looked anything but. He looked sad. Simon reached out to push the hair out of his forehead, and Wilhelm forced a smile. 

“I will be.”

Simon sighed. “Maybe we can get Ayub to livestream the game from his phone.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Wilhelm said quickly. He cleared his throat and stood up, grabbing his towel. “I’ll be right back,” he announced, and walked out and went into the bathroom again. But he didn’t come back right away.

Simon watched him go. He felt just as sad, disappointed, and helpless. Of course he wanted to go to the game, he had been looking forward to it. But they had more important things in their minds. 

He wasn’t about to do anything to fuck it up.

On Sunday morning, he woke up when the sun was already up. He was alone. 

Simon rolled over on the bed and sighed. He could hear noise from the kitchen as Linda made breakfast. It smelled good.

He fell asleep again, and only woke up when he felt a shift on the bed. 

“Good morning,” he heard Wilhelm whisper. Simon rolled over slowly and rubbed his eyes. 

“Hey…” he said, and blinked in surprise. Wilhelm had a tray of food on his lap.

“Did you bring me breakfast?”

Wilhelm shrugged. “Well, you were never getting out of bed, apparently, so…”

Simon slowly sat up, smiling at the tray with a plate of egg and two cheese-stuffed arepas and a glass of juice. 

“It’s not my birthday.”

“I know.” Wilhelm smiled. “But it’s still, um, kind of a special day.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it’s um… it’s sort of… our… one month anniversary. Our… monthiversary…? Whatever it’s called…”

Simon chuckled in surprise. “Is it? Wait, no, that would be from the day you asked me… if you could be my boyfriend.” He blushed at the memory. Wilhelm nodded. 

“Yeah, that’s on Tuesday, and I won’t be able to… prepare you breakfast and stuff…”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Wait… you made this?”

“Yes,” Wilhelm said proudly.

“No, you didn’t…”

“Yes, I did!”

“With my mum’s help, right?”

“Okay, yeah, but let me be perfectly clear: I made it. She gave the instructions and supervised, but I mixed the dough, and balled it and  shaped each arepa, and cooked them and baked them and I nailed the browning. Look at this!”

Simon touched one of the warm arepas. The shape wasn’t perfect, and one of them had torn when it was cut open, but it was the perfect color. “You did. That’s why I can’t believe it. Even I can’t get the browning right.”

“Maybe I have a gift,” Wilhelm said, holding the tray out to Simon. Simon put it on his lap and inhaled. It smelled so good. 

“And so what is the one month-aversary of today, then?” he asked, resisting the urge to start eating. 

Wilhelm licked his lips. “It’s of… just before the jubilee… when… you told me you love me. And then I… told the world that I love you. Not in those words, though, but…”

“Oh…” That was a horrid day, and those two things weren’t usually the first that came to mind from it. His mind immediately regressed to the awful moment when Wilhelm left to Stockholm. 

Wilhelm seemed to detect that. “I know a lot of shit happened, but that was… that’s the one thing that I’m keeping from that day. Forever.”

Simon smiled, and leaned in to kiss him. They got a bit carried away, nearly tipping the glass of juice. 

“Eat, before it gets cold,” Wilhelm whispered, reluctantly extricating his lips from Simon’s. Simon smiled and picked up an arepa and took a bite. It burned his mouth, but it was worth it.

“Thank you. I’ve never celebrated a one-month-versary before, let alone an anniversary…” he said after a moment. Wilhelm nodded, sitting beside him. 

“Maybe next year we’ll be able to celebrate properly.”

Simon nodded. “That’s the spirit.”

Rosh and Ayub arrive sometime before lunch.

“Congratulations on the win… Sorry we couldn’t come…” Wilhelm said glumly, hugging Rosh. She patted him on the back.

“That’s okay. Maybe we won precisely because you didn’t come,” she teased. Simon smacked her shoulder, and she smacked him back. “I’m not saying that he’s bad luck! I meant because our goalie is kind of obsessed with you two. You being there would have thrown her off.”

Simon called Sara over, and they closed the door to Simon’s room and started a videocall with Felice. 

“Uh, why didn’t you invite us to the game?” Maddie demanded before anyone had a chance to say hi, holding her phone up to the camera to show a story from Ayub’s Instagram account. “We’ve been holed up in our rooms since yesterday because of Parents Weekend. We could have used an outing!” 

“Next time, promise,” Rosh said, before Simon told them to stop flirting and asked everyone to focus.

“Are you all sure that you want to do this?” Wilhelm asked. “This is your last chance to back out.”

They all muttered ‘ no way, let’s do this’, Simon turned to Sara. “I’m in,” she said in a small voice, but nodded firmly. 

Wilhelm smiled at all of them. 

They decided on Tuesday: the rowing team were having extra long training sessions the entire week, basically from the end of class until dinner, and on Tuesdays it coincided with everyone else’s activities. The house would be mostly empty all afternoon. 

After school, Ayub and Rosh would head to Hillerska to meet up with Simon. Sara would stay after school; Felice and Maddie would come over. Wilhelm and Simon would skip fencing that day. 

Felice would stay with Rosh and Ayub outside of Forest Ridge, to keep an eye out for anyone, and create a diversion if necessary. Maddie would come up to the third floor with Wille, Simon and Sara, and be the watch guard on the third floor stairs. 

Wille, Simon and Sara would go into August’s room, look through it as fast as possible, leaving everything exactly where they found it. Once they found the bottle, they’d go back out and head out to the lake to hang out. Rosh and Ayub would take the bottle with them and dispose of it, and burn the prescription tag. Sara would take the bus home. 

By the time August found out, it would be too late. The evidence would have been torched. 

They would keep a group chat call open and use their ear phones, to use like radio transmitters and alert each other if someone was coming. 

“What if August shows up?” Sara asked.

“He won’t. But even if he does, we’ll be long gone,” Wilhelm said. 

“This is such a heist,” Ayub nodded and grinned.

“And are you sure you don’t want to report him?” Rosh asked. Simon threw her a look. 

“Believe me, I do want to,” Wilhelm replied with a resigned sigh. “But I’m willing to make a sacrifice.”

They stopped by the shops on the way back to Hillerska. Wilhelm had done some online snack shopping, and Joakim picked up the order. 

When they arrived back at Forest Ridge, at least everything seemed quiet. Apparently the third years were having another palatset party, to conclude Parents Weekend. 

“I feel exhausted,” Wilhelm said as soon as they were in his room. 

“Same,” Simon said, plopping down onto the bed and stretching like a starfish. Wilhelm placed his bag on the spare bed and unzipped it and started taking things out. 

“Are you not going to unpack?” he asked, glancing at Simon. Simon nodded, but then closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing.

“In a minute…”

“Oh, shit, I forgot the snacks in the car…” Wilhelm grumbled. “I’ll be right back.”

Simon opened his eyes in time to see Wilhelm shoving his shoes on quickly and walking to the door.

A minute passed when Simon rolled out of bed. He picked up his bag and swung it onto the spare bed, and accidentally knocked Wilhelm’s bag to the floor. Something fell out of it and skittered across the floor and under the desk. 

He groaned and went to pick it up. It was the cigarette case.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath and examined it. It seemed undamaged. He picked up the bag and put the case in it. He had no idea that Wilhelm carried it around with him. 

When he picked up the bag, some clothes had also spilled out. He picked them up.

Underneath them, the journal had fallen open, face-down. 

“Shit…”

He picked it up carefully and turned it over. It had fallen open on the first page, and the page got folded. He went to flatten the crease; his pesky wandering eyes focused on the words on the page, drawn to his own name written in Wilhelm’s neat handwriting. His face fell. 

Simon probably wishes he had never met me. His life would probably be easier if he—

Simon looked away. He wished he hadn’t read that.

Why would Wilhelm write that?

As he tried to flatten and un-wrinkle the page with his arm, his eyes landed on another line. 

I doubt he loves me as much as I love him, though, but that’s okay.

Simon blinked, and read it again.

He shook his head. 

Those words, they were not true. He shook his head again, as if somehow that would make the words change, disappear or something. 

His throat felt tight all of a sudden. 

It seemed that Wille wrote that a while back, perhaps when he was in the palace, when he had only started journaling. Back when they were just starting again. 

But what if he still thought that?

Did Simon not show him enough, how much he loved him? 

He thought back to the conversation with Felice. About Wilhelm being emotional and earnest, despite his upbringing. About it being overwhelming. 

Wilhelm himself had admitted to being shit at talking about his feelings, but Simon knew that wasn’t true anymore. 

In fact, Wilhelm had never had any trouble showing Simon how much he loved him, not since they got back together. 

The problem wasn’t that Wilhelm bombarded Simon with affection, or whether it was overwhelming. It was that Simon was too guarded. 

Because Simon was often emotional and intense in public, but the opposite in intimacy. 

He didn’t know what he was doing. He had never been in love before, never been in a relationship before. He had been heartbroken, though, and it was just easier to be extra guarded about his feelings. So now he was still learning to let those walls down.

But he was still easily irritated, he was too quick to shut out anything unpleasant.

But Simon loved Wilhelm, like he never could have imagined to love someone. Hell, he wrote him a song and everything… He kept his sweater and slept with it and smelled it all the time because of how much he missed him. 

Maybe he shouldn’t think too much about it, maybe it was-

The door opened, and Simon shoved the journal back in the bag and stood up.

“Hey, do you want to watch something later?” Wilhelm asked, placing the snacks bag on the desk. “Simon? What happened?”

Simon turned around,  and realized that he had tears in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Wilhelm searched his face, his voice and face concerned. Simon felt his heart sink even further. 

“Uh nothing,” he replied quickly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. “I was, um, looking for the scissors and caught my finger in the drawer like an idiot, and my eyes watered,” he lied. “But it’s fine, look,” he added, holding up his right index to show that it was intact.

“No! Your piano-playing hand!” Wilhelm took the hand that Simon pretended to get hurt, and examined the finger.

“Don’t be dramatic, it wasn’t that bad,” he laughed, but his voice had grown thick. 

Wilhelm pouted and sat down on the edge of Simon’s bed, petting Simon’s hand. ”Would you like me to kiss it and make it better?” he teased, looking up at him with big, warm brown eyes. Simon laughed, but his smile promptly faded. 

He retrieved his hand and sat down on Wilhelm’s lap, cupped his face gently and kissed him, slow and soft, breathing him in, feeling Wilhelm’s breath hitch a little. He felt Wilhelm’s hands on his waist, and Simon slid his own hands down his shoulders and wrapped around his back, pulling him closer, tightly but tenderly, like he would never let go. Simon pouring every bit of his devotion into the kiss, hoping that Wilhelm would feel it, feel how much he adored him, how much he ached for him. 

He finally pulled back, breathless and relaxed. He opened his eyes, and found that Wilhelm’s eyes were still blissfully closed. 

“Um,” Wilhelm started, eyes fluttering open. He cleared his throat. “Thank you. What was that for?”

“Why do you always ask that?” Simon muttered, chuckling. “I just wanted to kiss you. I just… I love you so much.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been one month since I told you that I loved you for the first time, and I want to keep saying that, but… sometimes actions speak louder than words. Right?”

Wilhelm nodded and smiled. 

Simon wrapped his arms around Wilhelm again, nuzzling his neck, rubbing his face against Wilhelm’s like a cat. Wilhelm laughed lightly, either from the gesture or because it made him ticklish.

“Hey, we have to unpack…” Wilhelm whispered. 

“Mnooo, we have to cuddle…”

“Okay, fine…”

Wilhelm kicked his shoes off and they crawled into bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms, legs tangling, noses touching. Wilhelm kissed the ‘hurt’ finger, making Simon laugh.

Whatever had made Wilhelm write that in his journal, Simon would make sure that Wilhelm never felt like that again. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. Wilhelm smiled with his eyes closed.

“I love you more.”

“Not a chance.”

He felt his chest swell. He suddenly remembered something.  

“¿Mi amor?”

Wilhelm’s eyes fluttered open, cheeks and nose flushing. Simon smiled, caressing his face. He hadn’t called him that in a while, not since the first time they spent the weekend at Simon’s house, but it still got an instant reaction from Wilhelm. 

“Can I keep you?” Simon whispered.

Wilhelm let out a breathy laugh and nodded. 

Simon smiled to himself victoriously.

Notes:

My headcanon, in conclusion, is that Wilhelm is the boyfriend that showers with love and gestures, and Simon struggles with it a little.
In case it wasn’t clear, Ayub told Rosh about the conversation with Simon, and that was the last straw for Rosh, and the next day went and confronted Marcus about it. Because she’s been wanting to do that since Simon told her about Marcus calling him a victim. And because Rosh now feels a little protective of Wille too.
And Sara is really trying.
Thank you for reading!

Chapter 30: Patience

Summary:

Sometimes it helps to talk to someone.
Boris POV

Notes:

I haven’t done that many adult POVs. There’s Kristina, Linda, Malin, but a few people have been asking for Boris.
I don’t want to delve too much into it, but to use it as a springboard for the next part of the story. We’ve already gotten enough glimpses of Boris throughout the story, and how much he has helped some of the characters, whilst others fail to see the benefits of having someone like Boris. But yes, I guess he deserved his own chapter.
The title is another song by Eivør, I thought it would be funny because it’s the word ‘patience’ but also sounds a bit like ‘patients’.
TW: mental health issues, mental illness, self-destructive behaviors, self-deprecation. bullying, homophobia, internalized homophobia, anxiety, mentions of self-harm, mentions of abuse, mentions of substance abuse. 

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Boris, may I have a word?”

Boris looked up from his book to find Anette standing beside him. He was having his morning coffee in one of the benches outside the main building, his first appointment an hour away. 

“Of course, Anette,” he said, gesturing for her to sit in the bench beside him. She shook her head, so Boris left his book on the bench and stood up. He pushed his glasses to the top of his head and shoved his free hand in his pocket.

Anette cleared her throat. 

“Jan-Olof contacted me, asking if there’s a reason why August hasn’t been coming to see you this week.”

“Ah, yes, he told me he would be unable to make it until after Easter break, and perhaps beyond, after the upcoming rowing competition,” Boris replied. “I did include that in my report to him.”

“And did August give a reason for cancelling?”

“Not explicitly, but I am assuming that it has something to do with the upcoming competition,” he replied. “And he did not ask me to cancel the appointments, but rather postpone them until further notice. His words, not mine.” He cleared his throat. “Again, that was also included in my report.”

“I see,” Anette said, pursing her lips. “Jan-Olof made it very clear that August was required to attend these appointments, and would not be allowed to cancel or postpone, unless under very special circumstances.”

Would not be allowed to cancel.’ Boris shook his head slowly.

“Anette, I cannot force a student to come to me. The intention and willingness must come from them.”

“But has he mentioned anything specific why he won’t come? Is he unsatisfied with it?”

“I’m sorry, Anette, but I cannot discuss those details with anyone. If you want to know if he’s unsatisfied with our sessions, perhaps you should speak directly to him.”

She paused, lips pursed again, and nodded slowly. 

“Very well. This is a good time as any to remind you to please inform me of anything that comes up during your sessions with the students that I should be aware of,” she began, her face stern. “Any troubling behaviour or anything that a student says that may be cause for concern, as the principal point of contact, it’s important to alert me to it.”

Boris nodded slowly. “Of course, Anette. It is part of my job already to do that.”

“Good, good,” she answered, nodding along. She seemed to want to say something else. Boris took a sip of his coffee and peered at her. 

“Well, I suppose I will respond to Jan-Olof, and let him handle it any way he sees fit,” she said with a sigh and a small smile.

“Very well. You know where to find me. Have a good day, Anette,” Boris responded, sitting back down and returning to his book. 

Anette turned, seeming slightly annoyed, and walked back toward the main building. 

Of course if there was anything that a student said during a session that may be troubling, like suggesting that they might self-harm or harm others, or if he might suspect that the student was being the victim of abuse, Boris was required to report through the means necessary to protect that person or avoid any situations.

In the time he had been working at Hillerska, he hadn’t encountered a situation in which he was forced to disclose confidential information. 

That is not to say that things were perfect. 

After a moment, he closed the book, having been unable to pick up where he left off, and drank the last of his coffee and stood up, heading toward his office. 

When he applied for the counselling position at Hillerska, a lot of his colleagues questioned his decision.

“You know the royals and the elite don’t like to be told what to do by socialists, right?” said one of his oldest friends; they had worked together in two schools in Norrköping, the person with whom he had lively debates on philosophy and politics, and she was always the first person he expected to be bluntly honest with him. 

“That doesn’t mean that I won’t try,” Boris joked.

“Well, I’ll be right here, waiting for you when you come back, running and screaming,” she said with a wry smile.

Nearly a decade later, he was still at Hillerska. He had no idea what exactly about him had prompted the board to approve him, and for Anette to hire him. But it hadn’t been easy from the beginning. 

Most of the disdain came from the students themselves. Unlike most of the school staff, he most clearly did not fit in with the rest. They weren’t interested in his points of view, and he carried no influence over any of them. He overheard them referring to him as “the socialist”, often with a derogatory inflection.

That is not to say that none of the students ever came to him. The few that did often described symptoms of stress and anxiety, and sometimes mild depression. But as he inquired further into each individual case, most of them were already being treated by a psychologist or psychiatrist, often medicated. They just carried on, looking for ways to cope with it whilst still achieving everything they were expected to accomplish. 

And so he carried on with his job. And these few students would appear every once in a while, sometimes with a defiant attitude, sometimes hesitant. Most of them not wanting to get caught by anyone else going in to see “the socialist”. 

It was surprising, then, when the crown prince became one of his regulars. 

In fact, it was Erik that recommended to Nils that he should come see Boris. 

Nils had been seeing him since he was a first year. Something about a small rebellion, explaining that his parents did not believe in therapy.

It took about seven meetings, during which they talked about Nils’s short-term and long-term goals, before Nils revealed that he was closeted, and confessed that he hadn’t planned to even attend counselling until he learned that Boris was certified to work with LGBTQIA+ youth. 

Nils was incredibly smart and hard-working, he had a sharp mind and good habits, he was friendly and spoke lovingly of his family. But as they dug deeper together, Boris was able to find that, despite seeming quite confident, Nils still felt a lot of shame and pressure to compensate for certain things.

“Like what?”

“It’s not easy being brown or short in Sweden, obviously. And in these circles, it’s not as advantageous to have money or be well-connected as it is to be noble. I don’t think adding gay to the list is going to make things any better. Also, Sweden may be a progressive, liberal country, but in a global setting, being an out and proud CEO is not exactly a plus,” Nils explained matter-of-factly. “It’s just easier this way.”

“Is it easier?” Boris asked. 

“Less complicated, at least,” Nils said. 

That was indeed one of the main things that worried Nils: once a person came out, they couldn’t go back in. He wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted even his family to know, since they were very traditional; he worried about being rejected, but he constantly wondered if he might be able to do it, sometime in the future, when he was independent from them.

“Have you ever thought about telling your friends?” Boris asked him sometime at the beginning of Nils’s second year. 

“I’m pretty sure that my friends know,” Nils said confidently. 

“Does that make you feel good? To feel like they probably know?”

Nils thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “I know it’s awkward. We never talk about it, we never talk in the context of who we like, or… at least they don’t seem to expect me to. I’ve been with girls too. I mean,” he chuckled, “I had to be sure.” He became serious again. “But they never ask me in conversation if I’ve hooked up with any girls lately, they just talk about it, like I can just join in too, but they don’t… expect me to.”

“Is that something that you’re okay with?”

“I mean…” Nils sighed, “it’s not that I want to share everything with them. Especially my friend Vincent, he can be such a dick sometimes. But the fact that they probably know, or at least suspect, and they still include me in things… well, at least they haven’t rejected me.”

“Hypothetically, what would happen if you told them? Instead of assuming that they know.”

“I think… I hope they would be supportive. Like, just be cool with it.”

“What would happen if they didn’t? What would you do?”

Nils shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“It seems that you attach a lot of self-worth to how other people view you, which is not uncommon for people your age,” Boris commented. “Your identity, not just your sexual identity, is still something that you’re putting together. And you’re at an age where you might still be questioning or struggling with it.” 

Nils shook his head. “I don’t really struggle with my identity, including my sexuality. I know what I am. I just… prefer not to tell people.”

“That’s perfectly fair. But you do seem to feel a lot of pressure from it anyway,” Boris said, leaning forward in his chair. “Doubt can be debilitating. I would like for you to simply ask yourself this: what would be the best and worst scenario in both cases? In the case that you told your family, and the case that you told your friends?”

Nils seemed to think about it for a long time. 

“I guess, obviously, the best case scenario is, everyone is cool with it, they support me, and then I can… talk openly about it. In between is the scenario in which… it just becomes fine but awkward. It just… they choose to ignore it maybe? But they don’t openly push me away or say anything horrible to me. And…” he bit his lip for a second, “worst case scenario is… they tell me that… that they don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. My parents tell me I’m… not their son anymore, or something equally dramatic but still possible,” he chuckled mirthlessly. “And they show me the door. And I’m never welcome back in the family, never talk to me again.”

“And in my friends’ case, the worst would be for them to… treat me differently. To stop talking to me, or… tell everyone.” He nodded slowly, looking blankly ahead. “Yeah, I… I think that would be… probably the worst. I guess if they didn’t want anything to do with me, that would be… well, can’t do anything about that, but I guess I’d be fine eventually. But if they… told other people, without asking me first or giving me a heads up, then… that would be pretty tough.”

That was indeed a very prominent trait about kids in this school; they seemed to value loyalty and trust and friendship and being in the ‘inner circle’ and forming reliable friendships and partnerships and following traditions. There seemed to be a lot of secrecy, too. Yet gossip and rumours ran rampant, and information that was supposed to be private, like someone’s sexuality or gender identity or mental health or sexual and romantic relations or personal or family problems, seemed too often to become fair game to be discussed behind a person’s back. 

And being outed, unfortunately, was often not treated as the betrayal of trust it truly represented. 

It explained a lot about what happened a little over a year later, and how it affected Nils in particular, and other students in general. 

As a licensed therapist, Boris was also staff member of the team that supervised the reporting system. Hillerska, like every other school, had a confidential online system to report situations of harassment, abuse, violence, etc., either as a victim or bystander, whether it was a student, staff member or visitor, without collecting any data from the person making the report. And the team would review any report and follow the steps necessary to investigate the case and take proper measures.

Unfortunately, the school did not frequently remind students and staff of the existence of this system or any of its channels. Boris had been a part of it since he first started working at Hillerska, and he had seen the flyers up on boards around the campus, partially covered by other announcements and postings; there had not been any vocal reminders of how to access the system, nor was there any other means of transmission of the resources. He brought this up several times with the rest of the team and, more importantly, the headmistress, but they all said that everyone that needed to know about the system were already in the know; students were given information on all the resources in their welcome package, and staff were informed during their onboarding process.

After the situation of the leaked video, Boris monitored the system for any reports. Nothing came through.

“It is not a failure in the system, it is simply because nobody has any information,” Anette told him when he brought it up again, suggesting that perhaps people were not aware of the option of reporting anonymously. “Nobody saw anything, unfortunately.”

He inquired if anything had been found from the library computer that was taken away by authorities, if they had been able to ascertain whether the video was posted from it, and what the source of the video was.

“I unfortunately have not been given that information yet,” Anette responded every time. 

Unfortunately. There was nothing. 

Also unfortunately, even if something had been found, it would still not undo the fact that the video was out there, that many people around the world had seen it.

Boris couldn’t do anything about that. All he could do was try to help the people affected by it. 

It was a comforting turn of events when Wilhelm started showing up to his office, albeit reluctantly.

It was easier for Boris to begin to ascertain his emotional and psychological state if they were alone, even if Wilhelm didn’t want to speak at all at first. He had experience dealing with cases of harassment and cyberbullying before, and it was never easy, especially when the victim was closed off. 

Wilhelm was visibly troubled, by other things, not just the video. They were both uncomfortably aware that, despite the recorded interview in which he denied being one of the people in the video, everyone in Hillerska still knew that it was him. 

But ultimately, as Wilhelm slowly opened up with each session, Boris began to understand that being the victim of sexual harassment and being publicly outed were only two more things added to the pile of things Wilhelm was going through, a pile that had always been there, and which only became more ominous when he became the crown prince. 

Boris had luckily been there to help, the day that Wilhelm was given the news that his brother had passed away. He had made himself available to help him deal with the grief and trauma. On top of that, Wilhelm exhibited clear signs of suffering from survivor’s guilt: it wasn’t uncommon in traumatic experiences where someone died, for a person to feel guilty about being alive when the other person wasn’t. Even if Wilhelm hadn’t even been there when his brother died. 

Wilhelm came back from the funeral a different person, in more ways than one. Despite what he was going through, though, he didn’t take Boris up on his offer. And it all seemed to go downhill from there.

The video was more like the last piece added on top of a haphazardly-built structure, which ultimately brought it down. 

But that didn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. It was an opportunity to rebuild, with stronger bases, and a sounder structure. 

Wilhelm was, in his professional assessment, a neglected kid, riddled with anxiety and insecurities, who yearned for affection and acceptance. He was quick and clever, kind and compassionate, and possessed all the qualities of a natural leader, stifled by a system that required him to fit into a mold.

But someone sparked something in him.

That was the spark Boris had been looking for. The spark that Wilhelm needed to be ready and willing to build again, with a clear goal in mind. 

It wasn’t easy. There was much fear and apprehension. He had never been given the tools to deal with his anxiety, and he fell victim to it so often that it was paralyzing. 

Yet, he stood in front of a crowd and spoke the truth, refusing to be paralyzed by it anymore.

The truth will set you free, Boris thought proudly, as he watched everyone around them lose their composure. 

As he expected, a whole new set of insecurities began to take hold. Fear of repeating mistakes, fear of more bad things happening that he couldn’t control. There was still the fear of disappointing people, but especially one person now. That person who became the main subject during every session.

It was striking, how important it was to Wilhelm to talk about Simon, to discuss his feelings, to make sure he was doing his part in the relationship. Most boys, most teenagers were generally not as concerned with learning how to maintain a healthy romantic relationship. This wasn’t a silly or temporary teenage romance at all: Wilhelm wanted a companion. 

Yet the obstacles were difficult to ignore. 

“I’ve never been in love before, never felt remotely like this about anyone in my life,” Wilhelm said candidly one day. “It’s extra confusing to feel this way in public.” 

“Why is it confusing?” Boris asked.

“Well, it just… is.” The boy paced around his office, restless. “Everybody has an opinion all of a sudden. About him, about me. And I know I shouldn’t care. It doesn’t bother me what they’re saying, it bothers me that they feel they have the right to say anything at all.”

“You can’t control what people say, or that they think,” Boris said.

“I know. But… urgh, everyone is such a hypocrite,” Wilhelm grumbled. “And I hate having to act like it’s fine. Like I’m fine. And worst of all, to ask Simon to do the same.”

Boris nodded. “I see what you mean.”

“It’s just… I’ve always sort of had to do it, even before I became crown prince, and now that I am, I still don’t… it just doesn’t… my brother is the one who knew, the one that was taught how to do these things. Yet people expect me to nail it, even though nobody has even bothered me to show me how it should be. So if I can’t do it, then… how can they expect him to?”

Boris continued to nod. 

Wilhelm’s eyes watered. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for me,” he said, his voice thicker. “It’s like… paralyzing. And I know it shouldn’t be such a big deal, it’s just showing up most of the time, it’s stupid. And yet…”

“It’s not stupid,” Boris said. “It’s a lot of pressure. And you wouldn’t be the first person to feel paralyzed by it.”

Wilhelm was shaking his head. “Erik always told me that it was like acting, just playing a role, pretending to be someone else. Because that’s the way he did it. Sounds easy enough, but I don’t know if I can… I don’t like playing pretend, I don’t like not being myself. It feels like lying. And I’ve already done my fair share of lying before. And I’ve had people lie to me…” he looked down at his hands. 

Boris looked at him curiously. Wilhelm sighed.

“Erik didn’t seem to have a problem doing that, he could be two different people when he needed to be. But not me,” he shook his head again. “I just… It’s difficult to know where to draw the line. Where crown prince Wilhelm ends and where Wille begins.”

“Especially when the two are constantly at odds with one another,” Erik had once said about himself.

In Boris’s office, at least, he had been mostly private Erik. The Erik that talked frankly about becoming the crown prince as young as nine years old, and how different things had become for him from that moment; walking around with bodyguards to school and friends’ birthday parties and swim lessons, and hitting puberty in the public eye, and trying to do his best in class and sports but the pressure of it becoming a bit much at times. 

Erik began to see him to figure out what his short-term future would be, to deal with the pressure of deciding. He was expected to do military training, but it was up to him how long; he was expected to go to university, but it was up to him which of the three most important careers he studied. And ultimately none of it mattered, whatever he chose would be somehow wrong. 

“It’s a lot of pressure, for anyone, to have to decide at such a young age what they want to do. I can only imagine how that pressure must feel for you,” Boris said, Erik shook his head. 

“It’s not the same thing. Other people get to decide,” he said with a sardonic smile. “I don’t. I have a role to play, and I just have to fulfill it. The pressure comes from doing it right.”

Erik was famously a bit of a playboy in his school days. Not surprising, the way he oozed charm, plastered over every magazine detailing his royal life and love life and hobbies and future aspirations, at the top of every ranking of the most handsome European princes. He had a string of short-term relationships, some more controversial than others, painfully detailed by gossip and celebrity social media accounts. 

But he was still the princely ideal in his manners and his achievements, in the way he presented himself. And as soon as he donned the military uniform it was like he became a different person, the perfect picture of a future king. 

“But there’s no room for mistakes,” he said, still smiling, but bitterly. “And I don’t get to be like my brother, who gets to do whatever he wants the entire time.”

“Does he?” Boris asked. Erik shrugged. 

“I mean, sure, he has future commitments and expectations on him too. But… like, he could marry whoever he wants, he could become a marine biologist, like he said he wanted to for a while, or an astronaut like he wanted to be when he was even younger…”

“An astronaut?” Boris repeated with an amused smile. Erik chuckled.

“Well, that’s probably not the case anymore, but yeah. Said he wanted to visit asteroid B612.”

Boris chuckled too. Erik continued to talk with a smile and a dismissive shrug.

“I don’t mean to sound like I’m jealous of him. I’m not. I know it’s still hard for him, he’s not great with the attention. But the expectations on him are not nearly as monumental as they are for me.” He sat back in his chair and sighed. “It’s stressful.”

Boris had sat enough times with Erik to get a pretty fleshed out idea about him: Erik was clever and sharp-minded, routine- and goal-oriented, hard-working and dedicated; good-humoured and kind. But he could also be impatient and critical, especially of himself. Still, he valued loyalty and friendship, to have people in whom he could trust. Because, as he said, in his ‘line of work’, those were difficult to find.

But the more he got to know him, the more he realized that Erik was becoming more and more self-deprecating.

“Self-pity doesn’t get you anywhere, really. You just have to deal with it, keep going,” he declared one day, again shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “I also think it’s disingenuous to assume that anyone might feel sorry for me.” 

“Why do you think that?”

“People only see the privilege, the status, they can’t really look beyond that and spot the human being.” He chuckled. “Ordinary people will never accept someone like me as one of their own. And I get it,” he added. Boris nodded lightly.

“That doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve compassion,” he responded. Erik smiled, a bit of a sad smile, and shrugged again.

“I know.”

It was always like that, Erik just said these things and then dismissed them as unimportant and cumbersome. Like he just needed to vent, but he didn’t expect any answers. Yet he kept coming to talk. 

“Do you talk to anyone about these things? Your parents? Your friends? Your brother perhaps?” Boris asked.

“Not my parents, never,” he said simply, without further explanation. “My friends wouldn’t understand. They think they do, but they really don’t.” He let out a deep sight. “And Wille… well, he’s probably the one person who understands better than anyone else… but I prefer not to talk about these things with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want him to think that he should worry about me. Like, I don’t want him to feel bad.”

“Why would he feel bad?”

Erik sighed, his sardonic air leaving him. “Because there’s more pressure on me. I can handle it, though. But he… he’s different. Even if he’s under less pressure, he has other things to deal with.”

“Such as?”

“Well, our parents… our mother… treat him differently. They let him have a bit more freedom, because he doesn’t have as big as a responsibility and commitment as I do. But they also… seem to care less about him. Unless he’s being rebellious, or doing things to embarrass the family. Then they care a lot.”

Boris raised his eyebrows. “Is it a cry for attention, perhaps?”

Erik slowly shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think he understands that they simply treat him differently, and he probably would much rather that they leave him alone, let him be a little more carefree. But I think… I think he probably puts on a brave attitude, like he doesn’t care, but at the same time he feels… like they probably don’t care about him at all.”

“Do you feel that’s true?”

“Unfortunately yes. I feel like, usually, the older sibling is the one that has the most expectations placed on them, right? But as long as that one turns out okay, the younger one might be more like the one the parents get to coddle a little bit, love them and spoil them, right? But in our case, neither of us got coddled. So I guess he just feels like… a spare.” He shrugged again. “That’s why we’re so close, perhaps. I love him to death, although sometimes we drive each other crazy, but now that I’m here, we do miss each other. It’s been hard to be away from each other. I guess we’ll get used to it.” He bit his lip. “But I know it’s harder for him.”

He sighed tiredly. “But still, maybe it’s better that way.”

“Why do you say that?” Boris asked. 

Erik sat forward now, leaning his elbows onto his knees. “I mean, if the roles were reversed, it would still be tough on him, perhaps even more. I feel like he’s not meant to be in this role. It would be too harsh for him. To become this, to be the one that has all the expectations placed on him.”

“You think he would not be able to handle it?”

Erik leaned back again, and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe he could. But… I think he’s a bit… idealistic. Like, he would probably be intent on changing some things, making a difference, and as nice and magical as that might sound, it’s not what the crown is about,” he said with a little sardonic laugh. “The monarchy doesn’t change. We’re not meant to try to change it, we’re meant to preserve it, be the perfect image of endurance and tradition, and he’d… hate that. He’d probably be crushed by the reality of it. I don’t know if he’d be able to withstand that. So… it’s better this way.”

“Perhaps you’re wrong,” Boris said, though he didn’t specify what he thought Erik was wrong about. 

Erik nodded. “I hope I am wrong,” he answered, and he didn’t specify either what he meant. 

Most of the students that came to him for the first time were timid, a little skeptical. 

Simon was no exception.

At first, he came across as a bit guarded. Considering recent events, Boris was not surprised. And it gave him a pretty good idea of what probably made Simon come to him, and what he was hoping for. 

From their first few sessions, Boris pieced together bits about Simon, about his upbringing, his family life, and how he came to Hillerska for his sister but also for himself. He was bullied at his old school for ‘looking’ gay. Once he came out, the bullying became less intense; but when Sara was given the chance to switch schools, he followed her without hesitation, not only so that she wouldn’t be alone, but also because he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity given to him. 

Simon, after all, was incredibly smart, no doubt thanks to his musical intelligence; he was hard-working, responsible, and had excellent grades. He was very creative and resourceful, and thus an excellent problem-solver. He valued kindness and compassion and honesty, and he was fiercely protective. He was also short-tempered and impatient, often proud and irascible. 

And starting at a school where he was still the target of unwanted attention, especially after recent events, it hardened his skin further. 

That came up constantly during their sessions; the fear of things happening that were out of his control, feeling that he couldn’t trust anyone anymore, and feeling regret over past mistakes or choices.

“There’s no point in dwelling on past events, what should have been done or said. We can’t change what has already happened,” Boris explained during the most recent session. “The important thing now is to know that you can support each other, to move past that, to keep each other from repeating mistakes, and to help each other advocate for yourselves.” 

Simon nodded slowly. 

“There’s so many things that happened that just… it makes it hard,” he started. “Especially the things that were out of my control. Like, things that other people did. Things that hurt.”

“That is understandable,” Boris said. “And it’s not easy. You have to figure out if it’s worth dwelling on it, or to move on from it somehow, or to forgive those people for what they did.”

“I don’t know how…” Simon was shaking his head. “One of those people is… someone that I trusted. Someone that I never thought would do something like that to me.”

He wiped an unexpected tear from his eye. “I don’t know if I can forgive them, I can’t just forget what they did. But it also hurts to think that… that even if I did, I can’t trust them anymore. That things will never be the same again.”

Boris took a deep breath. “It is your decision, of course. But to forgive someone is more for you than for them. Forgiveness doesn't excuse what they did, but rather it prevents what they did from destroying your heart.” He leaned forward in his chair. “And it is the first step toward healing.”

Simon sighed and looked down at his hands. 

His first appointment with Sara was a change of pace.

There were other students with ADHD in the school, but Sara was the only one diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder as well. He had met with many teenagers like her before, in other schools.

He knew about Sara’s case; she was bullied so badly in her previous school that she missed a lot of class, leading to her having to repeat a year. So when the opportunity presented itself for her to go to a different school, have a fresh start, she jumped at it. But it presented a whole new set of challenges for her. 

And the one thing that Boris really wanted to know was why she hadn’t sought counselling until then, and what made her do it now.

“My brother suggested it. But… I don’t know if I trust counsellors,” she said plainly, sitting stiffly in the chair across from him. “They’re not therapists, they’re just there for guidance. But I don’t trust therapists either, because is a whole… thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“It feels like… it goes on for a long time but it goes nowhere.”

“What makes you say that?”

Sara shrugged. “Past experience.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that. Therapy is supposed to go somewhere. And that somewhere is meant to be wherever you wish to go.”

He stood up and walked to the counter where he kept the kettle. He put it on to boil, and prepared two cups with teabags. 

“Yes, I work as a counsellor,” he continued in the meantime, “I chose to work as a counsellor because I love to work with students in particular, help them develop structure and routines and good habits to help them improve their educational experience and achieve their goals. But I am also a licensed therapist. I work with cognitive behavioral therapy, or CBT, I’ve worked with countless children and teenagers with conditions such as ADHD, autism spectrum disorder, OCD, anxiety disorders, eating disorders, substance abuse, and more, and I’ve been certified to work with LGBTQIA+ youth, in helping them deal with figuring out their identity, with conditions like depression, dysmorphia, and others.”

He poured the boiling water in the two cups and carefully carried them both back, handing one to Sara. “I am here for anything you need, whether you’re having trouble studying, or having issues with a classmate, or having insecurities… or just to vent about things. Sometimes talking to someone helps, it helps us see things from a different perspective. We sometimes get stuck in our own heads, and it’s difficult to see beyond what we know, how we feel.”

“So, whatever you find will help you, I’m happy to provide.”

Sara hesitated before she took the cup from him. He sat back down as he talked, and she stared at the teabag floating in the water, brewing. 

“It’s just that,” she started timidly, “I’ve been to counselling before, in my old school. Since I got evaluated and diagnosed with ADHD and autism spectrum disorder. And the counsellor there really didn’t seem to understand me, or even tried.”

Boris nodded. “Sorry to hear that. But I do hope that you don’t think, just because it didn’t work before, that therapy and counselling simply don’t work, and that you do give it a second chance.”

She perked up at that. She looked up at him momentarily, before her eyes fell to the cup in her hand again. 

“Is there anything in particular that made you come now?” he asked.

Sara sat in silence for a moment.

“I hurt people.”

Boris’s raised his eyebrows minutely. “Do you mean physically or emotionally?”

“Emotionally. Does it matter? I… I hurt people that I care about, because I’m selfish.”

“And you want to know what to do about it?”

“I guess,” she mumbled. “I mean… if it would do any good at all.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

She shrugged. 

“I don’t know what I want. I hoped that you’d tell me what to do.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Sara. I can only help you figure it out yourself.”

Sara leaned back on the chair, staring at the rim of the cup now, watching the steam rise from it. She sighed impatiently. 

Boris offered a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s disappointing to hear, believe me, we’ve all wished at some point in our lives that someone else might give us all the answers that we need. But I don’t have all the answers. And even if I did, it doesn’t work that way. You have to find the answers yourself. But I can help you.”

“How?” she asked.

“By asking you the right questions, by showing you how to ask the right questions, and trying to guide you so that you get there yourself.”

She shrugged, eyebrows knitted together. “Why not just give the answers that you do have?”

“Because you might not accept them that way. You have to want to find the answers.”

“The ‘answer’ is not a neat, clear concept or idea that you then learn to apply to your life. And it has so much to do with things that only you know about yourself, your personality, your identity, your upbringing, your life experiences. If I tell you what I think you need to do to resolve this issue or that issue, it is only my point of view, based on my experience, and what I think would work for me would not necessarily work for you. So you have to do part of the work yourself.”

“Finding the answers to the questions you have is as much a part of it as the answers themselves. It’s an exercise in self-love, to learn more about yourself, to have patience and compassion for yourself. We’re human, and we make mistakes, and sometimes we hurt people. But we have the ability to learn from those mistakes and grow and keep ourselves from hurting people again. We just have to want to do it.”

She still stared resolutely at the cup, but her face, her brow softened. 

Boris peered at her curiously. He needed more time to make a preliminary assessment of Sara, but at first impression, she was smart and capable, and tired of people underestimating her. She was also currently not herself; something had happened or was happening that she was acting unlike the carefree, curious, lively girl he had seen around the school. In fact, she had been not herself for a while now. 

And he had a pretty good idea why. But there was only one way to confirm that, and to help her find herself again.

“I know it’s unsatisfying, and a little scary maybe,” he added. “But I can promise you it’s worth it, if you’re willing to really work toward it.”

Sara looked up from the cup at last, eyes filled with tears. 

“Okay,” she said, bringing the cup to her lips and taking a careful sip. 

Boris didn’t usually check his email between appointments, he preferred to do it at the start of the day, and then again at the end. But a particular notification in the corner of his screen caught his eye.

‘Anonymous report received’.

Boris checked again. He clicked on the notification, and a browser window opened and led him to his email sign in. He quickly entered his email and password. 

At the top of his inbox was an automatically-generated email notification from the Hillerska reporting system service.

The only information the email itself contained was the date and time of the report, and a copy of the confidentiality agreement attached to the reporting service. 

But to be able to access the report itself, he’d have to log into the system, and do two-step verification, and right now he didn’t have time. He had another appointment waiting outside his door, another newcomer. 

Boris tried to push the email out of his mind for a while. His patients deserved his undivided attention. 

He opened the door, and greeted the blonde girl in a bright purple outfit. 

“Hello, Stella. Please, come in.”

Notes:

My headcanon of Boris is that he’s a lot like this person that I follow, AceDadAdvice, on Instagram. They just always put me in a good mood when they pop up on my feed. I don’t even know them, but they have helped me a lot to come to terms with my asexuality.
On another note, a lot of how I think of Boris’s method in my fic is based on my own therapist.
To me, one of the most amazing things that I’ve realized is so essential to good counselling and therapy is someone who will ask the right questions, questions that it hasn’t occurred to me to ask myself.
Also, this is the first chapter in which there’s a lot of Erik. My headcanon of Erik is that he is the picture perfect prince and a bit of a privileged asshole. And he probably liked being admired and he probably did get along with August. But if he was going to see Boris, then maybe he was a little more self-aware than we give him credit for. And I don’t think that Erik knew what August was capable of.
Anyway, here’s to more Boris in season 3.

Chapter 31: The plan

Summary:

There will be consequences.
Wille POV

Notes:

This is a long one. A lot happens.
To clarify, dialogue in italics means that Wille hears it over the phone. I thought it would help visually to know where everyone is.
TW: mentions of substance abuse, mentions of child pornography, mentions of harassment, mentions of homophobia, nausea, anxiety, trauma, PTSD.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Tuesday.

Four in the morning, and Wilhelm lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He had been trying to fall back asleep for the past hour, to no avail.

It was a common occurrence lately, but today he felt like he might unravel any moment.

“Have you been awake this whole time?”

Wilhelm flinched as Simon’s voice cut through the silence. Simon was looking up at his face, brow knitted.

Wilhelm chuckled lightly. “I could ask you the same question.”

Simon nuzzled his shoulder and sighed. “Yeah, it’s… there’s too much stuff in my mind.”

Wilhelm rubbed his eyes. “I don’t think I slept at all. Which is inconvenient, since I need to be super alert today.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They closed their eyes and tried to sleep. Whether either of them managed at all, it felt like not time passed at all before the alarm went off. Wilhelm sighed and turned it off.

“I wish time would move fucking faster…” he said, glancing at Simon, who rolled over onto his back. 

“Wille,” he started, eyes closed, a deep sigh escaping him, “maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

Wilhelm sat up and turned to face him.

“No.”

Simon shook his head. “I don’t want you to do this for me.”

“It’s not just for you. It’s for us, okay? We’re in this together.”

Simon slowly sat up too, and took his hand, interlacing their fingers. 

“What if something bad happens?” he asked in a small whisper.

“Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“Something bad always happens.”

Wilhelm pulled their joined hands toward his lips, kissing Simon’s fingers.

“Then we’ll deal with it together.” 

Simon nodded, trying to smile. “Together.”

- see u guys later today - Rosh texted in the morning.

- the scooby-doo gang together at last! - Maddie wrote.

- i thought we were more like ocean’s eleven - Ayub said.

Wilhelm read through the messages at breakfast and chuckled. It made him feel a tiny bit better, to know that he and Simon weren’t alone, that they had a team of people backing them up in this crazy mission. 

But he was still nervous. He tried to eat, but felt nauseated. From the state of Simon’s plate, so did he. They were skipping fencing today, with the excuse of feeling like they were coming down with something, and feeling ill. At least that part was true. 

“Any news from the RC?” Simon asked, as they walked to class.

Wilhelm checked his phone. There were no messages from Farima.

The day before, she sent an extensive email, detailing the schedule for Easter break. He was expected to be in meetings on Monday and Tuesday, fittings on Wednesday Thursday coincided with the anniversary of his grandfather’s death, more meetings on Good Friday, and Saturday there was an event for children and teens at a museum. Easter Sunday was morning mass and hopefully not much else before he went back to Hillerska. 

He took the chance to ask Farima if it meant that he’d spend the weekend at Simon’s house as usual, and whether it was possible for him to stay until Tuesday, and take the meetings virtually. Farima replied that he was expected in Stockholm on Sunday evening, but told him she’d bring up his request with the Royal Court, and they would let him know.

So far there was no response.

“I bet they’ll come up with some bullshit,” he grumbled. Simon tried not to look too disappointed.

“Well, as long as they don’t make you leave for Stockholm earlier, I guess.”

“No way,” Wilhelm said, shaking his head. “Again, I’d throw myself out of the car and hitchhike back here.”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Simon said, smiling and rolling his eyes. 

They met up with Felice and Maddie, as usual, in the back of the classroom.

“I’m so nervous,” Felice confessed.

“It’ll be okay,” Maddie said. “Are we hanging out later, when Rosh and Ayub are here? You know, after the mission is accomplished?”

“Yeah, maybe we could go to the lake or something,” Felice suggested.

They agreed. Simon glanced to his right, and Wilhelm followed his gaze. Sara sat in the corner, fingernail between her teeth. She had an open book on the desk, but her eyes were unfocused. 

The rest of the day seemed to drag on forever. It was difficult to focus on anything, to have conversations. Wilhelm felt his heart might explode out of his chest.

He and Simon approached Britta between class, to let her know that they were skipping fencing practice today, without elaborating.

“Oh no, are you two coming down with something?” she asked in a concerned voice. 

“Maybe,” Wilhelm shrugged. “We’re not feeling great, so we’d rather sit this one out.”

“Well, no big deal, we’ll pick up after Easter break. Hope you guys feel better!”

At lunch, he played with his food and watched August out of the corner of his eye. 

After their last class, Wilhelm and Simon went back to Forest Ridge, into Wilhelm’s room, and waited. Most of Forest Ridge was empty, the last few boys trickling out to head to their afternoon activities. 

- the rowing team is in the gym - Sara texted. She was still in the school building, pretending to study, to confirm August’s whereabouts.

- okay - Wilhelm replied.  

They still had to wait for everyone to leave, and for Rosh and Ayub to arrive. 

He sat on his bed, phone in hand, compulsively checking the time. Simon sat on the edge of the desk, phone in his hand too, looking out the window. He absently tapped the little frog prince, sitting on its broken snow globe remains, on a little plate on the windowsill. 

Wilhelm’s legs felt numb, fingertips tingling. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, and unconsciously rubbed his chest. 

“Hey.”

Wilhelm started. Simon watched him with a concerned frown. 

Wilhelm flashed a reassuring smile. “I’m okay.” 

Unconvinced, Simon looked back out the window. 

“They’re here.”

Wilhelm shot up to his feet, and leaned over Simon. Rosh and Ayub were being escorted by Joakim, the three of them chatting animatedly. They parked their motorbikes near the entrance to Forest Ridge and waved to Joakim as he left. 

They watched Ayub text something, and their phones vibrated at the same time. 

- team has arrived - it said.

- we’re on our way - Felice answered almost immediately.

“Okay, let’s go.” Simon stood up, grabbed Wilhelm’s hand and pulled him toward the door. Wilhelm began to follow. 

“Hey.”

Simon felt the tug of Wilhelm’s hand and turned, worried. 

“Are you…?”

Wilhelm licked his lips before kissing him. A breathless Simon grabbed Wilhelm by the shoulders and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. When they parted, Wilhelm felt much more serene.

“There,” he whispered softly, pressing their foreheads together. “That’s what I needed.”

Simon let out a breathy, relieved laugh. “Glad I could help.”

“I’m so pumped that I nearly vomited on the way here,” an excited Rosh hissed as soon as Wilhelm and Simon approached. “Can’t wait to fuck over Humperdick.”

“That’s encouraging,” Simon said.

“She’s been unbearable all day,” Ayub said. “All week, really. Did I tell you she got all up in Marcus’s face the other day?”

Simon raised his eyebrows. “You did what?”

Rosh punched Ayub in the shoulder. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.”

Ayub rubbed his shoulder and smirked. “She verbally crushed him.”

“Did she?” Wilhelm nodded appreciatively. 

“Laid him flat and dragged him all over the canteen floor. In front of everyone.”

“And you didn’t record it?”

“My bad. Maybe someone else did.”

“So is the place cleared out?” Rosh asked.

- sara, where are you? - Simon texted.

- hold on - she replied.

“I’m so fucking nervous,” Simon huffed. 

“Bro, chill. It’ll be okay,” Ayub said.  

“Yeah, and if Humperdick shows up unexpectedly-” Rosh started.

“You’ll verbally crush him?” Wilhelm asked. 

“I’ll put him in a headlock.”

“Even better.”

“Yeah, I would love for you to do that,” Maddie said, appearing behind Rosh. Felice was beside her.

“Hey,” Felice said. She had a folded blanket and a tote bag. 

Ayub clutched at his chest like his heart had stopped. “This vision can’t be real…” he said breathlessly. “She’s even more beautiful in person.”

Felice tried to contain a wide smile as she hugged him. “Nice to finally meet you too, in person.”

Wilhelm was trying not to smirk as Rosh became a little bashful when Maddie greeted her. 

“The Scooby Doo Gang’s all here,” Maddie said, gesturing toward everyone. 

“We’re still waiting for Sara,” Wilhelm said. 

“Oooh, is this your bike?” Maddie ran a hand over the handles of Rosh’s motorbike.

Rosh turned a bit red around the ears. “Yeah.”

“Nice. Never ridden a motorbike before…”

“Well maybe-”

Simon cleared his throat. “Guys, no time for flirting. Sara’s here.”

- im in - Sara had just texted.

“Where is she?” Felice asked, looking up from her phone.

“My room,” Simon said. “I left the window open, so she could climb in.”

“And why?”

“It’s best if no one sees her. So no one knows she was here.”

“Makes sense.”

“Let’s go then,” Maddie said and turned to Wilhelm and Simon. “Hey, guys, could I use the bathroom in here real quick? I really need to go right now.” 

“Um, sure, come with us,” Wilhelm responded.

“We’ll be right back, okay?” Simon announced.

“I’ll keep them company,” Felice called after them, as they went inside. 

The corridor was empty. They hurried into Simon’s room. Sara stood by the window, shuffling nervously.

“Everything cool?” Simon asked. She nodded.

“Okay, let’s start the call,” Wilhelm said, pulling out his phone. He put one earphone in and gave the other to Simon. Maddie had two pairs, and gave one to Sara, and put a lime green one in her left ear. 

Wilhelm made the call. Both Sara and Maddie answered right away, then Ayub, then Rosh and finally Felice. 

“Everyone hear me okay?” 

“Loud and clear, captain,” Ayub said over the headphones.

“Everyone test, please.”

“Uh, Felice here.”

“Ayub here.”

“Hi this is Rosh, how may I help you?”

“Hi, do you have a minute to talk about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?” Maddie said.

“Jesus…” Simon chuckled, rubbing his face. “This is Simon.”

“This is Sara.”

“Okay good, everyone knows what we’re doing?”

A chorus of yeses came over the line. 

“Okay, then. Let’s go.”

“Be quick, guys, but more importantly, be careful,” Felice said. 

Wilhelm went first. He walked out of the room and down the corridor to the stairs and looked every way. “Coast is clear.”

Simon and Sara followed him, and Maddie came last. 

“Going upstairs.”

“All clear out here too.”

“Ugh, is it me or does it smell like sweaty boys around here?”

They came to the landing, and Maddie stayed by the entrance. “I’m in position,” she said dramatically. 

Wilhelm led the way carefully down the corridor toward August’s room. He half expected the door to open and for August to come out, or to be sitting inside, waiting for them. 

But he turned the knob and pulled the door open and peeked inside. Empty.

“Hurry,” Maddie hissed.

Wilhelm felt the rush of adrenaline as he beckoned Simon and Sara inside. He closed the door quietly. 

They were in.

“They’re in,” Maddie whispered.

Wilhelm stood unmoving, disoriented. He had never been in August’s room, though it was exactly like Simon’s, exactly like his own single room had been, except mirrored. 

Before he could speak, Sara knelt by the desk and checked the rubbish bin. She shook her head. 

Wilhelm and Simon looked at each other and they split up. Simon started in the bathroom area, and Wilhelm opened the wardrobe. Sara looked through the desk drawer. 

They worked as fast, careful and quiet as possible. Anything they moved they did gently and put it back in its place immediately. 

“Shit, someone’s coming,” Felice said suddenly. Wilhelm nearly felt his heart pop out of his chest. “Oh, okay, it’s Henry and Walter.”

“Fuck, okay…” Wilhelm muttered. At least they wouldn’t come upstairs.

“Hey, Felice,” he heard Henry and Walter say at the same time, their voices getting closer.

“Hey Walter, hey Henry.”

“Walter, the monster hunter?” Ayub said excitedly.

“Wait, are you Ayub?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you, man.”

“I’m Henry.”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“We, uh, we had to bring something for Simon, and we’re just hanging out for a while. We’re waiting for him and Wille.”

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in training? Weren’t you in the rowing team?” Felice asked. 

Walter chuckled. “I am, but… I’m faking an injury, so that I don’t have to do the competition. Or the training for it. Don’t tell Vincent.”

“Fair enough.”

“Anyway sorry that we haven’t played in a while.”

“Right, because you tried to haze my best friend, and now he doesn’t want to hang out with you guys anymore.”

“Oh yeah… you heard about that?”

“Thanks, Ayub,” Simon whispered. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around…”

They heard Walter’s and Henry’s voices get further away.

“Anything?” Maddie asked in the smallest whisper.

“Nothing yet,” Wilhelm said, dropping to his knees. He checked under the bed, flashing the phone torch under it. He partially crawled under it, the space just big enough for him to fit. He shone the light into every corner. There was nothing except dust and lint. 

“We’ve looked everywhere,” Simon said, sounding disappointed. “Sara, you’re sure you haven’t found it?”

Sara check the underside of the desk again. “If I had, I would have it, wouldn’t it?” She looked at him, eyes sad. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

“No, no, that’s not what I was implying… I’m just… fuck,” Simon grumbled. He ran his hands through his hair and let out a deep breath. “Wille?”

Wilhelm rolled onto his back and slid under the bed again, shining the light at the underside of the bed. “Nothing down here,” he said. 

“Let’s look again, then, maybe we missed something,” Sara said hurriedly, kicking off her shoes and climbing onto the bed to go through the shelves again, despite Wilhelm having done it already. “Wille, did you check all the pockets in his clothes?”

“Yes.”

“Inside every bag?”

“Yes.”

“The underwear drawer?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Inside each shoe?”

“Also unfortunately.”

“Simon, did you check the laundry bag?”

“Yes, it was gross.”

Sara climbed down and put her shoes back on. She checked behind the curtains again. “Did you look inside other bottles?”

“It’s not here, Sara,” Simon said, carefully looking through the hamper again, grimacing. “It’s a small room, there’s not much in it, not that many places to hide anything… it’s just not here.” He threw a pile of clothes onto the floor. 

“It can’t be.” Sara was shaking her head, opening the wardrobe again. “It has to be here. He… he was using it.”

Wilhelm stood up and brushed some lint of his sweater. “Maybe it’s like we thought, maybe he finished the pills already and he keeps the bottle elsewhere.” 

“In his locker?” Maddie suggested.

Sara’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “What do we do, then?”

Wilhelm adjusted the bed quilt to how it was before. “I think we’ll have to try-”

“Shit,” Rosh said under her breath.

“What?”

“It’s Humperdick. He’s coming.”

“What?” Wilhelm said. 

“WHAT?” Simon exclaimed louder than he intended. Sara gestured for both of them to stay away from the window. 

“He’s coming, he’s coming back,” Ayub said in a hurried whisper. 

“What the fuck is he doing here? Isn’t he supposed to be in training for, like, another hour?” Maddie hissed.

“Headlock? Do I sit on him?” Rosh muttered, panicking.

“Shh, calm down. I’m-” Felice cut herself off.

They heard steps crunching in the gravel. 

“August,” Felice called. 

“Oh, hi,” August’s voice came. “Oh… you two. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. We’ve missed you,” Rosh responded.

“Did Simon invite you?”

“We have to get out of here,” Wilhelm said. 

Simon was looking around in a panic, picking up the clothes and shoving them back in the laundry bag. “Oh, shit, oh shit…”

“But we haven’t found it,” Sara hissed, still going through the wardrobe.

“Sara, there’s no time,” Simon hissed, checking that the laundry bag looked the same way as before.

“It has to be here!”

“Sara, we don’t-”

But Sara was now going through the drawers again. 

“The coast is clear, guys, you need to get out,” Maddie said. “Get out now.”

“… waiting for them. Don’t worry, we’re not here to do a repeat of last time, if that’s what you’re worried about. Though… you never know.”

“Hilarious,” August responded with an audible sneer.

“Wait, August,” Felice said. 

“What do we do?” Simon asked, trying to help Sara go faster. Wilhelm checked other parts of the room. He tried to think like August, he really did. Where would he hide something like that? But his mind was buzzing with panic, going into fight, flight or freeze. 

If push came to shove, August would walk through that door, and Wilhelm would head-butt him unconscious and then they’d make their escape. 

“What?”

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That you bought back Rousseau?”

There was a pause. 

“Where did you hear that?”

“Is it?”

“Who told you?”

“Never mind. It’s true, isn’t it? You bought him back? For her?”

There was a long silence. 

“Yes, what’s it to you? You didn’t want it anymore.”

“That’s not the fucking point.”

“It’s none of your business, Felice.”

“It is my business, because…” Felice trailed off.

“Because what?”

“Because I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“You’re scrambling. You’re desperate for someone who knows exactly what you are and what you’ve done to still be on your side despite of it.”

There was a derisive chuckle. “You say that like Sara isn’t responsible for her own actions. She knew exactly what she was doing.”

Wilhelm glanced at Sara over his shoulder. She stopped for a moment in her search to listen.

“And you’re not even friends anymore, are you? So why do you care?” August added.

“Because of you, because you manipulated her.”

“No, no no no. Don’t blame me for what she did, okay? Everyone here has done some shit to protect themselves, I’m not taking responsibility for shit I didn’t do,” August shot back. “Sara is perfectly capable to respond for herself, isn’t she?”

Sara and Simon were looking at each other, but then Simon kept working, arms deep in one of the drawers. Sara returned to flipping each shoe and checking inside. 

“Oh, shit someone else is coming,” Rosh said in the smallest whisper possible.

“What? Who?” Wilhelm asked.

“I don’t know who they are. But they must be from your boarding house, because they just went inside.”

“Shit, they’re coming up the stairs,” Maddie said. “Oh fuck, oh shit.”

“Maddie, hide,” Wilhelm hissed. There was a rustling on the line. “Why the fuck did everybody suddenly show up? We need to get out. Simon, Sara, we need to leave. Let’s put everything back.”

“… worry anymore, because I’m getting rid of it,” August was saying. “I have a buyer coming by in less than an hour, I hope they can take it off my hands.”

“What?” Felice asked. “You’re selling him?”

“Sara didn’t want it, did she?”

“It’s really not here…” Sara muttered. 

“Okay, let’s go now,” Simon whispered, as he finished checking the wardrobe and closed the doors. 

“Wait, no! Don’t come out! Whoever came upstairs is still in the corridor,” hissed Maddie.

“Shit…” Simon murmured. “What if August comes upstairs?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as the coast is clear.”

“Felice, stall him,” Wilhelm hissed. 

“Humperdick is really pissed at her, I don’t know how much longer she can keep him here,” Rosh muttered.

August and Felice were still arguing.

“… treat everything and everyone like that. As soon as they learn the truth about you, about the way you are, right? Because you’re so fucking insecure, it’s pathetic. That’s why you kissed her when we were still going out-”

“Oh shit, are you still pissed about that?” August laughed. Felice chuckled.

“No, I’m really not. But there’s a reason why you’re not together anymore, either. Despite what she did, despite what you tried to do, despite your ‘generous’ gift. It’s because she finally saw right through you. Didn’t she? Everyone eventually does.”

Another long silence in the line.

“Felice and August dated?” Ayub asked in the smallest whisper. 

“Are you done?” August asked. “Nice to see you again, enjoy your time here,” he added in a mock polite voice. 

“No! Come back! Let’s hang!” Rosh shouted after him sardonically. 

“Shit, he’s going in,” Ayub muttered. 

“He’s going upstairs, guys. You need to leave,” Rosh warned them.

“Maddie, is the coast clear?” Wilhelm asked.

“Wait… wait… okay, now it is. But… I don’t think you guys can make it. He’ll see you… he’s coming up.”

Wilhelm could barely hear over the thumping of his heart in his chest. It was a stupid plan, it was a crazy idea, and it all went to shit within minutes, and he fucked up and—

“I have an idea,” Sara said. “It will give us more time.” She glanced at herself in the mirror, and adjusted the hair over her ears.

“What are you doing? Sara…”

“Please trust me,” she said, grabbing the doorknob. “Just… hide, just in case.”

Simon started scrambling for words, but Sara shushed him and walked out the door and closed it. 

Wilhelm and Simon stood, frozen, staring at the door.

“Shit,” Wilhelm hissed. 

Simon looked around for an escape route. He tugged at Wilhelm’s sleeve and dashed toward the bed.

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Felice asked. 

“Maddie, where are you?” Rosh whispered.

“I’m in the bathroom, it’s empty,” Maddie whispered back.

“Where’s Sara? Simon, Wille, where are you?” Felice hissed.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Wilhelm mouthed.

Simon dropped to the floor and crawled under the bed, gesturing for Wilhelm to follow, and completely disappeared from view. 

“Come on,” he hissed, hand poking out from underneath to beckon him. 

Wilhelm scrambled after him. crawling in as fast as he could, accidentally kicking Simon. He lay on his stomach, arms tucked awkwardly under his chest, trying to make himself as narrow as possible.

“Sara?” August’s voice came in his earphone. 

“Hi…”

“What… what are you doing here?”

Wilhelm could hear the nervousness in Sara’s voice. He could hear also his own pulse thundering in his ears. 

“I was waiting for a while… I was debating whether to talk to you again…” She paused. “Can we talk?”

“Oh, now you want to talk?”

“I heard that Rousseau was here.”

A small chuckle. “Right. Marcus told you.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you tell Felice?”

“Felice is not speaking to me.”

“Listen, I heard you loud and clear, and I’m struggling enough as it is, so I’m just gonna get rid of him as soon as possible-”

“What?”

“I might have a buyer, he’s coming today. I have to go meet him. And maybe we can forget about this whole thing. Okay?”

“You’re-”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get ready-”

“I want to see him.”

“What?”

“I still don’t want Rousseau… but… c-could I see him? One last time?”

“You can go see him whenever you want, nobody’s stopping you.”

“No, he’s… he’s not mine.”

“He was supposed to be.”

“Not like that.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Wait, can we please talk?”

“You really want to talk?”

“Wait, please-”

The door opened. August’s shoes entered. Wilhelm held his breath. 

“I have to shower, or at least change, so I don’t have much time, they’re supposed to be here soon,” August said.

“I- I didn’t mean here-”

“Why not here?”

“I… I don’t know if I want to be alone… with you.”

“Sara, I’m not gonna touch, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay…”

Sara’s hesitant feet came into view. 

“I’m assuming that you guys didn’t get caught,” Rosh said in a careful whisper. “Otherwise I suppose we’d be hearing August’s last gasping breaths, as Wille or Simon finally strangle him-”

“Rosh, be quiet, I want to hear,” Felice said. 

Wilhelm felt Simon moving carefully but he couldn’t see what he was doing. He was afraid to move at all. His eyes were focused on the back of Sara’s sneakers, which came up beside him as she gently sat down on the bed. At least it was Sara and not August, but the mattress still dipped dangerously close to his head.

“Who is the buyer?” Sara asked. 

“I think it’s the husband of an aspiring Olympian,” August answered. “The guy I’ve been talking to is the trainer. I hope I can close the deal as soon as possible.”

“So, hopefully it’s someone who will take good care of him.”

“Sara, if I’m honest, I don’t really give a fuck. You obviously don’t care enough either, otherwise you would have accepted the gift.”

“It’s not a gift if it has a condition attached to it.”

“What condition was it?”

“To make up for what you did.”

August scoffed. “No. It wasn’t. I bought the horse before any of that. When you told me how heartbroken you were that Felice sold him. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Wilhelm watched as August’s top fell to the ground, and momentarily panicked. But then the wardrobe door opened. He hoped nothing looked out of place. 

“Why did you come here?” August asked. “What made you want to talk to me now?” He paused. “Is it really just about Rousseau?”

Sara didn’t answer. Her foot bobbed up and down.

“Does Simon know you’re here?”

Another pause. 

“Simon is not talking to me,” Sara said in a small voice. “I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me for what I did. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.” She let out a trembling sigh. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, kind of… reevaluating what I want. Why I did what I did.”

August sighed too.

“I’ve been doing that myself, a lot of introspection,” he said. It looked like he was leaning against the wall or the desk. “I don’t know where I stand now, with the Royal Court. Or with anyone.” Another sigh. “I’ve been trying to make better decisions.”

“Like what?”

August didn’t answer.

“Have you tried to… fix anything?” she asked. “Have you… spoken with Wille?”

Still no answer. 

“Have you… tried to get help?”

Nothing. 

Wilhelm felt the bed shift above his head. 

“I see… Forget it, it was stupid to come here.” Sara stood up. Her feet moved toward the door.

“Wait,” August said, taking a couple of steps toward her. “Why did you come here? Hmm? You obviously must have a reason.”

“I… don’t know. I guess, I was trying to see if anything has changed with you.”

“To see if you can trust me again?”

“That depends. What happens if… if Simon goes to the police anyway? What would you do?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“It’s… it’s still a possibility, isn’t it?”

“Sara, what are you doing?” Felice whispered.

August sighed. “I don’t know, Sara… I really hope he doesn’t, it would not look good. For one thing he doesn’t have enough evidence, and it would be really bad if the crown prince’s boyfriend tried to accuse his cousin of a crime. Because it would also reveal that the Royal Court knew that I posted the video and yet did nothing about it.” He stepped back. “So it would be better if we all finally move on from that, okay?”

“Better for you,” she said. August sighed again.

“Sara, what do you want me to say? I already told you before that I’m not proud of what I did. But I can’t undo it, and it will do no one any good to just restart all the drama about the video, more than it already has… And Simon and Wille are fine, aren’t they? They can be together now, the Royal Court supports them, the media, the public loves them apparently… they’re fine. They’re happy.”

“You really think they’re happy?” 

“I don’t know. It’s not like I’m the first person they’d tell, am I?”

“Are you happy?”

Another pause. 

“Why do you ask?”

“Will you still be happy just being Wille’s spare the rest of your life? Will you be happy in the military for years, being told what to do, building up your image of the perfect spare? Will you be happy having your whole life dictated by the Royal Court? Sacrificing your freedom, your individuality, your choices? Is that what happiness is to you?”

August fell quiet. 

“Or… will you only be happy if all that ends up serving a purpose? If you do end up being the next in line? If Wille gets out of the way?”

“What are you implying?”

“It just seems that you’ve done a lot in the name of protecting the Royal Family, but… but that doesn’t seem to involve him. In fact, it seems to be at the expense of a lot of people that you claim to care about.”

August stepped a bit closer to her. “Listen, I know that you’re still upset, and I don’t expect you to get over it any time soon. But just because I tried to cover my own ass, doesn’t mean that I want something bad to happen to him. Or that I don’t care about you.”

“Actually, August, that’s exactly what it means,” Sara’s voice was trembling. August stepped even closer to her. 

“Sara, I love you,” he whispered.

There was a long silence. 

“You said that you love me, didn’t you? I love you too.”

Sara inhaled sharply.

“It’s really scary to see what you do to the people you say you love,” she said, her voice thick. “You can’t even keep your promises.”

August let out a breath. “What?”

“Did you love him too?”

August hesitated. “That’s… I mean, I don’t think we’ve ever really gotten along… and we probably never will, but… he’s my cousin.”

“I meant Erik.”

Wilhelm felt a cold shiver run down his back. There was a long pause. August took a step back.

“I- what?” he said, his voice strangled.

“You loved him a lot more than you do Wille, didn’t you?” Sara continued. “And yet… and yet you broke your promise to him… you promised to him that you would take care of Wille, didn’t you? And then… you did the exact opposite… when he most needed you.”

“Why… why are you… saying these things? Why are you being like this?”

“Because you still don’t get it. I did the same thing to Simon as you did to Wille, but at least I know and I feel terrible. You… you’re still making excuses. You still don’t get it. And you never will.”

August’s breathing was audible. 

“Sara, please…” 

“Just take me to Rousseau, please,” Sara sniffled. “I want to see him again before you sell him.”

There was another long pause. 

“Please,” Sara repeated. August let out a trembling sigh, and sniffed.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

The door opened, Sara and August walked through it, and it closed again. The room was silent. 

“Where did you guys go?” Felice finally asked, her voice very small. She sounded like she was walking. 

Wilhelm was too scared to talk for a moment, fearing that August had tricked them into thinking he was gone. He also felt like maybe his voice stopped working. 

“Under the bed,” he finally whispered.

“Are you serious?”

“Did they leave?”

“We moved to the side of the building so they wouldn’t see us. Yes, they just left.” 

Simon nudged Wilhelm to move. Wilhelm could barely feel his body, his limbs felt like cooked spaghetti. His heart was still racing, thumping loudly in his ears. 

“Did you guys hear that? Man, he’s such a snake,” Rosh hissed.

“And he basically confessed to leaking the video,” Ayub stated.

“Did someone record that? Please tell me someone did,” Madison said in a low voice.

“I did,” Simon announced, as Wilhelm held out a hand to help him up. Wilhelm’s eyes widened.

“You did?” 

Simon proudly displaying his phone, and the open audio recordings app. 

“Simon, you’re the best,” Wilhelm said, hugging him. “Maddie, is the coast clear?”

The door opened again, and they both jumped.

“Scooby Doo, where are you?” Madison grinned.

“Shit, Maddie, you scared the fuck out of me,” Wilhelm said, breathing hard.

“Of us,” Simon said, clutching at his chest. 

Maddie gestured toward the bed. “Can’t believe you both fit down there. Wille, you’re getting thicker from fencing than you ever did from rowing. How did your ass get in there?”

“Guys, you have to get out of there before someone sees you,” Felice said. 

“But we still don’t have the pills,” Simon asked, looking around frantically. 

“They’re not here anymore. He put them somewhere else,” Wilhelm said. 

“Where?”

“We have to find his evil lair,” Maddie muttered.

“Maddie, don’t start…”

Wilhelm perked up. “Wait. Maddie, that’s actually genius.”

“Oh, is it?” 

Wilhelm nodded. “There is actually an evil lair. And I have the key. Come with me.”

They stopped by Wilhelm’s room to retrieve his key to the Society’s room in the palatset, and their coats.

“You guys, this photo is too much, I can’t even with you,” Madison said, snatching the picture on Wilhelm’s mirror. “This is sickeningly, tooth-rotting sweet.”

“We have to go.”

They joined the others outside. 

“Sara, can you still hear us?” Simon asked. 

They all fell silent. On the line, there was only the sound of steps. 

“Say something like, um… ask him how many potential buyers he has,” Felice said.

There was silence in the line.

Then Sara spoke up. “How many potential buyers do you have?” 

“Just the one,” August answered. “The other guy can’t make it. I’ll get back to him if this one-”

“Okay, Sara, we’re going to check the palatset,” Wilhelm said. “We’ll let you know when we’re done.” 

“If you heard that, say that you hope that this one is not an asshole like the other buyer,” Felice added.

A silence. Then, “I hope that this person is not an asshole, like the other buyer.”

They started toward the palatset, in silence, listening in for August or Sara, but they seemed to be walking in silence too.

“What the fuck is this place?” Rosh asked. They followed Wilhelm into the room in the back of the palatset, leaving the door ajar behind them.  In the fading daylight, with no lights on, the room looked extra depressing, the mismatched furniture and decor and the grimy window panes certainly giving it a neglected feel. On the wooden-panelled wall, the Forest Ridge emblem looked out of place. 

Wilhelm sighed and shrugged. “This is where the Society meets.”

Maddie shook her head. “Well, this is underwhelming for being the Pit of Despair.” 

Rosh chuckled. “Hah, I got that reference.”

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. “Everyone in the Society has a key to this room. And this is where August told me to meet him, where he showed me the bottle. Maybe he keeps it here now,” he said, and started looking around.

It was getting dark, so they had to find it quick before they couldn’t see anymore; they didn’t want to turn on any lights that might attract attention. 

“I’ve looked underneath everything.”

“I looked behind everything.”

“Is there a chance there’s like a secret panel? Or oooh, a safe behind one of these pictures?” Maddie said excitedly. 

“It’s not here either,” Simon said, trying to put all the books back in the right place. “It’s not… here. He couldn’t have…”

Sara’s voice suddenly came through the phone again.

“I should head home…”

“… the buyer…?” came August’s faint voice. It sounded like Sara was walking away.

“No, I really shouldn’t,  it’s not my decision anyway, I just… never mind. Thank you for letting me come.”

“Sara, wait…”

“August, I… no, please, I have to go. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Wait. Sara… please.”

“Get out of there, Sara,” Simon whispered. 

“August… please, let me go.” There was a long silence. “I have to go.”

They heard her footsteps, and nothing more. 

They all stood around the secret room, static, silent. 

Simon finally sighed. “Maybe we should just leave. We can meet Sara by Forest Ridge, and you guys can give her a ride home.” 

Rosh, Ayub, Madison and Felice shook their heads. 

“No way, it’s got to be somewhere,” Felice stated, looking around frantically. “We’ve done all this, we can’t stop now. We just have to… think like August.”

“Ew,” Maddie said.

Rosh searched a chair. “We’ve come all this way, man, we have to keep looking.” 

“Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe he keeps it in his locker or something,” Simon said. 

“Where he wouldn’t be able to deny it if someone searched it? No, it’s in there. It’s where he showed it to me, it’s the perfect place. Only few people have access, and the Society hasn’t met in months, not since Alexander got caught,” Wilhelm stated. 

“Not that you know,” Felice said. “Maybe they’ve been meeting without you.” She started knocking on the wall, like she expected to find a loose panel or something. 

“What if Alexander has it?” Simon pointed out.

Wilhelm shook his head slowly. “I doubt it.”

“Do you think Vincent knows? About everything?” Felice asked. Wilhelm shrugged.

“Good question.”

They all looked around the whole place again. Rosh groaned loudly as she checked the underside of the last chair. 

“What do we do?” Ayub asked. 

Simon stood in the middle of the room, staring into nothing. Wilhelm put his hands on his shoulders and tried to meet his gaze.

“Simon, it’s okay, we’ll try again some other time.”

“No, forget it,” Simon responded, shaking his head. “I don’t want to do this anymore. We’ve done a lot of things we shouldn’t be doing, looking through his stuff, trying to cover my own ass. I’m… no better than him. I’m just like him.”

Wilhelm shook his head too. “No, stop. Please don’t say that. You’re not.”

“You’re really not,” Felice echoed. 

Sara came in just then, making everyone jump. 

“Sorry,” she said, looking a bit shaken. 

“What happened?” Simon said. 

“The buyer got delayed, and August was going to wait for him because Marcus wasn’t around. I told him I had to go home.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. It was… so weird. He was, like, on edge.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “Any luck?”

“None,” said Wilhelm, shaking his head in frustration. He pulled out his phone and shut off the group chat call. 

“Why do you think it’s here?” Sara asked. 

Wilhelm threw up his arms. “Because this is where he-”

“Oh so this is what you were really up to.”

Sara jumped and turned. Wilhelm looked past her to find August at the door.

Everyone froze. Rosh scrambled to her feet. 

August was looking around at all of them with a feigned surprised expression on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” Wilhelm asked. August smirked. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I followed Sara. She said she was going home, but then she took a little detour. And I wondered what was up at the palatset that she had to get to. And sure enough… something was up.”

Sara didn’t say anything. 

August crossed his arms. “This is very interesting, I think we were all under the impression that Sara was not in good terms with her brother, nor with her best friend Felice.” He walked further into the room. “Simon, I see your thugs are still around. And Madison, hi, did not expect to see you here.”

“Well, I didn’t want to miss it in case you got your ass handed to you,” Maddie said boldly.

“Why? Is Simon going to sit on him again?” Rosh asked.

“Shit, did that really happen? I’d pay good money to see that.”

“I wish we had recorded it,” Rosh said.

August nodded, unamused now.

“So… you’ve brought everyone into this?” he asked, looking directly at Wilhelm and Simon. “That’s how desperate you are?”

“Not any more desperate than the guy clinging to his last chance to blackmail them or fuck them over,” Rosh said. 

August sneered at her. “If I wanted to fuck them over, I would have done so already.” 

“But you can’t, can you? You’re not in a great position. After all, you don’t know where you stand with the Royal Court. Or with anyone,” Felice said, making August’s sneer turn into a grimace.

“Did you bug my room or something?” 

“Let’s just say that we have some interesting evidence,” Ayub piped up. 

“Well, I have more damning evidence, don’t I?”

“Do you? So you think it’s still safe?” Maddie asked in a bit of a sing-song voice, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

August looked at her and chuckled, but as he looked around at all of them, Wilhelm caught it, and so did the others: August’s eyes seemingly stopping somewhere beyond Rosh and Ayub, something in the area behind them. They all turned to look, and Sara was the first one to move toward the bookcase in the corner, by the window. 

“Ooh, you need to work on your poker face…” Maddie tutted. 

August instinctively stepped toward Sara.

“Oh, hey,” Rosh said, as she and Ayub moved to block him. He stopped, watching as Sara searched the objects on it. They had already searched that part thoroughly, but Sara picked up the spinning disco ball lamp and tried to turn it on. It didn’t light up despite being plugged in. 

Wilhelm and Simon approached as Sara turned it over, and tried to jiggled the bottom open, and found nothing inside. But then the ball dropped to the floor. Whatever was inside of it that usually made it work and light up was gone. Inside the tube that connected the disco ball to the base, perfectly fitted in, was a white pill bottle.

Sara was breathing hard as she pulled out the bottle with the prescription label with trembling hands and read it. She looked up at August, frowning, and handed Simon the pill bottle. It didn’t rattle anymore, all the contents gone. 

Simon stared at it, tears suddenly in his eyes. 

“Jesus, you really are a villain cliché,” Maddie murmured, shaking her head at August.

August looked as tense as he had been that day on the field, with Wilhelm pointing the gun at him.  

“What are you going to do? Disappear it? Destroy it? Hmm?” he asked. “That doesn’t erase the fact that your boyfriend dealt drugs and if I have to expose him, then I will. Someone like that doesn’t belong in the royal family.”

“You mean my family?” Wilhelm asked, finally speaking up, walking back to August, facing him squarely. “Do you think you belong in the royal family? You posted child pornography, and have been scrambling to cover your ass ever since.”

“And you threw your dear classmate Alexander under the bus and accused him of drug dealing. All to protect your boyfriend, who stole prescription drugs from his own father,” August growled. “Face it, you two are no better than me.”

“Granted, we’ve done questionable things, but it was to protect each other. You did all the shit you’ve done to take advantage of others and get revenge and protect yourself,” Wilhelm spat back. “You fucking tried to destroy my life just because you were upset that I talked about your financial issues in front of the people whom you call your peers, because you needed to feel superior.”

August sniffed loudly, nostril flaring. “So I deserved to be humiliated because I was putting up a front, didn’t I?”

Wilhelm shook his head. “No, you deserved to be humbled. It clearly had the opposite effect, though.” He shook his head. “What did I do after that, August? Tell them what I did.”

August didn’t say anything.

“Tell them,” Wilhelm repeated a bit more forceful. 

August’s jaw was clenched. 

“I helped you,” Wilhelm finally said. “I asked my mother if we could help pay your tuition, so that you could remain at Hillerska.”

“Bullshit, you did it so that I wouldn’t expose Simon or you.”

“No. I didn’t need to do that. You had already paid Simon back, and paying for your tuition wasn’t exactly going to get you to not want to make Simon the scapegoat anyway. To keep Alexander happy, and protect the Society, right?”

“Then you should have told me what you were doing, instead of dragging me in front of the others,” August hissed. 

“Why? So that you wouldn’t post the video that I didn’t even know you had recorded? So that you’d feel indebted to me? Because that’s how things work with you, right? Everything is a quid pro quo with you, isn’t it? If I had known that you were going to fuck me over, I would have, yes. I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t supposed to be a grand gesture, or an opportunity to blackmail you. It was supposed to just be a good thing. Because you were my cousin. Because it’s what Erik would have done.” 

August blanched. Wilhelm shook his head.

“If only Minou had called you a few minutes earlier, then maybe you wouldn’t have done what you did. Because she called you, didn’t she? To let you know that everything was taken care of. She called you just a little while after you posted the video from your phone, the phone that was in your possession the whole time, not in Alexander’s. Because Felice has proof that the video was taken with your phone, and Sara saw you in the library, and Minou has a record of calling you and speaking with you just as the video was starting to make the rounds online…” 

Wilhelm felt himself begin to tremble as he spoke, as he stared into August’s face, as he felt anger bubble inside him and relief wash over him, and a cathartic sense of finality. His face felt hot, his mouth felt hot, and his vision blurred with scalding tears.

“You’re a fucking liar and manipulative and vindictive and fucking cruel… and no matter what you do, no matter whatever you try to get out of it, the fact still remains that you FUCKING BETRAYED ME!” Wilhelm shouted, unable to control himself any longer. “YOU POSTED CHILD PORN OF YOUR OWN COUSIN! YOU OUTED ME TO THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD! YOU’VE MADE MY FUCKING LIFE HELL! BECAUSE YOU FELT HUMILIATED! BECAUSE YOU NEED TO MAKE PEOPLE FEEL LIKE LESS THAN YOU!”

He felt his chest heaving, he felt the hot tears running down his face. He wiped them away with his sleeve and sniffled loudly and tried to breathe deeply to calm down. But at no point did he stop looking at August, at the cold frown looking back at him. 

“I can’t do anything about what you already did… but I’m not letting you get away with this any longer,” he added, feeling out of breath. His head was beginning to hurt. 

In front of him, August seemed suddenly smaller, meeker. 

“What are you going to do, then?” he asked in a low, grave voice. “Report me? Put me in jail?” 

Wilhelm shook his head, sniffling. “I don’t know. Probably not. Because then the Royal Court becomes implicated for keeping the information secret.” He gestured toward Simon and the pill bottle. “But at least you can’t hold this over our heads anymore.”

August nodded lightly, jaw still clenched, looking around at the others. 

“And you’re all just cool with it? You’re all part of this now, you don’t mind being involved?”

“Involved in what?” Felice said. 

Rosh and Ayub shrugged. 

“We’re just coming back from hanging out by the lake,” Maddie said casually. 

August seemed to stare at Sara in particular. Wilhelm couldn’t see what Sara was doing, but from the look on August’s face, he was still processing her involvement. 

It was getting dark, and all the adrenaline had gone out of him, and he was tired and his legs felt like jelly, and he just wanted to go back. 

“Just leave,” Simon spoke up. “For fuck’s sake, just go away and leave us alone.”

August glowered at him, nodding lightly, and walked backward for a bit before turning to leave. He froze past the threshold. 

Wilhelm froze too, eyes widening.

Over August’s shoulder, he spotted Nils, half-hidden behind a beam and a stack of pallet crates. His face was blank, lips slightly parted. 

“Nisse,” August started, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “What… what are you doing here?” 

It took Nils a few seconds to answer. “I was out for a run nearby… and I heard voices.”

Wilhelm could feel his hearthbeat thundering in his ears again, in the deafening silence.

“Did you hear… any of that?” August asked.

Nils seemed to be processing everything and everyone. He stared directly at Wilhelm before looking back at August.

“It’s true, then? It was you?” he finally said, his voice small. “You posted the video?” Something dark crossed his face. “You outed him?”

August shook his head weakly.

“I…”

Nils met Wilhelm’s eyes again for a moment. He didn’t wait for an answer and turned to leave. 

It felt like forever before anyone else moved. August stood there, swaying lightly on his feet, his back to the room. 

Wilhelm was trembling lightly. He jumped a bit when someone came up beside him, but relaxed when he felt Simon’s hand sliding into his own. He looked at him, at the somber look on his face. Over his shoulder, Sara was putting the lamp back together somewhat and replacing it on the bookcase. 

Simon tugged slightly at his hand, and Wilhelm felt his shaky legs carry him forward, out of the room, around a static August. Their friends followed them. Once they were all out, Wilhelm locked the door and put the key in his pocket, and walked out of the palatset.

August didn’t move.

Once outside, Simon handed the pill bottle to Ayub, who put it in his jacket pocket without a word. 

They walked in silence back to Forest Ridge, stepping carefully around tree roots and fallen branches, holding on to each other for support and guidance in the dark. They gathered around Rosh and Ayub’s bikes, still parked near the entrance to the building, awkwardly looking at each other.

“We’ll take you home,” Rosh said to Sara, who nodded.

“I have to go get my stuff from my locker.”

“We should delete the group chat soon,” Felice suggested.

“I’ll do a backup and delete it tonight,” Maddie said. 

Ayub patted his pocket. “We’ll let you know as soon as this is done.”

They stood in silence.

“I didn’t know he had followed me… I’m sorry…” Sara said suddenly, her voice breaking, eyes filling with tears.

Simon shook his head. “No, it’s… you did really good…”

They all hesitantly started saying goodbye and hugging. Felice hugged Sara awkwardly, but held on a bit longer. Simon and his sister stood in front of each other for a moment before Simon finally hugged her. Sara clutched at his back, tears spilling down her cheeks. Wilhelm hugged her too, briefly, thanking her quietly. 

“I don’t know how to thank you all,” Wilhelm said tensely. Their friends shook their heads dismissively. 

“I’m just glad we could help,” Ayub said. “Maybe we can all finally put this behind us.”

“That would be great,” Felice agreed.

“Maybe next time we all get together, we’ll actually do something fun…?” Maddie asked. 

“Yes, please,” Rosh replied. “Let’s do something chill.”

Ayub and Rosh followed Sara back to the school building, walking their bikes. Felice and Madison lingered there for a moment.

Wilhelm glanced back at the Forest Ridge building, at all the lights on in the rooms. Most people were probably back from their activities and getting ready for dinner. 

He wondered if Nils was back.

“Want me to talk to him?” Maddie asked, as if she had read his mind. Wilhelm stared at her for a moment. 

“No, I… I think I will.”

“What are you going to say to him?” Felice asked.

Wilhelm shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

He and Simon went inside and headed straight to Simon’s room. He realized that was where they both felt safest most of the time. 

Simon took off his jacket and sat on the edge of his bed, staring into space. He looked numb. Wilhelm shed his coat and leaned against the desk across from him. He grabbed his hands.

“What happens now?” Simon asked in a small voice. Wilhelm sighed.

“I don’t know… I hope that… that now we can just be… us.”

In a couple of months, August would graduate, and hopefully there would be enough distance between them so that Wilhelm didn’t have to think about him again. It was the least he hoped for. 

Simon was silent. Wilhelm lifted one of his hands to his lips and kissed his knuckles, before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

He went upstairs to the first room on the left, the one he suspected was Nils. He knocked on the door.

After a few seconds, Nils opened. 

“Hey,” he greeted him, slightly surprised.

“Hey,” Wilhelm echoed. “Can we talk for a second?”

Nils opened the door wider to let him in. Wilhelm glanced discreetly around. The room was pretty tidy except for a mess of notes stuck to the wall over the desk and piles of books on the desk. There was a family photo on the window sill. 

He turned back to Nils, who stood by the door, arms crossed. He gestured for Wilhelm to sit. 

“Um… what did you want to talk about?”

Wilhelm sighed and took the desk chair, rubbing his thighs tensely.

“I don’t know… I guess I just wanted to see how you were.”

Nils raised his eyebrows. “Me?” 

“Yeah.”

The older boy let out a scoff and rubbed his face.

“Shit, Wille…. I don’t know… I really don’t know…” He took a deep breath, hands on his hips. “How long have you known?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Wilhelm shrugged.

”Fuck… that long?”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Nils suddenly looked apprehensive. “Were you gonna ask me if I knew?”

“No,” Wilhelm shook his head. 

Nils ran a hand through his hair, still processing.

Wilhelm stared at his clothes. Nils was still wearing his running shoes. “Were you really out for a run?”

Nils bit his lip. “Sort of…” he started. “We were in the middle of training when August started leaving, saying something about seeing a man about a horse. We all thought he was joking, but he really took off, and I don’t know if he was planning to come back at all… Vincent got pissed and told us all to fuck off, complaining that he ended up being the captain of the worse rowing team in Hillerska history, and that he no longer gave a fuck if we embarrassed ourselves in the competition.”

He sat down at the edge of the bed, and finally toed his shoes off. “Well, since we were already supposed to be training, I decided to go for a run on my own. I came to get my headphones, and as I was leaving, I heard the distinct New York accent of Madison McCoy out in the corridor, and I peeked outside and saw you guys coming out of August’s room. So I… kind of followed you. To see what you were up to. I thought maybe it was a prank you were playing on him, so I stood outside the palatset waiting to spook you. Then Sara came, and I guess August had followed her. And since nobody came back out and I couldn’t hear anything, I snuck in, to see what was going on… and I overheard you guys talking.” He let out a tired sigh. “I didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t that…”

Wilhelm nodded slowly. “So… you really didn’t know?”

“About the video?” Nils seemed horrified at the implication. “No! I didn’t know any of it. You don’t really think that I-”

“No, no… sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that…” Wilhelm shook his head. “I believe you.”

Nils rubbed his face again, staring at the wall. 

“I’m not even going to ask why it had to be a secret, because I guess I already know… but…” he suddenly looked broken. “I’m really sorry.”

Wilhelm nodded gently. 

Nils leaned forward slightly. “I know I said… things that made it seem like it’s no big deal, because… I guess there was nothing to do about it anymore, especially since you had denied it at the time, but… But it is. I know it is. And… I’m sorry that it happened to you…”

Something tightened in Wilhelm’s chest. He couldn’t meet Nils’s eyes. 

“Nobody deserves to be outed,” Nils continued. “Especially if the person who does it is someone you know. Someone you… trust.”

“Yeah…” Wilhelm said, because he didn’t know what else to say. 

Had he ever really trusted August? He said he did, because Erik had told him to; Erik had said that August was the person he could turn to for anything he needed. 

His gut, however, had never truly trusted him. Because Wilhelm was not Erik; his brother had been able to trust August, and vice versa, and maybe August would never have done to Erik what he did to Wilhelm. Or maybe it was simply that, as Erik said, Hillerska and his reputation here were all that August had, and he was willing to do anything and fuck over anyone who tried to destroy it. Even family. Even the person whom he had vowed to protect in a stupid secret society oath. 

As Sara had pointed out, even a promise to Erik had been easy for August to break.

“It all makes so much sense now…” Nils suddenly breathed. “This whole time…”

Wilhelm felt uneasy. He wanted to go back to Simon, to get some rest. He stood up slowly.

“Are you gonna be okay?” he asked. Nils still looked confused.

“I should be asking you that…”

Wilhelm shrugged again. He turned to leave, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

“Are you…” 

He trailed off.

Nils blinked. “What?”

Shaking his head, Wilhelm opened the door. “Nothing. Never mind.” He stepped out and closed the door, and stood there in the corridor for a moment. He glanced down toward August’s room before heading back downstairs.

If he asked Nils to not do anything with that information, if he asked him to keep it a secret, he would simply become part of the problem that he’d been fighting against this whole time.

Wilhelm had no idea what would happen now. But he was so tired of fighting this whole thing, that he really just wanted to do nothing, and to see how it played out. And simply hope for the best.

The house was mostly empty, with everyone in the dining hall. Wilhelm came back to Simon’s room.

Simon sat in bed, back against the wall, staring at his phone. 

He had the voice recorder app open, staring at the file recorded earlier, in August’s room. Wilhelm sat next to him and watched as he shared it to the group chat and texted Madison to save it in the backup. He sent it to his own email as well. 

They didn’t speak, just sat beside each other on the bed. Every muscle in Wilhelm’s body hurt, and he had a full headache now. Neither felt hungry at all. Wilhelm didn’t want to go to the dining room anyway, ot see anyone, although he was pretty sure that neither August nor Nils would be there either.

About fifteen minutes later, a message came in the group chat.

- it’s done - Ayub texted.

Wilhelm felt Simon convulse with a sob beside him. He wrapped him in a hug just as Simon began to weep. Wilhelm felt his own eyes fill with tears, letting them spill as he kissed Simon’s temple over and over, rocking him slightly, trying to comfort him. 

He felt physically and mentally exhausted, and angry and relieved and unsettled all at once. 

- mission accomplished - Maddie wrote.

Madison McCoy deleted this group.

Neither August nor Nils showed up for breakfast on Wednesday.

Nobody except a fuming Vincent remarked on the two empty seats at the end of the table. 

Wilhelm still felt sick enough that he could barely eat. 

Between classes, he didn’t catch a glimpse of either of them. Felice and Madison kept an eye on them, trying to rope them into talking about normal things, like what they would do during Easter, and planning something fun with Rosh and Ayub when they got back. 

“You okay?” Felice asked them both. 

“Ask me again in about a week,” Simon responded. Wilhelm said nothing. 

Sara seemed more withdrawn than usual throughout the day, to the point that Felice leaned over and asked her if she was okay. Sara nodded weakly. Immediately after class, Stella and Fredrika asked Felice what that was about. Felice ignored them.

Nils reappeared during dinner. Only Vincent obnoxious demanded to know why he skipped class.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wilhelm watched as August walked into the dining hall and stopped. He and Nils barely met each other’s eyes. August grabbed a plate of food and walked back out the way he came, before anyone could speak to him. 

“What the fuck is up with him now?” Vincent asked loudly. 

Nobody responded. 

On Thursday, something finally happened.

People saw Boris approach August outside the school building, and talk to him, before leading him to the headmistress’ office. After a long meeting, Anette and Göran accompanied him back to Forest Ridge house, August looking shaken. Bystanders and onlookers came around to catch whatever they could through the closed door, hearing August argue and shout inside his room. After a while, people saw a car pull up to Forest Ridge, and August reluctantly left on it, bags in hand. 

Vincent, of all people, was seen trying to intervene, demanding to know what was happening, cursing when the car drove away. 

Rumors spread that either something had happened to someone in August’s family, or most likely that August had been suspended. But nobody knew why. Speculations abounded on whether he had been caught with drugs, like Alexander the previous year, or if it had something to do with cheating or plagiarism or-

“Or Sara Eriksson,” someone in the library was saying. “Or the video.”

Wilhelm froze in the next table, his back to the gossiping group.

“What? The sex video? I doubt it,” someone else said.

“Why not? It would be a big enough deal.”

“That’s sick. It’s his own cousin. I don’t think so. August is an asshole, but even that’s too low for him.”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t put it past him,” a third person said. 

Wilhelm didn’t want to know. He really didn’t want to know. 

But as people gossiped, they also looked at him, and at Simon. As always they were the center of attention, but it wasn’t people trying to snap candid pictures of them now, but just speculating and sneaking glances at them, trying to see their reactions. 

It was like the video all over again, like the speech all over again… 

Wilhelm wanted to ask Boris about it, but he knew he’d get no answer. He also just wanted to talk to Boris, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to communicate most of what was affecting him, so it would be pointless. Simon felt the same way. Instead, they snuck out that night to Felice and Madison’s room. No movie marathon this time, just laying on the floor, trying to decompress. Wilhelm felt like his head would explode.

“We’ve been reading through the Hillerska website anonymous reporting system. Did you guys know about this?” Felice asked. Both Simon and Wilhelm shook their heads.

“Neither did we,” Maddie said. “Apparently you can report anything, and it’s anonymous, and they have to investigate. Or at least that’s what it says here.”

According to the resources on the website, anyone accused or suspected of harassment, violence, illegal activities or misbehavior would be effectively suspended for the duration of the investigation, which could take up to one or two months, depending on what the investigation required. And because of what it implicated, the investigation could bring a lot of people into the fold that Wilhelm really wished wouldn’t become involved. Like Simon, and Sara, and Felice, and himself. But now also Rosh and Ayub and Maddie and Nils and Alexander… And the Royal Court…

“Do you think Nils reported it? Did he say anything about possibly telling someone?” Maddie asked. 

Wilhelm shrugged, his head pounding. “I don’t know…”

“Do you think that… August might have been suspended then, pending investigation?” Felice asked. 

“I don’t know…” he repeated. It had always been a possibility; it was the very reason why he had asked Minou about it. Because it was always possible that someone else could find out.

“This is what I was afraid of… but at the same time, a part of me hoped that someone would find out, that someone would just take care of it for me… because a part of me just really hoped that he would get what he deserved… but now I’m… I don’t know…”

Simon reached for his hand and squeezed it. 

“I know,” he said, sniffling. “I feel like, I should be glad that someone else knows, someone who probably would understand. But… I really just wanted this to be over. I just… I wanted not to have to think about this anymore.”

That night, Wilhelm didn’t sleep at all. It was like he was going for a world record of most sleepless nights in a row. 

On Friday, between the gossip and the buzz of the Easter break, it was hard to concentrate at all. 

And in the whole aftermath of the plan, Wilhelm had forgotten to check if Farima had replied to him.

Sure enough, on Tuesday night, an email reply from Farima indicated that the Royal Court had discussed it and agreed tentatively that Wilhelm could stay in the Eriksson household until Tuesday midday at the latest, and be taken to Stockholm in time for the afternoon meeting, citing that they needed to make sure he was properly prepared for the events of the following day. She also attached an updated schedule, and the links for the virtual meetings on Monday and Tuesday morning. 

Wilhelm did not reply. He just wanted to get out of Hillerska. He needed a fucking break, away from it all. Away from everyone. 

That evening, however, his phone vibrated incessantly during dinner. Wilhelm checked the screen. It was Minou.

The feeling of impeding doom intensified. 

He put his phone away and continued eating, or trying to eat. His phone started buzzing again. Still Minou. 

“Who is it?” Simon asked, face etched with concerned. Like he knew too. 

Wilhelm shook his head slowly. “I’m… not answering.”

“Would that… not make it worse?”

Wilhelm shrugged. He felt sick. 

They gave up on trying to eat, stood up from the table and headed back to Wilhelm’s dorm room. They had almost finished packing, Wilhelm’s phone buzzing in his pocket. 

He pulled it out, wondering if he should shut it off, when he looked at the name flashing on the screen. It was his mother. 

His breath caught in his throat. Three of the missed calls were from her.

Simon met his gaze for a moment. Wilhelm’s hand was trembling.

“Wilhelm,” Simon called. 

Wilhelm hadn’t heard his mother’s voice in nearly a month, hadn’t spoken to her directly since he had returned from Stockholm. And right now, the last thing he wanted was to hear her say whatever she was going to say. 

So he put the phone on the bed, and let it vibrate until it stopped.

The screen lit up a minute later, with a message.

It was from Minou.

- Wilhelm, please answer your phone.

- Anette Lilja called us this afternoon to discuss a situation that they’re dealing with.

- Whether you answer your phone or not, Her Majesty expects that you will be here tomorrow, to explain, and to deal with the situation. 

- I sincerely hope that neither you nor Simon will have had anything to do with this.

- We will see you tomorrow. 

His heart thumped so loud in his ears that he could barely hear himself think. Simon was staring at him, eyes wide and questioning. Wilhelm showed him the message, and Simon swallowed hard. 

“No… no way, no” Simon said in response.

“Of course not, no way,” Wilhelm agreed. But he rubbed his chest, trying to calm himself down, to no avail. 

He and Simon were up at five in the morning, even after a sleepless night. They were going away for longer, so they brought more stuff. And they would be separated for the first time since they had gotten back together, so Simon packed Wilhelm’s sweater, and Wilhelm packed Simon’s hoodie, and they hoped that would sustain them whilst being apart. 

Wilhelm was not going to Stockholm today. No way.

But when they came out of Forest Ridge, Malin was waiting for them by the entrance. She greeted them as always, but she also looked a bit somber.

“We have instructions from the Royal Court. Joakim is picking up your mother, Simon.”

“What? Why?”

“Her Majesty has asked us to bring you to Stockholm today.”

Notes:

Do you guys remember episode one of season two? When August is by himself in the room during the party, and he has glassware in his hand and he looks weirdly tense and he seems to have a weird tic, and then he smiles at himself in the mirror, and when we saw that scene in the trailer the blue and red light made us thing about the police, but it turned out just to be the disco ball? I can’t stop thinking about the fact that August was there, by himself, and he turned on the disco ball. He is so peculiar.
I like to think that Nils would be messed up enough about finding out his friend, who presumably knows he’s gay, outed his cousin.
My question is: does the Hilleska headmistress, at least, know who the culprit is? Does she know August did it? My theory is that she does. But the other members of the staff do not. More on that later.
I made a mistake in an earlier chapter (more specifically in The bravest boy): since I’ve been an atheist for years, I get all my religious celebrations mixed up. I really thought that Ash Wednesday takes place during Easter week. But I was talking to someone earlier today and they were like “blah blah people misbehaving all they want today because it’s Martes de Carnavales (Carnival Tuesday/Shrove Tuesday/Pancake Day) and tomorrow everyone is pretending to undo all the crazy stuff they did on Ash Wednesday mass…” and I was like “What???? Ash Wednesday is tomorrow????” So, yeah, sorry if that was confusing. I really thought I had it right and didn’t even bother to look it up. Lesson learned. (And happy Ash Wednesday, I guess…)

Chapter 32: I don’t want to be in this on my own…

Summary:

It’s hard, but sacrifices must be made.
Kristina POV (part one of two)

Notes:

Title is a lyric from Elias’s “Let me be the one”.
Apologies for how long it took for this chapter to come out. Major writer’s block, especially when I realized how long this chapter was coming out… So I had to split it into two, and spend extra time making sure that both parts have proper continuity.
TW: anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD, depression, vomiting, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, homophobia, internalized homophobia.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Kristina came into the conference room, her arrival met with a flurry of chairs being pushed back as everyone stood up to greet her. She sat down at the head of the table and gestured for everyone to sit down. 

Hands folded on the table in front of her, she looked to her left at her son. Wilhelm looked paler than usual. But the boy beside him looked positively pallid for someone of his complexion. They both had dark circles under their eyes, Wilhelm’s more noticeable on his fair skin. On Simon’s other side was his mother, Linda, looking tense but collected.

Kristina had not seen her son in a little over a month, since the aftermath of the jubilee event. She had also not seen Simon in just as long. This was also her first time meeting Simon’s mother. Minou and the lawyers had handled most of the matters that had to do with them, so she had not had contact with them at all. 

It’s not that she hadn’t intended to meet them before the actual meeting began. She instructed a footman to invite them all to breakfast with her and Ludvig, but was immediately informed that the crown prince had retired to his room with Simon.

Kristina found it unsurprising, that Wilhelm wouldn’t have breakfast with his parents, nor even bother to come greet them. 

The footman also informed her that Linda Eriksson was with Minou and her assistant Elisa in the anteroom to the conference room, waiting. 

“Is she not having breakfast either?” Ludvig asked. 

“She said she did before leaving Bjärstad,” answered the footman. 

Kristina sent him back to retrieve Wilhelm at a quarter to eight, so that they’d be in time for the eight o’clock meeting. 

“No need. I can do it,” Ludvig announced, finishing his coffee. 

“What do you mean?” Kristina asked.

“I think I’ll go say hi to him before you make him disappear in meetings all day,” he said, pushing his chair back. “And to meet the boyfriend properly, and his mother.” 

Kristina watched him leave the table, adjusting his jacket. She stopped eating and left the morning newspaper aside and just sat there.

If Wilhelm wasn’t coming to her, she wasn’t coming to him either. It was best to reserve her energy for the meeting. As far as she was concerned, there was really no time for pleasantries, and things with Wilhelm rarely were or remained pleasant; she expected him to be as combative as always, over anything and everything.

She had Jan-Olof go over the meeting’s agenda with her; there was only one item on it. 

In the conference room, Minou gestured toward Linda and Simon and introduced them formally, and then proceeded to name everyone around the table for both Linda’s and Simon’s benefit; Jan-Olof, who sat on Kristina’s right, Farima, the public relations officer, Fredrika, the protocol advisor, Magnus from legal counsel, and Minou’s assistant Elisa sat at the end of the table taking notes. 

Kristina waited patiently, looking at them in turn, as they tensely nodded at each person. She looked at Wilhelm; from where she sat, she was keenly aware that he and Simon were holding hands under the table. 

“Apologies for the short notice, but as I’m sure you’re aware by now, a situation has arisen that requires our immediate attention,” Kristina began, clearing her throat. “We have been informed that the school received an anonymous report regarding the viral video from last year. Jan-Olof, if you would please.”

Jan-Olof opened a binder and cleared his throat. “Yesterday morning, headmistress Anette Lilja called to inform us that someone had placed an anonymous report through the school’s reporting system in the Hillerska website, claiming that the person who recorded and published the video taken of the crown prince and Simon last year was August Horn of Årnas. The staff that monitors the reporting system have begun the investigation of this claim, and the first step was to remove August from the school, as the procedure stipulates that the person accused, whereas it be a student, a staff member or a visitor, is banned from the premises and effectively suspended until the investigation is completed.” He closed the binder.

Kristina observed Wilhelm, Simon and Linda in turn. Linda’s eyes were fixed on the table.

“Linda, I gather from your lack of surprise that you already knew,” Kristina said. 

Simon cleared his throat. “I… I told her on the way here,” he started in a small voice. “I had to explain why I… couldn’t tell her before. I mean, technically I did tell her before…”

Linda nodded. “He did tell me before. He told me as soon as he found out who was responsible. This was about a month ago. I was going to take him to the police station, to file a report.”

“And did you?” Kristina inquired.

“No. That day, he… changed his mind. Said he got it wrong.” Linda shook her head slowly. “But I knew he hadn’t gotten it wrong, he just… for some reason, changed his mind about doing a report. And I… didn’t question it.” She touched her son’s arm. “I never question his decisions. Simon is a good, sensible boy, and he’s always trying to do the right thing.”

Simon turned to look at his mother, eyes glistening. 

“Simon?” Kristina began. “How did you find out who was responsible for the video?”

“I told him,” Wilhelm spoke up. “I didn’t tell him before because I knew it was pointless, because you had already covered the whole thing up, but he deserved to know.”

Kristina shot him a discreet look, but Wilhelm looked defiantly at her. 

She cleared her throat again. “If I may explain further,” she started, “the video was already a rather complicated situation, one that brought all parts here a lot of discomfort and caused a lot of upset, I’m sure. There was unfortunately no way to undo it, except to have Wilhelm publicly deny that he appeared on it, since he was more difficult to recognize. By having him do this, we would hopefully minimize the damage, and the attention garnered by the video.”

“But-” Linda jumped, before lowering her voice, “but Simon was still… he was still visible in it. It was obviously him. People recognized him.”

“Yes, unfortunately, but as I said, we hoped that taking attention away from it would help minimize the spread of it.” 

Wilhelm rolled his eyes. Kristina ignored him and continued.

“We carried out an investigation, and we were able to determine the origin of the video, and traced it back to… August. Considering that several days passed from when he recorded the video and when he posted it online, and the fact that we found no signs of a hacked device, we can only assume that it was premeditated. He did it on purpose. For reasons that are still unclear to us, he intended for it to go viral, possibly cause a scandal. Which is why we decided not to do anything about it.”

Linda looked aghast. “Why not?”

“We wanted to minimize the impact. Revealing who was behind it would only attract more media and public attention and cause an even greater scandal, bringing unwanted scrutiny onto Wilhelm and Simon.” 

Wilhelm scoffed. “It was to protect the crown’s reputation, Linda. That was their main goal. They can’t have a family member accused of child pornography, especially of another family member, especially of the crown prince.” He looked back at Kristina. “Even though he’d deserve it.”

“There is no question of that, Wilhelm, never has been, and you know it,” she retorted calmly. “It is, however, about how it affects you both.”

Wilhelm scoffed again. “You want to know how it affected us? How it still affects us? To have to pretend that we know nothing, and that everything is okay between him and us?”

“Of course I know, Wilhelm, but-”

“No, you don’t-”

“-but you have no clue of how much worse it could be,” Kristina stated. Jan-Olof cleared his throat again.

“Your Majesty, if I may.” He turned to Wilhelm. “Crown Prince, you must understand, we do not take these decisions lightly. We have experience managing these types of crises, we analyze every aspect of the situation, and the best way to handle it.”

Wilhelm was glaring daggers at Jan-Olof. “Make that the easiest way to sweep it under a rug.”

“Wilhelm-”

“You basically gave him a little slap on the wrist and then went on and made him my backup, and nothing else happened to him. You just let him off the hook. Worse! You gave him exactly what he’s wanted this whole time! How the f- How do you think that makes us feel?”

Kristina stared cooly at him. 

“We did not let August off the hook. This was simply the best way we found to deal with this, considering everything that the situation involved.” She leaned forward. “Our best hope was that the video would become something of the past, not because we didn’t think August deserved punishment for his actions, but because it would in the long run be more detrimental to you both to have this video become the center of attention again. And we didn’t choose August to be your backup as a reward to him. But it is for now the best solution that we have to a problem that presented itself from the moment that you became crown prince. Which is… there should always be a backup. And right now there is no other viable option besides August.”

Simon stared at the table, brow knitted, jaw clenched, but silent. It surprised Kristina, considering how much she had heard from Minou of his feisty attitude.

Kristina took a deep breath. “But this report puts us in the difficult position of examining and dealing with this problem again, whilst also avoiding bringing unwanted attention onto it,” she added. “And by the looks of it, there is a new person involved, and a whole procedure now to take into consideration.”

She glanced again at Jan-Olof, who reopened the binder and flipped through the pages. Further down the row, the legal counselor Magnus produced a folder and slid it across the table toward Linda. She hesitantly opened it. 

“As you can see, these are the full contents of the anonymous report, plus a breakdown of the next steps of the investigation,” Jan-Olof said. “The staff at the school in charge of the investigation would need to determine if police intervention is necessary, collect evidence and obtain declarations from any person that might have relevant information. This means interviewing the crown prince and Simon for sure, as they are the victims, but possibly other members of Forest Ridge house, friends, classmates, staff members… During the interviews the investigator might have to reveal some confidential details from the report, including the name of the person being accused, at which point anyone who didn’t know of August’s involvement would now become aware of it. And depending on the results of the investigation and the measures taken toward the accused, it would become unavoidably evident.”

“In other words, if we let this investigation run its course, it will be increasingly difficult to guarantee any confidentiality, and thus the risk of details becoming public would increase as well,” he finished.

“And I would like to interject here very quickly,” Magnus spoke up, “and clarify that, because of the nature of the report and the legal implications, if the police become involved, they could question both the crown prince and Simon without their parents or legal guardians, or even a legal advisor present.”

Kristina leaned forward again and looked at Wilhelm and Simon. 

“So,” she said, “in order to determine what to do now, we need the full story. There is a reason why August did what he did, and a reason why someone else suddenly stumbled upon the culprit, and I’m afraid it has something to do with you.”

Simon finally looked up and almost met her eyes.

Wilhelm took a deep breath. “So you expect us to tell you why August hates us so much that he screwed us over? Like it’s justifiable?”

Kristina nodded. “We need to have all the information.”

“Why now?” he asked. “You didn’t care before, you just swept it under the rug.”

“Because this is getting out of our hands again, and we need to do something before we can’t-”

“Cover it up again?”

“Minimize the damage.”

Wilhelm looked around. “Why isn’t he here? To answer for himself. If you really wanted all the information, he’d be here too.” 

Magnus spoke up. “The investigation process stipulates that, besides being suspended, the accused person is banned from having any contact with the victims.”

Wilhelm scoffed. “So? When has that ever stopped you from doing whatever you want? Why are you now doing what the process stipulates?”

Before either Magnus or Jan-Olof could speak, Kristina fixed Wilhelm with a stare. “Because it just so happens that the person who first read the report took matters into their own hands, causing an upheaval in their mission to do everything by the book. And for the sake of the person who made the report, who is presumably a student, the school staff had no choice but to follow the process and suspend August. Which means that we can’t have him here either, in case it were to get out.”

She gestured to Jan-Olof, who produced yet another folder, which she pushed toward Simon. “In the meantime, though, you can start by telling us if the person who presumably filed this report also attempted to file another report directly with Bjärstad police department, before dismissing it only a week later,” she added.

Wilhelm and Simon blanched. 

“This is your sister, Sara Eriksson, isn’t it?” she continued, pointing at the top of the page. “Did she contact the police?”

Wilhelm frowned. “You knew about that?”

“It is standard procedure that any reports regarding any member of the royal family are immediately flagged and reported to the Royal Court,” Jan-Olof interjected. “In this case, the crown prince’s name was the alert.”

“So,” Simon started, finally speaking again, his voice small, “even if she had continued that report, you would have… made it seem like it never existed? Would you have done the same if I had gone to the police?”

“Not necessarily, unless you mentioned the crown prince as one of the victims,” Jan-Olof responded.

“So yes,” Simon added sourly.

“Simon, Linda, you need to understand,” Jan-Olof continued, “we have our own way of handling these issues, that do not necessarily involve police intervention. It is best if things like this do not become public knowledge, and it is not only because of the crown’s reputation, but to avoid media and public scrutiny and attention. You are well aware of how merciless it can become, I’m sure, you saw how photographers hounded Simon, surrounded your house, and how people have been taking pictures of them at school. Something like this would only make things worse. Much worse.”

Simon looked bitterly at him. Kristina was well aware of Simon’s displease with Jan-Olof, thinking him responsible of vetoing the song that Simon had intended to sing at the jubilee, an ill-advised rewrite of the original Hillerska song. Although Minou also pointed out every time that Wilhelm adamantly requested anyone from the Royal Court other than Jan-Olof to attend anything that had to do with him or Simon. Wilhelm also disliked him with a passion.  

Wilhelm breathed deeply again and turned as calmly as he could toward Kristina.

“Mum, we had nothing to do with the report. It was not Sara, nor any of the people who know about this… We think we know who it might be, but they found out on their own accord. It was always a possibility, and you know it. We were not trying to have someone find out. They just did.”

Kristina nodded. “Yes, very possible, since they,” she grabbed the report and read from it, “‘overheard an argument with August, in which he was accused of being responsible for the video’, that there were ‘witnesses and people with proof’, and ‘August didn’t deny it.’ Who do you think this person could have overheard?”

Wilhelm lowered his eyes to his own hands. Simon’s gaze was fixed on the papers in front of him. 

Kristina took a deep breath. “Then answer me this: how did Sara Eriksson find out? Why did she start filing a police report, and what made her dismiss it?”

Neither of them responded or looked at her. 

“No?” She pressed again. “Very well, then. Why didn’t you file a report, Simon?”

“Mum, you just said that it would be blocked and disappeared anyway,” Wilhelm interjected. 

“I don’t think that’s the kind of thing that would keep Simon from trying, at the very least. Am I correct?” Kristina looked directly at Simon. “You were prepared to do it. What made you change your mind?”

Simon and Wilhelm exchanged looks, like they were having a silent conversation. Linda appeared more tense. 

Simon licked his lips. “There’s… something that August had… that he intended to use… against me.”

“What do you mean?” Kristina asked.

Simon looked around the table, looking paler by the second. Beside him, Wilhelm looked paper white. Simon took a deep breath and started talking.

Although Wilhelm interjected a few times to clarify with his side of the story, Simon did most of the talking: he talked about Wilhelm’s initiation party, about August approaching Sara about her prescription, about Simon and his father and the prescription drugs he took from him, about Parents Weekend and August’s financial woes, about the night of the Society party, about Alexander getting caught with the drugs and taking the fall, about St Lucia night, about Sara’s involvement with August, and about how August kept a bottle of prescription ADHD medication for his own personal use, but also for blackmailing purposes. And about, when August found out that Simon was going to the police to report him for the video, he in turn threatened Wilhelm to report Simon to the police for the drugs, going as far as bringing Alexander into the fold to take the fall for him.

Simon fell silent again. Wilhelm sighed.

“We knew that, if August reported Simon, the consequences for him would be a lot worse than for Alexander,” he said. “We knew that August would do anything to have the upper hand, to keep us quiet so that we would leave him alone, so that Simon wouldn’t report him. We just wanted to recover the bottle of pills that he showed us,, so he couldn’t use them against us anymore.” He looked down at his lap. “Unfortunately, he discovered what we were doing, and we argued. We still got the pill bottle back, and we assured him that was all we wanted, so that he’d leave us alone. But… someone else was there, and we didn’t know until it was too late. And they… overheard everything.”

Everyone around the table was quiet. Kristina was too stunned to speak, breathing hard.

Wilhelm looked peaky still; Simon looked down, eyelashes wet with tears. Linda looked slightly sick. 

Kristina finally spoke. “Drugs? Wilhelm, drugs?” 

No one said anything. She looked around.

“Of all the things that I expected you to say, I never…”

“Mum…”

“Do you expect me to be okay with this? Do you understand the severity of this, Wilhelm?”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You clearly don’t.” She felt her face growing hot. “This is the stupidest thing that you could have done… This is a crime, Wilhelm. A crime.”

He glared at her. “That’s very rich, considering you protected the person who posted child pornography of your own son.”

“No, Wilhelm, this is worse.”

Wilhelm looked like he had just been slapped. 

“No, no, don’t pretend to be all high and mighty now. Especially when we just told you that August is clearly an addict, and you know that his father was an addict too. You’re okay with him being my backup despite those things, and covering up for him and everything he’s done, so you cannot hold this against Simon-”

“You do not tell me what I can or cannot do, Wilhelm,” she said, her voice becoming louder. “You just made it very clear that we would not be in this situation if it hadn’t been because Simon has been doing some very questionable things this entire time.” 

“I wasn’t…” Simon interjected, hesitant, his voice caught in his throat. “I wasn’t thinking… I made a mistake. I didn’t know what else to do…” He took a deep trembling breath. “I instantly regretted it. I really didn’t know who I was dealing with, and what he would do. But I’m… I’m not a dealer. I just… it was stupid… I didn’t mean to…”

Kristina gazed intently at him. “By all means, explain your intentions.”

Simon swallowed hard. “What can I say that will make you change what you already think of me? That I stupidly thought that I could solve all my problems with money? That I was only trying to protect my sister? That maybe if I took all my dad’s drugs from him, he’d suddenly stop using? That it was never my intention to hurt anyone or cause any more problems, but… but that’s just what happened?” He wiped a tear from his cheek. 

Wilhelm shook his head and glared at Kristina.

“Mum, this still doesn’t undo the fact that August is behind everything-”

“Wilhelm, stop,” Kristina responded. “Do you understand how serious this could become, if any of this gets out? You are directly involved with a drug dealer-”

“He is NOT a drug dealer!”

“Then what would you have me call him? Stealing prescription drugs from his father, who could have reported himself? Bringing those drugs to school for someone else? I cannot imagine why you would be with someone who would do something like this. And how do we know that he’s not also using as well?”

“I don’t, I swear,” Simon said sheepishly, cheeks red.

“He doesn’t, but that’s not- Did you not hear the part where I told you that I was high the night August filmed us? The part where we told you that August was going to manipulate Sara into giving him her meds? The part where August kept the drugs for himself? Nobody is innocent, including me. Everybody in the school is on something illegal. Why do you pretend like it’s worse when it’s him?”

“Because it is! Because he’s-”

She stopped herself, temper boiling.

Wilhelm’s eyes widened, angry. “Because he’s what?”

“Because I’m what?” Simon echoed, his voice weaker.

Minou seemed to be about to say something, but closed her mouth promptly.

Kristina fixed Wilhelm with a stare.

“Because of his background.”

Simon stood up suddenly. 

“That’s it, I’m leaving. I’m not gonna put up with this anymore.”

“Simon,” Wilhelm and Linda said at the same time as he pushed his chair back, his face red, breathing hard.

“No… no… shit… I know I’m probably breaking all the protocols, but… I’m not gonna sit here anymore and listen to you judge me,” he said, staring at Kristina. “I’m sick of being judged. That’s all that’s happened to me since the fu- the video, I keep getting judged for things that aren’t even my fault and I’m done!” He was shaking now. “And I know that this part is my fault, that I made a mistake, I just keep making mistakes and I don’t intend to, and I’m sorry-”

“Simon, please-” 

“-I’m really sorry that I’m a stupid kid, I’m sorry that I have an addict father, I’m sorry that I’m working-class trash, and I’m- shit… I’m sorry that I fell in love with your son, that I had the audacity to want to be with him, and I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect match that the Royal Court needs for the crown prince. But I… I don’t have to put up with this.”

He was crying now, tears streaming down his face.

“Simon, please sit down,” Minou whispered from across the table. 

“No, thank you, I’m gonna go outside now,” he said, wiping his face on his sleeve and walking quickly out.

“Simon, wait!” Wilhelm shot to his feet. Kristina almost reached out and yanked him back into his chair, but she resisted, and watched him go. 

Linda sat frozen in her chair, eyes downcast.

“Linda,” Kristina started, “were you aware of any of this?”

The woman shook her head slowly, tears brimming. 

“It’s not that my children don’t trust me, but… well, I’m not at home a lot. And a lot of things happened, between their father and I, and between their father and them… that Sara hasn’t… and… and Simon has become the one that takes care of everything and everyone, in more ways than I should have allowed…” 

She looked at Kristin earnestly. “But I trust them. My children, they are… they’re good. They shouldn’t be judged by this. And Simon… he is a good boy. He’s just… I can’t give him a lot of the things that would probably help him, and he tries… but he’s really good. And he loves Wil- he loves your son very much.”

“I know that,” Kristina said, not unkindly. Linda met Kristina’s eyes, and shook her head.

“No, you don’t. I know what you think of him. But you’re wrong. With all due respect, Your Majesty, you… you don’t know him.” 

Kristina didn’t respond. 

It was like for a moment they had both forgotten the rest of the people at the table. Jan-Olof looked slightly uncomfortable, whilst Minou seemed to be thinking hard. 

Before anyone else spoke or moved, Wilhelm pushed through the door, walked back to the table and stood beside his mother. 

“Linda, would you excuse us, please,” Kristina started, then gestured toward the rest of the table. “Everyone, please. I will have a word with the crown prince.” She cleared her throat. “Jan-Olof,” she said, shooting him a look. Jan-Olof nodded.

As soon as everyone was gone, she gestured for Wilhelm to sit down, but he remained standing.

“Mum, you cannot treat Simon like that.” 

She fixed him with a stare. “You do not demand things from me, not in that tone, and especially not after this,” she said, her voice calm but serious. “I have been dealing with your attitude and your outbursts and your whims for too long now, this has been months of having to put up with this, of managing everything that comes as a result-“

“I’m sorry that I’m such a burden to you-”

Stop it,” she retorted. “I do not have the time nor the energy for this. I expect more from you at this point. You have a duty, you have a responsibility to represent this family and the crown. This is not about you anymore, it’s not whatever you want it to be. There are rules, there are expectations. I have been lenient, I’ve been flexible-”

“Oh have you?” he responded sardonically.

“-and we promised to each other that we would be honest. Didn’t we? But you’ve been sitting on this information for I don’t know how long, and you expected me to not be cross with you? This is not the type of thing you hide from me.”

Wilhelm didn’t reply. She leaned back and let out a heavy sigh.

“I cannot fathom why you would do something like this. It’s like no matter where I draw the line, you just keep crossing it.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not doing this to spite you, mother. And some lines just need to be crossed. I don’t always mean to, though. I don’t do in on purpose. It’s just what has happened.” He shook his head. “But I’m not the only one crossing lines, am I?”

With a heavy sigh, Kristina stood up. “Wilhelm, in this role you cannot just go around pointing fingers at people, placing the blame on others-”

“Why not, when those people have every intention of screwing me over?” He crossed his arms. “Not only are you clearly prejudiced against Simon-”

“Don’t you dare s-”

“Don’t deny it. But not only that, you keep favoring August in all of this, as if he didn’t ruin my fucking life.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic!” Wilhelm exclaimed, exasperated. “You’re the one who keeps undermining the impact of what he did on my life, on both of us, and it’s not fair.”

She let out a deep breath and turned away from him, hands on her hips. 

“Mum, you don’t understand,” Wilhelm continued. “August actually hates me. He hates both of us. And he is capable and willing to do anything to fuck me over.”

“Stop exaggerating,” she said, even though she was well aware of August’s jealousy and animosity toward Wilhelm, precisely the reason why she had Jan-Olof keep an eye on him and set up regular appointments with the school therapist. She was also, therefore, keenly aware of the fact that August had skipped on his appointments for the past week and for the foreseeable future, without explanation.

“I’m not exaggerating, mother. It’s facts. August really doesn’t like me. I don’t know why he is like this with me, even before anything happened, even before he knew anything. But he’d really like to be in my position, he’d really do absolutely anything to get me out of the way. And you’re encouraging him by telling him that he could replace me as crown prince.”

Kristina threw him an annoyed look. “Do you even want to be crown prince? I distinctly remember you threatening to renounce your title.”

Wilhelm looked rattled.

“You’d really replace him with me? Just like that?” he asked in a small voice. Kristina sighed and walked up to him, and caressed his cheek. Surprisingly, he didn’t back away from her touch. 

“I don’t want to, Wilhelm. Of course I want you to be crown prince, and succeed me in the throne. Not just because you’re my son, but because I know you would be wonderful. I want you to be king one day. But I also want you to want to be king.” She took his hands in hers. “And I need you to become that, to be the best that you can be. But…” she sighed again, “I’m tired of fighting this. I’m tired of fighting with you. And I unfortunately need to think of the future of the crown, and if I can’t convince you to be a part of it, I have to do whatever it takes to continue the line of succession and protect the crown.”

Wilhelm looked sad. “Even letting someone like August take on the role?”

She shook her head and squeezed his hands. “That’s why I want you to take this seriously and remain the crown prince.”

To her chagrin, he backed away this time, pulling his hands away from her. 

“So you’ll use him to manipulate me to make sure I will…”

Kristina groaned inwardly and took a deep breath. 

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Wilhelm. I’m trying to get you to understand. If you want to remain crown prince, if you don’t want August to be next in line, then I need you to understand what is at stake. And this… stunt that you’ve pulled most recently risks jeopardizing everything that we’ve built together, everything that we both care about.”

Wilhelm stared at her, sourly. 

“So you are allowed to do anything to protect what you care about, but I’m not allowed to do the same?”

Kristina sighed, jaw clenched. Wilhelm shook his head slowly.

“He’s not what you’re making him out to be. He’s good.”

“I believe you, but-”

He groaned. “If there’s a ‘but’, then you don’t actually believe me.”

She felt more and more exasperated. “Wilhelm, if any of this were to get out, do you not see what that could do? What it would say about you?”

“It says nothing, because it means nothing.”

“The public will not see it as nothing.”

“Then make it go away!” Wilhelm exclaimed, equally exasperated. “Like you did with August and the video. Just cover it up, pretend that it didn’t happen. That should be easy for you to do. You’re an expert at that.” 

She shook her head. “We cannot make this go away just like that. What if August still has evidence against him? Where are the drugs that they took from the boy that was suspended? What if those are used as evidence against him as well? What do we do then? You can’t simply ask me-”

“Yes, yes I can,” he said, his voice louder, breathing hard, face red again. “Because nobody asked you to disappear the evidence against August  when he recorded and posted fucking child pornography of your own son on the Internet for the whole world to see. You just did it, for the sake of the crown. But I have to ask this time, right? I have to ask you and listen to you judge Simon, because he made a mistake to try to sort out a situation with fucking August again-”

“Wilhelm-”

“I would just like to know where exactly you draw the line for yourself.” 

Kristina looked away when her phone lit up with one text message. Wilhelm’s shoulders slumped when she took a moment to check the message and sent a short reply. 

When she looked back, his face was softer, his eyes large and pleading. 

“Can’t you for once actually protect the people that you claim to care about? Can’t you show me that you care about me?”

Kristina closed her eyes. “Of course I care about you, älskling,” she said, exhausted. “But you have to understand that this cannot be allowed-”

He huffed and ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “I understand that you have a lot of double standards, mother.”

“Do I?” she challenged him.

“Yes, you do. You make it seem like it’s the institution and the people, but it’s you, isn’t it? It’s you who can’t accept him. Simon doesn’t get treated the same as any of the people that Erik dated. He never will. Because it’s different, right? Because no matter what he does, no matter what he becomes, you still think he doesn’t belong. Because he’s still a boy, and he’s from a poor family, and he’s the son of an immigrant, and his father is an addict, and he looks different, and he’s gay and-”

“Wilhelm, please.”

“But August, August’s father was also an addict. You know that. And, and August himself is an addict, you know that now. Again, did you hear the part where he tried to get meds from Sara? Did you hear that he kept some of the drugs for himself?” He sniffled angrily. “But Simon is not like his father, he’s far from it, and he is not a dealer, okay? He made a mistake. I’ve made mistakes, too.” 

His voice trembled slightly. “But our mistakes weigh heavier, don’t they? Far more than any mistake Erik ever made, and so much more than any bullshit that August has pulled.” His eyes glistened. “Because I’m me, right? Because I’m not perfect, I’m such a disappointment to you, because I had to be queer, because you’re stuck with me instead of him, because maybe it should have been me in that car crash-”

STOP!” Kristina shouted, bringing Wilhelm’s rant to a halt. She wanted to slap him. “Don’t you ever insinuate that again.”

Wilhelm was breathing hard, his neck red. “But everything else is true, isn’t it?” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know why you dislike me so much, and I-”

How dare you, Wilhelm? I don’t dislike you,” she seethed. 

“Well, you don’t like me all the time, you only like me when I’m like you, when I do what you want me to do, when I act the way that you expect me to. But the rest of the time… you don’t seem to like me at all…”

She clenched her jaw. “How can you say that?”

“Because everything else seems infinitely more important than my happiness and my safety and my wellbeing.” He sniffled, his voice thick. “Do you even care what I’ve gone through? Did you care what I was going through over Christmas? What I was-”

You were a phantom in this place,” Kristina retorted. “You were the one who didn’t speak to me, you didn’t even look at me. No matter what I tried, no matter how I approached you to have a talk with you-”

“Because you didn’t want to have a talk! You just wanted me to listen!”

Kristina fell silent. 

Wilhelm sniffled again. “Even at home, you… you didn’t try to comfort me. I had just been through the worst moment of my life, just shortly after the other worst moment of my life, and you… You didn’t want to listen to me. You didn’t really care. And after the speech, you dragged me here to ‘sort things out’ but then you sent me to my room and ignored me… You didn’t care that I was miserable. You don’t care…”

Kristina was shaking her head. 

Wilhelm wiped his face. “There’s only one person in this family who has ever made me feel like I’m worth a damn thing, and he’s gone,” his voice broke further. “But now I have Simon.” He took a deep breath and calmed down. “He’s everything to me. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that. And I’m not letting you treat him like shit.”

He turned to leave.

“We are not done,” she said.

“No, of course we are not,” he called over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to see if Simon is okay,” he said, grabbing the doorknob. 

“Simon and his mother are on their way back to Bjärstad,” she stated. 

Wilhelm stopped and turned, bewildered.

“What?”

Kristina crossed her arms. “He can’t be seen here. If this becomes an issue, we can’t have him here.” 

Eyes wide and perplexed, Wilhelm’s mouth fell open as he pushed through the door and staggered into the anteroom, where he had presumably left Simon a moment ago. Only Farima, Elisa and Magnus were left. Kristina heard Wilhelm ask them where Simon was. She grabbed her phone and walked calmly out of the room. Wilhelm turned to her, breathing hard.

“You sent him away?” he asked.

Kristina sighed. She knew he would react like this. That’s why she had to make sure it happened whilst he was distracted. Jan-Olof knew what to do. He texted her as soon as Simon and Linda were in the car that would drive them back to Bjärstad. At least Jan-Olof said that Simon didn’t protest much. 

Wilhelm rushed out. She took a deep breath before following Wilhelm at a distance, as he dashed down the corridor toward the reception hall. The bodyguards, Malin and Joakim, who had been posted outside the door, ran after him.

“Is he really gone?” she heard him ask Minou as he came upon her. 

Minou nodded. “The car just left,” she said in a small voice. 

Wilhelm continued running, bodyguards in tow. When Kristina caught up with them, in the reception hall, the bodyguards were holding him back, as he was trying to run out of the palace, grunting and growling for them to let him go. Jan-Olof stood by, gesturing for the doorman to close the door. The large wooden door closed with an echoing finality. 

“Wilhelm,” Kristina said, just as Wilhelm pushed away from his bodyguards, panting, his whole body trembling.

 He turned and glared at her. “You…” he whispered, angry, chest and shoulders heaving.

“I do not have time for you theatrics,” Kristina spoke before he could say anything else. “We could have avoided this. You should have told me what was happening, and we could have handled this way earlier, and then there would not be yet another issue about to become as scandal.”

Wilhelm was shaking his head over and over. His eyes were wide as he looked around. Behind Kristina, Farima and Minou appeared. 

“You sent him away…”

“I’m sorry, Wilhelm, but it had to be done. We can continue with the meeting now and we can discuss what-”

“You- no, no… fuck…” Wilhelm muttered. He pulled his phone out of his pocket with trembling hands, flipped it open and scrolled through. Presumably searching for Simon’s contact. 

Without thinking, Kristina stepped forward and yanked the phone out of his hands, eliciting a small yelp of surprise from him. She snapped the phone shut and shoved it in Farima’s direction. An unprepared Farima nearly dropped it. Wilhelm instinctively lunged toward Farima to retrieve it, but Kristina cut in front of him and blocked him.

STOP THIS NOW,” she bellowed.

Wilhelm stood, frozen, eyes wide, looking around at the others, trembling, his breathing shallow and quick.

She straightened up. “I need you to focus now. We need to sort this out now, and I can’t afford for you to be distracted,” she said, her voice steadier. 

He shook his head.

“I should have known…” he hissed. “Fuck… I should have seen this coming-”

“Wilhelm-”

“Is- is this how you solve everything?” he asked, his voice shaking. “You send whatever you find problematic away? Like you sent me to Hillerska?”

“Wilhelm, stop this right now.”

He was shaking his head, rubbing his neck. 

“I can’t- shit, I can’t- it’s-”

She gestured to Jan-Olof, who cleared his throat.

“Joakim, Malin, please escort the crown prince back to the conference room. Everyone, please,” Jan-Olof said. 

Farima and Minou looked a bit stunned, standing by as they waited for Kristina to lead the way, Jan-Olof behind her.  

Kristina started walking back, glancing over her shoulder at Wilhelm, who was still in the same spot. 

“I will not deal with you if you continue to act irrationally like this, so I suggest you calm down and-”

Wilhelm was slightly bent over, like he might be sick, hands still on his neck. He straightened up, a hand reaching for support on the nearest thing he could find—a center table—, trembling fingers grasping at the edge. He was still breathing hard and quick and he had gone pale.

“Are you-” Kristina started to ask but her voice caught in her throat. 

Wilhelm appeared to sway on his feet. His eyes suddenly rolled back. Malin rushed forward. 

“Wilhelm!” she shouted. She was able to get in front of him just as Wilhelm pitched forward and started falling. Kristina watched in shock as her son crumpled into his bodyguard, limbs limp like a rag doll, lips slightly parted. Malin caught him before he could hit the floor, and Joakim helped her lower him gently to the floor. She cradled him in her arms before laying him on the carpet. 

Everyone suddenly rushed toward them. 

Stunned into silence, frozen, speechless, Kristina felt like the world had slowed down, like the sound around her had died down, a high-pitched ringing in her ear. 

“Get the doctor,” she heard Jan-Olof say, his voice sounding far away. Farima was already running, phone in hand. 

Joakim had managed to remove Wilhelm’s sweater and loosen the shirt buttons around Wilhelm’s neck. “Wilhelm? Wilhelm?” he and Malin were calling him gently, examining him, pulse, breathing, talking quietly to each other. Wilhelm’s face was paper-white, parted lips colorless, eyelids half-closed. 

Kristina hesitated for a long time, feeling like she was not in control of her own body, before moving toward them too. She slowly knelt beside him and reached for his hand. His skin was clammy and cold, fingers icy.

She called his name, but she couldn’t hear her own voice. All she could hear was the thumping of her heart in her ears. It was like being underwater. She couldn’t breathe.

It was real, this was real… 

Farima came into the room, a footman on her heels bearing a glass of water. Farima was saying something, but Kristina only heard muffled voices. She could sense she was talking now, but she couldn’t hear herself still, couldn’t even process what words were coming out of her mouth, or if anyone could hear her. 

After several minutes, which felt like an eternity, Wilhelm’s eyelids finally fluttered open.

“There you are,” Malin said. “Stay down for a bit. Minou, could you hand me that vase over there, please?”

Kristina looked around, confused, as Minou obeyed and reached for the antique vase on the table. Malin promptly removed the flowers in it and placed them beside her on the floor. 

Wilhelm closed his eyes again, breathing labored, before he spoke.

“What happened…” he asked in the smallest, breathless voice. He looked disoriented.

“You started hyperventilating and you fainted,” Malin replied softly. 

Wilhelm tensed before clenching his jaw. Both Joakim and Malin grabbed his arms and pulled him up a bit, as Wilhelm made a noise.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Malin said as the two helped Wilhelm roll onto his side. She held the vase for him, and Wilhelm puked into it, gasping for air, spitting. He breathed heavily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I feel dizzy…” he said weakly. 

“It will pass in a moment,” Malin said, a hand pressed to Wilhelm’s forehead. Joakim gestured for the butler with the water to come closer. He took the glass of water, and he and Malin helped Wilhelm sit up a bit so that he could have a drink.

Then Joakim picked him up as if Wilhelm weighed nothing and placed him in the nearest couch. Kristina stood up, feeling Jan-Olof’s hand on her elbow to assist her. Her legs felt like jelly. She watched transfixed as the two bodyguards fussed over him.

A tiny bit of color slowly returned to Wilhelm’s pale lips. The cold sweat covering his skin now made the hair over his forehead stick to it. His trembling fingers grasped at Malin’s hand. 

“He’ll be okay now, Your Majesty, we can take him to his room, if you’d like, and the doctor can see him there,” Joakim said.

Kristina was still stunned, silent, and did not respond as he gently helped Wilhelm to his feet, one arm under his armpit, whilst Malin stayed close on his other side, one hand on his elbow, carrying the glass of water with her.

Wilhelm’s sweater stayed behind on the floor. 

“The doctor is on his way to the Crown Prince’s room, would you like to be there?” Farima said, still on her phone. “Your Majesty?”

Kristina didn’t answer Farima, watching them go. 

She was half aware of the butler picking up the vomit-filled vase in one hand, and the discarded flowers in the other, whilst Minou picked up the crown prince’s sweater and folded it over her arm and stood by, seemingly stunned too. 

The doctor did not allow Kristina into Wilhelm’s room anyway, preferring to have as few people as possible in there as he examined the crown prince. Malin was one of them. Later, Kristina found out that Ludvig had been another, having rushed over as soon as he was alerted. 

Kristina stood in the hallway, pacing a little in front of the door and Joakim, who was posted to one side. 

After almost an hour, which felt much longer to Kristina, the door opened and the doctor stepped out. He gave a bow toward her.

“The crown prince is doing better, Your Majesty,” he said, smiling. “His blood pressure was low, but it is almost back to normal now. It seems to have been the result of an anxiety or panic attack, which caused him to hyperventilate, which prevents enough oxygen to circulate and causes lightheadedness, nausea and dizziness. He admitted that he has not been eating or sleeping well. That can help exacerbate the symptoms too. I have administered antiemetic for the nausea, it will make him sleepy for a few hours, which should help him rest and recover. I do recommend that once he wakes up and feels better, that he eats something light, like a broth, a lot of hydration and rest. And he should not be submitted to any stressful situations.”

Kristina nodded. “May I see him?” she asked.

“The crown prince should be resting, he’s still unwell, and the antiemetic causes him to feel drowsy. Perhaps once he has woken up.”

He would come back to examine him tomorrow, and recommended doing a full checkup as soon as possible. She thanked him before he left. 

Malin came out of the room after a moment with a maid. The maid bowed and walked away. Malin bowed toward Kristina too, and stood by in her posts, on the other side of the door. Kristina cleared her throat.

“Malin, Joakim.”

“Your Majesty,” they said in unison, bowing again. 

She took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Malin shook her head. “Just doing our jobs, ma’am.”

“You’re very good at it,” Kristina said. “You have always been.”

“Appreciate it, ma’am,” Joakim said. 

Kristina rubbed her hands together and hesitated.

“Can I ask you something?” she finally asked.

“Of course,” Joakim said.

“How did you anticipate… what to do? You seemed like you knew exactly what would happen, and what he…”

They looked at each other briefly. “Well… this isn’t the first time, ma’am,” Malin said. 

“It’s happened before? Like this?”

“More or less.”

“When?”

Malin paused for a moment. “The night of St. Lucia.”

Kristina blinked. “Right.”

Without another word, she nodded at them again, and walked down the hallway. 

“Are we reconvening, ma’am?” Jan-Olof asked. He had been waiting for her at the end of the hallway. 

She hesitated, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think so. I think… I need some…” 

“I will take care of it, ma’am. Get some rest.”

She didn’t say anything else and walked off, really not thinking where she was going, until she was in her office. She sent for some tea and sat at her desk, staring idly into empty space.

A bit later, her secretary came in with a tray of tea. Ludvig walking in behind her.

“Thank you, Eva,” Kristina said, as Eva set the tray on the little table and left. 

Ludvig sat on one of the chairs by the table and let out a loud sigh. 

“How is he?” Kristina asked. 

“Asleep,” he answered sternly.

She nodded and stood up to make the tea. Ludvig watched her pour herself a cup. She turned and raised her eyebrows, as if asking him if he wanted one too. He just stared at her.

“You sent him away. Simon and his mother.” It was more of a statement than a question. 

Kristina pour him a cup anyway. “I had to.”

“Did you?”

“For now, yes.” She turned to him again. “You disagree?”

“From the way he reacted, of course.”

Kristina shot him a look, and handed him the cup. Ludvig stared at it for a long time. 

“I just… think you could have handled it differently.”

She sat in the other chair and waited for the tea to cool a bit. “How exactly would you have had me handle it?”

“I don’t know, but… this feels worse than a month ago, when you brought him here, and he was in a state. This time he’s… catatonic.”

She scoffed. “Well, I’m starting to realize where Wilhelm gets his dramatic flair.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” Ludvig frowned. He met her eyes, genuinely troubled. “Kristina, he could barely speak. As soon as Joakim helped him lay down, he said two words and started… bawling, unable to breathe, and then proceeded to empty his guts into the rubbish bin.” He shrugged. “There wasn’t much, though, because apparently he hasn’t been eating… So after a moment it was just dry heaving. It’s like he couldn’t control himself. The doctor said it was a panic attack. And I’m sure it was a result of Simon being sent away.”

Kristina grimaced at the image in her head. 

“He will calm down,” she said. 

Ludvig sipped his tea and turned to her again. “What exactly happened?”

Kristina sipped her tea as she recounted everything to Ludvig, everything that Wilhelm revealed, that Simon confessed, what Linda said. As she heard herself repeat everything, she felt justified in her decision. 

Ludvig rubbed his chin with his index. 

“I see, but…” he started slowly, “what are you going to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you… Are you going to make Simon go away forever? Or… are you planning to keep Wilhelm from going back to Hillerska? Because… what happens when they both go back to school? I don’t know about you, but I don’t think Wilhelm is just going to stay away from Simon just because you… temporarily separate them.”

She sipped her tea again, contemplative. “I’m not entirely sure yet, Ludvig, but… all I know right now is that this is a very delicate situation. And Simon’s presence would have been an unwanted distraction.”

Ludvig raised an eyebrow. 

“He’s a person, too.”

She threw him a look. “What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing.” He held up a hand defensively. “Well… I don’t mean to question your decision, but I think it was a harsh reaction.”

Kristina leaned back in her chair, waiting for him to continue. 

“I don’t think Simon is a bad person, he’s just a person who did something bad,” Ludvig added.

“I’m not saying he’s a bad person,” Kristina said. 

Ludvig gave a little shrug. “But you just treated him like a criminal. But you don’t do the same thing with August.”

Kristina stood up, frustrated. “Not you too…”

“Kristina, he posted a sex video of Wilhelm,” he stated, as if she wasn’t aware, hadn’t been plagued by it for months now. She didn’t need reminding of it. Ludvig sighed. “I just wonder too if you would have been so lenient if… if this had happened with Erik.”

“Well, it didn’t.” She walked slowly to her desk, but remained standing. “I have to deal with what’s actually happening. I can’t dwell on the what ifs and the imaginary scenarios, Ludvig.”

“But you are preparing for an imaginary scenario. You’re getting ahead of yourself. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” 

“We know what could happen.” 

“Yes, and in that case, you have the power to intervene before it does.” He sighed again. “For the sake of our son.” 

She leaned onto her desk, and pondered over it. 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” she asked, seriously. He shrugged. 

“It’s not worse than protecting the person who hurt your son on purpose before.”

She crossed her arms. 

“But Ludvig, where do I draw the line? And what do I do next time he oversteps that line?”

He placed his cup on the table and stood up, walking slowly toward her. “I know you’re not fond of the idea… I know what it entails… but I don’t think you’ve really considered… I’ve never seen Wilhelm care about anything at all, in his entire life, as much as he cares about Simon. I thought nothing would ever move him to be so disciplined, and dedicated… It’s like he’s a different person now.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve spoken many times with his teachers, with the counsellor. Wilhelm’s academic performance is improving. He enjoys fencing. I was proud that he went into rowing like his brother, but I’m even prouder that he found his own sport. He’s going to therapy willingly. The counsellor can’t tell me about the sessions, of course, but he says that Wilhelm’s disposition has shifted significantly. He’s being more assertive-”

“He’s also rebelling against every tradition at Hillerska,” Kristina pointed out. He chuckled.

“Now who’s being dramatic? He rebelled agains the hazing on Simon’s behalf, that’s all. I think that’s fair. It’s just a silly tradition. My point is, he’s clearly finding his own footing, and I think Simon is helping him.”

Kristina wasn’t sure if she was fond of the idea of a boy who openly disparaged the monarchy and traditions being the greatest influence on the future king of Sweden. But as much as she hated to admit it, Ludvig might have been right about other things. 

She didn’t express it, though. 

Wilhelm slept through lunchtime. Even so, Kristina had the staff set a place for him at the table. 

The Royal Court reassembled after lunch. The atmosphere in the conference room had shifted. Minou now sat in Wilhelm’s seat, Elisa beside her taking notes in Simon’s. 

Magnus was detailing the next steps of the investigation; since this was a child pornography case involving students as both victims and perpetrators, there was a chance that they could keep it under wraps; but if an outside agency or another branch of the police became involved, the investigation could even cause Hillerska to be shut down temporarily until the investigation was finished. 

They were discussing whether to directly approach August or his stepfather, who would presumably be his legal representation, when there was a knock on the door. 

Eva came in. “Your Majesty, the driver has returned,” she said. “You wanted to speak with him?”  

“Oh, yes. Send him in,” Kristina replied. 

Eva let the driver in, and the man bowed. 

“Jan Peterson, Your Majesty,” he said. 

“Everything went well, Jan?”

“It did, ma’am.”

“Did the boy-… did Simon and his mother get home safely?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Were there any photographers or press around?”

“No, ma’am, not when we arrived.”

Kristina nodded. “Did they say anything to you?”

Jan shook his head. “Not at all, ma’am.”

“Not at all?” she repeated, eyebrows raised.

“They did not speak, no.”

“It’s a two and a half-hour drive. They didn’t even speak to each other?”

“No, ma’am, the boy was… he… he cried the entire time. His mother was comforting him.”

She sighed. 

“I see… Anything else remarkable happen?”

“Not really, ma’am. Just a brief stop along the way.”

“A stop?”

“The boy… became sick.”

“Jesus Christ…” she muttered under her breath. “Thank you, Jan.”

The man bowed his head and went back out. 

Magnus cleared his throat. “Shall I continue?”

“Yes, please go on,” Kristina said, but her mind was suddenly elsewhere. 

They adjourned for the day, and Kristina had a mind to find out if Wilhelm was awake now and possibly have a word with him, when Minou approached her. 

“Your Majesty, Linda Eriksson messaged me,” she said, showing her the screen of her phone. “She wants to know what happens now, and if she’s going to be informed of anything. She would like to know what to do once… Simon returns to school.”

Kristina let out a tired sigh. “We are not obligated to discuss anything with her. Our priority right now is to figure out what to do about the  report and the investigation, and protect the crown prince.” 

“I understand, ma’am, but…” Minou trailed off.

“Yes?”

“Never mind. We’ve adjourned.”

“I would rather know now what’s on your mind.”

Minou took a deep breath. “Well… I’m concerned about… the effect of casting Simon aside. Not because I’m concerned of what he could do, although he’s very righteous and outspoken, but… because of the public reaction, if this were to get out. If the relationship… suddenly ends.”

Kristina tried to hide her amusement. They had been together for merely a month… though she was aware of al the pictures, the videos, the attention on them, the fact that Wilhelm had been going every weekend to Simon’s house, the fact that they lived across the hall from each other in the boarding house… At sixteen, a month was like a lifetime. 

Social media, on the other hand, existed on a time warp, where one month could be a blink, or forever.

“Go on.”

“And… I’m concerned about the possibility that August could still retaliate in some way. I feel that not disciplining him before may have done more damage than good.”

Kristina nodded as she listened. Minou was very serious.

“What do you suggest we do, then?”

“I think we have no choice but to continue to protect August, to avoid a scandal,” Minou said. “But I think it would be wise to find a way that the drug issue does not come to light either.”

“You mean protect Simon.”

“Yes.”

Kristina nodded slowly, but did not want to think about it at the moment.

“Do you think Simon might try to… do something?”

“No, ma’am. I don’t think he’d take that sort of action at this point,” Minou said confidently. Kristina raised an eyebrow.

“He was prepared to, he was going to go to the police and report August.”

“Yes, but that was before the crown prince publicly announced that he appeared in the video too. Simon wouldn’t do anything like that now if it involved the crown prince. He clearly cares about him a lot. I don’t think he’d do something that might affect him.”

Kristina nodded again and sighed. 

“Drugs, Minou…”

“I know.”

Minou did know. This hadn’t been the first time that the Royal Court would have had to deal with a drug scandal.

“Thank you for speaking your mind, but make sure to share it with everyone during tomorrow’s meeting,” she said, standing up to leave.  

“What should I tell Linda?”

Kristina contemplated it.

“Tell her that we’ll be in touch. And…” she paused, “ask her how Simon is doing. And let me know.”

“Certainly.”

If she was honest, Kristina was not fond of the idea of protecting Simon under the circumstances, merely because she didn’t want to give in to Wilhelm so easily. Not after the way he had behaved. 

It was worse than the days after the jubilee. 

Wilhelm was briefly awake during the afternoon, but promptly went back to sleep. The maid reported that, when he woke up, she tried getting him to have a bit of broth, but he refused it, feeling too sick and sleepy. 

Ludvig went to see Wilhelm too, in the evening, but barely managed to coax a few words out of him before he stopped talking altogether, drifting in and out of slumber. 

“What did he say?” she asked.

“Something about fucking everything up.”

Kristina frowned at the language. Ludvig rarely swore. “What does that mean?”

Ludvig shrugged. 

This couldn’t continue, Kristina thought. They had meetings to discuss the events for the week, and other issues to resolve. Wilhelm had to be better by then. They needed to talk. She needed him to stop acting like the world was ending.

“Well, what do you expect, dear? He didn’t even get to say goodbye to Simon this time,” Ludvig said as they were getting ready to go to bed.

Kristina stopped in the middle of taking off her jewelry. “How do you know?”

“It was one of the things he said, when the doctor was checking him.”

Kristina rolled her eyes. 

“I didn’t do that to be cruel,” she pointed out. “I just thought it was best. You know how he is.”

“Yes, I do know how he is. That’s why…” he trailed off. 

That’s why, when it came to Wilhelm, she was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. There was no winning with him.

The doctor checked him again on Sunday morning. He pointed out his concern on the fact that the crown prince hadn’t eaten anything yet, that he hadn’t been able to keep anything down. But he was reluctant to prescribe anything more except a mild sedative, and more antiemetic. 

Around two in the afternoon, prior to the meeting, Eva relayed a message from the crown prince. 

“He’s asking to see me? Now?” Kristina sighed. “What for?”

Eva shook her head. “Apologies, Your Majesty, but the crown prince didn’t elaborate.”

“You spoke to him? Directly?”

“Yes, ma’am, he called here.”

Eva was actually Jan-Olof’s secretary, but in the interim she was replacing Kristina’s secretary, Linnea, who had just left on parental leave. So Kristina didn’t expect Eva to know how odd was for her son to contact her through her secretary, instead of calling directly to yell at her. 

Wilhelm’s room was dark; all the curtains were drawn, and all the lights were off.

He was still in bed, curled up on his side under the blankets, eyes closed. He seemed to be asleep, but when Kristina closed the door, he lifted his gaze and met hers. 

“Thought you were asleep again,” she said.

He didn’t respond, pushing the covers slowly off of himself, and sat up. Maybe it was just the shadows cast by the faint light filtering through the curtains, but he looked gaunt. His eyes were dark. 

She sat in the chair that had been left beside the bed, presumably the one that the doctor had been using. 

“Well? Did you ask me here to not say a word to me?” She couldn’t help her tone. Part of her was certain that he acted this way to spite her.

The door opened again, and Ludvig came inside, but stayed by the door. 

Kristina was about to say something else, when Wilhelm drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. 

“You win.”

His voice was hoarse and almost imperceptible. Kristina wasn’t sure she even heard him.

“Pardon?”

“I… I have a proposal for you,” he said, clearing his throat. 

Kristina shook her head. “I don’t think you’re in any position or state to negotiate, Wilhelm.”

“Just listen, please…” He let out a sigh. “If you promise me that you will help him, that you’ll make sure to protect him from any legal repercussions or whatever, and that nothing will happen to him or his family… then I promise that I won’t… be with him anymore.”

Kristina stared at him.

“What did you just say?”

He met her eyes fleetingly and shook his head again. 

“Please don’t pretend that this is not what you’ve been hoping for this whole time,” he said, his voice a bit stronger, defiant even. “I’m not so naïve or delusional as to not know that the last thing you want is for us to be together. I’m very aware that you’ve only been humoring me this whole time, and that you would absolutely jump at the chance of getting rid of Simon once and for all.”

“Wilhelm, that is not-”

“If you can promise to protect him, I won’t be with him anymore, okay?” he interrupted her. “I’ll break up with him, and I’ll move on. And I’ll… accept my role and be the crown prince that you want me to be, and I’ll do whatever you want me to do, and marry whomever you want me to marry, and have heirs and… and I hope that would finally be enough for you.”

Kristina resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I’m not as selfish as you think. But I’m not like you either,” he continued. “If I have to, I’m willing to do what you want. But I’m not doing it for you, and I’m certainly not doing it for the crown. I’ll do it for him.” He swallowed hard. “Because he deserves better.” 

He breathed deeply again. 

“So you win.”

Kristina glanced at Ludvig, motionless by the door, eyebrows set in a concerned frown. She looked back at Wilhelm. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you to be together-”

“Don’t lie-”

“-it’s that it’s complicated. We’ve talked about this. And right now, risking everything for him, when you don’t even know if you might still be together for much longer-”

“Yes, we do…”

Kristina shot him a look. 

“I think what your mother is trying to say,” Ludvig interjected, coming closer, “is that you’re still too young to know what you want-”

Wilhelm let out an exasperated huff. “Sometimes you expect me to be an adult, and sometimes you treat me like a child. Which one is it? Am I old enough or not? By all standards, I was a child in that video, and yet you expected me to deal with it like an adult, like- like it wasn’t one of the most traumatic things I could have experienced…” his voice broke. “I’m either old enough or too young depending on whether it’s convenient or inconvenient to you.”

Neither Kristina nor Ludvig said anything.

“And we do know. We’ve talked about it,” Wilhelm continued hoarsely. “You told me to, so I did. We did. It may not be written in stone, but we know what we hope for.” He grimaced. “But you don’t care about what I want, what we want. You were just humoring us…”

“You’ve talked about a future together?” Ludvig asked. Wilhelm nodded.

“Yes. Marriage, kids, all that.”

Kristina stared at him. “Wilhelm, do you realize what you’re asking of him? You’re asking him to change his entire life, to be with you.”

“Then why did you ask me to think about these things? To talk with him about it?”

“Because I was hoping that you’d realize on your own the magnitude of it. It’s a lot to ask of a person.”

“What if he was a girl? Would you still say that?”

Kristina shook her head. “It’s different. Because this is the first time that it’s not… a person of the opposite sex… You know he’d be under much more scrutiny, for the rest of his life. And he won’t be able to have a career like he probably wants, he won’t be able to do many things that he expected to do. And that’s not even considering children, which, if he’s ever even thought about it, would not be his…”

Wilhelm shook his head slowly, his gaze on his lap.

“Sometimes blood is not the only thing that makes a family,” he said, then looked at her. “And sometimes it’s the only thing. I know that, and he knows that.” 

Kristina tried to ignore the way he said that, something unpleasant settling in her chest. She took a deep breath. 

“What about everything else? What about putting up with the scrutiny, putting his own life aside?”

“He knows.”

“He does not know,” she insisted.

“Do you think he hasn’t been going through that since the video? Since the fucking Royal Court wanting to tell us what to do, scolding us like it’s our fault that people take pictures of us?”

“This would be different. This would be constant and for the rest of his life.” She shook her head. “You both have no idea, you’re too young to really imagine the length of the rest of your lives.”

He met her eyes. “Did you?”

Kristina stared at him, eyes narrowed. 

“I think you know that this is a very different situation. Especially because of how it began. And I know that it’s not your fault, and I know that it’s not fair, but unfortunately we can’t do anything about that. And that’s what makes you two being… together… such an important factor to take into consideration. It’s… it makes everything a little more… challenging.” 

Wilhelm’s eyes fell to his lap again. 

Kristina leaned forward. “And that’s why it would not be fair to him, would it? To have him unwittingly come into a life that he’s not prepared for, nor for which he has any desire.”

There was a long silence.

“I know,” Wilhelm finally said. “That’s why… maybe it’s better this way.”

“What way?”

“That you protect him. And… I let him go. And he gets to make his life whatever he wants.”

Kristina gazed at him. 

“Would that make you happy?” she asked.

He vehemently shook his head. “Of course not.”

Kristina sighed. “Do you think it would make him happy?”

This time he shrugged. “Probably not. But at least he’d be safe. That’s more important.” He frowned at her. “And don’t pretend to care about his happiness, or mine. None of this has anything to do with our happiness.”

“Of course I care about your happiness, Wilhelm.”

He didn’t answer.

The thing that she didn’t want to say, that happiness was often incompatible with duty. That prioritizing personal happiness over their obligation to the crown was a pipe dream not at their disposition. 

She stared at him for a long time. At his dim eyes, his pale complexion. 

“Do you really think that you would be able to do that? Move on with your life? Do all these things you promise?” she asked. “Are you really going to be okay with this decision in the long term?”

Again, he was silent, eyes staring at nothing. 

“I don’t really care what happens to me anymore,” he finally said. 

Kristina felt something cold in the back of her neck.

“I’m tired… I’m tired of feeling like this, like…”

A tear landed on the blanket, staining the fabric. 

“Maybe some people are just meant to go through life like this…” he said, like he was talking to no one in particular. “Maybe some people are not meant to get what they wish for, and that’s just how it is. And maybe… I’ll get used to it someday.”

She felt Ludvig’s eyes upon her. She leaned forward again. 

“Wilhelm-”

“Just promise me, please,” Wilhelm said. 

She stared at him. He was serious. He really meant it. He was prepared to give up the person he had fought tooth and nail to be with, the person he had come out publicly for, just so that person wouldn’t have to face consequences. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said. 

He met her eyes again, his own glassy. His face looked almost like porcelain. 

“Promise,” he said.

Kristina felt her throat and chest tighten. “I promise.”

He stared at her for a long time, like he was trying to read her, like he expected that the moment he looked away she’d change her mind or something. She watched him lean back against the pillows and let out a trembling breath.

She looked up at Ludvig, who seemed stunned, then tried to meet Wilhelm’s eyes again. 

“I hope you know that everything I’ve done has always been for your protection, for your well-being.”

Wilhelm was shaking his head. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, mum.”

“It’s the truth,” she retorted, angry. “Whether you like it or not. These are not easy decisions. If this were… a different situation…”

“Sure,” he muttered. 

“And I’ve never wished for anything to be different.”

He didn’t respond. Kristina tried to reach for his hand, but the moment she touched his fingers, he recoiled. 

She swallowed hard. 

“I do love you, Wilhelm,” she said, her voice thick. “I love you very much.”

He lifted his eyes toward her momentarily, then looked away again.

“Again… whatever you need to tell yourself.”

She was silent. Those words hurt more than if he had slapped her in the face. She stood up, like she had been scalded, and looked at Ludvig, before she looked down at him again.

“We will discuss the next steps in tomorrow’s meeting. I hope you’ll be there,” she stated flatly. 

“Okay, good,” Wilhelm responded, his voice suddenly thick.

Ludvig didn’t follow her for a moment, standing beside the bed, watching as Wilhelm rolled over onto his side and buried his face into the pillow, his body shaking. Ludvig lingered for one more moment, before following her out of the room. 

They stood outside the door, and said nothing. She headed toward the gardens, in dire need for some fresh air. 

“What are you going to do?” Ludvig asked, later that day, when they were in their bedroom winding down. They had sat together at dinner, but neither had spoken much. There was clearly as much in his mind as there was on hers. 

The weekend felt endless; Easter break was just beginning. Kristina felt exhausted already. 

“I don’t know…” she said, taking off her jewelry and placing it on the tray on her vanity. “What do you think I should do?”

He sat in the couch, shirt half undone. She watched him in the mirror, as he shook his head, staring at nothing in particular. 

“I don’t know, Kristina. I’m a bit worried.”

She didn’t say anything. She finished removing her earrings and placing them carefully in their box. Wilhelm’s words from earlier, along with Minou’s words from the day before, were going around and around in her head. 

Her eyes glided over the portraits of her sons on top of the vanity, two smiling faces staring back at her. She looked up at the mirror again and caught Ludvig’s face, brow etched with concern.

“Are you not?” he asked.

Kristina sighed. Was she not worried? Of course she was, she was worried about a lot of things, happening all at once, some expected and some unexpected. But she had neither time nor mind to just worry. She needed to act. 

“It’s too soon to tell,” she said simply, as she stood up and went to change her clothes. 

Notes:

Part two will be up very soon.
I would like to clarify that this is my perspective from Kristina’s perspective. I have read a lot of posts discussing the extent of her abuse, and they have been eye-opening and enlightening in so many. Personally, I don’t know what it’s like to experience abuse from a parent or parental figure, so perhaps my perspective is different from someone who has been, and who sees all the obvious signs of an abusive parent in Kristina. In my story, however, I went with my version of Kristina, who is purposely manipulative and emotionally abusive but is not fully aware of the damage that her manipulations and abuse are causing. She excuses herself and shields herself behind the institution that condones her behavior and the proverbial honor and duty of the crown, until she smacks face first into the consequences of her actions, i.e. her son’s deteriorating mental health. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the show, but in my story, I would like to hold on to the hope that Kristina will put her son’s well-being first at some point, instead of forcibly molding him into the crown prince that she wants at the expense of his own identity and happiness. 

Chapter 33: It’s hard, it’s hard to live alone…

Summary:

We all know what we want, but we don’t know how to get it.
Kristina POV (part 2)

Notes:

As promised, part two of Kristina.
I really hope that we get a Kristina that does right by her son. If she does, I might even be willing to forgive past abuses.
This is my take on how that would ideally go for me.
TW: anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD, depression, vomit, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, homophobia, internalized homophobia.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

On Monday morning, to Kristina’s surprise, Wilhelm was dressed and neat and in time for the meeting. He had dark puffy circles under his eyes, and barely said a word, greeting everyone with a glance and a nod. 

Kristina was sure he’d eaten anything yet, but at least he was there. He sat through the whole meeting, as they discussed the schedule for the week. A lot of time was allotted to both the king’s tenth anniversary on Thursday, the event at the Stockholm Toy Museum on Saturday, and the official Easter greeting message for Sunday. 

Farima shared the program for the Easter Eve event. The guest list included the museum’s staff and their families, and members of the Swedish Arts Council and their families. There would be no media outlets. The royal family would meet with the staff, get a tour of the exhibits, followed by opening remarks, official pictures, a traditional egg hunt, and games.

Farima cleared her throat. “And in the next page are the opening remarks, and we were hoping… since this is an event aimed at a younger audience, that the crown prince… would deliver them.”

Only then did Wilhelm look up. 

“I have to talk in front of…?”

Farima nodded. 

Kristina braced for a tantrum. Instead, Wilhelm looked around the table and nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

“Great,” Farima said after a beat, seeming surprised. “In that case, please take your time to go over them to make sure that…”

Kristina watched as Wilhelm’s eyes glided over the page and discussed the speech with Farima; he crossed out some words with a pencil and wrote over them, and she took notes. 

The last thing in the agenda was the report. A part of Kristina was still reluctant to have Wilhelm in the discussion, after Saturday, but she knew he’d bring it up anyway. 

The legal advisor, Magnus, revealed that the investigation on the anonymous report was on hold during Easter break, so they would have to wait until Tuesday for an update. 

“But you’re still protecting him, aren’t you?” Wilhelm said, just as Kristina had expected. 

“Right now it’s still to be determined how we can make sure that this case does not become public, but that is the goal,” Magnus responded. “This is actually standard for cases like this, to protect the privacy of all parts, not only that of the accused.”

Wilhelm pursed his lips and looked directly at his mother. 

“And he’s… he’d still be my backup… wouldn’t he?”

Kristina gave him a sympathetic look. “There should always be a backup. We’ve talked about this,” she stated. “That’s just how it is, whether we like it or not. Best to have it and not need it.”

The irony hit her as the words left her lips. 

Wilhelm let out a small noise, between a scoff and a chuckle.

Kristina felt a little sick all of a sudden, remembering the feeling in the pit of her stomach when she found out about Erik, the pain that had accompanied her for weeks after. 

Wilhelm took a deep breath. “What about the… um…” he began, looking around expectantly. 

Kristina nodded. “Ah yes. Minou and I talked about this yesterday, and we think that the rest of the Royal Court will agree, that it is in our best interest if we can keep the drugs issue under wraps. We certainly would not want your involvement in it to become known either, so we think it’s best if it’s dealt with swiftly and discreetly.”  

Jan-Olof looked a little taken aback, glancing between Minou and Kristina. Farima also looked surprised. 

“Okay. How?” Wilhelm asked. 

Minou cleared her throat.

“Well, we would contact the school and the police department, to make sure that any report regarding Simon Eriksson is flagged and we are alerted to it before any other steps are taken. And I can have our legal advisors speak with Linda Eriksson about what to do in the case that a report is made, or if she’s contacted by police or the school about it.” 

Wilhelm nodded. “Okay.”

“That would be it for now, since there’s no existing report,” she added. “We will need to know as much as we can about this issue, though, especially the names of anyone who knows about this. So I would need your cooperation.”

“Fine,” he said reluctantly.

“Very well, then,” Kristina said, beaming a little. 

Once the meeting ended, everyone started leaving, and Kristina overheard Wilhelm addressing Minou. 

“Have you spoken with Linda?”

Minou nodded. “Briefly, yes.” 

Wilhelm hesitated. Minou lingered for a moment, waiting for him to say something else, but then walked tentatively away.

The rest of them left, but Kristina stay put, watching Wilhelm, who sat in his chair, his eyes fixed on the page in front of him, although evidently not reading the words. He looked tired.

“Are you really doing your part?” he asked when he felt her watching him. Kristina nodded.

“Yes, Wilhelm. Everything we just said is true.”

He said nothing.

“You have nothing to worry about,” she added. “We’ll take care of it.”

He shot her a look. “I do worry. I imagine you get why, right? Why I don’t trust you to keep your end of the deal.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I could very well say the same about you.” 

“Right. Is that why you haven’t given me my phone back?”

Kristina blinked. She had genuinely forgotten that she took his phone from him and thrust it at Farima. The memory of her impulsiveness in that moment made her feel a little shocked.

Or maybe it had been what happened right after that.

If it were up to her, however, she would put him on communications lockdown, for the rest of the week at least. Because she did not trust him either. But one week was nothing, she thought. It was pointless.

“I thought it would also do you some good,” she lied, “kids these days spent too much time on their phones. But yes, Wilhelm, that’s one of the reasons why. Though I imagine that wouldn’t stop you so easily.”

“I take it as a sign of trust that you haven’t taken away my laptop too, then.”

Kristina didn’t answer. As much as she was pleased to have him keep his word and come to the meeting, his words from the previous  day still hurt, still went round and round painfully in her mind. 

“You know, Wilhelm,” she started, hands clasped on her lap, “I was under the impression that you were tired of the secrets and the lying. I thought you didn’t want any part of that. You said it yourself, on several instances, most memorably in your speech.” She gave him a look. “Yet you ask me to do just that now, on your behalf. To sweep things under the rug, as you say.”

He nodded, his pale face expressionless. “Yes, I’m a hypocrite. I admit it. I would very much like you to make this issue go away, so that the person I care about won’t be negatively affected by this. Because he doesn’t deserve to have his whole life ruined by this one mistake.” He met her eyes. “So, yeah, I’ll be a massive hypocrite, at least this once.”

He excused himself and stood slowly, grabbing the papers, and walked toward the door. She watched him go.

He was a hypocrite. It was all lies. The moment he returned to Hillerska, the moment he was back in the same place as Simon Eriksson, she knew that any promise he made would be broken. He wasn’t ‘letting go’ so easily, even if he had to keep it a secret.

Except that it would be an open secret. Loud and evident. Everyone would know, or at least suspect. They would never manage to escape it. They would never manage to hide it.

It was pointless, she thought again.

Farima came into Kristina’s office later, whilst she and Jan-Olof were going over last minute details for the commemorative event of the tenth anniversary of the king’s passing. She presented Kristina with Wilhelm’s mobile phone.

“Your Majesty, are you sure you don’t want to have the IT department clear it first? Make sure that all security measures are in place? If there’s be something that can be construed as evidence regarding the report or the video or the drugs, it would be best to look into it. I can ask the crown prince about it.”

Kristina shook her head.

“No, really, it’s fine, leave it with me. I will return it to him.”

Farima left it on her desk, whilst Kristina and Jan-Olof continued. 

Jan-Olof left as soon as they were done, and Kristina went to her desk and picked up the phone. 

She stared at it for a moment. Then, as if making up her mind about it, she flipped it open; the screen lit up. 

The background was that photo from Instagram, the one that a random person took during a walk around Bjärstad, when Wilhelm and Simon were on a lake pier, the sunrise pink sky behind them. Wilhelm had either gotten his hands on the photo, or he had screen-grabbed it from Instagram and edited it to make it into his phone background. 

She stared at it for a long time. 

A notification at the bottom indicated that there were two new messages. She didn’t know Wilhelm’s passcode, but even she knew that if she swiped up, she could see the messages anyway. In reverse chronological order, from the day before.

Felice - just let us know that you’re okay please everyone is so worried about you

Rosh - dont worry we’re coming to rescue u wille

Felice - are you okay? why aren’t you answering anyone?

Maddie - wille, tell us which window in the palace is yours so we can come rescue you

Felice - wille what happened?

Ayub - hey man, u okay? talk to us

Rosh - dude whats up? answer now

Felice - wille, rosh and ayub just told us part of it. what’s going on? 

Rosh - what happened

Rosh- hey we just found out

She scrolled back to the top, and stared at the last two messages, from earlier that day.

Felice - just let us know that you’re okay please everyone is so worried about you

Rosh - dont worry we’re coming to rescue u wille

Rescue him.

It seemed that Wilhelm’s friends were just as dramatic as he was.

She noticed there were no recent messages from Simon.

Kristina barely remembered the last time that Wilhelm had spent Easter break at home. 

The moment Erik started at Hillerska, it was like Wilhelm did his best to spend every minute away from Drottningholm. He was rarely persuaded to spend weekends at home. He’d go away for the holidays with friends, with Ludvig’s family, with anyone that would take him away, anywhere, skiing, sailing, hiking, to the beach, to the mountains, to the lakes… 

Having Wilhelm in the palace now was much like not having him at all, though. 

It was worse than it had been during Christmas break; she hadn’t been exaggerating when she called him a phantom. Kristina was prepared to encounter the apparition of her eldest son, but instead was haunted by the ghost of the son that was still supposed to be alive, gliding through the corridors, disappearing into rooms, being quiet, unspeaking.

Now he barely left his room, except to appear during the meeting. Kristina sent the maid to check on him every once in a while, and she reported that he spent all day in bed, sleeping, claiming to feel ill. She also indicated that Wilhelm had only eaten a little bit of broth, drank water and sometimes tea, and not much else. 

As always, Kristina wondered if he was doing a hunger strike. 

And he’d sleep for hours, and she had no idea if it was just him or the medications. 

It was like he couldn’t function properly. 

Minou and Magnus met with Wilhelm to get every detail from him about the drugs; who knew, what they knew, what happened, when it happened, what they did to retrieve the pill bottle, and whatever else he could come up with that might be relevant. 

“Well?” Kristina asked Minou later, when they were in her office afterwards. Minou had asked to meet with her to update her prior to the next meeting. “What is the preliminary assessment? Now that you, hopefully, have all the information?”

“Well, we don’t actually have all the information. We’ll have to speak with Linda, and possibly Simon, to get his side of the story,” Minou clarified. “But right now, our main concern is two people who might have some… skin in the game.”

One of them, she explained, was Alexander Bragé, a first year and resident of Forest Ridge who acted as a lackey for the third year boys, especially August, which was precisely the reason why he had gotten caught with the drugs coming back from the Society meeting, the same night that August had recorded the video of Wilhelm and Simon. They weren’t too worried about the other Society boys. But they worried that Alexander might still have a bone to pick with Wilhelm for his suspension and near expulsion. 

But their biggest concern was still August, who had gone as far as recruiting Alexander and using the stolen prescription drugs to blackmail Wilhelm and Simon already, and who was accumulating financial problems now, what with buying a horse for Sara Eriksson and having to pay for the upkeep of the animal whilst he found a new buyer, since the gift was rejected. 

“He… bought her… a horse?” Kristina repeated, thoroughly confused.

“Your Majesty, I really think we should strike a deal with him as soon as possible,” Minou responded. “If we bury this, and if August finds out that we buried this, there’s a chance that he could retaliate.”

“But he wouldn’t. He shouldn’t, since we are still protecting him,” Kristina said matter-of-factly. “He’d be stupid to jeopardize things further, he’s already on thin ice.”

Minou sighed. “The crown prince says that August feels unsure about where he stands with the Royal Court, maybe even slightly paranoid about trusting the Royal Court to protect him anymore. If this is true, then I don’t think we should expect any loyalty from him, just because we protected him before. He might become defensive and impulsive and act rashly.”

Kristina nodded. She was well aware of how August could be; after all, it was precisely how the video had made it onto the Internet. 

Had it been a rash decision, though? It was rash enough that he hadn’t covered his tracks well enough, but premeditated enough that he was fully aware of the predicted effects.

“We assume that, under the circumstances, August will receive legal assistance from his stepfather,” Minou continued. “So once we have all the information, we should find the best and quickest way to make a deal, before he has a chance to do anything reckless.”

Kristina nodded. “Very well. That’s a plan. Now all that’s left is for you to speak with Linda and Simon, then.”

“Yes, that should go smoothly,” Minou replied with a smile, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She stood up to leave.

“Minou?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

Kristina eyed her curiously. “What is your honest opinion of him?”

“Of…”

“Simon Eriksson.”

The woman stared at Kristina, eyebrows slightly raised. She took a moment before responding. 

“With all due respect, ma’am, I would really prefer to keep that to myself.”

“Right. I see.”

“In any case, you already know about my dealings with him.”

Kristina smile wryly. She had heard all about it, and she was not at all impressed by the story of how Simon adamantly refused the Royal Court potentially paying for his room and board at Forest Ridge if he didn’t get the grant, nor the story of Simon initially rejecting the Royal Court getting him a fencing uniform or tailoring his clothes or giving him a new wardrobe. She was even less impressed when he challenged Minou about these things. The boy had moxie, though, she admitted.

“I suppose that means you might not be too fond of him,” Kristina said. 

“Well, eh…” Minou shook her head lightly, “I wouldn’t say that.”

Kristina’s eyebrows rose. “Oh.”

“But that’s really all I will say about that, ma’am… I’d rather not… you understand,” Minou said, her cheeks suddenly pink. 

“Perfectly.”

Minou bowed and left. 

On the next meeting, the Royal Court discussed what Minou had exposed to Kristina earlier. To Kristina’s surprise, Wilhelm didn’t speak, merely listened, looking sullen.

Jan-Olof and the tailor came by Wilhelm’s room just after lunch, to fit the suits he’d be wearing for the events of the week, and found him curled up in a ball in bed, wearing joggers and a purple hoodie, and refused to get out of bed and be cooperative, saying he felt sick, complaining about a headache. He told them to please leave him alone. They left, but said they’d have to come back later anyway, because it was urgent that they should adjust his suits. 

Kristina told Ludvig about it during dinner. Ludvig said he was already aware of Wilhelm’s behavior. They ate in silence for a moment, and then Ludvig cleared his throat. 

“I was thinking of having a therapist come to see Wilhelm,” he said gravely.

Kristina stopped mid-bite and made a small noise, like a question mark. She finished chewing before she responded.

“I thought you said he’s been going to the school counsellor regularly.” 

“Yes, but, perhaps someone a little more dedicated would be good,” Ludvig elaborated. “I feel like the past few days have been taxing enough, and the doctor does suggest a psychological evaluation, in addition to the full checkup,” he said. 

“What?”

“He is very concerned about the fact that Wilhelm has barely been eating, and has been sleeping a lot. He said that these could be symptoms of depression.”

“Are you serious?” Kristina said, putting down her fork and sighing. Ludvig looked at her.

“What?”

She shot him a look and had a drink of water before speaking. “Ludvig, it’s been less than a week. I understand that he’s going through something. But depression?”

“Kristina,” he started. 

She turned to him, expectant, but he sighed.

“Never mind, I’ll take care of it.”

“Ludvig,” she said in turn.

“I will take care of it,” he repeated.

She fixed him with a stare. “I would rather you not encourage this.”

“I’m not…” He looked vexed, a flash of something painful crossing his eyes. Without another word, he continued eating, even as she watched him. They ate the rest of their dinner in silence.

The king’s anniversary event went without a hitch.

Or so Kristina had thought at first. 

It wasn’t until later that she found out that, in the middle of the service, the crown prince’s bodyguards and Minou had discreetly snuck him out of the church. He had admittedly looked green from the moment they left Drottningholm, but Kristina hadn’t thought much of it. They, luckily, noticed and escorted him out of the church to get fresh air, away from the public and the media outside.

Kristina would have been more outraged about Wilhelm disappearing in the middle of everything, were it not for the fact that at least the media hadn’t caught on at all. But this could not continue.

That evening she had the footman fetch Wilhelm so he’d join his parents for dinner.

Shockingly, Wilhelm did, he sat at the dinner table with them, but he stare silently at his food, not eating.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked pleasantly. 

“I don’t think so. I feel ill.”

“You need to eat, Wilhelm. You feel ill, because you haven’t eaten in days now.”

He swallowed hard before he spoke, like he was really struggling to speak without dry heaving. 

“I haven’t eaten because I feel ill.”

“And what exactly is making you ill?”

Wilhelm didn’t answer. 

“Very well. Antonia, take away his plate.”

He looked guilty as the maid, Antonia, came over and retrieved the untouched plate of food. He sighed and apologized to her, and lifted his serviette from his lap onto the table, pushing his chair back. 

“Excuse me, I’ll be in my room.”

“You are not excused.”

Wilhelm stopped and looked at his mother. “What?”

“You will stay here,” Kristina clarified. 

He looked perplexed, glancing between her and his father.

“You may not want to eat, but you will at least spend time with your family,” she added, gesturing for him to sit back down. 

He did, slowly. 

“Mum, I… I really don’t feel well…”

“Well, Wilhelm, tomorrow is a very busy day, followed by a very important event the next day. Your first official public appearance, if I may point out. You are giving a speech, and meeting the museum people and there will be activities, and you will be expected to participate and be in your best disposition and smile for the photographs. So I suggest you get well very soon.”

He nodded slowly, breathing deeply through his nose.

“I know. I’m…” he forced himself to say. “’m not like this to spite you.”

She had heard him say that before, but she wasn’t sure if she believed him anymore. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him that he was ill, but that he hadn’t gotten better. Like maybe he was putting on an act to get her attention. 

“Wilhelm, I thought we had a deal. I’m keeping my end of the deal,” she said. “And I didn’t come up with this deal, you did.”

“Kristina, not now, please,” Ludvig said gently. 

She turned to him, accusingly. 

“If not now, when?” she asked. “If not now, then when are we going to see truly how serious he is about this?” 

Wilhelm breathed deeply, like he was trying to say something, but bracing himself for it.

Kristina put down her utensils and turned to him fully. 

“Älskling, I understand that you’re nervous, I was nervous too when I was your age. And so was Erik. But you’re just going to have to learn to overcome that. It’s not easy, but it’s possible.”

He clenched his jaw, shoulders tense. 

“It’s not just that…” he muttered through gritted teeth, “and you… know it.”

Without meaning to, she rolled her eyes. She tried to fix her face, to look sympathetic, as she turned back to him.

“Wilhelm, you made a promise. I expect you to keep it. What does it say about us if we go around making promises that we don’t plan to keep?”

Wilhelm’s eyes widened slightly. He clapped a hand over his mouth and dashed out of his chair on shaking legs; he pushed through the swinging door to the right and into the butler pantry. The door swung back closed, but the sound of retching, coughing and sputtering still reached her ears through the door. She grimaced. 

Ludvig looked stunned and stood up and followed him, swinging the door open.

“I- I’m so sorry… I’m sorry…” Wilhelm was saying, breathing hard. Antonia’s voice interrupted him.

“Please, Crown Prince, don’t worry, it’s okay… please, let me get you some water…”

“Get him some ginger ale, that should help him,” Ludvig said. “How about ginger ale? Or a ginger tea?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” There was a commotion, doors opening, clattering of glass. 

Kristina remained in her seat, even as Ludvig disappeared into the butler pantry, and they didn’t come out again until a few minutes later, Ludvig supporting Wilhelm by the arm. He helped him to his chair, and Antonia came out behind them and placed a steaming cup of ginger tea in front of Wilhelm.

“Drink that, it should help you feel much better,” Ludvig said, returning to his seat. He glanced at Kristina, but she didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, Kristina picked up her fork and tried to continue eating, though she felt a little revolted after all that. 

She chewed her food and finally glanced up at Wilhelm, who picked up the teacup carefully and lifted it to his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut as he took a sip, and a tear trickled down his cheek. 

Kristina sighed and continued eating.

Was he completely unprepared for this role? Should she had done more to prepare him as a spare? 

There was no doubt of that. But she never could have imagined that she’d find herself in a situation like this. 

Minou came by later to inform her of what she and Magnus got from Linda and Simon. 

“Magnus is putting together everything. He’ll be in touch with August and his mother and stepfather soon, to set a date for us to meet and talk about this, work on a solution for everyone. Perhaps we’ll have to find a way to work around the ban.”

“Thank you, Minou,” Kristina said. “Did it go as well as you hoped?”

“You could say that, yes,” Minou replied candidly.

“And,” Kristina hesitated, “how is Simon?”

“Well, I… I didn’t speak with him directly. Only Linda.”

“Oh. Well… in that case, let’s hope that, since Linda didn’t mention anything, that it means he’s okay.”

Minou nodded. “Yes, let’s hope so.”

When they finished, Kristina took the phone from the desk drawer, where she had been keeping it. She flipped it open momentarily, noticed all the new notifications, and flipped it closed again without reading them. She put it in her pocket and went to his room, to return it.

Outside of his room, Malin bowed her head. 

The door was ajar. She heard Ludvig’s voice, and peeked inside. 

Ludvig sat on the edge of the bed, his back to the door, a hand on top of a lump of bedsheets and blankets.

“… come evaluate you, at least. That would be a start. Would you like that?” Ludvig was saying. 

The lump didn’t answer right away.

“Um… what happens when I go back to school?”

“We can work something out, I’m sure.”

They fell silent. The lump stirred minimally. 

“Have you talked to Simon?” Ludvig asked. The lump sighed.

“I don’t have my phone,” he said hoarsely. “Mum took it.”

Ludvig nodded slowly. “Would you like to use mine?”

“Dad, I don’t… I don’t know if I should… and… What am I gonna say?”

“Oh, well… I don’t know… I just think he’d probably like to know if you’re okay.”

There was a long pause.

“Am I?”

Ludvig sighed. 

“Perhaps you can text him.”

The lump shifted and fell heavily against the pillow. “I… what difference does it make?”

Another long silence.

“I made a promise… I said I wouldn’t break any more promises…”

“I do think that was a very big promise, Wilhelm. Your mother said so too.”

“I’m not talking about the one I made to mum… I promised him that I would protect him no matter what. That I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, and… I have to make good of that promise, even if…”

There was a lot of shifting and stirring, and she could see Ludvig moving his hand. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I don’t think… I’m… it feels like I’m dying… again…”

“What…?”

“I feel like I’m dying… and she doesn’t care…”

“Your mother does care…”

“No, she doesn’t…”

Loud sniffling, and a lot of mumbled words, like Wilhelm was speaking into the pillow. 

There was another long pause. Then Wilhelm said something else that Kristina couldn’t quite catch. Ludvig nodded and stroked the blankets.

“Yes… I miss him too…” he said. 

Wilhelm rolled onto his back. 

“I wish… I could talk to him…”

Kristina backed away from the door. She hesitated for a long moment before she started walking away. Malin bowed her head again. 

Saturday morning, Wilhelm looked and sounded like he had a cold. But he was dressed in a blue suit, which was a good color on him and made him look a little more lively. Kristina still asked her stylist to do something about the dark circles under his eyes. Wilhelm did not protest, even if he looked sullen as the woman dabbed concealer under his eyes. 

They arrived at the Stockholm Toy Museum, a privately-owned museum, also called the Bergrummet because it was literally inside a mountain cavern in Skeppsholmen, in the middle of Stockholm.

The official photographer fluttered around them as they came in. The museum director, managers and curators, and their young children stood in line, and Kristina came through first, shaking everyone’s hands as they introduced themselves, followed by Wilhelm, and then Ludvig, with Minou and Elisa and Jan-Olof and the security details darting around. 

The director shared a bit of the history of the museum, as they began the tour through the exhibits in the underground tunnels. Thousands of toys lined the nooks and crannies of the stone walls, behind glass, with lights and colorful displays and thematic videos.

Many of the children at the event were dressed in traditional witch costumes, bright pink circles and large black freckles painted on their cheeks. The director’s daughter, about five years old and wearing a blue scarf over her dark curls, walked alongside them as they toured the exhibits. Kristina watched, amused and delighted, when they stood in front of a display of dolls, and Wilhelm crouched beside the little girl. 

“Which one is your favorite?” she heard him ask. The little put a finger to her gap-toothed smile before pointing to one of the dolls on the other side of the glass.

“Why that one?” Wilhelm asked her. She let out a tiny giggle.

“Because it looks like Pippi Långstrump!” 

“You’re a fan of Pippi Långstrump?” The girl nodded. “What’s your favorite thing about Pippi, that she’s strong or that she has a monkey?”

Kristina absently tilted her head as she watched them.

“You okay?” Ludvig asked. She realized she had zoned out, and chuckled at herself. 

They walked on. Two young tour guides stood by, and the director introduced them. One of them a young woman with long, curly light brown hair, was jittery, her lips pressed together as if she was trying to keep from smiling widely. The young man had dark hair and glasses, and he looked like he was embarrassed on his coworker’s behalf. 

“Crown Prince,” the girl said, trying to contain her excitement when it was her turn to shake his hand.

“Lisa is one of our youngest tour guides,” the director said.

“Nice to meet you,” Wilhelm smiled at her.

“Nice to meet you too…”

He exchanged some pleasantries with the girl, asking her how long she’d worked there, and did she like it, and she explained that she worked there for almost a year, part time whilst attending university. He asked what she was studying, and she talked about education. The director continued walking with Kristina and Ludvig, Wilhelm and Lisa trailing behind them, Malin at a distance. Kristina kept an ear on their conversation, especially when the young woman lowered her voice.

“… know, I hope it’s not too forward or rude to say that… you were really… I- I thought you were… so brave in your speech,” the girl was saying, her voice brimming with excitement or emotion. 

“Oh,” Wilhelm sounded a little constrained. “Well, thanks.”

“I was so happy about what you said. I… I feel like it made me feel… braver, and… I decided to come out to my family.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kristina saw Wilhelm’s face light up a little. 

“Oh, that’s… that’s great. Congratulations,” he responded. The girl giggled excitedly.

“Thanks… And thank you for the courage to do it.”

They fell silent as they stood in front of a display of Disney character toys. 

“And…” Wilhelm began tentatively, “how do you feel after that?”

The girl chuckled. “I… heh… it might be a bit of a cliché, but I felt, I feel… lighter, and… more myself. I don’t know why I was so afraid, but…”

“That’s really great. I’m very happy for you.”

Kristina felt a little tug in her chest.

“I wanted to thank you for that, and I thought…well, I wanted to give you… this. I don’t know if you’d wear it, or even keep it, but I still wanted to give it to you, as a thank you. I hope it’s not too bold. I made it myself. I make these.”

From her angle, Kristina could see the girl holding a tiny purple velvet object with both hands and presenting it to Wilhelm. 

“Thank you,” he said curtly. It was a bag, it turned out, and he reached into it and produced a small object. He held it between two fingers and stared at it.

“You made this?” he asked after a moment, sounding a bit breathless.

“Yeah,” she said, turning a bit red. 

He nodded. “It’s really nice.” He flashed an awkward smile at her. “Thank you,” he repeated. 

She nodded awkwardly, and after a moment, she glanced back at her coworker, and they exchanged wide-eyed grins. 

“Is it okay if I take a picture with you? It’s just for me, I won’t post it anywhere, I promise…”

The coworker was in charge of taking the picture, Wilhelm flashing a genuine smile for the camera. Lisa looked excitedly at it and thanked him. They kept talking about something else. Kristina tried to look nonchalant and pay attention to the director, but she saw Wilhelm holding whatever it was the girl had given him, between his fingers still, glancing at it every once in a while. 

“… going back to school on Tuesday, isn’t it?” Lisa was asking now.

“Yeah…” Wilhelm muttered.

“I know, me too. But at least, in your case, you get to see Simon again.”

Kristina grimaced, and glanced at his face, to see his reaction. 

Wilhelm’s face, however, remained blank. He simply nodded and let out a small hum. 

“You two look really happy together.”

There was a pause, as Wilhelm seemingly tried to keep his face composed. 

“Thanks.” He suddenly glanced around. “Um…”

“Are you alright?”

He nodded. “I have to go. But thank you so much for this,” he said, gesturing to the object still in his hand. 

“Okay, so nice to meet you at last.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Wilhelm walked briskly past Kristina and Ludvig and the director and Minou and Jan-Olof and Elisa. Malin walked behind him. They disappeared around the corner. 

Kristina sighed, and gestured to Minou to go check on him. Minou gestured to Elisa to follow her, and they went in the same direction that Wilhelm had gone.

They found him in the museum café. 

“Is everything okay?” Kristina asked. Minou smiled. 

“Yes, the crown prince just needed a water and a coffee.”

Wilhelm did not look okay. He was pallid, rummaging through his pockets. 

“Crown Prince, please sit, I’ll get you the coffee and water,” Minou indicated. 

He didn’t seem to hear her. He finally pulled something crinkly out of his pocket. He breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Are you okay?” Ludvig asked him. 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he rubbed his chest, and looked frantically around. He darted off to the right, and Kristina realized that he was heading for the toilet. Malin walked right in after him, then came out a moment later. As the door closed, Kristina heard the sound of retching. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Shall we head back to the hall, to meet with the rest of the guests? It’s almost time to get started,” Jan-Olof announced, as if everything was fine. 

“Yes, perhaps we should,” Kristina said pleasantly. Ludvig shook his head and smiled.

“I’ll stay and wait for him.”

Minou cleared her throat. “No, Your Royal Highness, I’ll bring him as soon as he’s ready.”

“Yes, Ludvig, we should go,” Kristina said. She got closer to Minou. “Make sure he doesn’t faint, please.”

Minou looked a little uncomfortable, gesturing to Elisa to grab the coffee that Wilhelm had ordered. 

A few minutes later, they were back in the main hall with a lot of colorful lights and designs on the walls. There was a podium shaped like three oversized wooden toy cubes spelling out LEK. Around the room was a sort of Rube Goldberg machine, with a colorful ball making its way around via a toy car, a toy train, a toy spaceship, a toy baby stroller, etc. The children were gathered on the floor, and the two young guides from earlier, the curly-haired girl and the dark-haired boy, were asking them what their favorite part of the museum was. The photographer was capturing every moment. 

Down the tunnel, she spotted them. Wilhelm was flanked by Malin and Minou, Elisa trailing behind. Minou was talking to Wilhelm, and he was just nodding. He still looked pale, or maybe it was just the lighting in the place. 

She watched as Wilhelm stopped behind a structure and tossed back something, a pill presumably, and downed it with water. Then he grabbed the coffee from Elisa and chugged it in a few gulps.

Minou led him toward the group. He adjusted his tie and stood around awkwardly. 

“What happened?” Kristina asked Minou as soon as they were close enough.

“The crown prince was not feeling well. He’s… he took the prescribed nausea medication and sedative.”

“Why?”

“He said that was all he could do, if we prefer that he doesn’t vomit over the microphone, so… Unfortunately that means that it’ll be about half an hour before the medication makes him very drowsy. He had a coffee to counter the effects as much as possible.”

Kristina tried to keep her face neutral as she turned to look at him. 

“Should you have been drinking coffee? You did just empty your stomach,” she murmured to him. 

“I’m fine,” he said, breathing hard. He looked paler up close.

She stared at him for a moment. She was angry at him, but also he was still here. She could see that he was really trying, jaw clenched, a look of panic in his eyes. 

“Wilhelm, you don’t have to do the speech, it’s okay.”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“It’s okay, really. I can take over.”

He looked at her pointedly. “I’ll do the speech,” he repeated. “It’s part of the deal.”

He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his speech notes. 

“Isn’t this what you want?” he asked, not looking at her. “Didn’t you want me to be able to put my feelings aside and be able to power through situations like this? Or are you afraid I’m gonna go up there and fuck up? Or that I might drop another bombshell?”

“This is absurd,” she muttered under her breath, when everyone started clapping. The museum director had stepped up to the podium. With a bright smile, the director thanked everyone for being there, and announced that the Crown Prince had a few words.

Kristina felt her heartbeat quicken as Wilhelm left her side and walked up to the podium and adjusted the microphone. He looked decidedly peaky, despite the colorful lights. 

He took a few deep breaths and cleared his throat, staring at the notes, before looking up and displaying a forced and tense smile. But he started speaking nonetheless, following the speech notes. He spoke slightly stunted at first, his fingers trembling on the podium a little. Then he said something funny, a play on words that he came up with himself, and the children and adults laughed, and Kristina felt herself relax a little.

Despite everything, he was doing a pretty good job. Still, it was like she was waiting for something dramatic to happen, like he’d to do something drastic, much like during the jubilee, or he’d indeed be sick over the podium or faint or run off in a panic.

So she didn’t completely relax until he finished. She barely even paid attention to his words, bracing herself, until the echoing applause from the crowd filled the hall and her ears. And she was a bit stunned as she smiled and clapped along with everyone else. The director took to the podium again as Wilhelm came back to her side, and Kristina beamed at her son proudly.

It wasn’t until he came back to her side that she noticed that he had put something on his lapel. And finally she knew what that girl had given him just a few moments ago.

It was a little enamel pin, smaller than a krona, of two little waving flags crossing poles, a Swedish flag and a rainbow flag.

“You’re-” she began, but stopped herself. 

He looked earnestly at her, like he expected her to finish her sentence. But she didn’t.

This was him asking her to accept him, this was him telling her that this was who he was, and she could take it or leave it, but he wasn’t hiding anymore. 

No matter what she did, no matter if she tried to cut Simon out of his life, Wilhelm was still a queer prince. Not the first queer prince, of course, not a chance. But the first one who had been publicly outed, the first one to publicly confirm to being in a relationship with a boy. The first one who seemed to refuse to be punished or shamed for it. 

She was not going to be able to combat that. For the rest of his life, he’d be the queer prince. World renowned. 

Did that have to be a bad thing? 

Not necessarily. She simply didn’t know what to do with it.

She looked back up at him. He looked older, a little weathered, and yet the fear in his eyes was childlike.

He was no longer the little boy from the picture on her vanity, all big gap-toothed smile. He was no longer the little boy who sought her out when the noises in the night made him scared. 

He was now this young man, who had looked deeply lost when he arrived home after the news of his brother’s death, who tearfully apologized for a video that was not his fault, who became a phantom during the holidays, who ranted and raged at her and everyone. He was this young man now whom she hadn’t seen genuinely smile in a long time.

But he was still her son. 

“You… did very well,” she finally said. He, however, did not look relieved. 

As soon as the director finished speaking, the photographer asked them all to get ready for the pictures, one assistant running around arranging everyone in the right order. Wilhelm stood in the middle of his parents in the center, the museum folk and their children arranged around them. Behind the photographer, Minou was gesturing for them to smile. 

The tour guides then announced that the egg hunt would start soon. In the midst of the commotion, Wilhelm disappeared, and Kristina realized that Malin was gone too. 

Minou approached a moment later to let her know that the crown prince had been taken back to the car by his bodyguards as soon as he started feeling drowsy, and that they were driving him to the palace.

“Is he sleeping?”

“Not sure, ma’am.”

Kristina and Ludvig had returned from the museum event, and she came by Wilhelm’s room to check on him. Joakim shared that the crown prince had been out like a light when they arrived, and they had to wait a while before they could coax him out of the car and into the palace and to his room. 

She came into the room as quietly as she could and stood there, by the door, watching the bed. Wilhelm’s figure was in there, yes, but it wasn’t clear if he was asleep or not. He had changed into joggers and that purple hoodie that she was now certain belonged to Simon. 

She didn’t know how much time passed, but she decided that he was asleep, and left the room.

“Let me know when he wakes up,” she said to Joakim. 

Farima came into her office a bit later, to go over the photos from the event that would accompany the press release.

Kristina went over them and blinked in surprise. In every single one, Wilhelm looked blanched, gaunt, unsmiling. The few ones where he did, the smile did not reach his eyes. His eyes looked dark. He looked… haunting.

She wanted to say that he had done that on purpose, but he looked literally sick. Like he hadn’t eaten properly in days, had been nauseated and throwing up, had been sleeping a lot. Like he was literally and figuratively falling apart.

Wilhelm had never been able to hide himself fully, she realized. 

Whether he apologized for the nightclub fight, whether he denied the video, he came across as performative. As much as he tried to fake anything, the truth bubbled to the surface, in his voice and gestures and facial expressions. 

Erik had been different. Erik, she noticed, had a public persona, and it was starkly different from the real Erik. Or at least that was her perception. Erik had no trouble playing a role. 

Wilhelm could only be himself. 

She kept telling herself that Wilhelm would get better, that maybe he just needed more time. That he’d get used to it.

Or maybe he would just come undone. 

It was late and she was tired. The day had felt longer than it had actually been, and she sat around the bedroom idly, feet propped up on an ottoman. She was thinking, but she didn’t want to think anymore.  

The door opened. Ludvig came in, looking just as weary. He didn’t say anything. 

“Where have you been?” she asked him casually, even she knew very well where he had been. He sank into a nearby armchair and propped up his feet too, next to hers. 

“I went to see Wilhelm,” he said, his voice gruff and tired. She nodded.

“Did he talk to you?”

He shook his head. “No. I was just…”

“What?”

“I just checked on him… he was asleep.”

“I see,” she said with another nod. 

He took a deep breath, staring off into space. 

“I just wanted to… make sure,” he said absently. 

She turned her head toward him slowly, staring at him for a moment.

“What are you implying?”

He met her eyes and frowned. 

“Why do you pretend to not know? Why do you act like you don’t care?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice low. She knew exactly what he meant.

He breathed and rubbed his forehead. 

“I mean you… you’ve been… acting like this is not really happening. Like this has nothing to do with you.”

Kristina put her feet down and stood up, throwing up her hands.

“I will not talk to you like this,” she said, shaking her head and going to the vanity. She had not taken anything off, hadn’t changed her clothes, had been too tired, had been trying to recharge a bit, but she wanted to get away from him. However, as she sat down in the bench, she saw him appear behind her in the mirror. 

“Kristina, I feel like this is the exact same discussion that we had over a month ago. And even then you didn’t want to have it.” He slumped his shoulders. “You… you’re behaving like nothing happened, like there’s… like the stakes are not higher.”

She removed her watch and placed it methodically in its case, and then her bracelets, and tried to ignore his gaze in her mirror. He started pacing.

“You saw him. You have seen how he is now. You can see what’s going on with him. And yet you-” he paused, like he had trouble putting the words together. “I don’t want to think about it myself, but I can’t literally not think about it every second now.”

She was shaking her head. She stood up, if only because she felt suddenly thirsty. 

Ludvig followed her. “Ever since Erik-”

“Do not say it.”

“Are you prepared to lose another son? Because I’m not.”

She stopped in front of the little table with the water jug, and the glasses, and hastily poured herself one, taking a big gulp. She breathed, satiated. She shook her head again.

“Why must you be so dramatic? We’re not losing him.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it might be,” he said, glaring at her now. “It only sounds like you’re in denial.” 

She poured herself more water. 

“He’s in danger,” Ludvig continued earnestly. “We’re in danger of losing him too.”

“How exactly?”

“I don’t know, Kristina, so many ways. I’ve never seen him like this, and it scares me. At this point, I wouldn’t rule anything out. Malnourishment, a broken heart, a- a- a razor, or- throwing himself off the highest part of the palace, or another car accident-”

She slammed the water glass down, splashing a little onto the table. “Will you stop-”

“No! No, I won’t!”

Ludvig rarely spoke so loudly, let alone at her. He ran a hand through his hair. “I need to do something. I’ve always let you handle this, because I know I have to take a step back when it comes to our sons, because you are the queen, and I understand that, but in this case I can’t. I can’t.” He shook his head. “I can’t lose him too.” 

She stood squarely in front of him, and he shook his head slowly, glaring at her. She couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at her like that. 

“You may have your precious plan B, your backup, but that’s not enough for me.” He pointed at his own chest. “I need my son. We both do. And we need to help him. Why won’t you help him?

Kristina turned on her heel and walked to the bathroom. She didn’t bother closing the door, she just stood, hands grasping the edge of the sink, looking at the drain. She looked up for a moment into the mirror and saw the tears welling up in her own eyes.

“Kristina…” Ludvig’s voice appeared behind her, as he came in. She flinched before he could touch her shoulder.

“You make me sound like a monster…” she whispered. She wiped a tear angrily from her cheek before it left a mark. 

He sighed and leaned against the wall. 

“Of course I don’t think you’re a monster,” he said in a thick, heavy whisper. “But I think… there is a monster, and you refusing to believe in it won’t make it go away.”

She looked up at the mirror and met his gaze in the reflection. He looked like he was on the verge of tears too. 

Kristina didn’t want to admit he was right. Because somewhere in her mind she had the crazy logic loose that if she ignored it for long enough, it would go away. Like believing in monsters, like trying to make the fear go away. 

But it was real. It didn’t look like a monster, but it sure felt like it, and it suddenly felt awfully, terrifyingly real.

She stared at her own reflection, wiping more tears from her face automatically. Like even she shouldn’t see herself like this. 

That’s how she was raised, that’s what was expected of her. To be composed, collected, unwavering, unfaltering. And even more as a woman. She had the impossible task of being both the mother of a nation and an actual mother… 

If she lost her two sons, would she even still be a mother? Would Sweden even want a queen who couldn’t keep her two children alive? 

A sob escaped her. The tension and fear of the past week burst out of her like a storm, and she broke down, clutching at the edge of the sink for support, her own legs losing all strength. 

Two arms turned her and wrapped around her, squeezed her into a tight embrace. She clung to Ludvig. 

The last time she had lost control of her emotions like this was the day that she was called about Erik’s accident.

They had all lost Erik that day. But as much as she felt a part of herself had died along with him that day, it was like all of Wilhelm had died and he became a husk. A husk that only came back to life when he was with that boy. 

That boy…

That boy might be the only reason Wilhelm hadn’t done any of the horrible things that Ludvig had mentioned, the only reason why he hadn’t become an empty shell. Until now. 

Because she sent that boy away.

Simon… His name was Simon.

Kristina pressed her face to Ludvig’s shoulder. 

He gently led her to a bench just outside the bathroom and they sat down, and he stroked her back until her crying subsided.

Ludvig was right. If she didn’t do something soon, she’d lose everything. They both would. 

“There’s still a chance,” he said, like he could read her thoughts. 

She nodded. 

“There must be something that can be done,” he added.

She nodded again, face red, throat painful. 

“There is, yes.”

“Then please do it. Please help him,” he implored. “Please.”

She nodded once more, looking up at him.

“Yes, we will.”

She had calmed down after a while, and he had a maid bring them chamomile tea. The maid arrived with the tray and Ludvig thanked her as she left. Kristina hid her red face from view just in case. 

She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and sighed. 

“He genuinely thinks I don’t care about him, doesn’t he?”

Ludvig lifted the lid of the teapot, to check the steeping process. “What makes you think that?”

“The fact that he said it to my face,” she said. “Multiple times. When we were arguing… when he asked me to make that promise… and I thought that meant that he was saying it to hurt me, to get a reaction from me. But… then I heard him say to you too.”

Ludvig raised his eyebrows. “Ah.”

“He really thinks I don’t love him.”

This time it wasn’t a question. But Ludvig shook his head. 

“He’s in pain,” he said. “He’s grieving.” 

Kristina turned to him. 

“Grieving?”

“Grieving everything. He’s still grieving his brother, and now he’s grieving… his first love.”

He poured her a cup, and she cradled it in her hands and waited a bit before she could sip it.  

“None of us has been through anything similar,” Ludvig said, nursing his own cup. “We’re also still grieving Erik, yes. But it’s not just that for him, it’s an avalanche of things right now. He lost his brother and became crown prince, he was unfairly outed to the world, lost the boy he loved, got back together with him, lost him again…” He shook his head. “What else does that do to a person?”

It was hard to think of that. But she thought back to the argument from exactly a week ago, the things that Wilhelm had said to her, gotten off his chest. It was a lot for one person to feel at the same time, enough to make them justifiably become unwell, she supposed.

“I do love him.”

“I know.”

“He doesn’t.”

Ludvig sighed heavily.

“He does know, he just… he’s having a hard time believing it, I guess.”

She pursed her lips.

“Do you want August to be next in line?” he asked. 

Kristina shot him a look. 

“No, of course not. Not really.” She started at the bottom of her cup. “But… it’s not really about what I want, is it?”

He came over to sit right next to her on the bench. 

“What do you want, Kristina?” he asked, making her look him in the face. “If it could be about what you want, what is that?”

She didn’t respond at first.

“I want Wilhelm to stop being so… challenging.” She sighed. “I want him to be the best crown prince.”

“Okay, what else?”

“I want him to want to be the best crown prince.”

“What else?”

“I want…” she hesitated, feeling like it was even preposterous to say it out loud.

“I want… Erik back.” 

There. She said it. 

“But I want Wilhelm too… I want both my sons here… and… I want things to go back to the way they were. I want none of this to have happened.”

Ludvig nodded. “Including Wilhelm not finding someone that he loves and cares for? Not discovering something about himself?”

She didn’t answer. She let out a heavy sigh.

“I just want both my children alive and happy.”

“Of course.” He nodded again. “But… if Simon makes Wilhelm happy… if he somehow helps him become the best crown prince… don’t you want that then?” 

She didn’t answer again. Instead she finished her tea.

Before they went to bed, she took the phone, which she had left in her blazer pocket, and flipped it open. The background picture of two smiling boys haloed in gold and pink skies flashed at her in the darkness. 

She woke up heavily, eyes bleary. She rolled over on the bed and looked at the time. It had been a long time since she had woken up this late on a Sunday. 

But it wasn’t just any Sunday. It was Easter morning. 

Instinctively she reached toward the nightstand for her phone, but when she looked at it, it wasn’t her phone. It was Wilhelm’s again. She had left it there last night. 

Curiously, she flipped it open. There were several notifications, presumably from his friends. But the most recent ones, the ones at the top, were all from Simon.

- i love you

- i miss you

- please let me know youre okay

- happy easter

- i love you

- no matter what happens

- please remember what i said

- mi amor

Ludvig woke up and rolled over toward her.

“Happy Easter,” he said sleepily. “How are you?”

She looked at him and shrugged. She rarely shrugged, rarely felt this confounded. 

He propped himself up a little and kissed her forehead.

“I hope we can resolve this by tomorrow,” he said gently. “Before he returns to Hillerska.”

She nodded, and gave him a small smile, which he returned. 

After a moment, Ludvig got out of bed and went to the bathroom. The maid came in a minute later with coffee and the newspapers, and opened the drapes. Kristina’s eyes adjusted to the brightness as she reached for the newspapers, but then stopped herself.

She had other pressing matters to attend to first.

Kristina rarely left her rooms without getting ready for the day, even on holidays. Today she put on her robe and shuffled out of the bedroom, Wilhelm’s phone in her hand, and went down the corridor toward his bedroom. 

He was presumably still asleep.

And yet, neither Malin nor Joakim were outside his door. She looked around, confused. Opening the door carefully, she found the room empty.

She wandered down the hallway and spotted Joakim around the corner. 

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing as soon as he spotted her. 

“What is going on?” she asked in lieu of a greeting, gesturing toward the door.

“He couldn’t sleep, ma’am, he said he needed to get out of his room. So he came here.”

Kristina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Is he asleep in there, then?”

“I believe so, ma’am. Last I checked, about twenty minutes ago.”

Kristina nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, then,” she said, and climbed the steps. She stopped outside the door, listening for any signs of life, and pushed it open carefully. All the drapes and curtains were drawn, but the spring sun still filtered through.

Wilhelm lay curled up in bed, a blanket that he had presumably brought over from his own room wrapped over his body. On top of the blanket lay Erik’s military jacket, like an extra layer. 

She watched him for a moment, the pale freckled skin, the dark circles under his eyes. 

She suddenly remembered when Wilhelm and Erik were little, and they would have an egg hunt in the garden. They were not to dress as witches, as it was traditional, but at least had their cheeks painted with red and spotted with black freckles. One time Erik ate so many chocolate eggs that he became sick for two whole days. 

She sat gently beside him and looked around at Erik’s things, at the pictures on the mirror, the one of Erik holding his baby brother. 

Wilhelm stirred beside her and flinched in surprise at the sight of  her.

“Hey, gubben,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

He rubbed his eyes and rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“I had a nightmare,” he started. “Been having the same nightmare for most of the week.”

She turned more toward him, to show him she was listening. 

“I don’t remember the whole thing, I never do. but… you were in it. Sort of. I was alone in the palace, there was no one else at all, and… I just remember going through every room looking for someone, anyone. Then I would try to go outside, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get out… I was trapped, all by msyelf. And then… I woke up.”

Kristina nodded. “And where was I?”

He shook his head slowly. “You had told me that I needed to be there, that I had to be ready to succeed you, but… you weren’t there. You left me alone. I had no one.”

She let out a slow breath. “I see. I’m sorry.”

He looked up at her, frowning at her in confusion. “How did you know I was here?”

“I came looking for you. I wanted to see how you were.” She patted his arm. “I’ve been really worried about you, älskling.” 

“Have you?”

“I’m always worried about you, Wilhelm.”

“Are you?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry if it’s not always clear. I care about you very much, Wilhelm. You’re my son, and I love you. And I want you to be well.”

He paused. “But…?”

“What do you mean?”

“But I haven’t been well. And it didn’t seem like you cared much.”

“I do. I just… I wish I could have a magic solution to all of this, but I don’t.”

he looked hurt. “So you let me just… be unwell?”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed again. “I’m really sorry, Wilhelm.”

She handed him his phone, as if she were extending an olive branch. He stared at it for a moment, confused, distrusting. 

“It’s all in there, nobody has looked through it or done anything to it. I promise.” She shrugged. “I just wanted you to not be distracted, and I thought this was the best way, but… I guess I was wrong.”

Wilhelm had flipped the phone open and was scrolling through his messages, his lips pressed in a tight line. His eyes brimmed with tears immediately. Kristina waited for him. He did something and then closed the phone again, and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of the purple hoodie.

“Let’s talk,” she said, adjusting her position. “Let’s both talk. And listen.”

He looked unsure.

“And if I may start…” she added, “I know how difficult this has been for you, and I’m sorry for the things I said and did that made you feel like I didn’t care about you and your feelings.” She reached for his hand, and to her surprise he didn’t recoil this time. “I wasn’t only humoring you. I was… trying something. See how it could work out.” She shook her head. “But it wasn’t fair to you that I didn’t tell you that.”

He sat up slowly, the blanket still over his legs, along with Erik’s jacket. He stared down at it. Kristina took a deep breath.

“I will keep my end of the deal,” she said. “But we can discuss yours. We don’t have to keep it as it is. We can work something out.”

He didn’t look up at her at first. “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t immediately trust you.” His eyes met hers now, his gaze hard. “I learn from experience.”

Kristina nodded. 

He looked down at the jacket again, and closed his eyes.

“Do you remember when I asked you if I was being punished for being queer?” he asked, but didn’t wait for her to answer. “You said no. But… I still feel like that. I feel worse every time. I feel like… like I’m being tortured.” He shook his head, eyes still closed. “Like you’re trying to… squeeze it out of me.”

Kristina let go of his hand, a bit stunned. 

“This girl yesterday, she told me that I gave her courage,” he continued. “She told me that my speech made her feel brave enough to come out to her family. And I felt jealous of her. Not because I wanted to come out. I didn’t want to come out. I wasn’t ready. I was outed. She got a different experience, she got a chance to do things the way she wanted to, and… And my case was so different, and it was unfair, and it was traumatizing, but… instead of comforting me, you treated it like a crisis that we needed to resolve.”

A tear spilled from his eye. 

“I’m right, aren’t I? It’s you. Not the institution, not the public. You wish I wasn’t queer. Maybe you don’t mean to, but you do punish me.”

He wiped more tears from his eyes, and shook his head.

“Even if I’m not with Simon, I’m still me. And you don’t seem to like that. I need to know if you can accept that, otherwise… what are we doing this for? Just have August take over and just let me be.”

Kristina dabbed at her wet eyes with the sleeve of her robe, for lack of anything else. 

“I’m really sorry, Wilhelm… I’ve always done what I thought was best for you, and for the crown. Unfortunately it comes as a package. And I still have to deal with that. I have no choice.”

“But sometimes you care more about the crown than about me. You’ve lied to me before. You keep lying to me.”

“Because-” she stopped for a moment to control her voice. “Because I worry that you’re not ready for the truth.”

“How do you expect me to do anything or get anywhere on my own, if you keep underestimating me?” He looked pointedly at her.“Did you underestimate Erik? No, right? You never treated him like a child, not the way you do with me.”

She didn’t respond, because it was true. She always felt like Erik was, like her, more in tune with his role, with the things that were expected of him. Not just because he was raised that way, but because of what he was like. 

“But is it really that he was better prepared for this, than me, or is it that he was just more like you already? And I’m not?” Wilhelm asked, almost like he had read her mind. “I’m not like you. I’m not in the same place as Erik was at sixteen. I never expected to have to do this.” He shook his head and looked down at his lap, at the jacket. “I don’t want to disappoint you, and I don’t want to disappoint Erik. But this is not what I hoped I would have to do either.” He shrugged. “So I guess I have to find a middle point. But you don’t want me to. You want me to do things your way.”

“You must,” she said, not unkindly. “I need you to be my successor. I need you to be able to do this. The crown is all about continuity, and endurance.” 

He started to nod. “Except… have you always done everything exactly like grandad did? Or do you do things your own way too? Do you adapt to the times? You’re a woman, you have a different perspective, and you live in a different time and things change. It’s never going to be exactly the same.” He shrugged. “Why does it have to be for me?”

She was stunned. She always thought about the ways she took after her father, but rarely about what she did differently from him. 

“I understand that I have a lot to learn, and I’m unprepared,” he added. “But… I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I need your guidance, and your support. Not for you to stifle me.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You feel that I stifle you?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking. Because you’re never there. Yet you expect me to be there all the time, know what to do. You expect me to know all these things, to do things a certain way. You expect me to be just like you.” He shook his head. “I can’t be.”

He was shaking his head. “I don’t know if I can do it, not the way you do it. I have to be able to do this on my own terms too. And nobody in the world has to go through what I have to go through for being with someone. It’s not fair.”

“Because nobody else is the crown prince of Sweden,” she answered, and Wilhelm made a face.

“Exactly. Nobody else is, so… shouldn’t I be able to do this my way? What is so wrong with that?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but then thought about how to best say it.

“My fear as a mother, Wilhelm, is that people won’t be as accepting as you hope them to be.”

Wilhelm nodded again, then looked at her curiously.

“Were people accepting when you became the crown princess? And then queen? You were the first too.”

He was referring to the fact that, shortly after her birth, the Riksdag changed the act of succession to absolute primogeniture, so that the first born child from then on would be the heir apparent, regardless of whether it was a boy or girl. Sweden became the first country to do that, and many followed suit. 

The king had wanted her to be his successor, regardless of whether he’d have any male heirs afterwards. By the time it was clear that no more heirs would come, the Swedish people already knew that Kristina would one day be queen, the first queen in over three hundred years.

“Fair enough,” she replied. 

“You don’t always do the things that people want you to do,” Wilhelm pointed out. “You do the things that you know is right.”

She nodded. 

“Did you always want to be crown princess? Did you always want to be queen?”

She licked her lips. “I knew I had to.”

“But did you want to?” 

Much like Wilhelm, the pressure for her was monumental. She was the only heir, the only one in line to take on the throne. So it had felt more of an obligation always than something she genuinely wanted. It had been a daunting prospect. But she had wanted to prove that she could do it, that much she knew. She wanted to show what she was capable of, to prove to people that she could be a queen. She wanted to make history.

But she hadn’t had a choice either…

“I know I don’t want to,” Wilhelm said when she didn’t respond. “You know it too. But if I have to, I will do what is required of me. I will be the crown prince, I will be the next king. But I will never be like you.”

“Because unlike you, I know that there are more important things. And I don’t try to convince myself otherwise.”

She nodded slowly.

“And if you don’t like that, please let me go now,” Wilhelm said. “Please let me be.”

They emerged from the room a little while later, worn. Wilhelm was dragging the blanket behind him, trying not to step on it with his socked feet. 

Kristina felt a mixture of emotions that almost chased away her appetite, but Wilhelm had just said that he’d join her for breakfast, so there was that. 

She pulled her son into a hug. She hadn’t hugged him since the last time he had been in the palace, since the last time they’d had a heartfelt conversation, and he had been through another growth spurt, and he towered over her now, and so it felt like much more time had passed since she had held him in her arms.

Hurried steps coming toward them interrupted the moment, and Kristina turned to look who it was. 

“Your Majesty,” Minou said, slightly breathless as she appeared beside them. “I’ve just received a call from Jörgen, he says he’s on his way to Bjärstad. Linda Eriksson just contacted him.”

“What happened?” Wilhelm asked before Kristina could. 

“We’re not sure, it’s all a bit confusing, but Linda says that her daughter Sara has been calling her about police officers taking Simon to the station for questioning.” She glanced down at her phone. “Jörgen says he’s there already, and-”

Wilhelm dashed toward his room, dropping the blanket on the way, Joakim hurrying after him.

“Take care of it,” Kristina said, picking up the blanket and walking down the corridor after Wilhelm. 

Notes:

Honestly, when she and Ludvig are talking, I was tempted to have Kristina go “One person cannot feel all that at once, they would explode”, until I remembered that it’s a Harry Potter quote. But Kristina does indeed seem to have the emotional range of a teaspoon. Shallow and cold and… unbending?
She’s also manipulative, likes to play the victim, and much like August, prefers to have the upper hand at all times. So of course she looked at Wilhelm’s messages.
My headcanon is that Ludvig would be a more dedicated dad if he were allowed to be. But since his wife is the queen, his sons are not really his sons, they’re her heirs, and so he can’t play a bigger role in their lives because her decisions take precedent over his, or even theirs. But he’s also not great, since he’s allowed a lot of shit to happen anyway, and he also fails to see all the ways that his wife abuses their child.
The dream is supposed to mean that Kristina has drilled into Wilhelm his duty, but has rendered him alone by not allowing him to be with someone that he loves and trusts and who would be a good companion to him. Wilhelm doesn’t want to be crown prince, he doesn’t want to be king, but he’s starting to understand that is his duty, and Wilhelm perhaps thinks that it wouldn’t be so bad as long as he can have someone like Simon by his side, someone who makes him stronger, braver.
And yes, the tour guide Lisa is supposed to look like Lisa Ambjörn, but she’s much younger, about the age Erik was.
Next chapter this week.

PS: I forgot to add last night, since I idiotically did something whilst posting and the whole thing was deleted and I had to start AGAIN, that I’ve been reading everyone’s comments and being very thankful for them. I usually reply to each comment separately (especially the ones that comment on something specific from the chapter, it’s a lot of fun for me in general), but I simply haven’t had a chance lately, and it’s eating me up. I just wanted everyone to know that I love you and I appreciate you taking the time to leave a comment, and I am reading them, and I will eventually reply. Thank you!

Chapter 34: The weight of the world

Summary:

We all need someone to help us carry the weight.
Simon POV

Notes:

Happy Young Royals Eve!
If you’re not watching the Oscars to catch a glimpse of Omar, maybe you’re like me freaking out about having fever dreams about trying to watch the YR finale whilst having technical difficulties… or frantically trying to finish writing this chapter whilst also trying to finish doing your taxes…
Whatever happens during the new season, know that I have loved every one who has given my fic a chance, and left a comment or kudos, and shared it on Tumblr, or recommended it to anyone. And I hope we all love the new season and feel all the feels and come out the other side a happy mess.
And I can’t wait to see how many headcanons I got right and how many were completely bonkers.
Hope this chapter brings some closure.
Title is both from the title of the Cornelia Jakobs song.
TW: lot of sadness, depression, self-deprecation, mentions of drugs, mentions of addiction, vomit, food avoidance.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Simon’s eyes fluttered open when he felt a shift in the mattress. He turned to look at the person.

“Mi amor… tienes que comer algo…” (“My love… you have to eat something…”) Linda said softly, stroking his back.

He dropped his head back on the pillow and shook it.

“Por favor… hazlo por mí, Simon…” (“Please… do it for me, Simon…”)

He sighed, feeling a pang in his chest, and sat up slowly. Linda had brought him a tray with a bowl of chicken soup. It smelled delicious, yet he wasn’t the least bit hungry, despite not eating anything since Friday night. 

He ate a spoonful of broth, felt the warm liquid go down his throat, and the comforting taste, and his eyes watered.

Linda looked at him earnestly, silently begging him to have some more. But he put the spoon down and shook his head, feeling a sob bubbling up in his throat.

“Está bien, mi amor, está bien… lo intentaste…” (“It’s okay, my love, it’s okay… you tried…”) she said, putting the tray on the floor and turning back to him. 

You tried.

He wanted to speak, wanted to apologize for the thousandth time, but no sound came out, not even a wail of the pain that he was feeling.

Linda pulled him into her arms and wrapped him up, like she always did to soothe him, stroking his back and his head and saying soothing words and making soothing sounds, but this time he was too far gone. 

He didn’t deserve to be comforted. He deserved to feel miserable.

The fact that Linda still tried to comfort him, despite everything he had done, despite everything he had revealed to her, made him feel ten times worse. 

He knew that Linda herself felt guilty, like she hadn’t been there enough, like she could have avoided all of this. 

It didn’t make him feel better to finally reveal everything to her, on that long car ride to Stockholm. But he and Wilhelm agreed that she would only feel worse if she had to find out from someone else. There was an avalanche of information coming her way, but maybe the blow wouldn’t be so hard if it came from Simon.

He intended to leave out anything that had to do with Sara. But he texted her what was happening whilst they waited outside of Forest Ridge for Joakim to come back from picking up Linda, and Sara replied immediately; Linda had woken her up to let her know where she was going.  

- you can tell her

- i’ll deal with it when she gets back

- i’m really sorry 

- please keep me posted

The silence that followed the full explanation was eerie. Linda sat stunned, looking between him and the road outside the window. After a moment, she stopped looking at him altogether, her face turned to the window fully, although her eyes seemed unfocused.  

Simon looked at Wilhelm, not knowing what to do. Wilhelm reached for his hand and took a deep breath.

“Linda, I know this is a lot,” he started, nervous, hesitant, “and we’re really sorry about having kept all of this from you, and for throwing all this at you now, all at once. But… everything’s going to be okay. I know it.”

Linda didn’t look at them, but she nodded, eyebrows knitted in concern. She didn’t say anything. 

Wilhelm looked a little disconcerted and checked his watch. They were still an hour away. 

Simon’s stomach rumbled with hunger and knotted with nerves at the same time. 

A part of him had never really thought he’d set foot in a royal palace, let alone as a guest. 

Being there now, in the reception hall of Drottningholm palace, felt as surreal as he had thought.

Minou came to greet them. She didn’t look out of place, in her suit and high heels and sleek ponytail. Wilhelm certainly didn’t look out of place, either, he looked like he belonged, despite his black trainers and grey joggers and his white hoodie under his black coat. 

Simon stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Wilhelm and Minou had a short argument because his parents were asking them all to breakfast, but Wilhelm told her that he and Simon were going up to his room for a bit, at least to get changed, because nobody warned them they were being whisked away for a meeting before leaving Forest Ridge. Which made Simon suddenly worry if he had even packed anything dressy enough for a meeting with the queen.

Simon looked at Linda; she just nodded her head and said ‘go’, and Minou offered her coffee. Wilhelm took his hand again and led him up a grand staircase, and he suddenly didn’t know where he was anymore.

It was surreal. High ornate ceilings and huge shiny chandeliers, and everything was hundreds of years old and yet perfectly preserved and looking like brand new. Everything was overwhelming. He suddenly wished they would turn a corner and come face to face with a life-sized oil portrait of Wilhelm. But no such luck.

“And this is my room,” Wilhelm said, opening the door and leading him inside. Malin and Joakim placed their bags on a chair and walked out, closing the door behind them. 

Simon stepped further inside, looking around. A large bed, ornate furniture, wooden panels on the walls, drapes, rich carpets… Nothing really said ‘Wille’. Except for some objects, a few pictures, books, and an assortment of video games. A small framed picture of tiny Wilhelm and tiny Erik in a playground sat on the bedside table. 

He turned to Wilhelm, who looked a little sheepish. 

“Cozy,” Simon said, with a knowing smile.

Wilhelm laughed. “No, it’s not…” he said, shaking his head. He stood closer to Simon. “Well… maybe it kind of got a bit, now you’re here.”

Simon felt Wilhelm’s hand in his again, their fingers intertwining.

“Can’t believe you’re in my room,” Wilhelm whispered. Simon pressed their foreheads together.

“Me neither.”

“You’ve been hosting me every weekend in your room, it’s only fair that you get to see mine, right?”  Wilhelm’s smile disappearing. “I just wish… circumstances were different.”

Simon nodded, the knots in his stomach tightening. He took a deep breath. 

“I feel like I haven’t slept in days,” Wilhelm said. “Right now we’d be in your bed, catching up on sleep.”

“Well, we have a bed…” Simon grinned, glancing behind him. “A big one.”

Wilhelm chuckled and climbed onto the bed, pulling Simon along. Simon curled beside him, playing with the drawstring of Wilhelm’s hoodie. Wilhelm let out a sleepy sigh that sounded like ‘can’t believe you’re in my bed’.

It would have been great if they could stay there forever, like that. That nothing else would happen. Simon wanted to forget about the report, about August’s suspension, about the Royal Court, about everyone and everything outside of that room. 

He looked at Wilhelm’s face.

“What are we going to do?”

Wilhelm looked at him and sighed. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “But whatever happens now, I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?” 

Simon nuzzled his chin with his nose and sighed again. 

“What about you? What do I do to make sure nothing happens to you?” 

Wilhelm shook his head. “I’ll be okay, as long as I know you’re okay.”

Simon felt a tug in his chest, the same that had been bothering him since last weekend, after seeing what Wilhelm had written on his journal.  

“Wille, I…” he lifted himself onto his elbows, “I really love you, you know? I hope you know that.” 

Wilhelm smiled. “I know. I really love you too.”

“I hope you know that, despite everything that has happened… my life has been better since I met you. Because… I didn’t know that I could feel like this about anyone.” He felt hot tears behind his eyes, feeling the knotted mess in his stomach burning. “I didn’t know if I realistically could be loved by anyone, just by being myself. Especially by someone like you. I feel… like more myself, thanks to you.”

Wilhelm frowned in concern for a moment, but he pulled Simon back down to his chest and squeezed him and kissed his forehead. 

“I feel the same way. But… why are you saying this? Why are you getting like this?” 

Simon shook his head. “Because I… I can’t help being afraid something could happen that I don’t get to say it again, and I would hate it if you didn’t know that… I love you, like I’ll probably never love anyone else in my life.”

Wilhelm kissed him again. “I love you like that too.”

They fell asleep at some point, a knock on the door waking them. 

“Crown Prince, your father is here,” Malin said. 

They sat up in bed and Simon scrambled to his feet and rubbed his bleary eyes, realizing he that he was about to meet his boyfriend’s dad. 

Not that they hadn’t seen each other before, but they had never been properly introduced, and it was moments like this when Simon was reminded, unfairly, that the first impression anyone in Wilhelm’s family got of him was from a video where he was naked. 

They hadn’t changed their clothes, and Simon suddenly felt self-conscious of his trousers, his hair and the fact that he had a crease on his cheek from sleeping with his face on Wilhelm’s chest.

The door opened a moment later, and Prince Consort Ludvig came in and hugged his son and commented on how much taller he had gotten since he last saw him, and then Wilhelm introduced him to Simon. 

The truth is that he didn’t know what to make of Wilhelm’s father. He seemed nice enough, polite enough, and he shook his hand and smiled and asked him about fencing and music, and genuinely seemed to be trying to be welcoming. But it was hard for Simon to reconcile all that with what he felt about Wilhelm’s family, knowing that they would rather he didn’t exist in Wilhelm’s life. 

Prince Ludvig left after a few minutes, and Wilhelm showed Simon to the bathroom, so that they could wash their faces and brush their teeth and get changed and ready for the meeting. 

Much like when he had officially moved into Forest Ridge, Simon looked at Wilhelm in the mirror as they stood side by side brushing their teeth, and they smiled at each other, at the domesticity of it, and it helped calm his nerves a little.

It didn’t last.

As if he hadn’t already felt odd and out of place in the lavish conference room in the lavish palace, surrounded by people in suits who already had lowly opinions of him, he felt himself shrinking further and further into his chair as the discussion became heated, and Wilhelm argued with his mother, his voice louder and louder, and everyone else around the table sat silent and static. Minou’s assistant Elisa stopped taking notes, her hands frozen over her laptop keyboard. 

A part of Simon wanted it all to stop, for the queen to stop arguing with her son, but also for Wilhelm to stop defending him. Because Simon didn’t deserve it, he shouldn’t be getting special treatment. He never wanted it before, and now he was asking for it. 

He was a hypocrite.

They all were. 

“Why do you pretend like it’s worse when it’s him?” Wilhelm berated his mother, when she accused him of being a drug dealer and possibly an addict. Because of course that’s how they saw it, that’s how anyone would see it.

The queen’s eyes were hard. “Because it is! Because he’s-”

She stopped herself. Simon felt the blood drain from his face. 

Wilhelm seemed to grow in his chair all of a sudden. “Because he’s what?” his voice boomed.

“Because I’m what?” Simon choked out. He felt Linda’s hand on his forearm. 

The queen didn’t look at him, eyes fixed on Wilhelm. 

“Because of his background,” she finished. 

His background. That could mean a lot of things, and he suspected that she meant them all. His race, his ethnicity, his social status, his sexuality, even his family, his addict father, his immigrant mother, his neurodivergent sister… all of it.

It was one more thing added to the pile of things he had dealt with his entire life, but also to the already brimming vessel of things he had been dealing with recently, ever since he started at Hillerska, since meeting Wilhelm, since the fucking video. It was the last drop, the vessel overflowed.

Anger pulsated through his body. He stood up too fast, like he was no longer in control of is own body, his heart beating a million per hour.

“That’s it, I’m leaving. I’m not gonna put up with this anymore,” he heard himself say. 

Wilhelm and Linda reached toward him, to try to stop him. “Simon,” they said at the same time. But he scrambled to push his chair back.

“No… no… shit…” he muttered when he nearly tripped over the chair leg. “I know I’m probably breaking all the protocols, but… I’m not gonna sit here anymore and listen to you judge me.” He stared directly at the queen, nostrils flaring. “I’m sick of being judged. That’s all that’s happened to me since the fu- the video, I keep getting judged for things that aren’t even my fault and I’m done!” He shook his head. “And I know that this part is my fault, that I made a mistake, I just keep making mistakes and I don’t intend to, and I’m sorry-”

Wilhelm touched his arm. “Simon, please-” 

“-I’m really sorry that I’m a stupid kid, I’m sorry that I have an addict father, I’m sorry that I’m working-class trash, and I’m- shit…” he tried to control his voice before it would become unintelligible, his face hot, scalding tears running down his cheeks, “I’m sorry that I… fell in love with your son, that I had the audacity to want to be with him, and I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect match that the Royal Court needs for the crown prince. But I…” he sniffled, “I don’t have to put up with this.”

He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Across the table, Minou leaned forward, face tense.

“Simon, please sit down,” she whispered. He shook his head.

“No, thank you, I’m gonna go outside now,” he said, jelly legs barely carrying him out. He briskly walked to the door and pushed through.

“Simon, wait!” Wilhelm’s voice shouted. Simon was already out of the door. He didn’t even know where he was going. Where was he supposed to go, what was he supposed to do now? But he had to leave, he had to get away from that room, from them. 

There was a hand on his shoulder. Wilhelm caught up with him as the doors closed. In the anteroom, a woman stopped talking on her phone, looking awkwardly at them. Malin and Joakim and two other bodyguards, presumably the queen’s, stood on either side of the room.

Wilhelm stood in front of him, and Simon shook his head. 

“I’m so sorry that I fucked everything up, I’m sorry that everything’s been fucked up from the start,” he blurted out before Wilhelm could say anything. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“No, you didn’t,” Wilhelm replied, hands on Simon’s arms. “It’s all August’s fault. He’s the one who fucked up everything.” 

“But it doesn’t matter, does it?” Simon breathed, trying to calm down. He ran a hand through his hair. “Everything is still fucked up and there’s no way out of this. And this is the perfect opportunity for the RC to get rid of me-”

“It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Simon wiped his face angrily. “Stop trying to comfort me!” he shouted, feeling like an asshole. He shouldn’t be shouting at Wilhelm, but he was angry at everything, especially at himself. “I fucked it up, okay? They don’t want to have anything to do with me, and you can’t protect me.”

“Yes I can. And I will. I promised you that I won’t let anything happen to you. And I’m not breaking that promise.”

Simon felt his whole body trembling. Wilhelm pulled him into an embrace, and Simon buried his face in Wilhelm’s shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist desperately. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into his sweater. 

“Stop, Simon, stop apologizing,” Wilhelm muttered. “Look, I… I don’t know how we’re going to fix this, but we will. All I know is that I’m not losing you again.”

“I don’t want to lose you again either.”

“You won’t.”

Wilhelm kissed him lightly, and Simon felt himself calm down. He was still scared, and angry and sad, but Wilhelm was so confident and brave and ready for battle. 

Wilhelm glanced back at the doors. 

“You stay here and I’ll go talk to her, and I’ll come get you when I’m done, okay?” he said. “Or… would you like to go to my room and wait there?” He glanced at his bodyguards. “Malin, Joakim, could either of you…? Yeah, I know,” he muttered when they both shook their heads ‘no’. Simon knew that they were supposed to stay by Wilhelm’s side, even though they were inside the palace with all of its security. 

“It’s okay, I’ll stay here,” he whispered. 

“Okay, um… I’ll talk to her, and I’ll sort this out and we’ll get this whole fucking issue resolved once and for all,” Wilhelm said. “It’ll be okay.”

Simon nodded, though he didn’t feel as confident. “Okay.”

Taking a deep breath, Wilhelm turned and went back through the doors into the conference room. One of the queen’s bodyguards closed the doors.

Simon stood in the middle of the room, feeling awkward. He glanced at the woman, who was still quietly speaking on the phone, and she looked back at him and gave him a tight smile. 

He hated this. He hated this place. He wanted to go home.

A minute later, the doors opened again.

Linda came out, her face stern and tearful. Behind her, everyone else filtered out of the room. She asked him if he was okay, and Simon shook his head, his eyes fixed on the room beyond, before the bodyguards closed the doors again. 

“I’m really sorry, mum,” he said softly. Linda closed her eyes, and nodded.

“I know.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jan-Olof and Minou were talking in hushed voices, and Minou seemed utterly displeased. Then Jan-Olof got on the phone and wandered over to the other woman, and told her something.  

Simon ignored them, instead trying to hear the conversation beyond the closed doors. He could hear Wilhelm’s voice, he could hear the queen, and he could hear them going back and forth, at times louder, at times softer, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Minou,” Linda said, “is there anything that we can do in the meantime?” 

“Um,” Minou stammered, rather flustered. Before she could say anything, Jan-Olof got off the phone and approached them. 

“Simon, Linda,” he started. “There’s been a change of plans. We will continue to discuss next steps, but taking into account this new information, Her Majesty and the Royal Court feel it is unwise to have you participate in the meeting anymore.” 

Simon’s face fell.

“What?”

Jan-Olof nodded. “We have a car waiting-”

“What?” Simon repeated, louder. Linda put a hand on his shoulder.

“Simon-”

Jan-Olof cleared his throat. “Her Majesty asked us to arrange for a car to drive you back to Bjärstad.”

Simon started breathing harder, his heart racing. 

“You’re sending us away?” He looked at Minou for clarification. “Minou, what the fuck?”

“Simon, please-”

Minou shook her head. “I’m sorry. I…” she stammered again, “we’ll be in touch.”

His mouth went dry.

“What the actual fuck…”

“Simon, por favor.”

“Simon, it would be wise if you don’t make a scene right now,” Jan-Olof stated, arms linked casually behind his back. 

If Simon could have strangled him right now with his own tie, he would have. But Minou stepped toward him, gesturing for Jan-Olof to stop. 

“Simon, it’s… it’s okay. We’ll be in touch,” she repeated, as if trying to reassure him.

Simon really tried to maintain his composure, trying to slow his breathing. But he felt like the floor was giving way under his feet.

Wilhelm didn’t know…

“I want to talk to Wilhelm.”

“That won’t be possible,” Jan-Olof responded immediately.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“Simon, cálmate, por favor-”

“I need to talk to him.” 

Simon tried to step around Minou and toward the conference room. Immediately, Jan-Olof lifted a hand, and the queen’s bodyguards moved ever so slightly, but clearly ready to block his way to the doors. Like he was some sort of threat. 

He stopped, a sudden cold shiver running down his spine.

“Simon…” Minou called gently.

He looked at her, eyes wide. She seemed sympathetic. Beyond her, Farima and Elisa looked awkward and slightly embarrassed, and Magnus seemed rather detached. He glanced at Malin and Joakim, who remained stoic.

This was not happening… this could not be happening…

There was a lump in his throat when he tried to talk again.

“Can… can I at least say goodbye to him?” he asked in a small, trembling voice.

Minou pressed her lips tightly, and gave a small shake of her head. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry.”

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Every noise sounded muffled, like he suddenly had cotton over his ears. 

He heard his name, and felt his mother’s fingers grasp his hand, and he felt himself being tugged gently in the opposite direction. He tried to stay rooted, staring at the door, willing himself to shout for Wilhelm, willing himself to do something to attract his attention, to make him run out, to let him know what was happening. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t do any of those things.

He was powerless.

So he let Linda pull him away, put her arm around his shoulder, and let Jan-Olof lead them out, past Joakim and Malin, through the doors, down the long corridor, through doorways and doorways, until they were in the massive reception hall again, and everything suddenly looked and felt too big and too shiny. 

A staff person brought his jacket and his bag, which he had left in Wilhelm’s room, and handed them to him. 

“The car is outside, Jan will drive you back to your house,” Jan-Olof reiterated. 

Simon threw one last glance at Minou, whose expression was undecipherable. 

“Linda, Simon, I’ll… I’ll be in touch, okay?” she said again, like it meant anything, like the words made any sense right now. Her voice sounded far away. 

The doorman opened the ridiculously large, ornate door, and Linda’s shaking hand led him down the steps toward a black car. The driver, Jan, opened the car door and held a hand out to Linda. Linda pushed Simon forward first.

He felt numb and uncoordinated as he slid into the backseat, dropping his jacket and bag to the floor, and he sat there, motionless, as Linda climbed in after him. The driver shut the door.

Simon turned to the window, looking up the steps at the open door, past Minou and Jan-Olof who stood just inside. He heard his mother saying his name softly, felt her reach for his hand. His eyes were fixed beyond the door. A tear ran down his cheek but he made no motion to wipe it away.

The driver started the car, took a minute before they started moving; but as he drove around the courtyard, Simon turned his head to look out the back window at the door. He was sure he saw a figure appear at the threshold, two more figures at each side stopping him from going outside, before the door closed. 

A loud, gasping sob escaped him. Face scrunched in pain. Linda pulled him into her arms as he collapsed into her lap, crying loudly, unable to control himself.

“Ya, mi niño, ya… ya, mi amor, ya, ya…” she whispered, her voice watery.

She should have been mad at him. She should have been livid, about everything she had just learned about him, about what he had done. He almost wished she’d give him the silent treatment, something, anything. This felt worse. 

He didn’t deserve her comfort. He didn’t deserve anything. 

Linda asked the driver to stop about twenty minutes later. They rolled to a stop on the side of the road somewhere in Botkyrka, and Simon bolted out of the car and collapsed onto his knees and threw up into the ditch. He had been crying so hard that he made himself sick. He started dry heaving after a moment. 

His mother helped him up. They got back in the car and he slumped against her and cried again. The driver handed him a bottle of water. 

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop sobbing, his chest tight, his throat raw. Linda didn’t speak. She cradled him in her arms and rocked him like a baby, trying to calm him. 

After a while, he was slumped over her lap, drained, exhausted, but still sobbing and sniffling. 

Everything hurt, his head, his heart. 

They arrived home just before midday. The day was bright and sunny, mocking him. 

His head thumped. 

“What happened?” Sara asked as soon as they came in. Her face fell at the sight of him. 

He couldn’t talk. He toed off his shoes and just walked weakly to his room, dropping his jacket and his bag on the floor, and crawled into bed. He curled into a ball and wept, arms wrapped around himself. 

Simon sat up when he felt his phone in his pocket, digging into his hip.  

There were no messages from Wilhelm. He hadn’t been online since they left the palace. 

He buried his face in his pillow and cried some more, until he fell asleep.

He awoke with a start when someone touched his back gently. 

“Mi amor, ¿qué necesitas?” (“My love, what do you need?”) Linda asked. 

He rolled over onto his back but kept his eyes closed, and gently shook his throbbing head. He shielded his eyes from the sliver of light filtering between the blinds. 

Linda stood up and adjusted the blinds, then came back to his side. “I brought you water. Would you like some tea? Something to eat?”

“No, please…”

“¿Seguro? Simon, no has comido en todo el día, no puedes quedarte así, te hace mal.” (“Are you sure? Simon, you haven’t eaten anything all day, you can’t stay like that, it’s not good for you.”)

He threw his arm over his eyes and felt fresh tears wetting his sleeve.

“Mami, please…” he moaned, “stop being nice to me, I’m… I did this… I don’t deserve you… I deserve this… this is all my fault…”

Linda rubbed his arm. “Simon, Simon, mi amor, no… escucha…” (“Simon, Simon, my love, no… listen…”) she started, “tú eres un chico maravilloso-” (“you are a wonderful boy-”)

He squirmed away from her. “No, por favor-” (“No, please-”)

“Sí, sí lo eres… eres un buen chico… cometiste errores, pero mi amor, no por eso mereces esto. No mereces cómo te trataron… no mereces estar así…” (“Yes, yes you are… you are a good boy… you made mistakes, but my love, not for that do you deserve this. You don’t deserve how they treated you… you don’t deserve to be like this…”)

He lowered his arm and looked at her. She had clearly been crying too. Just then, he realized that Sara stood halfway in the room, leaning against the doorframe, her face red as well. They must have been talking, and crying. 

Simon wiped his nose and let out a trembling sigh. 

“You should be so angry at me, you should hate me for all the stupid shit I’ve done, the money, the drugs-”

“¡Oye! Ya basta, Simon. Dios, es como si no me conocieras…” (“Hey! Stop that, Simon. God, it’s like you don’t know me…”) she exclaimed, exasperated. “You’re my son. What would I possibly get from hating you or being angry at you right now? I know you, and I know you didn’t do those things because you’re a bad person, and the same thing goes for Sara. None of us is perfect, and we all make mistakes. But being angry doesn’t solve anything.”

Simon and Sara suddenly exchanged glances.

“You were angry at me that time,” he reminded Linda, “when I got tutoring classes and no money to pay for them… And you had every right to be angry…”

Linda’s eyes widened as she remembered, yet she shook her head. “Simon… I know, but… that was my mistake, I didn’t know what was going on, and… I should have asked…” she said, something painful crossing her face. “We could have talked about it.” 

Yes, they could have. Perhaps none of this would have happened if he hadn’t been so stupid and naïve. He was always mad at the system that placed him at a disadvantage in comparison with his classmates, yet he had played right into it. As if he could afford it. As if he didn’t know better.

“But I know one thing, and it’s that I don’t want to be angry about that anymore,” Linda said.

He felt something bittersweet in his chest, as she reached for his hand again, and this time he took it. 

“Still… I’m really sorry, mum,” he said. Linda nodded. 

“Entonces te perdono,” (“Then I forgive you,”) she said, tearing up again. “Y ahora seguimos adelante, juntos, como familia. ¿De acuerdo?” (“And now we move on, together, as a family. Agreed?”)

She glanced at Sara, who nodded, eyes glistening. 

Simon sat up, head thumping. He reached for the glass of water Linda had brought him, and took a sip. His throat hurt as he swallowed. Then he curled up on his side again and closed his eyes. He could feel Linda watching him.

“Tienes que comer algo, Simon,” (“You have to eat something, Simon,”) she repeated. He vehemently shook his head. She started listing things that she could prepare for him, to see if she could tempt him, her hand on his back stroking soothing circles. 

“Tengo miedo, mamá…” (“I’m scared, mum…”) he responded instead, feeling more tears springing to his eyes. “I’m scared about Wille… he’s all alone again…” 

“No, mi amor, él va a estar bien. Él es fuerte. Y él te quiere mucho. Y él sabe que tú lo quieres mucho también. Él va a estar bien.” (“No, my love, he’ll be alright. He is strong. And he loves you very much, and he knows you love him very much too. He will be alright.”)

“Igual tengo miedo…” (“I’m still scared…”)

“Yo sé, mi amor… pero todo va a salir bien.” (“I know, my love… but everything will be alright.”)

He had fallen asleep again. 

After crying for hours, his nose felt stuffy, and his throat hurt. Like he was coming down with a cold. He felt weak and tired. 

There were still no messages from Wilhelm, no missed calls. 

Simon thought about trying to call him, but the possibility of Wilhelm not picking up, or of someone else picking up for him, terrified him. 

Instead, he stared at the last text messages they had sent each other, a few days before.

- This is my new wallpaper, by the way - Wilhelm wrote. Attached was a screenshot of the aforementioned phone wallpaper, the photo from the Instagram post of their little outing to the pier at lake Svinstad. 

- i love it *heart emoji* - Simon had responded a minute later.

- *heart emoji*

He cried again.

It was darker when he woke up again, but it was still daytime. 

He had managed to cry himself to sleep, and he supposed he had slept a bit, but he felt dizzy, from crying so much, from not eating.

Dragging himself out of bed, he grabbed the glass of water and gulped half of it. He walked out of his room quietly, toward the bathroom, a hand on the wall for balance. 

There were voices in the kitchen. Linda and Sara were talking.

“… don’t know what came over me,” Sara was saying, her voice watery.

“You’re not, mi amor. You were… in love for the first time. That does things to people. Love does things to people.”

“Did you love dad?”

There was a pause. Linda sighed. 

“Enough to overlook things for too long,” she said. “I too wanted to believe that love might fix things.” She hummed. “But it goes both ways. Both parts have to work on fixing things. If one person is not willing to do the work, then it’s not worth it, is it?” 

“I know that now.”

“Then don’t be so hard on yourself.”

There was a tapping sound. 

“Simon will never fully forgive me,” Sara said, her voice choking a bit. Linda sighed again. 

“It takes time. But time heals all wounds, as they say. Ustedes se hicieron daño, y ahora deben perdonarse, para que puedan empezar de nuevo. Los hermanos tienen que estar juntos, tienen que apoyarse.” (“You hurt each other, and now you should forgive each other, so you can start again. Siblings should be together, should support each other.”)

Sara didn’t reply. The tapping noise continued. 

“The other thing they say is that forgiving someone doesn’t mean that you excuse what they did wrong, forgiving someone means that you keep what they did wrong from harming you anymore,” Linda added. “I think that’s true. I think the moment you forgive someone you begin to heal.” She paused again. “That includes forgiving yourself.”

No response. The tapping noise ended. 

“Así, sí, perfecto. Gracias, mi amor,” (“Like that, yes, perfect. Thank you, my love,”) Linda said. They must have been making food. 

Simon stood there, feeling numb. 

“Tú sabes que yo te quiero mucho, ¿verdad?” (“You know I love you very much, right?”) Linda said. 

Sara sniffled loudly.

Simon slid into the bathroom, and a minute later he came back out and went back to bed.

Maybe this would pass.

Maybe he’d eventually be able to get up, dust himself off, move on with his life. Heal somewhat.

But he’d never be happy. 

Wilhelm was never coming back to Hillerska. They were never seeing each other again. 

He realized this, with the certainty that he also felt his heart breaking. 

If he had known that the last time they held each other would be the last time, if he had known that the last time they kissed would be the last… 

He would never be happy again. It was dramatic to think that, but he was sure of it. Not truly happy.

It wasn’t just that he would not get to be with the person he loved, it was that the past few months had managed to rob him of any hope and peace of mind and sense of normalcy. He felt scarred for life. 

This would haunt him forever.

Linda and Sara had been making arepas. His mother came into his room a while later, warm, freshly-baked arepas on a plate, and offered them to him.

He thanked her but shook his head. She tried to coax him a little, but he said he wouldn’t be able to stomach it at all. 

Linda scolded him affectionally, saying that this was not a good time to go on a hunger strike, that he needed his strength. 

He didn’t respond anymore. After a bit, Linda sighed and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Restful sleep evaded him between fits of anxious nightmares and feeling the emptiness beside him on the bed. His pillow was damp and cold with tears.

He kicked the blankets off, feeling hot and feverish and distressed.

Maybe he was sick. 

He suddenly remembered something. In the dim light from the fish tank, he felt around for the bag still on the floor, and unzipped it. He felt around the inside, until his fingers brushed a familiar fabric.

The orange sweater. He always packed it in his bag, just in case. Just like Wilhelm always stole Simon’s hoodie and put it in his bag. It was like a security blanket, like Wilhelm carried his brother’s cigarette case and lighter. It sustained him through the breakup.

He pulled it out gently. It still somehow smelled like Wilhelm. 

He realized then that Wilhelm had his hoodie in Stockholm. 

That barely comforted him at all.

He didn’t want to wear the sweater, he didn’t want to erase Wilhelm’s scent with his own.

So he just lay it on the empty space beside him and curled beside it, a hand on the fabric, as if to trick his mind into thinking that he wasn’t all alone, that Wilhelm was right next to him. 

He woke up with a start in the morning, completely disoriented. It was morning but he didn’t know what day it was.

Sunday. It was only Sunday.

Rosh and Ayub sat at the foot of the bed and the desk chair respectively. They looked somberly at him.

“We knocked, but you didn’t answer,” Ayub said.

“Sara called us,” Rosh added.

“She called Felice as well.”

“You weren’t answering anyone’s texts or calls.”

“I think your phone ran out of battery, by the way.”

“She told us to come over if we could.”

“What happened?”

“Simon, what happened?”

Simon tried to speak, but no words came out. He buried his face back onto the pillow and cried. Ayub stood up and came over to kneel beside the bed, and started stroking his back. He hadn’t done that in years, not since his parents divorced. 

Rosh went to get him some water. After a bit, and a drink, he calmed down and managed to sit up and talk, and told them about the meeting, and what happened afterwards. It hurt to speak, his throat sore. He really was sick.

Rosh sat there, looking down at her hands. 

“What can we do?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know… I don’t think there’s anything that can be done.”

“Maybe… maybe Wille will manage to convince them,” Ayub said. “Maybe he’ll talk to him mum and make her put everything right. It’s the least she can do, considering she protects that fucking asshole…”

“I don’t know… I don’t think she’ll care.”

“But… maybe this time…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say anymore.

“I don’t…” Simon mumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve, shuddering breaths escaping him. “I don’t think he’s coming back…” he said, and hearing himself say it out loud this time made it even more real. He convulsed with sobs again. 

Tears glistened in Rosh’s eyes as she put an arm around Simon’s shoulders, and Ayub sat on his other side and did the same. His friends wrapped him in a protective, comforting hug, but he was beyond comfort. Everything hurt. 

“We can’t leave him alone,” Rosh sniffled. 

“We won’t,” Ayub agreed.

Simon sat there and cried until he felt numb. 

They stayed with him even as he fell back asleep, all cried out. They talked in hushed voices. Ayub put his phone to charge. 

Linda came and asked them to stay for lunch, in the hopes that maybe Simon would eat if they were there, but it didn’t work.

He drifted in and out of slumber, their whispers drifting in through the open door.

They came back after a while, and Ayub brought him paracetamol for the headache, which by now had become a dull ache. He took it and went back to sleep. It helped with his sore throat too, and his sore body.

They told him that they had been texting Wilhelm to see if he’d answer, and so had Felice and Maddie. Nobody had gotten a response yet. 

Rosh and Ayub left at some point; when he woke up again, he was alone. 

Later, when it was getting dark, Linda came by with the soup, and tried to get him to eat, to no avail. He felt sick, like he had never felt before. 

He might rot away in bed forever. He barely managed to get out of bed at all, except to use the bathroom.

It was Monday, he thought, but he had no idea what time it was, when Linda came into his room quickly.

“Minou called me.”

He lifted himself up, his heart accelerating. 

“She said that the Royal Court are taking care of it. That they’ll make sure that nothing about the drugs comes out.”

He rubbed his eyes.

“What? Why? How?”

“She said that they’ll talk to the police and the school about flagging any reports regarding you or drugs. And that the lawyers will contact me with more information.”

He shook his head slowly.

“Why? Why now?”

Linda shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe Wille convinced them?”

If that was the case, why didn’t Wilhelm tell him himself? Why was he still offline? Why wasn’t he answering their friends’ messages?

If these were supposed to be good news…

“What if he…” he started, his voice hoarse, “what if they agreed to protect me on the condition that he doesn’t go back to Hillerska? What if he agreed?”

Linda sat beside him. “I don’t know. I’ll ask Minou.”

Simon shook his head again. He doubted Minou was allowed to tell them anything. 

Rosh and Ayub came back every day, to keep him company. But he had never wanted to be left alone so badly, and yet if he was left alone, he’d just feel worse.

Since Maddie had deleted the group chat, she and Felice texted him directly, but after a while of not getting any responses, they’d text Rosh and Ayub desperately, asking how he was. 

Nobody had been able to contact Wilhelm. His phone was on, but he had not been online since Saturday. Simon would check his phone once in a while, in case that he texted or called, but no such luck.

Then he received an alert that Maddie had created another group.

- i didn’t add wille, just in case the rc is monitoring his phone - she texted.

- so what are we gonna do?

- simon, how are you? please let us know, you’re not answering anyone’s texts - Felice wrote. 

- he’s okay, all in all… we were just with him - Ayub responded.

- yeah, hes a literal puddle of tears, but sure he’s okay - Rosh wrote.

- see this is what happens when you split up soulmates ugh people don’t learn - Madison added.

- not helpful, maddie - Felice said. - i feel so disconnected. fredrika and stella keep asking us why we look so freaked out all the time. should we come back sooner? simon, can we come see you? 

- again, what are we going to do? - Madison asked.

- i dont think theres much to do for now. we just wait to learn more - Rosh said. 

- no rescue mission?

- not for now at least

- simon let us know if you need anything please - Felice texted.

- it’s okay - Sara wrote after a moment, - i’ll keep everyone posted

He didn’t see much of Sara, though, since he barely left his room.

He didn’t know what day it was, he didn’t know anything. He was in a state. 

Linda managed to get him to eat a bit of porridge, then later a bit of pea soup. 

At least he didn’t get sicker, but Linda chided him about not showering, telling him he’d get all kinds of sick if he didn’t. He finally dragged himself into the shower around midday that day, and admittedly felt a little better after standing under the running water for a few minutes.

The feeling quickly disappeared. 

Minou called Linda to let her know that they needed to ask her and Simon all the information they needed regarding the drugs.

“They want to know your side of the story,” Linda said. 

“Do they?” Simon said, breaking his toast into pieces that he didn’t intend to eat. “What exactly for?”

“Minou said they want to have the full story. They are speaking with the other boy and his lawyer, to make sure he doesn’t file a report against you either. They’re still protecting him.”

Simon looked up at her curiously, then at Sara, who kept her eyes on her plate. ‘The other boy’ was August. Linda either didn’t want to say his name, or thought she shouldn’t say it.

“Whatever I tell them, they’ll probably make something else up,” he grumbled.

“Simon… just be honest.”

“I already told them. I was already honest.”

“Please, Simon,” Linda said.

He sighed and nodded. Later, he told her the whole story again, even though it pained him to repeat all these things to her. And when Linda sat down to relay this to Minou and Magnus over the phone, Simon sat beside her listening, clarifying and interjecting when necessary. But he didn’t want to talk to them directly. 

“What happens now?” she asked when they finished. Simon could hear Minou’s voice on the other end of the line, and occasionally Magnus’s, going on for a bit, Linda humming and nodding as she listened. 

“Thank you, Minou… okay, yes… yes, I will… oh, Simon is…” she turned to look at him. Simon rolled his eyes and curled into a ball with the blanket wrapped around his body and pretended not to be there at all. 

Linda cleared her throat. “Well, it’s been, um… difficult,” she said simply. “And… how is Wille?”

Simon perked up, feeling his heart shrink a little when Linda looked dismayed as Minou answered. 

“I see… okay… well, thank you again… yes… okay, goodbye.”

She put her phone down and rubbed her temples.

Simon’s head fell against the cushions. “She didn’t tell you how he is, did she?”

Linda shook her head. 

He closed his eyes, feeling a lump in his throat. 

They knew nothing for a while. 

Then some news came. But not what they expected.

Felice shared on the group chat a social media post about the anniversary of the king’s death. There was a photo of the royal family during the religious service.

Wilhelm was in it, wearing a suit, beside the queen.

“At least we know he’s alive,” Rosh said, looking through the photos. She and Ayub sat across from Simon at the dinner table, whilst Simon spent about half an hour eating a bowl of spaghetti, chewing slowly like it was torture.

Simon wasn’t comforted at all by the thought. Wilhelm didn’t look alive. Of course he looked sad, he was at an event commemorating his grandfather’s passing. But he looked pale and somber, like a ghost. 

There was nothing else until Saturday evening, which he remembered was an Easter Eve event at a museum. 

There was a press release on the royal family’s official Instagram account, and pictures with people from the museum and children dressed like witches. In the group picture, the royal family stood in the center. 

Wilhelm was the only one who didn’t smile. 

There was an edited video clip of the family walking through the exhibits, and children playing in the museum, and Wilhelm delivering a speech. He looked every bit as sick and nervous as he always did when he had to speak in front of a crowd.

Simon watched, transfixed. 

Linda had to go to work on Saturday evening, and nobody wanted Simon to be left alone. When Rosh and Ayub offered to come over on Sunday, Simon refused.

“No, come on, it’s Easter, just… chill. I don’t need you to babysit me,” he told them. “Sara will be here, anyway.”

“Well, call us if you guys need anything,” Ayub said.

“We’ll come by anyway, at some point… you can’t just get rid of us,” Rosh added.

He rolled his eyes and hung up on them. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen on Tuesday, when he had to go back to Hillerska, and find out if Wilhelm was coming back at all or not. So he couldn’t sleep that night at all.

He woke up in the morning when he caught a whiff of whatever Sara was cooking. It smelled a little burned, but good. But he was too tired to get up, so he fell back asleep.

He was awake again some time later. There were voices outside his window. Someone was at the door. 

Turning over, he stared at the ceiling. It was Sunday again. 

Two more days until he’d find out…

Sara suddenly burst through his door, making Simon jump.

“Simon, Simon!” Sara hissed, a panicked look on her face. “There are police officers outside, they want to talk to you, and I- I’m trying to call mum but she’s not picking up, and- I didn’t know what to do- they say they just want to talk to you, but I- they wouldn’t tell me anything else because I’m not mum and I’m not your legal guardian either-”

“Sara, wait, what…” Simon felt his mouth go dry. Sara was dialing her phone again and cursing under her breath.

“-mum, please! Answer your phone! The police are here for Simon! What do I do? Call me back now!” she half-shouted into the phone. “Shit! What do I do?” 

Simon breathed harder and faster. He peeked out of the window; sure enough, there were two police officers in uniform outside the front door, looking around patiently, a man and a woman. “Did they- did they say what it was about?”

“They wouldn’t tell me. I told them that you shouldn’t talk to them without mum or a lawyer present, but they keep saying that they just want to ask you some questions, and that it’s not necessary for anyone to be with you, and I don’t know if that’s, like, allowed or what-”

“Shit,” he whispered. He was pretty sure that it was allowed, even if he was a minor. But he didn’t have to answer any questions if he didn’t want to, if he wanted to have someone present. 

Sara kept calling Linda, but the call would go to voicemail. “Simon, what do we do?”

He was at a loss. He felt anxious and nauseated. 

August had fucked him over, after all. 

But then maybe the Royal Court had fucked him over as well. Minou said that the police wouldn’t come after him, that they would flag any reports about him. Had she lied?

“Ugh! Fuck!” Sara said when the call went to voicemail again, running a hand through her hair. “Shit…” she muttered, on the verge of tears.

“Calm down,” he said, even though he was breathing faster now, like he might hyperventilate. “Just… keep calling mum, I’m gonna…” 

“Simon, you are not going. Not until mum gets back,” Sara said firmly, arms crossed. “They’ll just have to wait.”

Simon shook his head. “They’re not just going to wait.”

“What if it’s not true? What if they’re not just asking questions? What if it’s worse?”

What if… what if… what if…

Simon was so fucking tired of worrying about what might happen. 

A part of him just wanted to get it over with, find out what the consequences were, and whether his life was fucked. Maybe then he’d stop kicking himself. Maybe it would be nothing, maybe it would be everything. But at least he’d know.

Without a word, he got up and got dressed. Trousers, a nice shirt that the Royal Court had given him, and he fixed his hair.

“Simon, no, please, please don’t go with them,” Sara begged, trying to stop him, to block his path. But Simon just kept going. 

He opened the front door and greeted the police officers.

“Hello, are you Simon Eriksson?” the female officer asked with a friendly smile.

“Yes, um… that’s me.”

“Hi Simon, so sorry to bother you this morning. I’m officer Clara and this is officer Vincent, with the Linköping Police department. We just have some routine questions that we need to ask you in response to a police report we received, in which you are mentioned. We would need you to come down to the station with us.”

“What is the police report about?”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have that information. We were just requested to bring you to the station for a few questions.” 

“Why not here?”

“Well, unfortunately, since you are mentioned prominently in the report, we do need you to answer some questions and possibly provide a statement, and we can only do that at the police station.”

“I…” he hesitated. “I would rather have my mother, or my lawyer with me.”

The police officer nodded. “Yes, we tried contacting your parents, Linda and Micke Eriksson. But you are more than welcome to call them and your lawyer, and have them meet you there, but we really need to get going.”

He nodded. “Okay,” he said in a trembling. 

Sara tried to convince them to let her come, but they wouldn’t let her, since she was not his mother or legal guarding. Simon went back to his room to get his phone charger and ID. Before he walked away, he spotted Wilhelm’s sweater on the bed, and without a second thought, he pulled it on.

He went back to the front door and put on his shoes and jacket and followed the police officers. 

“I’ll be there as soon as possible!” Sara called after him, putting on her shoes. Simon looked over his shoulder at her.

“I’ll keep you posted,” he said, before the male officer opened the door to the police car and Simon slid into the backseat. 

He felt nauseated the entire time, as they drove through the quiet, empty streets. He felt almost like he was having an out of body experience.

Whatever was bound to happen now, would happen.

And whatever that was, he would deserve it.

And at least he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore.

The drive took less than twenty minutes. When they got to the police station, they had him first sit in a little waiting room for several minutes, and then they led him into a room with a table and four chairs.

He sat in that room, and waited, his leg bobbing up and down.

Sara had been texting him non-stop, that she had finally talked to Linda. Then Linda started texting him, that she had been in the middle of a procedure and had missed all the calls, that she had spoken with Minou and Jörgen, that Simon should wait for him before telling the police anything. So Sara and Linda and Jörgen were on their way, yet they weren’t getting there.

The same young officer from earlier offered him some water and he stupidly said no. 

About half an hour passed when a woman with a long ponytail came in and introduced herself as the report investigator, and said her name was Malena Eberhard. She explained that they had received a report claiming that he had stolen prescription drugs and sold them at his school, but that was all that they had for the moment, and that they just wanted to get some information about it from him. 

“I’m waiting for my lawyer or my mum,” he said, his mouth dry. 

“That’s fine… would you like some water or a tea or something in the meantime?”

He said no again. 

About another half hour later, Malena came back in, Jörgen behind her, and Simon never thought he’d be so happy to see anyone from the Royal Court. Jörgen asked for a few minutes with Simon, and Malena left. 

“Your mother and your sister are outside, I told Linda it was best if she stayed outside, and that I would take care of it,” Jörgen said, sitting in the chair beside him. “Simon, it’s going to be okay. They’re just gathering information for the report. They can’t tell us who made it, in the case that it was not filed anonymously, because that information is confidential until they know more.”

Simon was trembling now. “Minou said that the RC would make sure that any report would be flagged. Why didn’t it get flagged?”

“I spoke with Minou and Magnus, from what we gathered we suspect that the report had already come in before they sent instructions, and the message didn’t reach everyone, since it’s a holiday week, half of the staff is on break. That’s also why they took this long to investigate it.”

“But… why was there a report at all? Minou said they’d talk to August…”

Jörgen shrugged. “They haven’t spoken to him yet. He must have gotten ahead of himself.”

Simon let out a shaky breath and looked down at the table.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Jörgen repeated. “We’ll just let them ask some questions, and then we’ll take care of it with the rest of the legal team. Just let me do the talking, they really have no reason to suspect that you had anything to do with this, other than the word of the person who made the report.”

Simon nodded, trembling, not because it was cold.

Jörgen lifted his black leather briefcase onto the table, with an air of calmness that made Simon feel slightly more at ease. 

“How’s my mum?” he asked.

“Worried, of course, but I assured her that it would be okay.”

Malena came back in and sat down on the other side of the table. She had a friendly smile, and she peered at him curiously, and it occurred to him after a moment that maybe she knew who he was. 

She gestured to a folder in front of her, and explained that the person who placed the report, whose identity they were unable to disclose, claimed that Simon had been dealing prescription drugs at school, drugs that he had obtained from his father. This person stated that they could provide evidence. 

Jörgen and Malena started talking back and forth, calmly and politely, but using terms that Simon could not understand. Or maybe he couldn’t hear properly, there was a rush of blood to his head that made his ears stop working properly. They weren’t asking him any questions directly, so he heard their voices very far away, like background noise.

“Simon? Simon?”

Jörgen’s voice finally cut through the noise. Simon blinked.

“Y… yeah, sorry. What?”

“Would you like a glass of water?” Malena asked again. 

He nodded this time. His throat felt unbearably dry now, and he felt sick. Malena announced that she’d be right back.

“You’re doing good, Simon,” Jörgen reassured him. He read a message on his phone. “Minou will be here soon.”

Simon nodded again. He couldn’t speak. He was sure he’d be sick if he tried to talk. 

A part of him wondered if it had been August who had filed the report, or if Alexander had ultimately become involved, and what evidence was there to provide, if he had been stupid enough to think that they had gotten ahead of August at all, if August was indeed always six moves ahead of them…

But another part of him didn’t care at all. It didn’t matter anymore.

He was so tired. Tired of running, of thinking, of worrying. Tired of wondering what the punishment might be, and how to avoid it.

Simon had never wanted special treatment, never wanted to get away with things just because he was the crown prince’s boyfriend. But maybe he wasn’t even that anymore, so maybe he shouldn’t be getting any sort of special treatment. Maybe he should just confess to everything, own up to it, and take whatever was coming his way. 

But he thought of Linda, and Sara. 

He hadn’t realized he was crying until he felt a tear hit the back of his hand. He wiped it away. Jörgen produced a packet of tissues and offered it to him. Simon mumbled ‘thanks’ and pulled a tissue out and wiped his eyes and nose. 

“It’s going to be okay, Simon,” Jörgen repeated.

A few minutes later the door opened, but it was just the same female officer from earlier. She set two glasses of water in front of them, and informed them that Malena would be a bit longer, that she was called to handle another matter momentarily, then she left.

‘Momentarily’ turned out to be almost forty five minutes. Jörgen spent most of that time on the phone, presumably with Minou, talking in quiet voices. 

“There’s another legal counsel here, Astrid, she just arrived,” Jörgen explained, sitting back down. “The Royal Court sent her to assist, just in case. Would you like to use the bathroom, or go talk to your mother?”

Simon barely shook his head. If he saw Linda for a second, he’d crumble, and become a mess and lose all control of his verbal functions. 

After an inordinate amount of time, Malena came back in. She didn’t sit.

“I’m very sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said. “You’re free to go, Simon. We’re sorry for the inconvenience.”

Simon froze. 

“What?” 

“We won’t be questioning you anymore. You can go.”

He shook his head, looking between her and Jörgen.

“Wait, what happened? Why am I being let go?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose any details about the report.”

Jörgen interjected. “Given the circumstances under which you brought Simon in for questioning, we can agree that he deserves to know at least that.”

Malena sighed and cleared her throat. “We just received a full statement from a person who claims to be responsible for the drug dealing.”

Simon felt a cold shiver run down his back. 

“W- what? Who?” His mind immediately went to Sara. 

“Sorry, but that information is confidential,” Malena said.

“Malena, please,” Jörgen said. 

She hesitated. 

“The person who assumed full responsibility just now is Micke Eriksson. He’s your father, correct? As we informed you earlier, we tried contacting him, since he appears in your public records. That’s all I can tell you for now.”

Simon was trembling again. 

“What? He- he what?”

Jörgen asked Malena follow up questions, but Simon just stared, unable to hear anything, his mind racing. 

“Simon?” 

Simon snapped out of it. 

“Come on, we’ll sort this out,” Jörgen said, gesturing him to get up and come with him. He thanked Malena again, and she escorted them out. Simon’s legs felt numb. 

There was a woman waiting outside for them, and Jörgen introduced her as Astrid, the other lawyer sent by the Royal Court. She quickly explained that when she arrived, the investigator spoke to her and assumed she was here as legal representation for Micke, and that he had just been taken to a room to present a statement. Astrid consulted with the Royal Court briefly and they agreed that she should offer to counsel him, but despite anything she said to him, he went ahead and told the investigator that he had been responsible for dealing his own prescription drugs directly to students. He didn’t provide names, but the time frame was consistent with the one in the report. 

The investigator took his statement, and now Micke was waiting to be processed and taken into custody until an audience date was set.

“No, no, no…” Simon shook his head. “Did you tell him to do that? Why did you-”

“We did not, Simon. I did not,” Astrid responded. “He just came in because they called him about you, but when they told him what the report was about, he just… I tried to talk him out of it, I tried to talk to him in private, but he,” she sighed, “he said he needed to be held accountable, for what he had done to his children. He said he wanted to make up for everything.”

There was a massive lump in Simon’s throat. “I don’t believe you.”

“Simon, I promise you, I was asked to be his counsel, not to use him as a scapegoat. That was to be avoided at all costs, for your sake and your family’s. But… He made that decision on his own. I don’t think he even knows who I am and how I got here, he didn’t even let me finish explaining. He just said he didn’t want his children to be involved in any way. That he wanted you to be able to distance yourself from him once and for all.”

“I don’t… that doesn’t sound like him at all,” Simon whispered.

“I’m very sorry for this turn of events,” Astrid said. “The Royal Court has assigned me to continue representing him, if that’s okay with him. We will make sure that he can await the date of the audience at home, and…”

Simon was barely listening anymore. That didn’t sound like Micke at all, no matter what this woman said. Maybe Micke was high, or drunk or a combination of both, and his statement shouldn’t be accepted, because he was not in his right mind right now. 

“I need to talk to him.”

Both Astrid and Jörgen shook their heads. “That’s not a good idea at this time. We would first need to-”

I need to talk to him,” Simon repeated more forcefully. “If he wants me to distance myself from him, then I need to talk to him one last time.”

The two lawyers looked at each other. 

“Please,” Simon begged. “You can do anything, right? Prove it. I want to see my father right now.”

Astrid took a deep breath. “Let me see what I can do.”

A few minutes later, Malena herself was leading Simon and Jörgen down a corridor to another room. 

“We’ll give you a few minutes,” Malena said, letting them inside. 

Jörgen remained by the door, but Simon could barely propel himself forward.

Micke was inside, sitting calmly at the table. His face lit up when he saw Simon.

“Hello, son,” he said.

The floodgates opened. Simon started sobbing, and crumpled to his knees, crouched over in pain, and Micke scraped the chair back and rushed to his side.

“Oh, Simon, hey, hey…” he said quietly, but he didn’t touch him, like he was afraid, his hand hovering over his shoulder. “No, no, it’s okay…”

“Dad…” Simon barely managed to choke out, “what did you do… why did you do that…?”

Micke shook his head repeatedly. He looked fine, clear-headed, not drunk or high or hungover at all. 

“I was so worried when I was told you were here. I knew there must have been a mistake, because… well, you’re a good boy.”

Simon sobbed quietly, shaking his head. 

“I couldn’t let you get involved,” Micke continued. “Not about this. Not now, not ever. Because… I know that it’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not, dad,” Simon said. “I did this, I did all of this.”

Micke shook his head again. “No… no, you didn’t. I did. A long time ago. I did this. I… If it hadn’t been for me… it’s always been my fault. I did things, to you and Sara, and to your mum, and… I never took responsibility for any of it. I never apologized. I never tried to actually make it right. But… now I do.”

Simon felt like he’d never stop crying. He’d never be able to live with the guilt from this. He must have said something out loud, because Micke finally put a hand on his shoulder.

“No, Simon, it’s me… that guilt is mine. I… I should have been better…” he wiped a tear from his own eyes. “I’m sorry it took me this long to make things right. I hope this will help make things right for you, and for Sara, and your mother.”

“No, please… dad…” Simon just kept thinking how he could undo this, how he could go back in time and stop himself from fucking up so hard, how he could change any of this, but it was pointless. 

But Micke remained calm. Like he had never been before, like he was more certain of this than anything. 

He gave a bittersweet smile. “Listen, you won’t have me around to screw things up anymore, so make sure you don’t screw them up yourself, okay? You’re so much better than me. And… you deserve to have a good life.”

He squeezed Simon’s shoulder. “And I’ll be alright, as long as you are.”

Simon choked back another sob and finally launched himself into his father’s arms. He hadn’t hugged his father in years, had always rejected or feared physical contact with him since even before the divorce. 

Micke hugged him back tightly. “Take care of them, and yourself, okay?”

Simon didn’t pull back when Malena came back into the room. He didn’t let go until Jörgen was touching his shoulder, telling him they had to leave. He didn’t know what to say anymore, so he didn’t say anything. 

“I’ll see you again some time,” Micke said, smiling at him.

Jörgen and Malena led him out to the waiting room where he had first arrived. Linda and Sara were there, talking to Astrid, but they both jumped to his feet and rushed toward him when he appeared at the doorway, and wrapped him up in their arms, sniffling and blubbering.

“Dad, he-” Simon started.

“We know,” Sara cut him off. “They just told us.”

He hugged her again, clinging tightly to her. His resentment toward her melted away. He didn’t want to be angry at her anymore. 

Astrid and Jörgen explained that they would ensure that Micke would await the audience at home, and perhaps even serve a mild sentence from home, plus social work and rehab. 

“What about Simon, then?” Sara asked. “What about… August?”

“That’s still to be resolved,” Jörgen said, and glanced behind them. “In the meantime, you should go home and get some rest. I know this has been a very tense morning, but hopefully…”

“Hopefully, we can make up for it,” Minou said, appearing on the doorway behind them. She sounded out of breath. “I’m so sorry that we couldn’t be here sooner, but I assure you everything’s taken care of, and everything will be taken care of.”

Simon felt a cold shiver run down his spine when he saw her, but said nothing.

“Simon, I’m so sorry that this happened. I promise you we tried to keep it from happening, but some things are just out of our control.”

He shook his head, not knowing what to say. He was afraid of saying anything. 

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Minou said.

“That’s okay, I drove here,” Linda said.

“Actually, it would be best if you come with me. We have a car waiting, we can get you out of here discreetly.” 

Simon groaned. He hoped that didn’t mean that people saw him and recognized him when he was put in a police car or getting out of it at the station. He hoped that photographers weren’t coming back to haunt him. 

Minou called someone to come get Linda’s car and drive it back to their house, as they followed an officer down a hallway and then down to the underground parking. There was a black SUV waiting; a guard got out of the passenger seat and opened the sliding door. 

Wilhelm was waiting inside the car. 

“Hi,” he said, his eyes filling with tears, a small smile on his lips. 

Simon gasped, and scrambled on quickly and launched himself into his arms. He heard Wilhelm let out a gurgled laugh, clutching at him with all his strength.

It was real, he was real, he was here.  

This was the second time in less than two months that Simon felt himself falling apart and being put back together.

“You’re here,” he whispered. 

“I’m here,” Wilhelm whispered.

“You’re really here…”

“Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. Minou wouldn’t let me.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep him from texting or calling you before we got here?” Minou interjected. 

Everyone piled in, and the door slammed shut, and the car started moving, and Simon had not let go of Wilhelm yet. He felt Wilhelm’s lips on his temple and his eyebrow, and Simon’s chest shook with sobs. He clung to Wilhelm’s arms, his back, his neck with the strength he had left, crying into his shoulder, hot tears staining the purple hoodie. Wilhelm’s hands were on his back, rubbing comforting circles, whispering love into his hair, as Simon felt comforted as every last ounce of energy escaping him. 

He could barely get out of the car when they got home. His legs were about to give out from underneath him, but Wilhelm was there supporting him. He led him slowly through the front door and all the way to his room, their feet dragging. 

Simon should have been happier to see Wilhelm again, but he felt worn and sad and defeated. He crawled into bed, collapsing. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that Wilhelm had not followed him. He lifted his head and saw Wilhelm hesitating by the door. 

“Please,” Simon choked out, and held out a hand, beckoning him over. Wilhelm rushed forward like he would crumble if he waited another second, and Simon clung to him like a koala, burying his face into his chest as Wilhelm wrapped him up in his arms. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…” Simon mumbled into his skin, unaware of the tears that had started streaming down his face. 

“I love you too,” Wilhelm said, kissing his forehead, rubbing his back and mumbling explanations, that he had been too late, that his phone was taken from him, that he only wanted for Simon to be safe, and that he didn’t know what else to do. And Simon didn’t need to hear it, he was too exhausted, it didn’t matter anymore. 

“You okay?” Wilhelm asked in his ear. 

“I am, now that you’re here,” Simon replied, his voice trembling, even as he started falling asleep. Wilhelm hummed.

“Me too,” he sighed. 

A few hours must have passed, because the light was different. There was a shift in the mattress, and a shadow passed in front of the light filtering through his closed eyelids. 

When he opened his eyes and checked the space beside him, Wilhelm was gone.

His eyes hurt, his head hurt, and as he inhaled sharply, he felt a little sick. He rolled over slowly, hoping that the nausea would go away, and propped himself up onto his elbows. 

When he looked around, he saw the silhouette of someone sitting at the foot of the bed.

The queen was looking at him. 

He froze. His stomach lurched and he was sure he’d be sick. 

Why was she here?

Where was Wilhelm? 

What happened?

Why did this keep happening…?

She looked worn, somber. But she didn’t look unkind.

“Wilhelm is just outside, he’s… trying to eat something. Hopefully he’ll manage to keep something down now.”

Simon did not reply. He didn’t relax either.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up. I can’t stay very long.”

He was confused, so very confused. She took a deep breath. 

“These has been a very difficult few days, I’m sure. For all of us.”

He couldn’t help but glare at her.

“I wanted to let you know personally that the Royal Court will continue to provide legal advising to your father. In the meantime, we will make sure that he’s well and safe, and that all his needs are met. And if you or your family wish to visit him or communicate with him in any way, we can arrange that. Also, we will try to keep this as confidential as possible.”

He continued to glare at her. Did she expect him to thank her? 

She sighed again. “Simon, if we had known that he was going to do that, we would have contacted him sooner and made sure he didn’t. Our goal was never to make anyone a scapegoat. We would have found an alternative, or at least tried. I can’t promise that we will fix this, but we will certainly try.”

Fix this. The Royal Court seemed to think that it was just a matter of waving their magic wand, casting their spell. But some things were beyond fixing.

She met his eyes. “He must really love you. Even if he has not been a terribly good father.”

His throat tightened. He hated that he felt himself on the verge of crying again. He tried to stop, but a tear trickled out of his eye.

She cleared her throat. “Being a parent is… hard. You’re not only responsible for yourself, but for others. And nobody can tell you how to do it, everyone is different. We have to trust ourselves to get it right, and many times we don’t. We’re going to make mistakes, it’s impossible to not make mistakes, because we don’t know everything, because we’re human, because we try to do what is best for our children, but sometimes we just don’t know what that is.” She licked her lips. “And sometimes we have to make difficult decisions for them. And it’s hard to know when our children are ready to make their own decisions, it’s hard to know when to let go. We wish we could protect our children from everything, forever, but it doesn’t work that way, does it?”

Simon stared at her, more tears falling. 

“But we try. And if we can manage to see our children happy and safe… that is the ultimate reward.”

Her own eyes glistened. 

“I’m sorry for everything that happened,” she started. “I know you’re a good person. And I know you’re good for him. I didn’t understand how you actually make him a better person. Perhaps I didn’t want to admit it to myself.” She sighed. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Forgive her. 

Forgiving someone means that you keep what they did wrong from harming you anymore…

“So, you just…” Simon said finally, his voice hoarse, “you just expect me to be cool with… everything that had happened.”

She didn’t answer. She turned to look at the door. Wilhelm appeared on the doorway. He looked tired and had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked frightened. 

“I’m saying that… we’ve all made mistakes,” she said, looking between them. “But we can have a fresh start.”

Simon and Wilhelm looked at each other, but said nothing. 

The queen stood up and walked toward Wilhelm, and tenderly touched his face. He didn’t react. 

“You can stay,” she said to him. “We will talk soon.”

He nodded, and she glanced one last time at Simon before she walked out. 

Pretty soon there was a commotion all around the house, and outside the house, and cars, multiple cars driving away. 

And Wilhelm stood tense, expectant, at the doorway the whole time, like he was waiting to make sure that no one was taking him away. 

To think that exactly two weeks before they had celebrate a month of being together, and then had been wrenched apart again. Simon was starting to think they weren’t meant to be happy together, that there would always be something that got on the way. 

Hesitantly, Wilhelm approached the bed, and sat beside him. He reached tentatively for his hand, and Simon interlaced their fingers. 

“What happened?” he asked, touching Wilhelm’s face. He still looked pale. 

Wilhelm took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“What happened is that… I thought I was gonna die… But I told her I would do anything to protect you, even if it meant that I couldn’t be with you anymore. And she accepted. Then I guess she realized that that meant that I was… actually going to die. So we made a different deal.”

“I thought I would die too,” Simon said. “Is that… overdramatic?”

“Yes, and no. I mean… I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t control how I felt, because I couldn’t control anything that was happening. I’d like to think that I wouldn’t die simply because we’re not together, but it’s… everything. Everything that’s happened, that has been out of our control, everything that has not been our choice. That’s what kills me.”

Simon nodded. “I know. Me too.”

Wilhelm caressed Simon’s face and hair. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You too,” Simon whispered. “So… what was the new deal you made with her?”

Wilhelm sighed. “Well… we agreed that we’ll talk about my role again when I’m eighteen. I agreed that I can be the crown prince, as long as she gives me a fucking break until then, until I have to decide what to do from then on.”

“What about August?”

“Fuck August,” Wilhelm groaned. “I mean, I don’t know what’s gonna happen with him now, but… I don’t care.” He shrugged. “I told her if she’s not willing to let me choose, or do things my way, then she should just let me go, and just make him the crown prince.” 

Simon nodded. As awful as it was to think of August getting what he wanted, despite what he had done, he also no longer cared. 

“There’s also a lot that I have been thinking about,” Wilhelm continued, “things that I can’t decide at the moment, because I’m still too young, and I have to think about what that would mean in the long run.”

“Like what?”

“Like whether I even want to be doing this at all. Like if I might want to renounce my title. And understanding what that would involve.”

Simon nodded slowly. He knew it was probably a lot more complicated than that, but he liked that it was a possibility.

“But that’s a conversation for at least another year or so,” Wilhelm said. 

Simon nodded. That sounded like a pretty good deal for now.

“What now?” he asked. 

Wilhelm pressed their foreheads together. “Well, now… I’ll take whatever I can have, whatever you are willing to give me, for as long as I can have it.”

Simon nodded again. They had been through too much now, and he was sure that they would never be the same. 

But he would be damned if he let anyone wrench them apart again. 

“So… all of it?”

Wilhelm smiled and leaned toward him. Simon leaned closed, and they kissed, and fell his chest swell with relief and hope and love. 

Notes:

Only a few more chapters left. But I guess I’ll have to wait until I’ve recovered from YRS3 before I can continue.
Or maybe not so long for the next one, which is a glimpse into the future, like the World Cup and the engagement announcement, except that it’s not media style, it’s a Simon POV.
I’m off to sleep for a couple of hours, before I wake up to watch YR. I hope I survive. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in our favor.

Chapter 35: Paternal instincts

Summary:

An emergency in the middle of the night.
Future Simon POV

Notes:

DO NOT READ THIS PART OF THE AUTHOR NOTES IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SEASON 3: I seem to have grossly mischaracterized Kristina. I mean, I knew I was, but I’m genuinely way too kind to her. Anyway, that is all I will say about that here (I shall share my thoughts on Tumblr, if anyone cares). In my fic, I don’t hate her with all my soul and I think she can still make up for all her wrongs.
Also, as much as I would really like to see Wilhelm abdicate now, in this fic he made a compromise, and so did Simon, but they weren’t the only ones.
OKAY, END OF THE SPOILERY NOTES. THANK YOU.
Keep in mind that there are mild references here to things that I will expand on in another chapter.
Also I love picking names.
TW: medical situations, basically, hospitals and anxiety. 

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Simon sat awake in bed, staring at the baby monitor.

Even if he had been deeply asleep, he would have still woken up to the sound of his daughter’s coughing. 

He glanced at the clock. 9:20. Matilda had been put to bed over an hour ago, and yet she had not been able to fall asleep, writhing and tossing in bed. Her cough sounded like it was getting worse. 

The doctor had already been in earlier to examine her, but didn’t think much of it, since her tonsils looked fine; she was warm and felt tired, but there was no fever. A mild cough, he said, and prescribed a cough syrup and paracetamol. However, it didn’t seem to be doing anything at all. Simon didn’t like it. 

It was precisely why he skipped the climate summit in Malmö, where Wilhelm would be delivering an opening statement. At the behest of the Prime Minister, Kristina had managed to convince Wilhelm to take part in it. And he had agreed on the condition that he wouldn’t be asked to participate in any major events that required him to travel out of Stockholm until six months after the birth of their third child, which was imminent. 

However, no amount of begging on Kristina’s part would convince Simon to go under the current circumstances, and she dropped it; she had finally learned to choose her battles with him. It wasn’t a big deal anyway, the opening ceremony was all Wilhelm, Simon wouldn’t have done much except pose for pictures and shake a few hands. So at the last minute he opted to stay and watch over Matilda. Wilhelm had almost bailed too, but they would not hear the end of it from Kristina if they both stayed home and it turned out to be just a little cough after all. 

But Simon trusted his instinct. 

Poor Wilhelm had to say goodbye to his daughters that morning and take the train to Malmö—it was a climate event, after all, so no flying—and come back the next day. 

“Calm me if… well, if anything happens at all,” he said to Simon, grumbling and pouting just before he would go out the door.

“I will,” Simon said, hugging and kissing him. “It’ll be okay. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Pappa, I come with you!” Hanna shouted, clinging to Wilhelm’s leg.

“I wish, Hanna, but you’ll get so bored,” he said, picking her up for the umpteenth time—Hanna was pappa’s little girl, while Matilda had more affinity with papá or papi, as they called Simon—and swinging her around and kissing her cheek. “You stay with papá and take care of Tilda, okay?”

“Papá and Tilda come too!” 

“No, papá is staying to take care of Tilda, and help her feel better. Will you help him?” Wilhelm said, transferring Hanna into Simon’s arms. 

Hanna cried a little when Wilhelm left, as she often did. At least she didn’t cry for too long if Simon was there. He tickled her and whispered that they would count down the hours until pappa would get back, and prepare a surprise for him.

Abuela Linda was also in town on baby watch, and since Simon was busy keeping an eye on Matilda, it was good that she was there to spend time with little Hanna.

Wilhelm had been texting him non-stop from the moment he arrived in Malmö, up to the minute just before he had to go onstage and deliver his remarks, asking how Matilda was doing. Simon felt bad about lying, but he didn’t want to make Wilhelm even more nervous just before he had to take the podium, and said she seemed okay. Technically it wasn’t a lie, since the doctor had come around already, and Simon had just given her the medicine, hoping it would make her better.

He did not, however, tell him what his gut was telling him.

A minute went by. He held the monitor too close to his face. It was the same one that they had used when both Hanna and Matilda had been newborns, and he thought he’d test it for the new baby, making sure that it still worked, whilst also keeping an eye on Matilda.

He watched intently as she curled onto her side. She coughed again. Then she moaned. 

He threw off the blanket, startling their beloved Vallhund, Pippi, who had been lying on Wilhelm’s side of the bed, licking her paw. Simon padded across the room, pulling on his robe as he did, and walked out and down the hallway to Matilda’s room. Pippi ran after him, and Sven, his bodyguard, followed closely. 

Quietly, he went inside and turned on the nearest lamp. Matilda was curled into a ball, blankets wrapped around her. She didn’t even notice when he approached, coughing and grumbling with her face buried in the pillow. Their black cat, Shadow, lounged at her feet.

“Hey, baby, it’s me,” he said, kneeling beside her on the bed. She moaned, grumbling as he turned on the light behind her, eyes shut tightly. He touched Matilda’s face. She had a fever, no doubt about it. He reached for the thermometer on the bedside table and turned it on, pushing it gently into her ear and pressing the button. 39.8 degrees. 

“My tummy hurts…” Matilda moaned. 

Shit.

He called the doctor immediately. He said that it would be best if Matilda were seen at the hospital, as it was likely that she had an infection and required further screenings. So Simon called called Lovisa, the girls’ nanny and told her to get Matilda ready, and then he called Minou and asked her to arrange everything, and then he called Stefan, the head of the Haga palace household, to have him send a car and security personnel. Then he told Linda where they were going and promised to keep her posted. Then he called Wilhelm.

“I’ll be right there,” Wilhelm said, his voice trembling slightly with urgency.

“You know you’re in Malmö, don’t you? It’ll take you four hours to get back here if you’re lucky.”

I will be right there,” Wilhelm repeated slower and more pointedly. 

“It’s okay, Wille. She’ll be okay. You don’t have to come. I just wanted to let you know. You don’t have to come all the way back immediately.”

“I’ll see you at the hospital, okay?” 

The way that Wilhelm sounded, Simon worried that he had made his husband fret for nothing.

Soon, however, he was glad he had. By the time they arrived at Karolinska hospital, Matilda was crying and complaining more and more of pain. Security mobilized quickly to lead them inside the A&E area, Simon carrying Matilda in his arms, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. At least the A&E was mostly empty. A young medical intern dropped her clipboard at the sight of him. 

The hospital staff acted very quickly, and Matilda’s paediatrician appeared suddenly, and Minou arrived soon after to support him. After an examination and a screenings, a doctor came back with a diagnosis: appendicitis.  

“Not to worry, Your Royal Highness, this is a very standard procedure. The swelling is not yet critical, so the Princess will be in top shape very soon,” the doctor explained, pointing out that the house doctor must have missed because of the coughing, thinking that Matilda was coming down with a cough. 

She, an assisting doctor and the anaesthesiologist explained the whole procedure to Simon and Minou. Simon was familiar with it, having had appendicitis when he was a child too; Linda had sat down with him later and explained to him what the doctors had done to him. It did not, however, make him feel better now; somehow knowing that his six-year-old daughter was going through the same thing was ten times worse. 

As they prepped Matilda for surgery, and Minou took care of the hospital arrangements, Simon called Wilhelm. He was already on the train back; he tried to get a flight back to Stockholm, but he missed the last one, and there were no charter planes available. He would never make it in time. 

Simon really wished that Wilhelm would be there. 

“Where’s pappa?” a tearful Matilda asked. They were in the pre-op holding room of the children’s operating area. The nurses had put her in a yellow hospital gown with ducks on it; there were clouds and hot-air balloons painted on the walls, and soothing music was playing in the background. 

A nurse was putting a pink cap over Matilda’s curls. Even though she looked remarkably like Wilhelm, everyone always remarked on her dark curly hair being “suspiciously like her papá’s”, despite the evidence that Kristina’s hair had been on the curlier side during her childhood too.

“Pappa is on his way, he will be here very soon,” Simon answered, kneeling beside the stretcher, holding Matilda’s favorite stuffed toy, a frog prince named Kermit—which he had luckily remembered to pack at the last second—toward her.

Matilda’s large brown eyes filled with fresh tears. 

“I’m scared, papi,” she cried. She looked terribly small in the hospital stretcher. Simon took her hand.

“I know, baby, but you don’t have to be. You’ll be okay, and you won’t feel a thing,” he said, using a corner of the bedsheet to dry her eyes. “The doctors are going to give you something that will help you sleep for a little while, and they will cure you while you’re asleep. They’re doing a thing called an appendectomy, it’s to take out the thing that’s causing you pain. And once it’s finished, you will wake up and you won’t have any pain anymore.” He caressed her cheek. “And I’ll be here, the whole time, waiting for you.”

“Will pappa be here too?” she asked.

“I hope so. He’ll be so happy to see you’re okay,” he whispered, giving her a reassuring smile, and kissing her forehead. “Kermit will keep you company in the meantime, okay?”

Her bottom lip quivered. 

“You know, I had an appendectomy too,” he started, feeling his throat constricting. “I was a little older than you, but of course I was scared too. But I knew that the doctors would make me better. And I knew that my mum, abuela Linda, would be there when I woke up. And that made me feel better.”

Matilda nodded slightly, squeezing Kermit a little tighter. 

Simon stayed until the anaesthesiologist came in and explained to Matilda that he was going to put a mask over her face, and that the air that she was going to breathe in would make her sleepy. Simon held her hand the entire time, quietly singing with her “En Elefant Balanserade” to distract her and count down until the anaesthetic took effect, and then Matilda was asleep. The nurse picked up Kermit the frog prince and handed it back to him. 

He felt his heart being wrenched out of his body as she was wheeled into the operation room. 

She would be okay, he told himself. Everything would be okay.

But as his eyes filled with tears, he really wished Wilhelm would get there soon. 

The surgery took less than an hour. Whilst Matilda was moved to the recovery area, the doctor came out and informed Simon that the procedure had gone very well, and that the Princess would remain hospitalised for at least two days, to make sure that there was no more pain or reactions. 

Minou had already secured the princess’s room, the floor, the whole area, security measures, etc., and informed both the queen and the crown prince, whilst Simon messaged Linda. Wilhelm was losing his mind on the train, texting Simon every few minutes to let him know how close they were. 

Simon was escorted into the recovery area to see Matilda. As soon as she opened her eyes, she drowsily asked for her pappa again. 

“Pappa is outside talking to the doctor,” he lied, feeling a pang. “He’ll be in soon. Just take it easy, baby. I’m very proud of you, you were very brave. Get some sleep.”

She blinked slowly a few times, and then fell asleep again.

When they moved Matilda to her room, Simon finally breathed a sigh of relief. The doctor gave her an antiemetic to prevent nausea, so she was still drowsy, but at least that meant that she’d finally have a good night sleep, and it would give Wilhelm a chance to get there. With security guards posted outside the door, Simon told Minou to let him know if Wilhelm called. He stood beside the hospital bed for a bit, stroking Matilda’s hair. She looked even smaller in this bed, and even more fragile with a tube stuck to her arm. He kissed her forehead and walked over to the couch, sat down and felt his body relax a bit.

He had no idea when he dozed off, stretched on the couch with Kermit as his pillow, or how long he was asleep. But he woke up with a blanket draped over his body, and someone stroking his hair tenderly. He rubbed his bleary eyes and looked up, thinking it was Wilhelm.

Kristina held a cup of black tea with milk toward him.

“Thought you might like some.”

Simon sat up with a small groan and accepted the cup. He had a crick in his neck. He glanced at his phone to check the time; it was past five in the morning. He had a couple of missed calls from Wilhelm, and several unread messages. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” Kristina said. 

“Then why did you?” he asked with a wry smile, raising an eyebrow.

“Sleeping in that position is not good for your neck, dear, you’ll get a spasm,” she said, sitting beside him. “Also, I thought maybe you’d like to go home and sleep in a proper bed, since you have your relay here.”

She gestured toward the bed. Wilhelm, still in his suit, was asleep beside Matilda, the hospital bed just big enough for both a small child and a grown man lying on his side. Simon let out a breathy chuckle. 

Kristina mentioned that Wilhelm had arrived around midnight, but he hadn’t wanted to wake Simon up, whilst she and Ludvig had only been there for less than an hour. Ludvig had come in to see them, but had promptly gone off in search of a toy to gift to his granddaughter when she woke up.

“You didn’t have to come,” Simon said, taking a sip of his tea. Kristina shook her head.

“Of course we’d come,” she said, patting his leg stiffly. Kristina was not very effusive, especially not toward Simon, even though sometimes he’d catch small displays of affection, in very private settings, like just now, stroking his hair when he was asleep.

He and Kristina had been and would always be at odds with each other. Despite accepting him as Wilhelm’s boyfriend and later fiancé, and giving her permission for them to marry, and despite all the laws that were modified to allow them to have babies through surrogacy, and despite letting them choose the donor and the surrogate mother, and despite knowing that Simon hadn’t been the sole reason why Wilhelm had triggered a national crisis… Despite all those things, she had never been entirely accepting of him. And as the country geared up for a referendum later in the year to decide the fate of the monarchy, something that had been coming for years ever since the crown prince himself gave a name day speech that fuelled republican sentiments, Kristina’s own sentiments toward him remained difficult. 

Of course, she had to reconcile those negative feelings with the positive. She knew how happy he and Wilhelm made each other, and how good he was for the crown’s image. And it had only taken one glimpse of her first granddaughter for her to lose some of her resistance. 

“Did I ever tell you about when Erik had appendicitis?” she started. “That was a tough night. He was seven, Wilhelm was three. It was Wilhelm who alerted us, in fact. He knew that something was wrong with his brother, and when we came to check, Erik was just starting to complain about the pain and his fever was just starting to go up.”

Simon nodded. “I had appendicitis too, when I was eleven. I braved going to school even if I didn’t feel well. Because I didn’t want to worry my mum.”

Kristina chuckled. “Children do that sometimes,” she mused, “even though it’s a parent’s job to worry.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Simon sipped his tea, felt the quiet in the room. His eyes rested on Wilhelm’s face, so close to Matilda’s, both looking peaceful.

He caught Kristina following his gaze, before looking at him. 

“I’m very sorry, dear, that you had to deal with this alone,” she said.

He shrugged and yawned. “It was bound to happen eventually. It happens.”

She shook her head vehemently “No, you shouldn’t have had to do this on your own, it’s too scary. I shouldn’t have insisted that Wilhelm attend that summit. The Prime Minister would have understood, and even if she didn’t, that’s her problem, right?”

“It’s okay,” Simon assured her, “you couldn’t have known.”

She looked sad, and shook her head again. “But he knew. He knew it the moment you said you were staying. He knew he should’ve stayed too.” She let out a tired sigh. “And I should have been more lenient.” She smiled at him. “Luckily, you were there, and you followed your paternal instincts, and knew what to do, and sprang into action. And everything turned out okay.”

Paternal instincts. 

He smiled. When Matilda was born, he worried that he wouldn’t have that, that the fact that she wasn’t his biological daughter would influence their relationship, that he would never have a strong bond with her because of that. Those fears quickly dissipated the moment he held her for the first time, the nurse at the hospital handing a wailing, swaddled baby to him, and he cradled her in his arms and she stopped crying, just like that. 

It was like something Wilhelm said once, years ago, when they talked again about marriage and landed on having children; that blood is not the only thing that makes a family. He and Matilda were inseparable, and it had nothing to do with the dark curly hair, or the fact that they had similar characters and shared a love of music and a rebellious flare. It was that, when he and Wilhelm decided to be each other’s family, his desire to become a dad one day, no matter how, became more and more tangible. That Matilda and Hanna—and soon-to-be-born baby Charlie/Wilma—were his, all his, no matter what anyone might say. 

His smile got bigger, and he let out a sigh of relief, as he squeezed Kermit to his chest. 

“She was so brave,” he whispered.

Kristina smiled too. “She gets that from you.”

But Simon shook his head, eyes fixed on Wilhelm. “She gets that from both of us.”

They fell silent again, and then Kristina inhaled and stood up slowly. Simon sprung to his feet. 

“I’ll leave you with your babies,” she said, granting him a cheeky smile. “We’ll come back later when they’re awake.”

In one of those rare displays of affection, she lifted a tentative hand and pushed a curl behind his ear, then caressed his cheek tenderly, before turning to pick up her bag and coat and heading out the door. There was a flurry outside, as personal security moved with her. 

Simon left the tea on the nearest table and turned to the bed again. He walked around to the other side, standing behind Wilhelm’s back, and leaned down, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Wilhelm inhaled deeply and slowly, stretching a bit and half opening his eyes. He looked down at the tiny body next to him and furrowed his brow, then looked up at Simon and smiled a little. 

“Hi,” he breathed, reaching up and touching Simon’s face. Simon held his hand in place, against his cheek, before intertwining their fingers and leaning down again. 

“You are not allowed to leave me again, especially after Charlie or Wilma is born. Never ever again. Understood?” he whispered into Wilhelm’s ear. Wilhelm let out a chuckle, eyebrows sad, and nodded. 

“Yes, sir. Understood, sir,” Wilhelm muttered tiredly, turning his face and pouting his lips so Simon would kiss him. 

“Good,” Simon said, leaning down to peck him on the lips. 

Wilhelm let out a sigh. “I am so sorry that I cannot tele-transport yet.” 

“Yeah, you should be,” Simon said, teasingly grazing his lips with his own, before finally kissing him fully.

“I’m so sorry that I went away in the first place.”

“I know.”

Simon didn’t mention that Kristina apologized to him for it; she should apologize to Wilhelm herself. 

“How was she?” Wilhelm asked, turning to look at Matilda again.

“So brave,” Simon said, putting the stuffed frog beside her. She didn’t stir. “She asked for you, but she was okay. She had Kermit.”

Wilhelm groaned miserably.

“Wille, she’ll be okay. She’ll be happy to see you.”

“I should have been here the whole time.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Wilhelm leaned back down, caressing Matilda’s hair. He looked so tired. 

“Greta says hi, by the way,” Wilhelm said. 

“Thunberg?”

“Which other famous Greta is there that is absolutely obsessed with you? I’m convinced she doesn’t despise me with all her soul just because I’m your husband. Otherwise she wouldn’t be caught dead talking to me.”

They held hands for a bit, Simon leaning onto the railing, his other hand threading through Wilhelm’s hair. Wilhelm placed a million kisses on Matilda’s forehead, who was still sound asleep. 

“Did you put this back up after you got into bed?”

Wilhelm chuckled and shook his head. “No, I had to get in around it. I don’t know how to work these beds, but I know I needed that to be right here, otherwise I’d roll off in my sleep.”

“Here, let me help you.” Simon lowered the railing, and took Wilhelm’s hand to help him roll off carefully and onto his feet. Wilhelm stood in front of him and pulled him into a tight embrace, rubbing his back and humming with comfort. Simon chuckled into his neck and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for being such a good papá,” whispered Wilhelm. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, pappa,” Simon whispered back. 

Wilhelm put the railing back up and they both leaned on it and watched Matilda sleep. Eventually she’d wake up, and they’d comfort her, and they’d call Minou in to figure out arrangements for the next two days that she had to remain in hospital, and then they’d take her home and look after her and probably take turns sleeping with her in her bed, or just let her sleep with them in their bed, and probably Hanna would want to sleep with them too in that case, so they’d probably spend the rest of the week all together in one bed cuddling with Pippi at their feet, and Shadow lurking somewhere. That is, until baby Charlie or Wilma arrived, and then they’d get caught in an endless cycle of midnight feedings and burping and diaper changes for the third time…

And Simon wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Notes:

Yes, Simon and Wille agreed a long time ago that they would have three children and a dog and a cat. They agreed in chapter 16, to be precise.
Prayer circle for Wilmon tomorrow. Good luck and may the odds be ever in our favor.
Prayer circle for future Wilmon babies too. I wouldn’t mind that too.

Notes:

Thank you for reading. I hope to update this as frequently as possible. So many headcanons swirling in my head, such an absurd amount of research I’ve been doing for each.

Series this work belongs to: