Chapter Text
When Christmas rolls around, Wilhelm is still not in the mood to talk to him, avoiding his company whenever possible and giving him mono-syllabic answers when it can’t be helped. Their parents surely notice but do not comment on it directly. As long as the tensions remain silent, so will they.
Nevertheless, the subdued mood spreads from Wilhelm to Erik, and from Erik to both of their parents. It is entirely at odds with the holiday spirit of the Palace. The decorations are lavish but tasteful, from the enormous Christmas tree to the nativity scene, from the festive wreaths to the strings of Pepparkaka hearts that grundskola students made for them. They all have one thing in common: they fail to generate the much-needed holiday cheer.
But Erik isn’t without means. He is not above using good old bribery if it means getting him a little goodwill.
On Christmas Eve, he hands his gift over to Wilhelm: a potted plant decorated with a red bow.
“What is this?” Wilhem asks, mystified.
“That, dear brother, is a plant. Something called the St John's Wort. It’s a flower typically found in the Balearic islands.”
“Oh… okay. Alright. Thanks?”
Erik grins. “Don’t worry, I know you don’t rank among the horticulturalists. I’m taking you on a vacation for winter break. A friend of mine has a place in Mallorca and he is always moaning that it’s empty most of the year.” Their mother is already in on it. Erik had spoken to her and convinced her that Wilhelm deserves a treat after doing so well at Hillerska, after turning everything around.
“Really? A vacation?” Wilhelm looks stunned.
“You can bring a friend along, if you like.” Erik winks at him quickly, in a conspirative manner, and is gratified to see a tentative smile forming on his brother’s face. “Of course, I’ll be there right along with you and make sure no one gets into trouble.”
Kristina huffs a little. “I’m afraid I’m letting the mice dance on the table and supervise themselves. I want you all to be on your best behavior, is that understood?”
And so the beginning of March finds them at a picturesque property in the northern countryside, far from prying eyes. The finca was built in the typical local style, with bright stone walls and wooden beams, and offers some fantastic amenities, primarily a large pool that can be heated. But the landscape is what truly elevates the place. The almond trees are already bursting with blossoms, the richly laden branches gently swaying in the breeze. The air they breathe in is mild and fragrant, the colors of the environment brilliantly clear in the sun. It is a striking contrast to the drab winter monotony of Sweden, which exists mostly in the gray to brown spectrum in the colder months.
“And that’s just for us?” Simon asks as if he can’t believe his luck.
“Only us,” Erik confirms.
“And the personal protection officers,” Wilhelm adds. Malin and Johan accompany them, but they are all used to their presence anyway. Even Simon has adapted to them. The officers keep their distance, declining every invitation to have a drink and relax, and look as diligent and serious as ever.
They spend time together, hiking in the Serra de Tramuntana or chartering a boat and sailing, but Erik also takes the opportunity to visit some friends and give his brother some privacy. He goes clubbing in Ibiza for two days and hopes that no paparazzi pics will make it back to Sweden.
What he remembers most from this vacation is quietly relaxing at the pool with Wilhelm and Simon, the latter laying his head in the former’s lap, both of them half asleep and sunbathing like lazy lizards. They have no staff and cook for themselves with varying degrees of success. The evenings they spend on the terrace by the pool, absorbed in quiet conversation, laughing, drinking some sangría. Simon is easy to get along with.
It is with great relief that Erik notices his strained relationship with Wilhelm thawing again. With all his heart he wishes he could heal their rift as quickly as possible, make him forget they ever argued – but it doesn’t work like that; it has quickly become apparent that there are no magical solutions. Wilhelm lost his trust in him and he needs to work to regain it. Erik apologizes again for his biases and assumptions, his arrogance, and that seems to help a little. But mostly it helps when he listens to his brother, really listens, and doesn’t say anything.
---
It is around Easter that Erik sees his brother again.
“So, what are the sessions like?” he asks very casually.
Wilhelm looks up from his phone. Considering his smitten smile there is not a shred of mystery who he was texting. “Why, are you interested in your own therapy?”
“Har har.”
“I’m serious,” Wilhelm says with a lopsided smirk. “You and therapy, it would be the perfect match.”
Erik throws a cushion at this head. “I’m in a good place mentally, thank you for your concern.”
“You’re deluded! That’s what you are!” Wilhelm throws the cushion back. It hits Erik flat in the chest. “Hey, and maybe individual therapy is only the first step. We could do family therapy in the future. Can you imagine?”
“Heads will roll before that happens,” Erik laughs. “Seriously though, what is it like? Are the sessions helpful for you?” They found a highly recommended Stockholm-based therapist who specializes in adolescents.
A shrug. “I guess, yeah. I don’t know. We’ll talk about something and she’ll constantly tell me, ‘that sounds really difficult’ . And then I’m annoyed because it’s not difficult, it’s just my life. She doesn’t get it.”
“Hm.” Erik had hoped for more. “Do you want to see someone else?”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Wilhelm replies and shifts his attention to his phone again.
---
At the beginning of summer, Wilhelm decides to talk to his parents.
Erik is honored his brother confided in him earlier, asking for his advice and support. They have strategized how the conversation could go and Wilhelm has practiced what he wanted to say with a painful level of determination. Now that the moment has come, Erik is almost as nervous as his brother. He wishes he could say that their parents will react well, but truthfully his confidence is built on shaky grounds. Is it possible that they can have no inkling at all? Will this come as a total surprise to them?
They have just finished a rather elaborate dinner with crayfish pasta during which Wilhelm has barely said two words. The kitchen staff has supplied them with chilled cocktails of blackberry and elderflower as they retreated into the living room. The sun is still bright even at this hour, bathing everything in warm light. It could be a perfect summer evening.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Wilhelm begins, putting the cocktail aside. “Actually, I've been meaning to tell you for some time now.” He takes a deep breath and informs his parents that he is queer. Definitively attracted to men. Possibly attracted to women. Zero percent heterosexual. And happy about it.
The silence is deafening when he stops talking. Ludvig’s face is impossible to read.
In a measured tone, Kristina finally says, “I’m not opposed… you’re just so awfully young to decide this.”
“The only thing I decided to do is tell you,” Wilhelm corrects her. He bites down on his lips, every line of his body screaming anxiety. Erik wants to shake his parents until they show the right reaction. “Also, there is another matter. While we’re at it.”
“Another?”
“I’m actually in a relationship. I am dating Simon Eriksson.”
Kristina looks at him with wide eyes. “The young man you went on a vacation with?”
“My friend from school, yes.”
“How long has this been going on?” The laser focus of her gaze finds Erik. “Were you aware?”
Wilhelm looks at her directly, a challenge in his eyes. “It’s been going on for a while. And I’m happy, if that matters to you at all.”
She splutters. “Of course it matters! Wilhelm! But there are rules, procedures – has this person been vetted?”
“I think we are getting a little side-tracked here,” Erik interjects. He shoots his father a brief look, a plea plainly visible in his eyes.
“Side-tracked?” Kristina seems incensed. “Someone has to ask the crucial questions!”
Ludvig stands up slowly and walks over to Wilhelm, careful not to look at his wife. He wraps his son in a hug. After a moment of frozen stillness, Wilhelm reciprocates and clings to his father like a drowning person. “It’s alright,” Ludvig mutters and strokes Wilhelm’s hair. “It’s alright. Thank you for telling us.”
“I’m so proud of you, little brother.” Erik squeezes Wilhelm’s shoulder.
Kristina comes over after a couple of moments, stroking Wilhelm’s back. “You should have told me sooner,” she says softly. “Of course, it’s alright, älskling. I never said it wasn’t.”
---
“You were aware,” she later accuses Erik.
“I was,” he admits.
“You are my successor. If anything impacts on our family, impacts on the monarchy, I cannot be kept out of the loop.”
Erik shrugs. “It was Wilhelm’s decision and his alone. I admit I actually forced his hand when it came to his coming out to me and I didn’t want to repeat my mistake.”
This reply does not satisfy Kristina. “What do you know about this Simon Eriksson?”
“I did properly vet him, actually. He’s a good kid. Top grades, part of the rowing team, star soloist of the choir. He lives in Bjärstad with his family and his sister also attends Hillerska.” He watches the realization sink in that Wilhelm is dating the, well, most common form of commoner. Not even nouveau riche, not even business aristocracy. Poor as a church mouse and about as well-connected, from their perspective.
“He doesn’t know what he’s dealing with,” Kristina says quietly, more to herself. “I can’t see this ending well.”
“They are young. Let them live their own life.”
Kristina shakes her head. “Erik, you of all people know how badly this can end. This isn’t just about Wilhelm and never has been. It’s about us all.”
“It is about him,” Erik disagrees. “He’s happier than he has been for years and we should do our best to keep it that way. And PR-wise, Wilhelm couldn’t have picked a better boyfriend anyway. It’s like Simon has been cooked up in a lab. He comes from a family of no connections or privileges. Everything that he has achieved, he achieved by himself.”
It is clear that his mother is not impressed. “Of all the people…” she sighs. “That boy goes to Hillerska and jumps into a relationship with a Bjärstad local the first chance he gets.”
She will come around, Erik thinks. For his brother’s sake he hopes sooner rather than later.
---
Wilhelm: This feels so grown-up.
Erik: It’s the first step to adulthood and perpetual boredom.
Wilhelm: It’s begun!
Wilhelm: A double dinner date. I can’t believe it.
Wilhelm: Want us to bring anything?
Erik: Just yourselves!
Erik officially lives at Drottningholm palace, as is only fitting for the future king, but spends most of his time at his girlfriend’s fancy penthouse apartment in Östermalm. (Life is one long, continuous trial).
Therese has met Wilhelm before, but did not yet have the pleasure of meeting Simon.
“I’m nervous,” she admits, brushing her hair out of her face. “What if we don’t get along?”
He kisses her neck. “You will get on like a house on fire, I promise it.”
The plan is to cook together. The fridge is overflowing with fresh ingredients and the kitchen ready for action. They decided on tacos.
Wilhelm and Simon have been together for five years at this point. The public reacted almost overwhelmingly favorably to them. There was a brief but stressful period in which the press dug around in Simon’s family life and past, painting him as an opportunistic social climber, but they did manage to get through it with minimal scratching. His story, subtly pushed by the royal PR machine, was just too good to resist.
They both live in London currently, where Simon pursues a promising career as a singer and Wilhelm, ironically, attends King’s College.
These days, his brother has managed to strike a balance between a mostly private life and his advocacy efforts for LGBT and mental health causes. His growing openness with his own struggles has been well rewarded with sympathy by the public and it has become a tradition for him to open Stockholm Pride each year. And yet, it is unclear whether he will remain in the line of succession in the long run. Erik knows that the royal role is something Wilhelm continues to struggle with and would not be surprised if he renounced his title once Erik (hopefully) becomes a father. It would be a sad day, no doubt about it, but he will keep his promise and let his brother live his life.
Simon is on an equally interesting and even more public trajectory. He shed the shyness of his adolescent years and is becoming a wildly popular celebrity entirely in his own right, known for his glamorous stage performances as well as his frank views and tongue-in-cheek anti-monarchist stance. His song “Fuck the Monarchy (Do it Well)” became an international hit, much to Erik’s chagrin – for a couple of weeks, his buddies wouldn’t stop playing it every time he entered a room.
The bell rings.
Therese looks at him anxiously and he kisses her again, quickly, telling her that everything will be fine.
They open the door together. Wilhelm is a head taller than he was during his school days, his arm casually resting around Simon’s shoulders. Simon smiles warmly, exuding easy confidence and a sort of natural charisma. He wears a form-fitting, mostly black outfit with asymmetrical shoulder cut-outs and has stacked silver bracelets on both his wrists. Faint kohl lines his eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Erik exclaims and introduces Therese to Simon.
“I’ve heard so much about you!” Therese hugs him and then holds him an arm length away, looking him up and down. “Jesus, your outfit is drop dead gorgeous.”
“I know! Isn’t it?” Simon laughs loudly. “As is yours, I’m impressed!”
Therese spins around once, letting her skirt swirl. “It was actually quite stressful picking the right outfit, let me tell you. I knew these guys wouldn’t notice if I wore a potato sack, but it’s not every day an international style icon visits my apartment!”
“I object to this characterization – I’m not entirely clueless,” Erik protests with a grin. He captures Wilhelm’s gaze, both of them looking amused. It is immediately clear that Therese and Simon formed an alliance and they’re in for it.