Page 26 of Royal Resistance

And that brings out a sudden surge of annoyance—not that he didn’t dress to impress me, but that he will need to shave off time spent with me to rush back to the castle to give himself time to change.

Magnus draws me forward and introduces me to the owner, Alister Bell. After a few minutes chatting, we leave with coffees in hand, topped with the famous foam, and begin to circle the square.

So this is what it’s like meeting a man for coffee.

With the king of Laandia.

Magnus can’t walk two feet without someone coming up to him. Calling to him from across the street. Or simply waving with a cheerful “Hello, Your Highness.”

And anyone who stops him, he introduces to me.

I meet a man named Coy Schmidt, who has an accent so strong that I can barely understand him; Lennie Tak, who tells us about seeing a pod of whales while he was surfing this morning; and a group of men who make Magnus promise to meet them for a beer that night. He introduces me to Kathleen McKibbon, who is practically bouncing with excitement. She flashes her engagement ring, and Magnus congratulates her as if they’re long-time friends.

Maybe they are. Maybe he’s friends with all of these people.

It was never like that for me in Avelaine.

Even with all the interruptions, Magnus somehow manages to give me his attention. As we talk, he tells me about the town, how it was the place where his grandfather made his stand to stop the Nazis who had invaded the shores. I know the story of how Leif Erickson protected Canada from the German invasion, but I’ve never heard it from someone who told it so passionately.

The way Magnus tells the story, I can almost feel the cold and rain, imagining Leif arranging his men among the cliffs outside town to wait for their moment to attack.

Along with the story, Magnus comments on every place we pass, telling me the history of the store and the people who own it.

He obviously loves his home, and because of that, I start to look around with more appreciation. It’s a quaint town, busier than I would imagine for a place of this size, but yesterday was a holiday of sorts. The coronation of their new king.

Their beloved king.

And because of the reactions of the people, I look at Magnus in a new light.

He intrigues me. Not interests, because that would mean something different. That would mean I find him attractive—

A person would have to be blind not to find Magnus attractive.

His reddish-blond hair glows in the sunlight, but his smile is even brighter. He has the height and the happiness that reminds me of the actor Brendan Fraser, but with the easygoing charm of a Keanu Reeves and the confidence of George Clooney.

It’s an intoxicating combination.

So much that I force myself to ask him questions because listening to him talk almost puts a spell over me.

“Do you miss the band?” I ask him. “I feel like I should apologize for not knowing much about it, but it’s not really my type of music. But I did see you win your medal. I was at the Olympics.”

“What did you think?” Magnus asks with a grin.

“Of you?” I had been there to see the horse jumping and the tennis, but my father had been given tickets to the track and field events the day of the shot put competition. It wasn’t my thing, but I remember how the redheaded prince had the audience cheering every time he took his turn. “Impressive.”

He nudges my shoulder. “I meant being at the Olympics, but thank you.”

“Oh.” My cheeks flush with embarrassment. If I’m not careful, I’ll start acting like Courtney when she met Duncan Laz last night. “It was… it got overwhelming at times,” I tell him, surprised at my sudden honesty.

“It’s hard to go out in public as a member of a royal family, isn’t it? That’s why I like it here.” He waves a hand. “They just let me be.”

“Avelaine never just let me be,” I admit.

“No, I always got the sense it was a different sort of country. Do you miss it?”

If anyone else had asked me this, I would have said that I did. Of course I did. That the country would always have my heart. But with Magnus, the easy, automatic answers aren’t coming like they should be. “I thought I did.”

“But maybe not?”