A Nordic King

The sight makes me feel sick to my stomach. I barely feel the cold itself, but as the wind and snow are starting to pick up, I just know that Snarf Snarf will get hypothermic fast, if I even find him at all. He may have grown a lot in the last month or so but he’s still a small pig with delicate skin. The more that I follow the prints, leading away from the square and toward Amalie Garden, the more I’m starting to panic. The snow is starting to cover his tracks and the garden is fairly large.

“Snarf Snarf!” I call out as I cross the street to the garden, the wind whipping snowflakes in my hair. I gather my cardigan close to my neck as the air starts to freeze over my skin, following his faint tracks until they stop altogether before a giant hedge. I don’t even know why I’m calling for him. The girls have been teaching him tricks but I’ve yet to see him respond to his name.

Still, it can’t hurt.

“Snarf Snarf!” I yell again in a high voice.

I listen. I don’t hear anything but the snow and wind and the occasional car driving past.

I shiver, my nose and ears now officially frozen and continue walking into the park. I don’t even have my phone on me to use as a light, and in the darkness the lampposts seem few and far between. I head toward the fountain in the middle, thinking maybe he went there to get a drink, but I only see a couple, hand in hand, taking an evening stroll.

They give me a funny look as I pass them since I’m obviously not dressed for the weather in my woolen mini-skirt. “You haven’t seen a pig, have you?” I say, teeth chattering.

They glance at each other and keep walking. Proof right there that not everyone in this city speaks English. Or maybe they do and the fact that I’m barely dressed in a snowstorm and searching for a bloody pig means I have a screw loose or two.

I can’t deny that either. I shouldn’t be out here. I’m getting colder by the minute, and the longer I look, the more my heart starts to break. I just know I can’t go back without the pig. I just can’t. To give up now means he’ll die and I…

I’m not sure what comes over me.

Panic has me by the throat.

Tears start to blur my vision.

Aksel will be so angry, anger that will get directed at me for not supervising them. But more than that, the girls will be crushed and he will drown with guilt. None of this is his fault but I’ve seen how protective he is over them, I’ve seen how he harbors this sadness over Helena. I know he was in the car with her when she died—maybe he feels responsible.

Either way, I can’t fail. I can’t let them down. I can’t fuck up again. I’m so invested in him, so invested in the girls, I can’t lose them. And if I lose him, I feel like I’ll lose everything.

For the first time in my twenty-six years, I feel like I’m actually living a life I love. For the first time, I have everything to lose.

“Snarf Snarf!” I yell, my tears freezing on my face. I’m fully aware of how ridiculous I sound yelling that name into the wind but I can’t help it. I continue to stumble along in the slippery snow, now running out of the park and to the promenade along the waterfront. The opera house is shining across the water, probably filled with music and joy and tuxedos and all I can feel is the kind of terror that makes your heart sink so low in your chest you don’t think it will ever rise again.

Please let me find him, please let him be okay.

“Aurora!”

Aksel’s voice booms across the park and I turn to see him jogging toward me.

“I can’t find him,” I cry out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He stops in front of me, skidding in the snow. He’s wearing pajama pants tucked into boots, and a coat, with another coat in his arms. His eyes are wild, shining in the waning light of the lampposts.

“For helvede,” he swears, putting the coat over my shoulders. “Aurora, what are you doing? You’ve gone mad.”

His hand goes to my cheek and he winces. I barely feel it. You’d think that for the first time he’s touched me in such an intimate way that my body would be dancing with fire, but I can’t feel anything at all. “You’re frozen,” he practically growls at me. “I’m getting you inside.”

“No,” I cry out. “I have to find him.”

“Aurora, I need to get you inside.”

His arms go around my shoulders and he tries to push me toward the palace.

“The girls…” I sob, looking around me, trying in vain to spot him. “They’ll die if he dies. I can’t see them like that. I can’t have them go through that.”

“They’ll understand.”

“They won’t!” I yell at him. “And you’ll blame me!”

He flinches like I’ve slapped him across the face. “Blame you?”

I take the moment to rip out of his grasp and start running along the water, calling for Snarf Snarf over and over again.

Then my foot hits an icy patch of snow and I go sliding forward, trying to catch my balance and falling anyway. My knees crash into the pavement and I yelp, pain shooting through me, making me crumble until my cheek is pressed into the snow.

I’m full-on crying now, everything coming out of me, things that were lying dormant, things I didn’t know still existed. I’m in pain and I’m cold and I feel like I’ve finally found my place in the world, only to realize how temporary it really is.

I finally have a family and they aren’t mine to keep.

I’m crying so hard I barely realize that Aksel is behind me, his warmth coating me like a shroud, pulling me to my feet. I’m both aware that he’s a king and he’s out in public like this and at the same time I’m torn by grief I’d never recognized. Grieving for a loss that hasn’t happened yet.

And just like that, all the energy is drained out of me, like rapidly thawing snow. I collapse back against Aksel and he scoops me up into his arms. I have just enough strength to bury my face into the crook of his neck, trying to hide from everything, trying to breathe.

I hear his heartbeat.

I feel his hot breath on my skin.

I feel the strength of his muscles as they hold me up, protecting me.

It’s the only time I’ve felt protected before. The only time I’ve ever felt safe.

I try and hang onto that feeling as the cold comes for me, again and again, tempered by numbness.

Then the snow stops hitting my cheek and there are bright lights and squeaking floors.

We go up the stairs and Aksel is barking at someone to move the chair to the fireplace.

He gently places me in the chair and I’m swaddled with blanket upon blanket, the fire roaring in front of me.

Then he leaves.

I see Karla’s face peering at me as she tucks the blanket in around my chin, my world slowly rocking back into place. I want to run after him, I want to help, I don’t want to be here, numb and useless. But I have no energy to move. I feel like everything I have is going toward keeping me alive, even though I’d give it all to run out the door and back into the snow.

“Go to your room,” Maja’s voice comes through, dancing with the flames. I manage to raise my head to see her standing behind Clara and Freja who are off to the side of me, looking stunned.

Karla says something about warm soup and disappears.

My eyes meet Clara’s and I wish I could tell her how sorry I am that I came back empty-handed. But she looks more concerned for me than anything else.

“You’re so cold,” she says, putting her hand on my hand, and from that alone I’m melting in my heart. I’ve been so deprived of touch, I’ve had to grow numb to finally feel it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. She frowns, not understanding. Or perhaps my voice was too shaky, too low, to hear.

“Clara, lad os g?,” Maja says, holding out her hand for her.

I can tell Clara doesn’t want to leave my side. She’s staring at me, torn, filled with sorrow. She’s lost so much at her age.

Then her attention is stolen.

“Papa!” she cries out, and I manage to look over my shoulder to see Aksel enter the room, striding toward us. Snowflakes rest in his hair, on his shoulders, his coat held tight across his chest. His eyes still have that edge, that wildness, as they rake over me, assessing the damage. Then he opens his coat and a little pink snout pops out.