3. 3

3

Edi e

M athias smiles at me from across the table.

I smile back.

It was nice of Dillon to drive me, saving my carefully straightened hair from frizzing in the drizzle of rain.

The storm is almost on us, giving off a holiday vibe along with rain and high winds.

The people of Battle Harbour react to storms in two ways—they either hunker down at home, as my dad says, or they hunker down someplace else.

Which is why every table at Nonna's is full. Everyone who decided they wanted somewhat authentic Italian for dinner during a storm looks up with undisguised interest as I walk in.

I smile, I wave, I call hello to a few. When I take the seat Mathias holds out for me, the whole place goes silent.

"You seem to be popular," Mathias murmurs with a half-smile after Renaldo brings bread and water and promises we'll love the juicy, jammy red he'll bring us.

He's extremely good looking .

Mathias, that is. Renaldo is five feet tall with a compact figure and old enough to be my grandfather. I've known him since I was a little girl and Dad used to bring us here for Mom's birthday.

I can't get my mind off Mathias's good looks, especially how his blue eyes are studying me from across the table. The small table , which means Mathias is close enough to touch.

His forearm especially—that appendage rests casually on the white tablecloth.

Unfortunately, his sleeves are long despite the summer heat and buttoned at the wrist.

I'm a sucker for a nice arm. Biceps, primarily, but I like a nicely muscled forearm as well. Hands, too; tanned and strong and slightly calloused to show they're no stranger to hard work.

I blame Kalle for my arm fetish.

Mathias's hands look soft and pale, suggesting he doesn't do much outside.

It's no matter; he's still very attractive with a jaw squarer than most houses. His hair looks bronze rather than blond in the warm lighting, and his eyes are as blue as the summer sky. And the breadth of his shoulders?

Smaller than Kalle's.

Not that Kalle is the man I compare other men to, but I do spend quite a lot of time with him and can't help but notice his shoulders.

The whispered comments are still flowing and I hope people in here have more to talk about than me. "Do you ever get used to the attention?" I ask Mathias, pleating the tablecloth.

"Am I getting the attention?" Mathias demands, hand pressed to his chest. "I think it's you who have caught their eye. You look amazing, by the way. My apologies for not telling you the moment you walked in."

I drop my gaze because as cheesy as the remark is, it hits the target. "Thank you. You don't need to apologize."

"I'm glad you agreed to dinner." Mathias's voice is radio-DJ deep.

"I'm glad you invited me. I have to eat, don't I?"

I slowly exhale as we study the menu. I don't know Mathias, so that's why this is awkward. I'm here to get to know him, like a fact-finding mission. If I look at it like that rather than a date witnessed by an entire restaurant, maybe I'll be able to relax and enjoy myself.

From the next table, Mrs. Powell catches my eye, gives me a big smile and doesn't even try to hide her thumbs-up.

Thankfully, Mathias is looking elsewhere than the vicinity of Mrs. Powell. "This seems like a nice place."

"They have really good pasta." I shake out my napkin and put it on my lap. "Not surprising, since it's an Italian restaurant and they must make a lot of pasta."

"Have you ever been to Italy?" he asks politely.

"I haven't been anywhere. Well, I've been to Canada twice, but that doesn't really count because it's right next door. My sister went to France for her honeymoon, and my girlfriend Kaia wanted me to go to New York City with her, but that was when my mom was sick and my other sister lost the baby and—" I come to a screeching stop. "I'll stop talking now."

To my surprise, Mathias doesn't seem fazed by my verbal diarrhea which only ever comes out when I'm out of my comfort zone. And this is very much out of my comfort zone. "Have you ever wanted to travel?" he asks.

"Wanting and actually doing it are two very different things. I guess I've always been content here in my little slice of Laandia."

Renaldo brings the wine but I have to wait for Mathias to do the smell and taste, commenting on the blackberry, which Renaldo loves and chimes in with a few other blackberry-like wines, before I can get a mouthful of the stuff.

And I really need a big mouthful.

"I would like to show you Italy," Mathias says after we give our order. "I have a friend with a place on Lake Como—"

"Near George?" I interrupt because George Clooney will now always be synonymous with the lake in Italy.

Mathias smiles. "It is quite close."

Taking a deep breath, I ask him where else he's been, and the first part of the evening passes with Mathias telling me about his favourite places.

I don't have a favourite place because Laandia, and Battle Harbour, is my favourite place. I know that even without leaving the country. It has everyone and everything I care about.

The only disadvantage is that, as a single thirty-two-year-old, I've pretty much depleted the dating pool.

The last date I had was three months ago with Angus Deeks. We went to Catch of the Day and he spent most of the time detailing his own catch, how much his fishing boat can hold, and what fish they catch.

To give Angus credit, he wooed me with tales of the pods of whales he's seen over the years. I love whales. I just wish I knew the extent of his conversations consists of more than talk the sea and what's in it.

The date I had a few weeks before Angus, had been a newly divorced friend of my sister's husband, and he took me to Spots and Stripes pool hall on a Sunday. Every screen had an American football game playing and that was all he talked about.

It was because of him that I agreed to go out with Angus.

So even if Mathias weren't a prince, he would still be a better date than those guys.

It's not until after our main course—penne pesto with chicken and a heaping spoon of parmesan for me, and beef ragu over tagliatelle for Mathias—that he realizes he's said enough about himself. "Tell me about yourself," he urges.

"You know the basics—born and raised in Battle Harbour," I say, swallowing the first bite of heaven followed by a mouthful of wine. "My father was the groundskeeper at the castle, he and my mother are still happily married, and I have three sisters."

"That's a lot of females in one place. I do better with just my one sister."

"Renee? I have to admit, I Googled you, so I know most of your basics. Father Dante, mother Emelia, you, younger brother Jonas, and Renee. You have a beautiful home in Peace River and a condo in Toronto, where Jonas and Renee spend most of their time."

Am I supposed to know all that? Should I have admitted it? Do I seem like some sort of stalker now?

When we met for coffee, we talked mostly about the wedding. Of course I Googled him; my father wanted to do a background check but my mother told him he was over-reacting because Mathias was a member of the royal family and everything about them could be found on the tabloids or internet sites.

Mom would be so happy to see a picture of me there having dinner with a prince.

Thankfully, Mathias smiles as I give him the rundown of his own family. "I would hope for nothing less, but you've put the ball back in your court because I know almost nothing about you."

"I know the basics but not the good stuff. Let's play Three Questions: we ask anything and the other has to answer."

Mathias does not look amused at my suggestion. "Is this something you do on all your dates?"

"Sometimes, but it's usually what I do with Kalle when he's had a bad day."

Kalle's name chimes between us, like a gong rung for dinner.

"I would think most would want to avoid my cousin when he's had a bad day." Mathias's tone is cool and I want to gulp my words back like that last mouthful of wine. "Working together must make that difficult. Do you spend much time together outside the pub?"

"Is that one of your questions? Because they should be really probing questions, where you ask a lot in only a few words," I offer. "Like, what do you do in your spare time and who do you do it with , which would cover interests and hobbies and friends in one shot."

What I want to know is it's obvious you and Kalle don't get along, so what's up with that? But I don't think the time is right for that, even though Mathias will undoubtedly give me more information than notoriously close-mouthed Kalle.

Mathias quirks a smile. "Thank you for the clarification. That was definitely not a question, since I'm limited to three. All right, I need to make this a good one, so… What is your favourite thing about living in Battle Harbour?"

"The way the sun rises over the ocean," I answer automatically. "Where my parents live, it's on a ridge and the perfect spot to watch the sun rise. My sisters and I have a thing when we meet a few times a year and watch it."

"During the solstices and equinoxes?"

"Actually, yes."

"How very pagan of you." Mathias lifts his glass to me. "I've done research into my ancestors, and the Vikings were aggressive pagans. I'm not sure how one can be an aggressive pagan, though."

"Sounds blood-thirsty. Rituals and human sacrifices, maybe?"

"You must not think much of your Viking ancestors," he chides.

"You sound like Odin. He's always trying to promote Viking history."

The smile dims a bit. "Are you friendly with all my cousins, or just Kalle? Ah, but you must be, to be in the wedding party."

I was a bridesmaid purely because Camille didn't have the friends to fill the ranks, but I'm not about to tell Mathias that. "I don't know Camille too well, but what I do know, I like. And I've sort of grown up at the castle, helping my father when I could, so I know the boys and Lyra from afar rather than being close friends. Except for Kalle. We learned to drive together, and we've been friends ever since. What about you? Are you close with your siblings?"

"Honestly, Jonas is an insufferable bore, and Renee is too obsessed with her upcoming wedding to pay any attention to anyone other than her wedding planner. I used to wish I was closer to my cousins," he says with a wistful note in his deep voice.

"You don't spend much family time together?"

"That's my father's fault. He holds somewhat of a grudge against his brother."

"Against King Magnus?" The king of Laandia is always top of the world's list of most popular monarchies, and even in Battle Harbour, it's rare to hear a word spoken against him.

"Afraid so." He spins the tagliatelle around the tines of his fork and I have to wait until he finishes the mouthful for him to continue.

"Long ago," he begins, and I lean forward, expecting a variation of a fairy tale where two brothers fight over the love of a good woman. "When my grandfather Euan was still alive, my uncle promised to step down in the line of succession. My father was supposed to take the throne."

I pause because that seems… unlikely. I've never heard that before, but then again, I'm not privy to the inner workings of the monarchy. Still, I can't imagine Laandia without King Magnus. "I didn't know that."

"Not many do. Odin's abdication at his wedding was a sore spot for my father."

"I'm sure." My thoughts scrambling, I pull on a thread. "I had no idea. So if this had happened and Magnus had stepped down and your father had become king, then you would be the crown prince instead of Kalle?"

Mathias nods. "King Magnus would have stayed with his band. I'm sure a lot of things would be different. "

From the clipped tone in Mathias's voice, I get the sense he thinks different equals better .

For the first time today, a little red flag is raised. Not entirely red—more like a dusty rose, but it makes me uneasy. Because of my father's position, as well as the fact King Magnus is just so cool to have ruling my country, my loyalty toward the royal family has always been a constant. To consider how things might have been different… I don't want to think about that.

Mathias must read my reluctance on my face. "There's no sense of discussing things which will never be. I shouldn't have mentioned it. I take it Kalle has never spoken of this?"

I shake my head. "Would you want to be king?" I have to ask. "If that's how it had turned out? Kalle…"

Kalle does not want to be king. Everyone knows that.

"I would consider it an honour and a privilege," Mathias says in a low voice. "Now, is there anything else you'd like to know about me, other than boring information about my family, or should I move on to questions for you?"

"Why me?" I blurt out. When Mathias frowns, I wave a hand between us. "I'm the daughter of a groundskeeper and I'm the manager of a pub. You date women who aren't managers of a pub. I have to admit, I'm curious—out of all the women at the wedding, why me?"

"Other than the fact you're a beautiful woman who seems very accomplished for living here?"

I think that's a slight on Battle Harbour but I let it go. "I don't paint or sing, and my French is passable at best. I like to garden and I'm really good at bookkeeping and making schedules. I would not consider me accomplished, but thank you for saying so. "

"You sound like you read Jane Austen."

"And love Bridgerton, so my ideas might be a little skewed."

"Not at all. You know what really caught my interest when I met you?" Mathias leans forward. "You kept your shoes on for the entire wedding."

"My… shoes…?"

"Most of the other women your age danced in their bare feet, or those horrible sneakers. I like that you kept on your shoes."

I smile, like he's given me a compliment, only I don't really know if Mathias is joking or not. And under the table, I slip my feet back into my shoes.