"I am sure it is just temporary, Siv." Bodil tries to calm her friend down.
"It has been three days, he doesn't even look at me when we are in the same room." Siv's tears continue to pour.
Bodil's heart aches for Siv. Even though she felt some jealousy at times when she saw her and her brother together and how in love they were, she never wished for them to be separated, especially in this cruel way.
"Come, darling. Let's wash your face and eat breakfast in the hall." She pulls her toward the bathroom.
"I'd rather eat here. Brandt is going to be there." Siv tries to free her wrist from Bodil's hold, but her grip only tightens.
"That is exactly why you have to be there. Don't you think that if he sees you all the time, he might recover his memory?" Bodil's voice is so enthusiastic that it affects Siv.
'Maybe she's right, this might actually work. I am sure he will remember me soon.'
Siv nods and goes to wash her face. The cold water doesn't help with her puffy eyes, but it feels good against her hot cheeks.
When they reach the dining hall, Ylva and Brandt are already sitting at the table. They greet them both. The prince glances up for a brief moment before going back to eating his breakfast, not even acknowledging them. Bodil gives Siv an encouraging look and pulls her to the seat next to hers.
"Where is Bjarte, Mother?" Bodil asks.
"He is not joining us today either," Ylva sighs, "I have no idea what is wrong with that boy,"
"Any news about the investigation?" Bodil inquires. The queen shakes her head subtly while glancing at Brandt. "I want to know who is the cruel sorcerer who is causing my brother and his fiancée all these troubles." Bodil pushes, ignoring her mother's warning.
Brandt slams his hands on the table, making the dishes shake and getting everyone's attention.
"I thought I said that I didn't want to hear anything on the subject." He pushes his chair back and stomps out of the room before anyone could utter a word. His reaction makes Siv's heart sink.
'I might have been too optimistic earlier. Fuck my life. How is he going to remember anything if he doesn't even want to talk about it?'
After the breakfast scene, Siv hides in her room most of the day, until someone knocks on her door.
"Come in."
"Lady Holmen, His Majesty The King is requesting your presence immediately," the royal guard informs her, "please follow me."
Siv walks behind the guard as if she is being led to her death. She doesn't know what to expect, but she fears the worst.
'Why would the king call for me, unless it is something major? Am I finally going to be executed?'
The guard stops in front of a mahogany door, opens it for her, then closes it after she enters. Siv finds herself in a room filled with the afternoon sun. Large windows stretch from floor to ceiling on all three walls. The room is filled with green plants of all sizes and shapes, making the air feel fresh and invigorating.
"Come in, Lady Siv," King Ronald's voice comes from one of the corners.
He is hidden behind big green foliage. Siv has to take a few steps before she can see him. He is sitting at a table with a pot of steaming afternoon tea.
"Your Majesty." Siv curtsies.
"Have a seat, dear."
'Dear? Shit, this is serious. He has never even called me Siv before.'
She takes a seat while unconsciously fidgeting with her dress. The king pours her a cup of tea, then gently places it closer to her. She takes a sip and patiently waits for him to speak. She seems calm and collected from the outside, but her insides are on fire with nerves.
"How are you feeling?" the king asks. The question is not what Siv expected at all, so it takes her a moment to register it.
"I'm fine, thank you for asking, Your Majesty."
"What happened is truly unfortunate. There are no developments in the investigation, but the culprit will be caught, and they will pay for what they did." The king clenches his jaw in anger, then, his expression softens before he looks at Siv. "I am sure Brandt will regain his memories soon."
"I am just thankful it wasn't life threatening." Siv averts her eyes. She still blames herself for what happened to Brandt.
King Ronald takes a few sips of tea in silence, then, he puts the cup in the saucer and sighs audibly.
"Lady Siv, I want to say that at first, I did not want you to marry my son," he confesses, "I thought you were not fit to be his wife or the future queen." Siv's heart pounds fast against her chest.
'Something bad is coming, I just know it.'
"But after I got to know more about you and about your feelings for each other, I came to accept it and even be happy about your union." The middle aged man looks at her with Brandt's hazel eyes. "I just want to say that I support you, Lady Siv. I will be rooting for you."
'Rooting for me?'
"Your Majesty, please. Just tell me what it is, my heart is about to stop." The king gives her a side smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"My son has decided to resort to Traditional Vying in order to choose the future crown princess."
Siv just stares at him without any reaction. She doesn't quite understand what he means.
Seeing her blank look, the king continues, "it is a competition, if you may call it that, where potential candidates go through tests and challenges in order to win the place of the Prince's Bride," he explains, "it was started hundreds of years ago and both my mother and my grandmother became queens through it."
Siv sinks into her chair with a paling face. She feels a tightness in her chest and takes an urgent deep breath.
'If this is a nightmare, I need to freaking wake up right now. Just three days ago, our official engagement was going to be announced, and now I have to compete against God knows how many perfect nobles and princesses.'
King Ronald watches her struggle with her thoughts. Even though he wants to comfort her, he knows that there is nothing he could say that would make her feel better.
He tried to reason with Brandt, but he didn't want to hear anything. How could someone's feelings disappear overnight?
"My dear, I promise I will do everything I can to help you. Just promise me that you won't give up." But Siv can't hear his words over her thoughts.
"I apologize, Your Majesty, may I take my leave. I am not feeling well."
"Of course."
Siv staggers out of the sun room and starts walking to her room with a scattered brain.
'Is this really not a game? Because it sure as hell sounds like the competition from Love Game.'
*********
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