Freya had turned off the ringer to her phone when she'd been with her father, not even remembering to turn it back on when she'd arrived at the hotel. When she finally woke up, she had a few missed calls from Tristan and Claire. Tristan had left her a text:

Must've gone to a hotel which I totally understand. Just check in with me when you get this message, so I know you are all right.

This was in contrary to Claire's somewhat demeaning voicemails about how selfish Freya was and how could she add more stress to their mother.

Freya deleted all of Claire's messages and quickly replied to Tristan to let him know she was fine and would catch up with him at the hospital.

When Freya arrived at the hospital, it was Will who'd chose to confront her.

He stopped her in the hallway. "I don't know what sick game you are playing here, Freya. Just know, I will not allow you to add more stress to mom. Do I make myself clear?"

Freya didn't answer; the last thing she wanted was to cause a scene or a confrontation. She sidestepped him to get around, making her way to her father's room.

Tristan hadn't arrived, but Claire and her mother were both at her father's side. She said good morning, only getting a quiet response from her dad, who was quickly falling asleep. She figured he was exhausted.

Before either her mom or Claire could say anything to her, the nurse walked in and gave them an update. Shortly after, Magnus had called.

When Freya hung up with Magnus, she found her mother waiting behind her.

Was she eavesdropping? she wondered, trying to gauge Jean-Paul's reaction, but he was stoic with not a word around others. She supposed the security detail roles were not much different from the Queen's Guards in England.

Her mother glanced over at Jean-Paul, huffing under her breath. "You do not have to stay. Someone can let you know if your father goes home."

"Why wouldn't I stay? I want to see him go home, just like the rest of you do, Mom."

Freya was confused as to why her mother would suggest that.

"I know you have many important things to attend to," she looked over her shoulder at Jean-Paul again, "and to be honest, I don't want a spectacle around your father."

"And what spectacle might I be causing?"

"Well, Freya. I don't know. You turn up here with this man, watching your every move and then you don't even bother telling anyone your whereabouts, opting for the hotel. And why didn't you stay at the house?"

Freya took a deep calming breath to control her nerves. She knew her mother was trying to push her buttons.

"Mom, I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone I was staying at a hotel. But as you've suggested more than once, even now, I seem to be somewhat unwelcome. I didn't want to impose, and it was late, so I did what I had to do to ensure everyone's comfort."

"So, staying at a hotel was the solution?" Doris' voice was agitated.

"I don't know, Mom. I don't know anymore with any of you. I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't. You all are attacking me, blaming me, going out of your way to ensure that I don't feel welcome. So, tell me, Mom, why on earth would you want me there? Huh?"

Freya bit down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She and her mother had a tumultuous relationship since her dancing career was over. Doris had ideas about her returning home and settling down with a nice young man to start a family. She couldn't understand why Freya wanted to continue in the city and keep her entire life separated from the rest of her family; it wasn't in her mother's plan for her. All along, dance seemed like it would go away, anyway, in Doris' opinion from what she'd told Freya.

"Freya, I don't know you anymore. Since you had that dance injury, you've evolved into a person I cannot support. Your way of thinking, your standoffish demeanor and need to be such a recluse isn't who I raised. And now this entire fiasco surrounding that prince. People calling, knocking on our door? You know, people are talking. It's not all good either. People are saying you are a gold digger -"

Freya put her hand up in the air, motioning her mother to stop.

"I can't do this, Mom. I'm sorry I'm not the person you want me to be, but this is who I am. And I really don't care what people say about me. I know what I am and am not doing. I won't lie, I'm sad you can't see it, but I cannot force you in any direction either. I can only be true to myself and allow for what may develop, happen organically." Freya took a deep breath. "I'm proud of who I am and what I'm accomplishing. I have my own home and business, I have zero debt, and a good amount of money in savings. I love my job and my business. The people I work with and work for all respect me, and I them, and I'm only twenty-five years old."

Freya stood pensively for a few moments, recognizing how little credit she received from most of her family. It made her truly sad, but it also was an eye-opener.

"I can't force you to be happy for me, Mom. And I won't argue with you about the choices I make for myself. Just know, I am careful about how I think things through. Clearly, or I wouldn't be where I am in life. Now, if you don't mind. I'm going to stay at Dads’ side until he gets to go home. I'll go back to the city then."

She didn't wait for a reply from her mother. It didn't matter.

Tristan arrived at the hospital later in the morning. He whispered into their father's ear causing Mark to laugh. Freya smiled, glad to see her father on the mend, but Claire, her mother, and Will all were indifferent.

They spoke amongst themselves when Mark would doze off, not one interested in talking to Freya. She didn't mind. She also didn't have the energy to care.

"What's the news on Dad?" Tristan asked.

"Hopefully, he'll be able to go home today. They are going to run one more test, and if all comes back well, he's a free man." Freya smiled.

"That's great news," an excited Tristan said.

"He's being referred to one of the top cardiologists in the area. His follow up care will be crucial to not relapsing. He's not entirely out of the dark, just yet," their mother said sternly.

"Doris, you make it sound all doom and gloom. I'll be fine," Mark assured them.

"Fine? Okay, Mark, if you say so. Because from where I'm standing and from what I witnessed, you were not and are not fine."

Mark didn’t say a word, he only smiled. Freya had a lot of her father in her. They both weren't too keen on confrontation unless they absolutely had to speak up.

"So, Sis, what's your plan? How long are you going to stay?"

When Tristan asked, Freya noticed both Claire and Will perk up.

"I'll be leaving as soon as Dad is released." She smiled. "I'll call and check in on you, Dad. Okay?"

Her father smiled and reached out to squeeze her hand. She knew he understood there was tension.

"Have you had breakfast?"

Freya nodded.

"Come on, let’s go see what they have in the cafeteria." Tristan waited for Freya to stand.

"Do any of you want to join us?" He offered, but the rest only shook their heads.

"Dad, I'm going to grab a bite to eat with Tristan. We'll be right back." She smiled as her father acknowledged her.

In the cafeteria, they both grabbed oatmeal and a coffee. Freya suggested to Jean-Paul that he get something to eat as well, but he politely declined.

"Do they ever eat?" Tristan asked quietly from across the table.

"They do. I just don't know when." She laughed.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't tell you all I was staying at a hotel. It was very last minute. Plus all the animosity. I just can't deal with any of it right now, Tristan."

Her brother reached over and held her hand.

"Freya, I can't tell you how to handle your relationship with the family. But I'll repeat what I said last night. I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

"I appreciate it. I just have so much going on as it is, but when it comes to the family, it’s like I can't catch a break. Honestly, I was at a point that I didn't care anymore. But now with Dad, well, obviously, I do care."

"Sorry to change the topic so drastically. But Claire is pregnant?"

Tristan looked genuinely stunned. Freya thought Claire had only kept it from her, but it appeared she'd kept Tristan in the dark as well.

"Yeah! She paid me a visit at my place. She'd tagged along with Ron on a quick trip into Seattle. Anyway, I was just as shocked as you are. I honestly thought I was the only one who didn't know."

"I brought it up after you left last night. Because yeah, I had no clue. Apparently, she'd posted it on social media, and mom kind of lost it, saying that you and I were so insensitive and hadn't bothered to call to congratulate her or even leave a comment to her announcement. I told mom that I never go on social media and that I highly doubted you did either."

"Are you kidding me? She expected us to know from that?" Freya rolled her eyes in frustration. "What is with them? Seriously, Claire really needs to grow the heck up. And Mom isn't doing her any favors by coddling her every whim. But what do I know?" She laughed, and Tristan joined in as they scooped the extra thick oatmeal.

"Tell me about your prince," he said, raising his eyebrows.

"He's not my prince. There isn't a lot to tell."

"But you are traveling halfway around the world to spend the holidays with him?"

"I am, and I intend to get to know him better."

"So, are you two dating?"

"No, Tristan. Once again, we are friends. Only friends."

"If you say so," he joked.

"Stop! I mean it." She smiled. "How about you? I can't believe there is no one in your life. Come on, you are like a stud muffin." She laughed.

"Oh, totally. Nah, I have friends but no one I'm serious with. I've told you before, I travel too much for any of it. And our siblings are the best examples of blissful marriages."

Freya smiled. "Yeah, as much as I'd like to blame someone else, I can't. I suppose they have the relationship that works best for them. You know? I personally just don't want the same things. I don't want to come back here and grow old. Nothing wrong with it, but that's not for me. I never wanted to stay here, and I think that is the crux of the issues mom has with me. No matter how I try to explain it, all she hears is that I'm too good for this place and that is so far from the truth. I just enjoy the city more. I like going to the theater, the shows, the games when I can. I like being where my business has potential to grow. It is thriving, Tristan. I can see it becoming a top contending studio. I wouldn't have that here."

Her brother smiled warmly as he listened.

"I love everything about being in the city. The sky rises, the proximity to just about all the services. All kinds of great ethnic foods. Really, I know it’s not for everyone, but it is for me."

"Freya, you don't need to convince me. If anyone understands, it is me. Obviously, I, too, live away from the family. Portland isn't very different in that sense from Seattle. The vibe might be, but everything you've cited is some of the same reasons I can't see myself ever coming back to this place. I love it here, but I don't want to move back. Besides, I'd be stagnant in my career if I ever attempted to work around here."

They sat quietly sipping their coffee after abandoning the oatmeal.

"If your prince asked you to date him, would you?"

Tristan sprang the question on her from left field. She'd tried to avoid thinking about Magnus as anything but a friend.

"I like him. If that is what you are asking me. He's confessed to liking me as well. But I don't know if I'd date him. I suppose that is the real reason I want to visit his country, to find out if I can be in a relationship with someone of his standing. You know, if it ever came to it."

If she was honest with herself, she was falling fast for Magnus.

Magnus was standing in the sitting room, looking out the window toward the west gardens. It was his mother’s favorite garden. She tended to it as much as she could. He was sipping on a scotch when he heard someone enter the room, but then they seemed to have left when they noticed him. He figured it was one of the employees. They didn't work in a room if anyone from the family was around.

He'd closed his eyes, taking in a deep calming breath when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Magnus quickly turned, only to find himself face to face with his sister, Cossette.

His free hand fisted at his side as he made every attempt to keep his facial gestures as motionless as possible.

But Cossette wore a wild smirk on her lips that only made him angry as if she were mocking him.

Without saying a word, he walked away, leaving her alone in laughter.

Maybe she truly is crazy, he thought as he exited the room.

Unfortunately for him, a few feet away he stumbled upon Santiago. "What are you doing here?" he said abruptly.

"I'm here to join the family."

Magnus gave him a quizzical expression. "As who's guest?"

"A guest? My dear friend. I am not here as a guest. I'm here to take my place at the side of my beloved."

Santiago wore a smile so deceitful, Magnus wanted nothing more than to punch it off his face.

"I'm part of your family now." He paused for effect. "Oh, haven't you heard? Cossette and I eloped."

Magnus was about to punch Santiago when his parents circled the corner. The King immediately held Magnus back, alerting Gerard to help.

Magnus was seething with anger. It couldn't be true. There was no way they'd managed to elope without his father's consent.

"Father, what is this that Santiago has said?"

"What do you mean?"

"Santiago de la Cruz claims he and Cossette have eloped."

The Queen gasped. "Impossible!"

Santiago stood there with that smirk on his face, and Gerard and the King's head security man at his side.

"Mr. de la Cruz, explain yourself!"

But it wasn't Santiago who'd do the talking. No. It was Cossette who'd now joined the crowd at Santiago's side.

"Tsk. Tsk. That is no way for a Crown Prince to behave." She laughed. "I'm so glad we are all together. I guess my joyful little secret is out. Aren't you all going to congratulate us?" She looped her arm in Santiago’s, turning to kiss him on the lips.

"Cossette! That is enough," the Queen scolded. "That is no way to behave before your King and Father."

Cossette stared their mother straight in the eyes as if to challenge her but said not one word in response.

"Let us go into the sitting room to finish this discussion," the King commanded. “Gerard, please have men outside the door, but I'll need the two of you in here, with me."

Magnus wondered why his father hadn't asked his head security man to handle the matter, but he quickly brushed it off.

As they all found places in the sitting room, the King once again spoke.

"What is this, Cossette? You've eloped?"

"As you heard, Your Majesty, it is true. Santiago and I were married a couple of months ago in Geneva."

They all immediately understood what that meant. Cossette's marriage to Santiago would stand. It was a calculated move on Cossette's behalf. Their country had only one exception to bypassing the King's approval to a marriage: if the marriage took place in Geneva, their monarchy would honor it as such due to a previous law encoded and honored that went back more than a century when a then Crown Prince fled for his life and married. The story said that when the then King of Martierra was gravely ill, and the Crown Prince’s life was in danger, he was sent to Geneva to fulfill his marital duties, thus, making any marriage of a royal from Martierra taken place in Geneva, legitimate.

Magnus wanted to call his sister a cunning snake. But he didn't, figuring his parents wouldn't appreciate it too much. Instead, he held his tongue.

"It seems you are determined on challenging us at every which turn, Cossette. I cannot begin to understand why, but I also will not stand for these actions. You've made your choices very clear." The King stopped himself from saying anything else as Magnus noticed his mother intently staring at him.

"Cossette, I'm going to ask you to collect your belongings and leave with your husband. Since you are now a married woman, we are under no obligation to house you in the palace nor support you." The Queen turned to Gerard. "Please, have her ladies maid immediately gather the Princess’s belongings and have them brought down. Also, let the butler know that the Princess and her husband will not be joining us for dinner. They may clear the table of the additional place settings. Oh, and one last thing. Please have our secretaries see us immediately."

You could hear a pin drop as the Queen gave out instructions.

Magnus could see tears building up at the edges of his sister's eyes.

Cossette had gravely underestimated their mother.

"You cannot do this to me, Mother!" Cossette screamed, "Only the King can make such demands in the palace."

"My dear, what makes you think this isn't by order of the King?"

"Because you are the one giving the orders."

The King spoke up. "Cossette, the Queen and I are one. Her command is just as good as if I'd given it."

"You, Father, you support this?"

"I do."

Cossette stormed out of the room, yelling back at Santiago to follow her.

The poor bloke didn't know how to react. It clearly wasn't what he'd signed up for, Magnus thought.

"Julian," the King called to his head security, "please see to it that the Princess and her husband leave the premises. Also, they are welcome to return, but only with an appointment, like everyone else."

Julian immediately left to do the King's bidding, leaving Magnus and his mother alone with him.

"Father, you don't' think that is too harsh?" Magnus asked.

"Harsh? That is nothing. Cossette’s actions will be called treasonous. Your mother was quick to recognize this." The King looked at his wife. “Thank you, my dear. I know how difficult this must be as a mother, but what our daughter is doing is extreme,” the King said.

“No need to thank me. We have a duty to the people of Martierra. How can we be expected to uphold the laws of our people if we cannot properly do so within the walls of this palace?”

“Mother, do you not believe you are going to further infuriate Cossette?” Magnus asked with concern.

“Of course, she’ll be angry. But this is all her doing. We cannot be held hostage by our own daughter over what appears to be a royal tantrum. This is ridiculous.” The Queen was clear that she wouldn’t put up with it. Magnus had never seen her so upset.

"I agree. I suppose I'm simply trying to look at an approach that would keep her from going ballistic. But you are correct, Mother. These are those moments our people look to us to see how we will handle them."

"As soon as Gerard and Julian return, we'll head to dinner. There is a strong precedence being set, and we will not bend to your sister's whims."

The Queen who rarely drank served herself a glass of wine. The King joined her as Magnus retrieved the glass of Scotch he'd abandoned earlier.

He looked around the sitting room. He'd grown up in the palace, it had been his whole world. He thought he knew then what life was like as a royal. Yet, there he stood, in proximity to his parents, the King and Queen, and he was more lost than he'd ever been. The feelings running through him at that very moment were foreign. He felt his small family had been broken apart. And all for what?