Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Simon and Wilhelm both reached for the pencil case at the same time. Once again, their hands touched, exactly like in the lesson before this year, but with the difference that it was not awkward now. It was the opposite, both Wilhelm and Simon attempted their best to not laugh out loud in class.
Since his speech about a month ago, they had become more open about their relationship, despite the lurid headlines and whispering behind their back. Eventually, Simon had to move to hillerska to keep the paparazzi from showing up, to his house. It had worked, in Hillerska they could live with full privacy.

The considerable fight with the court and his mother, however, was still a very vivid memory. According to her, he had smashed what was left of his good reputation. She had called him not very nice names out of anger, but had later ‘apologized’. Her apologies were always more like a justification why she had said what, without the slightest hint of regret. Later on, she had even insisted on getting to know Simon. Their tea hour at the palace had not been any less terrible. From how his mother had been talking, the ‘conversation’ could be better called an interrogation. It had almost been like she had a catalog of questions which she was going through. The only thing that would have completed the interrogation was her taking notes.

His father, the duke has been different from her. He had admitted that he had not been listening while Wilhelm gave his speech. It had amused both Wilhelm and Simon to know that they had not listened when Wilhelm came out to the world. Ludvig had voiced his conditionless support for Wilhelm and Simon, but had still reminded him of the succession crisis and his future duties. The Queen had suggested being with Simon, but only in the sense of an affair which he can keep behind the curtain. She was not really supporting the idea of him and Simon being an official couple, but that did not stop Wilhelm and Simon.

They did not go into full couple mode, however. To keep the other students from talking, they had different rooms and did not act as obvious when other people were around. All for the sake of appearance, but it was nothing compared to the hiding before the speech.

“Mr. Eriksson! Are you even paying attention?” called Mr. Englund from the front. To be honest, Simon had not paid attention. Handing Wilhelm a pen was a way to consuming task. Why did he forget a pen every time he came to class?

“I asked you to read out your results from task two of yesterday's homework. Would you please share them with the class?”

“Of course, Mr. Englund. So, my results —“ he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Malin entered the room.

She was paler than Wilhelm had ever seen her before. She had not looked that bad even after Erik passed away: “could the crown … crown prince, please follow me? His presence is required.”

“Of course he can. He is dismissed for the rest of the class” answered the math teacher almost immediately.

“Crown prince?” Malin looked at him.

Wilhelm looked at Simon. Simon looked back at him. Wilhelm shrugged his shoulders.

He did not know anything about a royal duty he had to attend that day. Had he missed something? Had he not read an email from his mother or Jan-Olof?

Slowly he got up and began packing this school materials in his backpack. He looked at Malin she still looked like she had seen a ghost. It seemed like she would like to run way. What could upset the never-showing-too-much-emotions Malin like that? She was always composed and allowed herself to hint anything with her emotions. This time it was different.

He picked up his backpack and followed her. She lead him together with his other guard through the corridors. Wilhelm always forgot how the other guard was called, despite being around him day in day out.

Very soon Wilhelm recognized where they were heading to: “have I done something bad, Malin? Why are we going to the headmistresses' office?”

She looked like she was about to break down crying: “I am sorry, but I am not allowed to speak to his highness in that matter. He will be informed by somebody who is allowed to.”

Wilhelm stopped dead tracks in front of the headmistresses' office: “Come on, Malin. Tell me what has happened. Another sex tape? Please, Malin, I trust you and you can trust me. Please, what do I have to do for you to tell me? I want to be prepared to argue back when I get in trouble.”

“I am sorry, Wilhelm, I can’t tell you. Please just go to the office and remember that I am always here for you. You can count on both of us.” She looked to her partner, who nodded agreeing.

Wilhelm hesitated for a brief moment before laying his hand on the door handle. What he did not know yet was that as soon as he entered the office, his life would never be the same. Everything would change as soon as he entered the room. After taking a deep breath he found the courage to enter the room.

Inside he saw his father, his two guards, the headmistress, Jan-Olof and two other members of the royal court’s staff. As they saw him, every single one of them, either bowed or curtsied deeply.

Wilhelm froze in the door frame. Everyone was dressed entirely in black. His father wore a black sash. His father bowed to him. He had never done that. That could only mean one thing. No… that could not be true. It just couldn’t.

After everyone lifted their heads again, his father began speaking: “could I please talk in private to my son.”

Everyone left? Now he was alone with his father in the office. Wilhelm looked around the room. On one wall there were pictures of ‘honorable students’. There was a picture of himself, his father, his grandparents, his mother and … Erik. It still hurt to see the engraving on Erik's picture.
‘HRH Crown prince Erik (2000-2021) Duke of Västergötland’

Between them hung a picture of August: ‘Baron August Horn of Årnäs’

And then there was his picture:

‘HRH Crown Prince Wilhelm (2005-) Duke of Värmland’

“Wilhelm, my boy” his father pulled him into a tight hug. Before he did so, Wilhelm was able to see that he had been crying; his eyes were red and puffy.

After a brief moment, he pulled away: “pappa? What has happened? Please tell me it is not what I think. Why did you bow to me, why did every single one of them? I’m not 18.”

A single tear rolled down his father's face again. He placed on arm around Wilhelm again and stroked his hair with the other: “Wilhelm, I just want you to remember that I love you and will always love you. I will support you for as long as I am alive, and I will do everything in my power to help you succeed. Okay? Remember that.”

“Pappa, please. Tell me” Wilhelm was now crying, too.

“Wilhelm, there has been an accident. Your mother was on her way home from the state visiting from Great Britain. The weather got really bad, there were turbulences above Norway. The pilots lost control of her plane. The plane came down outside from Oslo, somewhere in the fields. It was about four hours ago. Emergency services rushed to the scene, but it was too late. She’s gone, Wille. You are —“ His voice broke away in sobs.

“The Queen is dead, Long live King Wilhelm the first. If you decide that this is your name.”

Chapter Text

After his father had said that, Wilhelm felt like he had just been hit in the face.

Why does everything bad on this planet happen to him? Why not somebody else? At first, he became crown prince, now King, how was he supposed to manage all of that?

At that moment he realized more clearly than ever that he was just a child. Before this horrible message, he would have never admitted that, but it was what he was — a young boy. Too young to reign a country, even if it was only representative, but there was nobody else to take over the throne. It was true, they were in a succession crisis.

Erik had been trained to take over the throne starting at the age of 16 and had begun taking over duties at the age of 18. Wilhelm had not been prepared in the slightest bit. Yes, he had given his ‘coming out speech’, as it was called by the media, but that was pretty much it.

It took him nearly half an hour in his father's arms until he calmed down enough to talk again. His father seemed to have noticed that: “Is his majesty the King ready?”

Wilhelm burst into sarcastic laughter. His father had never called his mother ‘her majesty’ let alone the full title.

Between his sobs, the new, uncrowned King cried out: “don’t call me that, Pappa. For you, it is Wille and will always be Wille.”

His father dried his and his son's tears off: “thank you, Wille. Please, I’m begging you, please keep in mind who you are. I don’t want you to change, Wille, you are such a good boy. I could not imagine someone more fit for the throne, even if you fail to see that right now. You’ll see, it will turn out good. I know that his will be difficult for both of us. Just months ago him and now her, I wished it was different. Nobody at your age should go through that, and nobody should have to carry a burden that heavy. For me, it is not easy too, but together we will manage every task given to us. I will try to make it as easy for you as I possibly can until you graduated Hillerska.”

Wilhelm could tell those words had been written by his father in advance. His father was terrible at giving speeches without them being scripted and unprepared. He might have written those words himself, but it was definitely planned in advance what he was going to say.

“Thanks, Pappa. I appreciate that.” His voice was high, pinched and raw from crying for that long. His eyes were still burning, and he saw everything slightly blurred as the door was opened. Jan-Olof walked with the rest of the staff and guards in the room.

He was carrying a black suit. After he bowed to Wilhelm once again, he handed the suit over to the young monarch: “his majesty is required to wear a black suit. I ask his majesty if he could change into that after this conversation.”

Wilhelm nodded quickly.

“The prime minister and the cabinet will be informed as soon as his majesty agrees to. Subsequently, we will issue an official notification to the public and every flag will be lowered to half-mast. We will set the date for her majesty’s funeral. Her majesty’s coffin will be brought here by train and it will take one day. His majesty and the duke are required to meet it at the train station and escort it to Drottningholm palace. Every member of the cabinet will be holding a speech later this day, and his majesty will meet the prime minister later this evening. We will also organize a national minute of silence. His majesty has to give a speech later this evening which will be televised in Sweden but also internationally. The proclamation of his majesties ascension to the throne will take place tomorrow. Those are the plans for today. His majesty will be instructed on the necessary steps for the next day tomorrow.”

Wilhelm was beyond shocked. How was he supposed to manage all of that, when all he wanted to do was to hide underneath a blanket and never appear in the public again? When was he allowed to grieve this great loss? After Erik — he had at least four days to just let it all out. He had spent the majority of the days with laying in his late brother's bed and cry. Jan-Olof could not be serious, could he?

“Is all of that necessary? I lost my mother in the midst of grieving my brother. How am I supposed to switch off my emotions? This protocol does not include my wellbeing. If you care a tiny bit about me, you will give me one or two days. If my father is alright with it, he will be addressing the nation. Give me one or two days to realize all the changes. I'm not a machine, I’m human. And I’m 17, please give me space to breathe, I’m suffocating.” Screamed the Wilhelm. He felt the all too common feeling of panic rising inside him. His chest became tighter, so he began rubbing it, while trying to remember every coping mechanism Boris had taught him.

Jan-Olof looked like he wanted to say something against what Wilhelm just asked him, but he was his new ‘boss’. The new head of state. The highest-ranking official in the country. Jan-Olof kept looking at him: “whatever his majesty wishes for. However, this is very important to honor the legacy of her majesty Queen Kristina. Please take it into consideration. Since Duke Ludvig will only be a member of the royal family until his majesty’s eighteenth birthday.”

It would not be Jan-Olof if he would not try to convince him to give a speech which do does not want to give.

Wilhelm let himself fall into a chair and buried his face with his hands. He would like to stay in that position forever, or at least until the royal entourage left. Maybe they would just leave if he blocked their attempts of trying to talk to him out. Of course, they would not leave without him. He was unable to comprehend what had happened during this day.

Wilhelm removed his hands from his face and hugged himself instead. It somehow gave him a feeling of warmth. The same warmth he had felt when he was hugged by Simon, Erik, or even his mother: “Why is Pappa only a part of my family until I’m eighteen?”

Jan-Olof sighed: “his highness Duke Ludvig married into the royal family. He will regain his Title of Count, with which he was born with, when his majesty turns eighteen. The Duke's duties are fulfilled with his majesty being eighteen because he is no longer her majesties consort.”

Ludvig laid his hand gently on Wilhelm's shoulder and smiled at him sadly with tearful eyes: “Wille, that does not mean I’m gone. I will always support you and give you advice you if you ask me to do so.”

“Jan-Olof, I don’t agree with that” Wilhelm shot up from the chair and positioned himself sight across the late Queens advisor. He tried to be intimidating, even if he knew he wasn’t scaring anyone. “Pappa will keep his title till his last day on his planet. He is my father, the king's father if you want to be precise, he is relevant for the wellbeing of this country. Make it work.”

Wilhelm could see behind the iron façade of Jan-Olofs face a mixture of desperation, grief, but also annoyance. He had already enough of the young monarch.

“Whatever his majesty wishes for. But we need to leave, soon. We cannot keep quiet anymore, there are already speculations. We have to make the statement.”

“Do what you have to do.” Wilhelm picked up the suit and made his way to leave the room when he heard the advisor talking again: “how would his majesty like to be called? We needed to publish the news with an official name and signature. Carl Gustav has been advised it is the tradi —“

Without even turning around, Wilhelm interrupted him: “Wilhelm. My parents named me like that for a reason. You are not going to take that away from me.” ‘It is the only thing I have left’ he added without saying it out loud.

He did not wait for an answer and began running through the corridors. The steps behind him reminded him that he would never be alone from now on. His guards will be following him on every single step again. He wished he could just turn around and scream at them that he wanted to be alone, but he couldn’t. What if someone filmed him and posted it? He could not let that happen. Just the thought about being watched all the time made him nauseous.

When he finally reached his room, he threw it open and smashed it shut behind him. All he needed was to be alone. He felt everything crashing down on him even worse than before. He felt the heavy weight of the Crown and country, quite literal pulling him down. There was suddenly the feeling of carrying a heavy backpack which made it harder to move, harder to breathe.

He still wondered how he had been able to not break down entirely in the presence of the court. The emptiness he had felt before was filled with pure sadness.

He had never been close to his mother. It was the exact opposite — Wilhelm had been quite close to his father. What brought them closer was neither he nor Ludvig were not born to be the center of attention. They were the ones who had to walk one step between the Queen and her firstborn, and they had liked that.

As a joke, they had called themselves the B-team or the unimportant ones.

Now they were the A-team. The important ones. The ones who rule.

Wilhelm did not even make it to his bed. Instead, he curled himself to a small ball on the floor. Maybe some magic portal would open and suck him inside.

But he knew he couldn’t hide forever. He had to leave to go to Stockholm. He was required to do so. His home country was now in his hands, he had to prove that he was capable to represent it. The idea of leading a country felt impossible now. His mother had been such a good, broadly respected and liked Queen, how was he supposed to live up to her standards if he wasn’t even able to live up to the ones of Erik? Erik had not even been able to fully fulfill her standards.

He put his headphones in his ears and increased the volume to the maximum. His thoughts were silenced by the blaring music.

Chapter Text

“Wille?”

Wilhelm didn’t hear Simon in the doorway. He was still laying on the floor with his eyes closed, and his headphones turned up to max.

“Wille what has happened?”

Simon shut the door behind him, to guarantee their privacy — just to be sure. He closed the two-step gap between him and his boyfriend and knelt down beside him. It was very obvious to him that his boyfriend had been crying excessively — the traces of his tears were more than visible. His hair was out of place and Simon could see he had been biting his fingers. But what confused him the most was the suit on the floor.

“Wille, please — “ he laid the back of his hand on his boyfriends cheek.

Wilhelm almost shot up, but then saw it was Simon in front of him and relaxed visibly. The curly haired boy did not mean to scare his boyfriend and felt bad for doing so.

Quickly, Wilhelm began fiddling with his phone to quiet the music, after doing so, he removed his headphones entirely.

“Sorry” he mumbled following that.

“Wille, what is it? What has happened? Is it your mother with her astronomical expectations again?” said Simon with a mocking undertone.

Wilhelm did not respond, but looked at the floor.

“Wille? You know that you can tell me everything, right?”

“Simme, she … she … I … I can’t.” Stuttered Wilhelm. He just did not have the power to voice what had happened. How was he supposed to give a speech when he couldn’t even tell his boyfriend what had happened? He couldn’t say it out loud because it still felt surreal. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. This was simply his worst nightmare. Maybe if he didn’t say it out loud, it wouldn’t be real, but that is not how it works. He couldn’t just ignore the fact that he had just become king.
He had not valued the life he had before Erik…, and even after he…

Wilhelm was now very sure about that. He had at least some sort of freedom, despite being the Center of attention most of the time. He was able to pick a sport he liked at least a bit, he was able to go to school quite carefree and even if his mother had rarely ever shown it —she had loved him. He had two parents who loved him. Now he had only one. But he had somebody else; Simon. Nobody was able to forbid him Simon in the position he was upholding now.

“Wille, what is it? Please tell me, please.” Simon begged. He almost breathed out the last words. Was there another scandal, another tape? Or was Wilhelm's mother tyrannizing him again? What could possibly have upset Wilhelm so much that he was laying crying on the floor?

After another set of sobs, Wilhelm could his voice again.

Well, voice was an overestimation, it may just a mere whisper: “Simme. There …. There was an accident. Mamma was on her way home … the weather was … was bad. She’s gone Simme… I’m …. I’m…” He did not need to finish for Simon to understand.

His hand shot up and covered his mouth, and he felt tears dwelling in his eyes, too. The Queen was gone, his Wille was no longer the crown prince. He got an unwanted, too early promotion. He knew what that meant for Wille, he understood the gravity of the situation. This was more serious than the tape, the speech or Willes club fight. He was speaking to the literal king of Sweden, his semi-official boyfriend.

“Oh Wille” — he pulled his boyfriend in a tight hug and began stroking this hair softly — “you know that I will support you if it is what you want and need. But I will leave if the country wants and needs me to do so. Whatever your decision is, I love you and will always support you. Whatever you need, I will do anything for you.”

Wilhelm began sobbing even more. How could Simon think he wanted to break up with him. “Stay with me” Wille choked out.

“‘kay, I will stay as long, and you want me to.”

“Forever.” Wilhelm wanted to stay with Simon in his room forever. He made his grief and burden of being king bearable. What was about to happen next? Being king already felt like an impossible task, and he had not even been king for more than an hour. How was he supposed to handle this burden soon?

There were so many unanswered questions which would never be answered.

Wilhelm moved one of his hands from Simon's back up into his curls. His soft angel hair had always had a comforting effect on him. Very gently, he grabbed it softly and twisted the brown curls gently around his fingers, just like he always did when kissing him. Literally, everything about Simon was perfect, even if he failed to see that right in this moment. Now, he only saw the destruction, the catastrophy.

“Then forever, Wille, please remember that I love you and will always —” he was interrupted by harsh knocking on the door followed by the voice of Jan-Olof: “is his majesty ready? He needs to sign the public statement before the news gasp on what happened. We also need to leave to his residence very soon.”

Simon pulled away from Wille and looked him deeply into the eyes. He was not ready, but he had to be. Simon saw that in his eyes. How he looked at him with a mix of desperation and pure sadness told more than a thousand words could ever.

Simon nodded: “I believe in you. I know you are capable of mastering this. If you need me, call me and if it gets really bad, I will come around. And I love you, that’s all.”

“I love you too.”

“Your majesty?” Called Jan-Olof again.

“I’m getting ready. Give me five minutes.” His voice was still shaky.

He moved further away from Simon and began putting in the suit. As he was finished, he looked in the floor length mirror. To be honest, he looked like an utter mess. Simon stood, walked over and corrected the position of this black tie, while looking at him with a sad smile. After he did that, he went on to put his hair back in place as good as he could.

“Now you are ready to go, Wille.”

Wilhelm looked down at his feet, nodded and mumbled: “thank you. What would I do without you?”
“You are the high society, nepobaby, Wille, you probably have servants to fix it.”

“Not one is as good as you.”

Simon rolled his eyes: “I’m uncertain if it is one, but I take it was a compliment.”

“It is.”

“Your majesty, we need to leave!” Called Jan-Olof again. Wilhelm rolled his eyes, he was seriously considering firing him. If his mother had not loved his work, it would have probably been the first official act he would have performed, but he could not just fire him. He was good at what he was doing, at least had his mother said so. Maybe, they will somehow be able to form a well-working team.

“Please don’t tell anyone yet. The public needs to learn it from an official announcement, okay?”

Tiptoeing, Simon kissed Wilhelm in the cheek one last time: “I won’t. I love you. Now go out there and stun the world, I know you are capable of doing so. Together, we go through everything, we are stronger than the doubters, especially you, Wille.”

Wilhelm looked down but eventually nodded.

After a deep breath, he opened the door enough to be able to slip through but to keep Simon unnoticed. He shut the door behind him without locking it, so Simon could leave unnoticed later on.
Now he was nearly alone by himself again, only with his father to support him. He was greeted by the relived voice from Jan-Olof saying: “finally his majesty is ready to go, please sign this. It is the announcement we just prepared. If his majesty wants to read it first, he shall feel free to do so.”

Wilhelm didn’t care. He quickly grabbed the board the sheet of paper was attached too, examined it quickly without really reading it, all while continuing to work. Annoyed, he signed it on the assigned spot with ‘Wilhelm I’ and almost threw it back to his assistant.

“Is his majesty satisfied with this press release?”

“How am I supposed to be satisfied in a situation like this, go on, tell me. Because I’m really searching for a positive thing that had happened today.” He swallowed down, telling him about kissing Simon was the only good thing in his life. Jan-Olof did not answer, neither did his father, who was walking beside them. He solely showed his support with the hand on his son's back once again.
They made it to the car without being seen by anyone else, luckily. Wilhelm would have not been in the mood to endure their stares, whispering and maybe even cameras being pointed at him. Car was an understatement; there were several cars waiting for him, it could be described as a convoy, a parade to honor the new king. His mother had never travelled with that amount of protection. There was always one cat following her to carry her guards, but that was it, there had never been more.
It was scary and intimidating to see the royal standard on the top of his limousine.
There it was — the ultimate sign of accession.

Chapter Text

The drive was mostly quiet, nobody dared to say a word, until they were almost in Stockholm.
Wilhelm knew that Jan-Olof had published several statements during the car ride, he sat beside him, so Wilhelm had been able to read what he wrote on his laptop. Apparently, the minute of silence would take place exactly two minutes before or his father would give the speech in the evening. They had not finalized the decision of who would be giving the speech, yet, but Wilhelm wanted his father to address the nation.

He had not found the courage to unlock his muted phone right now. The fear about the possible horrible and hateful reactions of the public was too enormous. After his Coming-out-Speech, the reactions had been mostly positive, but there had also been plenty of hateful comments. He had to temporarily delete his Instagram and Twitter, because of the sheer amount of mixed responses, which were affecting his mental health quite a lot. Simon had to delete his social media, too. He had been the victim of the majority of scrutiny because the public twisted their relationship in a way to make him look like a gold digger.

And that scandal was tiny, compared to what was happening now. Even without checking his phone, he knew what was happening online. He wished that everyone would focus on his mothers' legacy apart from him, but he knew that this was simply not happening. Wilhelm knew how the tabloids worked.

By the amount of how often their car was already photographed by people on the streets, he knew that there were most likely several lurid pictures of him and his father in every single platform or tabloid possible. He could see the bright camera flashes through the tinted Windows. Whenever he could, he covered up his face with his hand to not show them the emotions they wanted to see, even if they probably had already photographed those. He wished Simon were here to support him. Only holding his hand would make everything bearable.

“Is his majesty aware that he is not the youngest Swedish monarch, in Swedish history?”

“Excuse me?” Wilhelm had not been listening to his assistant.

“Is his majesty aware that he is not the youngest Swedish monarch ever? Yes, he is the youngest Bernadotte to ever rule, but not the youngest King. Charles XII was only fifteen when he succeeded his father Charles XI. He was a successful monarch, despite his age.” Tried Jan-Olof to cheer him up with this historic fact. It did not cheer him up the slightest bit, but Wilhelm acknowledged that with his brief answer: “impressive.”

“It indeed is. He was a good, mighty King who won battles, despite his young age.”

Wilhelm wondered his he had not understood the irony on his voice. He knew it was meant in a nice way, so Wilhelm did not feel as left alone as he was, but if didn’t help.

“Impressive” he repeated “I am not going to start a war, we are not living in the medieval century. I need to finish school, still have to learn a lot, and you know very well that I barely have any ‘power’. My father still takes the lead. As you might know or have noticed, I have not been prepared for this day.”

“Sure, we don’t want a war to take place either, but what I am trying to say is that his highness can learn from a historic king and use him as a role model. His majesty will finish School, I understand that, but there are still certain duties he has to fulfill, and he indeed obtains power to some degree. He has to remember that he represented Sweden.”

“Could you please stop talking to me in third person? It is A) annoying and B) confusing.”

“His majesty knows that it is the protocol. We have done it since —“

“Just stop it, Jan-Olof.”

By the sheer amount of flashing cameras, Wilhelm could tell they were about to enter the palace grounds. He tried to maintain a neutral expression. Even through the thick doors, he could hear the noise of the questions and his name being screamed.

“There will be a photo appointment later, in addition to the already said appointments.”

“Whatever.”

Everything that followed went almost completely silent. They were greeted by the entire staff, which went on to recognize him as the new king and expressed their condolences. Luckily, nobody expected him to know their names.

Both Wilhelm and Ludvig had been handed the script for the speech later this evening.

It felt wrong.

The words were not theirs.

They did not represent their true feelings and fears.

It was something written by almost strangers to mimic their feelings and wrap them in nice words.

More nicely than the King or his father could ever say them. If they were even able to say them.

At the moment it did not look like they would.

The King had disappeared.

Wilhelm had ran off.

He had been sitting with his staff and father in one of the palaces' office, trying to give the speech in front of them for practice. Just as everyone expected, including the King himself, he botched nearly every sentence and in the moment he made it to the section in which he had to talk about his childhood with his mother and Erik, the emotions were set free again. The connection of his grief for his brother and his mother was just too much. He had thrown the cue cards on the floor and hurried out of the room, leaving a very stunned PR team. Nobody had bothered to run or call after him, but they had expected him to return.

He did not.

After more than fifteen moments, everyone got more and more nervous. It was almost like the air was electrified by the tension they were feeling. Everyone looked nervous at their watches, then to the door, followed by looking at their watches again.

“Can the palace guards please inform us, where did his majesty go? If he went to his room, they would have noticed.” Jan-Olof said. A guard left the room, to ask where Wilhelm went. They were shocked by where he went, or rather where he did not go.

Somehow, he had managed to slip out of the palace. Nobody knew how he was able to do so, it was a major security concern if people could just come in and leave the room as they want to. They hoped he had just hidden somewhere very well, but after searching through every single room, it was more than obvious that he was not there anymore.

“The speech is scheduled for in two hours, his majesty the king needs to be present, and he needs to get ready quite soon.”

The usually quiet and composed Ludvig thought he was going to punch Jan-Olof. How could the interview be the only thing he cared about when Wilhelm literally disappeared? Once again he showed him that he only cared about the public appearance, just Ludvig had already suspected in the past. Ludvig couldn’t control himself anymore, he shot up from his chair and slammed his fist on the table.
“Are you serious? Don’t you care about Wilhelm's wellbeing? At first, you want to force him to give that speech, and now you wonder why he ran off. Maybe you are the reason why he disappeared. I would have given the speech, but you did not let me. You know it would be better for everyone if I do so. However, I am not going to give a speech when Wilhelm has not appeared until then. We will focus on finding him!”

Jan-Olof looked at him like he wanted to say something against that, but he chose to stay quiet.

“You will go and ask the palace guards if he left grounds. If he did not, inform the police and arrange the grounds being searched. We need to find him.”

Chapter Text

Later that school day, they were informed that the Queen passed away. Everyone was beyond shocked, not only because their monarch passed away, but also because they knew what it meant for their classmate Wilhelm. The students, including Simon and Felice, all tried to contact Wilhelm, but he did not respond to a single message. Not they expected responses, but trying did not hurt.

Not very long after the devastating news, the parliament declared the day as a national day of grief, thus every school and public space was forced to shut down. They were released for at least three days without being given homework. Most students would have been happy about the longer weekend, but nobody was able to be happy about that. Everyone’s thoughts and prayers were directed to Wilhelm and his well-being, but also the grief of having lost their Queen. She had been quite popular. Her father had been widely disliked for being traditionalist and over traditional. Kristina's reign had changed that radically, she adjusted the monarchy to a modern and progressive institution. Under her rule, the firstborn was set to take over the throne, no matter if male or female. She also forced Riksdag to allow marriage with foreign commoners, only to marry a noble man herself. Lately, she had been working on allowing same-sex marriage, too, but that law was yet to be passed. It was planned to be passed next week, so there was not one hurdle in Wilhelm's and Simon's relationship, but this was most likely to be postponed. Pretty much any young person was a supporter of their Queen for everything we did. If they only knew how bad of a parent she was.

She will be dearly missed by the citizens of her country.

The atmosphere was very dark and gloomy, there were barely any conversations in the corridors and when someone talked, it was barely a whisper. They were allowed to enter the chapel to pray for Wilhelm and the Queen. It almost felt like the planet had stopped moving, it almost felt like every clock had stopped ticking.

Simon couldn’t stay at Hillerska any longer. He called his mother, who was luckily able to pick him up from school. Both Sara and Felice decided to stay at Hillerska.

What is happening in Drottningholm?

The headline that greeted him as soon as he switched on the TV. He increased the volume.

‘The news is absolutely devastating, the entire country is in shock. Just like the death of his highness the crown prince, it was so unexpected, so sudden. When does the period of horror finally end for the royals? The entire country is in grief of her majesty Queen Kristina. A mother, a wife, and a head of state was so suddenly ripped out of life, leaving behind her youngest son, Wilhelm, and her husband Ludvig. As we speak, they arrived at Drottningholm palace around two hours ago. We are yet to be informed who will be accessing the throne. Wilhelm, the heir apparent, is still a child. It is widely doubted that he will succeed his mother — yet. It is being spectaculated, that he will succeed his mother once he turned eighteen. However, Wilhelm signed the first official statement, confirming the Queen's death with King Wilhelm the first. There are nearly no other options of possible successors, especially after the arrest of Baron August of Horn of Årnäs earlier this month, due to the possession and use of forbidden drugs and the publication of the sex tape, featuring two minors. Every other possible successor has either married into a foreign royal family, has died or abdicated. Experts say that the king's father, Duke Ludvig may be stepping in his son's position until he turns eighteen, but that is also highly unlikely. The duke is neither a native citizen of Sweden, nor is he listed in the legal line of succession.’

Simon turned the volume down when his mother re entered the room: “have you heard anything from Wille, that poor boy?”

He shook his head: “no, I haven’t. He has not responded to any of my messages. I am a bit worried about him, but I know his father supports him. Ludvig was nice to me the one time I visited them in Stockholm.”
She nodded and swiped sadly: “please tell me when he responds. And remember that if you need somebody to talk, come to me. Together, we will get through this, please tell that Wille, too.”

“You have his phone number, too, mama.”

“I already texted him, but I want you to do so, too. Just that he knows. Wait, what is that?” Lind picked up the remote and increased the volume.

‘New pictures of Drottningholm palace are blowing up the internet.’

The screen switched from the two news anchors to Drottningholm palace, but now what Simon saw terrified him. There were several police cars on the bridge that connected the palace to the city. It looked like they were rushing to the palace.

‘As we are speaking, new pictures emerged from Drottningholm palace. Now the entire country is asking what is happening at Drottningholm palace? I think everyone, including us, is holding their breaths right now. We have never seen pictures like that. We know that the heir apparent and the duke are currently at their residence just outside of Stockholm. The speech of either the heir to the throne or his father is supposed to —“ she was interrupted by somebody saying something backstage.

‘The information of the speech being cancelled just came in right now. We are even more concerned about the wellbeing of our beloved prince and duke after this information. Tomorrow morning the new head of state was supposed to be named, but questioned emerge if this is actually going to happen, considering what is happening now…’

Simon couldn’t keep listening.

Why? He asked himself.

Why were all the bad things happening to his Wille?

Why couldn’t he just live a peaceful, happy, carefree life, just like he wished?

That was all Simon wished for.

Simon picked up his phone again and tried to call Wilhelm. Just as expected, he didn’t pick up. The call went straight to voicemail, so he quickly left the message that he was worried and asked Wilhelm to call him back immediately.

“There are speculations that either the prince is missing or there was an intruder to the palace.” said Linda while turning her phone around for Simon to see.

The curly haired boy did not know what was worse: Wilhelm disappearing or him being treated by a potential dangerous stranger. Both thoughts terrified him.

He tried to call Wilhelm again, it ended like it did the first time, he did not pick up, so he decided to text Ludvig. The duke had given his phone number when Simon had visited them at their Palace. He had asked him to only use it in a case of an emergency, but this was one, wasn’t it? Simon asked him way too polite what was happening, but he did not get a response either. Just like Wilhelm or Malin, he did not answer.
Simon kept watching TV. There were no new and eventually, he fell into a restless sleep.

Chapter Text

The TV was until on and on mute when Simon was ripped out of his sleep by somebody knocking on the door. He shot up and looked at his phone's display; 23:49 it read. Almost midnight. Who the hell knocks on someone’s door that late at night? Does he need to wake his mother to open the door? What if it was an intruder, or again the press? It wouldn’t be the first time they knocked on his door at an ungodly hour.

Slowly he got up and began walking to the door. He decided against waking his mother, it was probably nothing. Simon knew the kids from his neighborhood, they liked playing pranks. But what if it weren’t just kids?

Shaking in fear, he placed his hand on the doorknob, hesitated for a brief moment, but decided to open the door. What he saw, behind it, was more than surprising. Wilhelm. With a white horse.
How the hell had he managed to come here with a horse? Why had he come here with a horse?
It almost looked like in a fairy tale; his perfect prince (king) with a Snow-White horse, enlightened by the moon. For a brief second he thought it was imaginary, Wilhelm didn’t look real. His mind was probably playing tricks on him. But Wille was indeed real and he was definitely standing right in front of him now.

His boyfriend let the reigns fall down, closed the steps between them and pulled him in a tight hug, almost sending both of them to the floor. Simon felt Wilhelm’s tears staining his purple hoodie. Wilhelm had bent down to bury his face in Simon's shirt. He had never done that before. Never.
Simon began patting Wille’s back.

“Mi amor, what are you doing here? Does your father know that you are here? Wille, has something happened?” Simon immediately knew it was stupid to as his boyfriend is something had happened. Of course, he knew what happened.

Wilhelm's response came immediately, his sobbing grew more violent.

“Come, mi amor, let’s get you inside first. Surely, you don’t want any paparazzi pictures of yourself.” He felt the Monarch nodding, with his head still buried in Simon's hoodie, but then, he freed himself from Simon and pointed at his white horse.

“Oh, right. If you bring it inside, mom is going to kill me for sure. You can tie its reigns to the metal bar over there. I know it’s far from ideal, but it’s better than nothing.”

“‘kay” Wilhelm proceeded to tie his horse to the bar. Simon kept a close eye on him the entire time, watching every step closely.

Then Wille walked over and followed him inside. As soon as the door was shut, a mixture of confusion, worry, but also fear filled him. He saw the expression on Willes face, it wasn’t good. He had looked bad when he saw him the last time, but now it was different. Wilhelm's eyes were so read that one might believe he took drugs.

Images of the night Simon found Wille on the football field began appearing in his head again. Was history repeating itself today? When Wilhelm called him that fateful night, it had been only two weeks after Eriks death. Wilhelm seemed to be in a very similar state right now.

“Wille, what have you taken?” spoke Simon with a concerned voice. He was trying to show Wille that he was not angry the slightest bit. He was worried, but hit angry, even if Wilhelm had taken something.

“Nothing Simme, trust me” sobbed his boyfriend “I drank a glass of wine or two, but that’s it. No drugs this time, I promise.”

“You don’t need to lie, Wille. I can smell the alcohol from two meters distance, but I am not mad at you. You definitely drank more than two classes of wine. You are not alone, Wille, there is no need to get drunk and run away, it’s not a solution. Do they know you left.”

The only answer Simon got was when the king shaking his head a slight bit. Simon saw the instant regret of doing so, he began to stagger a bit.

“Whatever, come on, let’s get you seated. You look like you are about to fall over.” He went on with guiding his boyfriend to the couch he just slept in minutes ago. Wilhelm and Simon both let themselves fall down into the cushioned seating area. At first, nobody talked. Simon and Wilhelm sat beside each other, mutely staring at the TV. There was still live coverage of the current situation, just now, the TV reporters were focused on commenting about the upcoming funeral. That was what the subtitles were suggesting.

As Simon turned his head slightly to have a better look at Wille, he saw a small tear glimmering in the light of the TV. It broke his heart. As if Wille had not cried already far too much today. He moved his hand but by bit closer to his boyfriends, just like he had done the infamous horror movie night at Hillerska.

Eventually, their pinky fingers intertwined.

“You came hid with your horse?”

“Hm”

“All the way? How did you know where to ride?”

“I just did”

“You just remembered a 40 km route?”

“Hm”

“That is honestly impressive, Wille.” Said Simon in a slightly niching tone. He just could not believe Wille remembered the route that well, that was definitely important. Wilhelm barely remembered all of their classmates names.

“No Google Maps?”

“Left my phone in my room.”

“Ok…… But why, Wille? Your father was there to talk. You could have called me. I guess he, and everyone else, is worried about now you. Like a lot. I guess they are searching every centimeter of Sweden for you now.”

Wilhelm shrug his shoulders.

“What if something had happened, if you fell off your horse. Or if you got lost. Or kidnapped. Or assassinated. Wille, do you realise how dangerous this was?”

“You sound just like her…” cried Wille out.

Simons' heart clenched when he heard that sound: “sorry, Wille, it wasn’t meant like that. I just wanted to show you how worried I was. And still am. Pleas, never do that again.” Simon felt bad for not showing Wilhelm that he appreciated him coming to him, but his worry overtook his gratitude for being so important to his boyfriend: “Come on, come here.”

Instead of telling him how much he loved him with words, he pulled Wille in a hug. The bigger one gratefully laid own on his lap, immediately closing his eyes, almost pretending to be asleep. That was his newly acquired way of blocking out everything bad. No doubt, it was much better than any other coping mechanism.

Simon began playing with Willes hair to calm him down. Just after he began doing so, he felt his boyfriend relaxing his tense shoulders and leaning into his hand. Wilhelm absolutely loved it when Simon did so. It was one of his various ways of showing love and affection. His royal boyfriend preferred physical contact to show love and affection over words.

It took some time for Simon to be certain Wilhelm was actually asleep. As soon as he was sure of that, he picked up his phone and sent Ludvig a quick text: ‘Wille came here. Is absolutely done with everything and definitely needs rest. Had at least a bottle of wine. Came here with a horse and said he didn’t bring his phone. Don’t worry, he is safe with me. Please give him two or three hours of sleep, he looked like he needs it.’

Chapter Text

Warm, golden rays of sun flooded the room, landing directly on Simon's face. Without opening his eyes, he could tell that today’s weather was one of Sweden's beyond perfect early summer days. Mild temperatures, no rain and long hours of light, ideal for a Picknick. But that was not going to happen, not after recent events.

It took him two or three blinks to get used to the overwhelming brightness of the living room. As he was able to see more clearly, he immediately looked right into Wilhelm's face. The distance between them was tiny, he could feel every calm breath of his Wille on his face too. It was good to see that he finally found rest. Willes face was as beautiful as always, but Simon was until able to see a small hint of distress. It made his heart clench that Wille was not even fully rested when he was sleeping.

He almost started to scream as he spotted a tall, black figure in the other side of the room, sitting in an armchair. Ludvig. Wilhelm's father. He looked him straight in his eyes. Simon already expected him to be angry, maybe get loud once Wilhelm wakes up, but he did not look angry in the slightest bit. He looked pretty much the opposite of angry: relieved, sad and foremost tired. It hinted that he had been up all night.

As he saw that Simon was awake, he waved at him with a flick of his hand. Simon responded, doing the same thing. Without saying a single word, they agreed through pure facial expression that they would let Wilhelm get the rest he needed, they decided against waking him up.

But it didn’t happen as they agreed.

Mere minutes later, the door flew open, followed by Jan-Olof and Minou stepping inside. Without looking what was going on in the room, the white haired man began speaking almost instantly: “your highness, we need to leave very soon. It will not be long until we need to be at the train station, so plea—“

In the middle of the sentence, his eyes landed on Wilhelm. He was not sleeping anymore. After his assistants entered the room, he almost fell off the sofa. He had been ripped out of his sleep, Simon could see the shock and surprise written all over face.

“Sorry, your majesty —“ he bowed, minimum curtsied as Wilhelm's eyes landed on them “ — we did not intend to wake his majesty up, but if he is awake, he should consider changing into the suit we brought along and get ready for the arrival of the coffin.” Without waiting for a response he, he placed the suit in the coffee table, bowed again and left the room.

Wilhelm was frozen in place.

Ludvig got up and began walking over to him: “oh, caused quite a bit of chaos, gubben. We were searching for you the entire night. Just around one or two am, I saw the message Simon sent me. I demanded to come here almost instantly. And I gave that dreadful speech. The public will never know what has happened, gubben, we managed to cover it up, but please, don’t do something like that ever again. Running away isn’t a solution, talking is. I was so worried about you. I thought you … you were gone too. And we will need to proclaim you as king soon, too. And we need to talk about the plans for the next days, too. There are some made by HER… but maybe you want to adjust some things. Of course, we have to mind the protocol. And we have to talk about the title of crown prince, too. There is quite a lot on your plate, and I am deeply sorry for that.

Wilhelm, who was barely awake at that point, just looked at him, without moving a centimeter. It took Ludvig a second: ‘ok?’ to get a nod as a response.

“Good, son. Take your time to get ready, everything evolves around you now, you are not too late, the others are just too early.” Ludvigs small joke did not evoke the reaction he intended to get. Wilhelm didn’t even have a hint of smile on his face.

“Ok, son. As I said, take your time.” Ludvig gave Wilhelm's back a pat and left the room, too, leaving Simon and his son behind.

Wilhelm was still frozen into place.

“You should honestly consider firing that assistant of yours. He's acting as if he’s your boss.”
Wilhelm looked him straight into his face, with the same, sad expression that he had since yesterday in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. If you like him, keep him.”

“I don’t like him. I don’t like anyone of them. They boss me around all and every day since I am able to walk and talk. They’re all the same. We are just their props, like a piece of decorations. They are responsible for making us look flawless all the time because that is what we are expected to look like. Perfect. I am not perfect. I don’t like them, but we cannot live without them, they protect us.”

“Oh Wille—“ he took his boyfriends hands in his “—perfection doesn’t exist. You will always be the perfect boyfriend for me. I don’t care about what you look like, what you wear or how you behave. You Wille, you—“ he was interrupted by the young king.

“They care, Simme, perfect is all we are about. We are supposed to be living a fairy tale life. No emotions, no messing up, no personality, no individualism.” Wilhelm suddenly changed from being quiet and sad to somehow passionate. It was almost like it burst out of him after a long time holding back.

“I don’t know if you know, Wille, but the common people don’t care that much about the royal family.”

“They care if I mess up. Whenever they can slap my face under a scandalous headline, they care. I know that very well. Whenever we behave human, the public perceives us messed up or out of control. It doesn’t matter if the situation was provoked. Do you remember Erik when flipped off the paparazzi? Before that, they circled us when walking around at the Christmas market. One of them pushed me aside while trying to get the best shot of Erik. I sprained my arm because of that. Nobody cared. They only cared about the scandalous pictures of Erik. Or do you remember me in that police car? The officers saved me; somebody attacked me when I sneaked out, the officers stepped in just in time. They twisted it so much that everyone suddenly claimed that I had been arrested by them. I know Jan-Olof and the team command me around even if I outrank them, but they try to protect me from the scrutiny. When I am flawless, the tabloids don’t bully me. I don’t like them, but I appreciate their presence. That is why I do what they ask me to do. It took me very long until I realized that they protect me. And for years I did what I want, trying to rebel against them. I only hurt myself with doing that. Only now I am realizing that.”
Simons' mouth was wide opened from the shock of what he had just heard. Was everything really that messed up? He knew it was bad, but really that bad?
He had never thought about them protecting Wille.

“Sorry. That was a bit harsh.” Said Wille and got up. Simon watched him pulling off his clothes and putting on the suit his staff had brought him. It wasn’t the same he wore yesterday. As Wilhelm buttoned up the last button of his dress shirt, he turned to Simon and asked: “do you own a suit? Or an entirely black outfit?”

Stunned Simon stuttered: “well, yes, I guess? Why?”

“You are going to join me.” — Wilhelm noticed the commanding tone and quickly added — “only if you want. I would like to have you around me. I need you. I need you very much. Please come with me.”
Still stunned, Simon answered: “If that is what you really want, I will join you. But only if you promise me to keep me out of the press.”

“We will try our best.”

“Good. Then, I guess, I will have to find something fancy to change into and tell mum I’m leaving. She must’ve noticed your entourage by now.”

Simon got up and left Wilhelm alone in the living room.

He could barely believe that he had just been asked to join Wille. Yes, they were more or less an official couple, but it still felt surreal. He was not sure yet if he liked to join Wilhelm. All he wanted was to support Wilhelm from behind the curtains, never had he desired to be in the center of attention. But neither did Wille. Wille would, just like Simon, prefer to lay in bed and grief in private, not to hold his emotions at bay for the sake of appearance.

Chapter Text

“… His majesty is not required to give a speech, but it is highly advised after his absence of yesterdays televised speech. If he likes, he can give a brief speech with the matching flash cards prepared, but of course, he can choose his words spontaneously, too. However, we would like him to avoid any controversial topics, like his relationship. We would like you, your majesty, to solely focus on her majesty the late queen Kristina. But before all of this is going to happen, we are hurrying to Stockholm palace, to meet the accession council and the government's cabinet. It is likely that there might be a bit of backlash die to his majesty’s age, but we will make his majesty’s accession to the throne work. Later that evening, there will be an audience with the cabinet, but in between those governmental meetings, is the most important arrangement. The arrival of the coffin, including the small speech, of that is what he wants. We need to focus on that.”

It amazed Simon with how little of emotions Jan-Olof was speaking. Was he able to just switch them off, like he had no relationship to the Queen ever. He had been her advisor and from what he had heard and seen, Jan-Olof had been the closest advisor to the Queen. The elderly man handed Wilhelm an open folder with the same stoic face, he had one since he just met them in Bjärstad.

To Simon's surprise, Wilhelm actually fulled the folder towards him and began studying it. Even though Simon sat beside him, he couldn’t gasp on why was written there.

Wilhelm's finger travelled over the paper, until it stopped. Something had caught his attention.
Wilhelm looked up at his advisor, then down again — as if he wanted to be sure about what ha just read, then he looked up again — “it says I don’t need to be present. Only the ministers and the prime minister need to be there, the heir is optional. Here, read it yourself” — he pointed at a small paragraph in the middle of the sheet. The royal advisor looked at him in disbelief and eventually reached for the folder.

One could have heard a needle dropping to the floor as he checked and the double-checked and triple-checked the document.

“Well, it reads it is highly advised—“ Jan-Olof was interrupted by Wilhelm: “advised, not highly advised. If I don’t need to be present, I won’t. It’s already too much, too quickly. I had no time to prepare. I need time to prepare. You need to prepare me, not throw me into the public when it’s not needed.”

“Your majesty —“ he was interrupted once again by Wilhelm.

“I’m not changing my decision.”

In the moment, Simon felt incredibly proud of Wilhelm. He had rarely seen him standing up for himself that diplomatically and calm, yet dominant. His sturdy voice was almost intimidating him. He sounded almost as demanding as August, just without the all too present arrogance.

Jan-Olof swallowed heavily, then sighed: “whatever his majesty wishes to do.” After a minute of awkward silence, he continued: “if his majesty flips to the next page, he will find the names of the cabinet members. He should already know them, but it is beneficial if he knows them by heart. As I said, we will have to tackle a bit of backlash, especially due to his age and the most recent events. Of course, we will speak in favor of you, your majesty, accessing the throne. We will argument in favor of the birthright and tradition.”
Wilhelm looked up from the page, explaining each of the members function, name and person information. He would not be able to remember them, anyway.

“What if that is not what I want. Nobody asked me to take that role that early. I was not even allowed to out myself when I wanted to because I wasn’t 18. Now I’m asked to rule a country through representing it. I attended two meetings. Two. Not a single one more. How do you want me to do my by-birthright-assigned-work?”

Jan-Olof looked at him like he was fighting the urge to sigh again: “nobody ever asked to be a monarch. Being born royal is a privilege, not a punishment. —”

Wilhelm could not keep listening to him. It felt like his ears suddenly shut close. He felt like he had been hit in the gut. His vision got blurred, his ears were ringing.

‘You are the crown prince. It’s a privilege, not a punishment.’

That was what is mother had said a while back.

He remembered it like it was yesterday.

It almost felt like he was thrown back in time.

‘You are the crown prince. It’s a privilege, not a punishment.’

The phrase replayed in his head again and again.

‘Nobody ever asked for this’ followed close by.

Suddenly, he felt thrown back in time. He was in the same car. He sat in the exact same spot. Simon sat, where once his mother sat. They were driving to a palace once again. Not the same one, but a different one. Somebody he loved at dies recently and his duties still weighed too heavy.

The similarities were undeniable. The same situation, just half a year later.

“Wilhelm?” He heard through the ringing.

“Wilhelm. What is, mi amor?” It was Simon. He didn’t know why, but he felt like it could have been his mother. She wasn’t there. She would never be there again.

A hand landed on top of his thigh.

“Wilhelm, please talk to me. You are scaring me a bit.”

“Sorry, Simme. —” Mumbled Wilhelm “ —I just remembered something—” he looked up at Jan-Olof and intertwined his hand with Simon's “— nobody ever asked for it, that is true, but I can choose what I am going to do with my birthright. I am my own boss and can say I’m not ready. You cannot force me to succeed m— her.”

Wilhelm could see the white haired man almost getting into a rage, but before he began speaking, the duke stepped in: “what I think Wilhelm is trying to say is, that he needs more time to prepare, and I agree with him. He is only seventeen, he is still a minor. I can understand that he does not feel ready. He has never been introduced to the position as much as Erik was, but that is nothing we could not manage to do. Together, we need to prepare Wilhelm for his role before he takes over the throne.”

One again, his father had managed to be the mediator between him and the court. Beside his passiveness, forced onto him by if his wife’s status, he had managed to fulfill most of his children’s wishes. He had been the one who made it possible for Wilhelm to attend a public school, but he knew, very well, that he could not talk back to his wife once people were around. He could proudly say that he had usually been the one who made a common ground possible. Today was not different; he understood both Wilhelm's and the court's arguments and concerns.

“Of course we want to prepare his majesty well, that is why we are her. We only want the best for the monarchy.”

“And I want the best for my son. That is why I decided that if he does not want to succeed now, he will as soon as he feels ready to. He may decide about his future.”

Jan-Olof did not even dare to answer. He was too afraid of the backlash me might receive if he decided to speak up again.

The rest of the car ride, they sat in silence.

After their arrival, Wilhelm was immediately taken to one of the spacious conference rooms. At least they had chosen one that has seldomly been used by the late Queen before. Ludvig had been the one picking the location, carefully avoiding anything that could upset his son. What was about to go down in the room was already going to be controversial and confrontational enough, he didn’t need to cause any more harm by resurfacing memories.

The council and cabinet were already waiting for them. Every single one of them immediately shot up from their chairs and looked at the young monarch and his entourage that stood in the door frame.

Wilhelm stopped dead tracks. He saw and felt everyone's gaze on him. Some of them looked at him with a pitying expression, others with a sad one, but also one or two with a more than judging look on their faces.

They did not want him to be the one to take over the family’s head. They would have preferred Erik, Wilhelm could almost read that from their faces.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. It belonged to his father, who was slowly and discretely encouraging to walk to his assigned spot. He didn’t need anyone to instruct him where to sit, of course, from now on, it his spot was the head of the table.

He walked over to his spot and sat down, which his father on one side and Jan-Olof on the other. As soon as he did that, everyone did the same, but without breaking eye contact. Not eye-contact, more like staring. They expected his to start speaking.

“Good morning, lady’s and gentlemen, that you for gathering here today with me.” Luckily, he memorized the entire phases Jan-Olof had given him.

Just as the protocol acquired, the head of council responded to all the: “good morning, your royal highness, thank you for welcoming us for today's sorrowful but detrimental gathering. We appreciate that with great gratitude. Firstly, we want to express our deepest grief and condolences for this horrible loss of not only a wonderful Queen, but also a mother and wife.”

“Please, address his majesty the king with his proper title of king”, Jan-Olof said, without waiting for a response from Wilhelm.

The council’s head frowned: “that is precisely what we need to talk about. We doubt that his highness is, at least at the moment, suited for his given role as king. Especially due to his age and the current position he is. We came to the conclusion that we are not supporting a reign of his highness the crown prince until he is at least eighteen, if not even until after his military service.”

“Unbelievable” — spitted an outraged Jan-Olof out — “his majesty the king is going to devote his entire life to this country, and now you want to take it away from him. Sure, he has not been prepared as much as his royal highness the late crown prince Erik, but he has been prepared and will be prepared by the court. That is why we are here. And does it really make a difference if he is seventeen and a half or eighteen? In our opinion, it doesn’t. By the way, who are you considering instead of his majesty king Wilhelm the first?”
A different council member spoke up: “we consider baron August Horn of Årnäs. He is eligible for the role.”
Wilhelm couldn’t help by immediately go against that: “August? Are you serious? He is in jail, and he will be for quite a while. He was sentenced to six years and you, everyone in this room, decided to strip his titles away. You want to reverse that now, or what? He is older than me, but he has not been prepared in the slightest bit. Not one single, tiny bit. You are always so concerned about public opinions, how do you think it would look when you make him the king? Despite my age, I am suited way better than him, you have to admit that.”

Wilhelm would fight to the last second if the choice was either him or August. August was hover going to succeed his mother instead of him, he just could not let that happen. The idea of being forced behind August gave him the confidence he needed in this debate. He just couldn’t lose this.

During speaking up, he shot up from his chair, almost knocking over the heavy chair he used to be sitting on. Everyone in the room looked surprised, nobody expected the young, nervous boy to raise his voice against the authorities. Yes, he had risen his voice against his parents and court, but doing it against the government required an entire different level of confidence.

‘Just pretend to be somebody else, it’s not that hard’ had Erik said. It used to be hard, but the stakes were different now. It didn’t feel hard at all.

Nobody answered, and the silence began to be intimidating, so Wilhelm used his opportunity to make the next power move: “ you are always so concerned about the public approval, not only the one of my family, but also yours. Remember, I was assigned my role by birth, even though I never asked for it, I will uphold it for the rest of my life. You have to get re-elected every few years, I don’t. How do you think the public will react to a person who spreadded child pornography to be their head of state, chosen by you? I don’t think that well, so please consider that as well. I don’t mind waiting until I’m eighteen to be officially proclaimed to be king, but I mind stepping aside to let a criminal be the king. A criminal who harmed me and my boyfriend personally. I hope you consider that in your decision.” He had to restrain himself together to not raise too much.

The silence that followed was even louder.

Wilhelm sat down again, waiting for somebody to respond. He looked at his father, then at Jan-Olof both couldn’t help but have a tiny grin on their faces. If one did not know them, they wouldn’t have seen it, but Wilhelm did. They were both incredibly proud of him. A year ago, nobody would have believed him to actually do what he just had done.

The council still had not reacted, apart from with shocked and embarrassed looks.

“I think my son is right. We cannot hand the prestige of our royal family and institution to a known-to-be criminal. And what August had done was nothing minor. If it was just the drug possession, we could have negotiated him out of this, but the evidence of him publishing the tape is simply too heavy. And I agree with Wilhelm only stepping up to be king once he is eighteen. However, this position should be left open for him. We don’t need somebody to take his spot until his days on earth, decide that he is ready to take over the country. It is absolutely ridiculous that you want to deny him his rights, which he was born with.”
“But your highness pm, he is only seventeen and a half, he is still a chi—?”

“A child. Maybe, but do you think this will change in less than five months? I don’t think so, so why don’t him his position?” Interrupted duke Ludvig the speaker.

“He is still attending Hiller—“

The duke interrupted the speaker of council again: “Hillerska, yes he is. That will not change once he is eighteen, am I right? We can figure this out — perhaps part-time home tutored and king, and part-time regular Hillerska student. I think that sounds good and easy to make it working.”

“I agree with my father. That is a good idea, actually. I would work in favor of all of us.”

Suddenly minou appeared behind Jan-Olof and handed him her iPad. The elderly man inspected in closely until speaking up: “the results of a poll from SVT just came in; 71 percent want his majesty king Wilhelm to succeed her late majesty the Queen, 28 percent want his highness the duke to take the role over until Wilhelm is eighteen and less than one percent want August go be the successor. I think the results speak for itself.

The speaker looked defeated, there was nothing he could bring up against Wilhelm — now. His public outing had been perceived very well by the public, his approval rate was higher than ever, now the public wanted him to take over the throne and there was no other choice than Wilhelm or a convicted criminal.

“But it is impossible for him to take over at that age. Any person able to think straight knows that. It is absolutely impose for him to rule a country.”

“His majesty’s main function is to represent the country well, and I think he has executed that quite well in the past weeks. He has barely any political power, if not even none. And he has an entire team behind him. We, everyone in this room, can make this work if we work together. It is in favour of anyone to make this work. We count on your support.” Jan-Olof said.

A different person from the council spoke up: “well, I think I speak for quite a lot of people when I’m saying that this could work out well. We cannot deny that the support of his highness the duke and the PR- team will likely be enough to make his majesty a broadly liked and well-respected king.”

Many of the other members nodded, they agreed with what had just been said.

Wilhelm had gained more popularity after he came out, even in the highest political spheres. That support finally showed itself right now.

The speaker interfered: “I think we have heard enough opinions and facts to make a decision. We kindly ask the royal highnesses to leave the room and only renter once a decision has been made.”

Wilhelm and his father and the PR team members walked out.

Once the door was closed behind them, Wilhelm let out a heavy breath and collapsed in his father's arms. Pretending to be confident was exhausting. His pure motivation had been spite. He just couldn’t let the country get ruled by August or anyone else. He was the one who was meant to preserve his mothers' legacy after Erik's passing. Wilhelm knew he was either going to thrive under the pressure of carrying on a legacy, or he was going to collapse trying to do so.

At the moment it looked like he would thrive. He felt the responsibility his mother had always wished him to feel. He knew he could be good at being a king if he followed his heart.

“You did very well, son, I’m proud of you.”

Chapter Text

They waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It felt like hours, even though it had passed less than ten minutes since they left the conference room.

Every now and then, tiny snippets of the heated debate emerged from behind the heavy, wooden doors and echoed through the drawing room. Everyone was desperately trying to understand what was being said, but it was close to impossible.

“Why does it take so much time? The result should be obvious to anyone loving this country and what it stands for. After everything we did I for this country, they are backstabbing us.” mumbled Jan-Olof.
Jan-Olof was pacing up and down the room, Minou was, as always, working on something very important on her computer and Ludvig sat across Wilhelm. Encouragingly, he smiled at him every now and then.

Wilhelm returned that smile, even though he felt like he might actually pass out. He didn't understand why he was able to keep everything together for that long, and he didn’t know for how long he was capable of keeping everything together.

“It’s not that obvious, as it was with my — my wife inheriting the throne. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. It took two, maybe three minutes, not any longer.” He smiled to himself while looking down to his lap.

Wilhelm knew he was fighting with tears: “dad? It’s ok.”

The duke's gaze shot up. Hey eyes were filled with tears, but he wasn’t crying: “they were fighting over my title. First if it was going to be prince, duke or my inherited title. Then about the dukedom. After that, about your title. You were not christened at that time, so you weren’t assigned a duchy yet. We decided that you would receive the duchy of Värmland, just as always, for the second in line. However, your children were going to receive my title of count, additional to prince or princess. Now it will be the title of crown prince. How fast things can change.”

His last words were a mere whisper, barely audible to anyone but Wilhelm.

The youngest one nodded, not knowing what to respond. The only thing that came to his mind was a suggestion: “why don’t visit your family sometime soon?”

Ludvig choked out a sarcastic laughter: “Wilhelm, they are already on their way here. You understand the gravity of this. You are their family, and you know how they are.”

“I do.” The younger one sighed. “I do exactly know how they are like.”

Ludvig nodded.

Once again they sat in silence, only listening to the faint noises that emerged from the historic doors.
Wilhelm looked around the room. It was one of the more pompous rooms they had in their residence. The walls were painted in a tasteful green with golden ornaments. On them hung several portraits of deceased family members, of which Wilhelm could not remember the names. He has likely been taught them at some point, but it didn’t stick with him. If he was going to take over, he should probably invest more time into learning not only the names and history of his own family, but also from the other royals. He couldn’t mistake the name of the Belgian king again, that would be disastrous for their relationship.

All of them stopped what they did in motion to look to the door. The sound of it being opened had caught their attention.

“We ask you to come back inside. A decision has been made.” said the head of council with an emotionless voice and unreadable expression.

They almost ran back inside the room, desperately craving hopefully positive news.

As they were sat, the head chairman raised his voice: “a decision about who is going to succeed her majesty, the late queen Kristina, after the tragic events the past day has been made and almost entirely mutually agreed. We came to the conclusion that his majesty, King Wilhelm the first, will succeed the late queen's position and will take over the duties to the state and the family. However, we have concluded, that his majesty is not ready nor prepared, yet, so he will only go by his new title. Royal engagements will be held at an absolute minimum to help his majesty continuing his studies at Hillerska boarding school. He will be addressed as king from today on, for the rest of his, hopefully, long and happy life. We will not deny him his birthright.”

Wilhelm let go of the breath he did not know he was holding.

But he felt like he was trapped.

It was a weird mix of feelings.

It has been decided for him. He was never going to be free, never able to do what he wants to, but he protected his families' legacy. And he had to continue their legacy, he couldn’t with — Simon.

No, there was no time to think about that now. Not yet. It was too early.

“What is going to happen with the Title of crown prince?” asked Jan-Olof.

“That is still up for debate. At the moment, it looks like it is going to pass down to master August Horn of Årnäs, but the criminal charges pressed against him speak against that. We contacted both his majesty’s aunts, they are with their families on their way here. They can inherit the title, but what speaks against that is, that they are part of other Nobel and royal families. It is a very complex situation with no easy solution.” answered one of the council's heads.

“To be honest, nothing would be more stupid and hypocritical to give that Title. What about my father? He has a respectable family history. It is one of the oldest and most respected aristocratic families of Sweden. I know what has happened back then and why it would be controversial, but he is a good pick.”

“Your majesty, it does not work that way. Titles can’t just be shuffled like poker cards. There is a reason why we can’t just hand out titles. The title has to stay in the family.”

“He is family. In fact, he is the only family I have now.”

“You are aware that it’s not the same.”

Wilhelm nodded.

He didn’t dare to think about how it would be with August as his spare.

“We are going to put out the statement of declaring his majesty as the new King. A date of enthronement will be set somewhen after his eighteenth birthday, too. Now we have to leave to the train station.” stated Jan-Olof, Wilhelms chief Assistent.

Chapter Text

He sat on the windowsill, in the exact same spot he sat hours ago. Just seconds after a quiet dinner with Simon and his father, he had excused himself and hurried away from the uncomfortable silence. They hadn’t found one single conversation topic which lasted for more than half a minute, thereafter, they went to utter silence again, only hearing the occasional scratch of a fork on the plates. So, the only reasonable thing for Wilhelm to do was to escape the setting as fast as possible. After finishing the plate, he got up, excused himself and wandered mindlessly through the grand halls. Eventually and unconsciously he sat down in a windowstill which windows ere looking across the sea. The dim lights of the patrol boat caught his eye.

Why were the blinds not closed here? Usually, the blinds covered all the windows, reducing the possibility of getting photographers to take pictures of them in a private setting.

“Son, there you are. I was worried about you. You were gone all so sudden again.”

Wille looked up, his father was standing right in front of him.

“I needed some space. Some time for myself. How did everything go? The station, the procession. I couldn’t watch it, it was just too … much.”

Ludvig sighed: “I’ve not wanted it either, but from what I heard, everything went well.”

“Hmm” answered the young king.

His father nodded. He hesitated for a moment, but sat beside his son on the windowsill. He did not know what to say to his son but asked him: “what is on your mind, son?”

Wilhelm shook his head and shrugged his shoulders: “I don’t know. It’s all just coming down right now. It’s a lot.”

“I understand. And you are still so young, I can’t imagine how you are feeling. I still remember your mother became Queen. We were on vacation with you two, can you recall that? My god, we had so much fun until the call came that your grandfather pas passed. We were somewhere in the woods, where nobody recognized us. We were just a common family. And them with one snap of the finger…” his voice broke away.

He had to dabbed his eyes with a woolen handkerchief and continued barely whispering: “she was the head of all of this. Everything suddenly became so serious. Do you recall that we didn’t even bring any mourning clothes? They had to bring them inside the airplane before we exited it. It was a while different fiasco. We couldn’t get you changed quickly, you were just too fuzzy, too energetic.” The duke smiled sadly and continued with a shaky voice: “but still, it’s nothing compared to this. Nobody could have prepared me.”

“Do you think I am prepared” Wilhelm said sarcastically, immediately feeling bad for downplaying his father's emotions: “sorry” he added mumbling.

“No, you are as unprepared as I am. But working together, we might do better than you think.”

“Thank you, father.” said the young monarch.

And there they said, watching the night's sky.

“You should go to bed, Wille. I guess Simon is waiting for you.”

Chapter Text

“Wille! Where have you been?” — a distressed Simon called him from across his room — “I’ve been waiting for you the entire evening after you disappeared. Please stop doing that to us.”

Wille shuffled into his room and closed the door behind him. The room was enlightened by flickering candles on his table. The atmosphere he was greeted by was almost too friendly and welcoming for his liking. It just didn’t fit his mood right now.

“M’ sorry” — he mumbled — “I needed some time for myself.”

“You know you can talk to us, right?”

Wilhelm didn’t answer Simon, but began walking towards his bed. It looked untouched.

“You could’ve gone to sleep, Simme. It’s late.” He looked at Simon, who sat across the room in the spacious seating area.

“You seriously think I’m going to sleep when you just randomly disappear? Come on, Wille, you know that this idea is bonkers.” — he took a deep breath before continuing — “I’m not accusing you, Wille, really I’m not. But you could’ve just told us where you went. It would’ve saved us plenty of nerves. And to answer you: I would never go asleep when I don’t know where you are. How could I?”

Wilhelm shrugged his shoulders and let himself fall onto the bed: “dunno… was just a thought. You look tired.”

“So do you, Wille. I think this is taking a greater toll on you than you dare to admit. You know, it’s okay to admit that everything is too much.”

Wilhelm pushed himself to a seated position and looked at Simon in disbelief: “a weak monarch equals a weak nation, Simme. There is no room for being tired or sad or whatever.”

Simon sighed and shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what was coming out of Wilhelm's mouth. If Wille continued this attitude, a breakdown will not be that far away in the future. Simon knew what happened when Wille tried to be strong for the sake of appearance.

“Wille, please.” — he stood up and walked over to his boyfriends bed: “we are not living in the Middle Ages. It’s not like somebody will declare war on this country, based on your unpreparedness. Yes, you are not ready, nor are you capable of whatever monarchs did before you, but that won’t be the end of the world. And you are only a ceremonial figure without duties until you are eighteen.”

“Are you calling me incompetent? I could be the end of a legacy, Simon Eriksson, to the legacy my family left behind for me to take over. I know that somebody like you cannot wrap their head around a thing with a magnitude and impact like this, but I need to take care of a country. My mistakes could be the end to all of this. I might be the end of hundreds of years of the history of this country if I mess up.”

Simon stood in front of Willes bed in shock.

After a minute of silence, the Bjärstad teen whispered: “are you calling me small minded, Wilhelm Ludvig Oscar, or whatever your names are? Or do you prefer me to call him your majesty?” Simon said in a mocking but almost inaudible tone. He could no longer keep the tears at bay. A small, thick drop began rolling down his cheek.

Wilhelm stared at him, shocked by his own words. He had not meant to insult Simon, but tried to show his feelings without holding back. Once again he had to mess up, just as always.

He saw the tear falling down Simon's tanned skin. As it met his jawline and eventually fell down his face, it was so quiet that Wilhelm almost believed he had heard it meeting the floorboards.

Simons body began shaking and he nodded: “ok …… ok, your majesty. So, that is what you think of me. A peasant. A yokel. Nothing more, right? I’m so stupid, I should have seen this coming. I was your little social experiment, right? I should have seen this coming. All you are the same, and you are no better than Augusts friends. Fuck you, Wilhelm. Find someone else to play with. I’m out.”

With that, the Bjärstad boy turned his heels and rushed out of the palace's room.

The young royal was still focused on the spot his boyfriend (?) had been standing mere minutes ago.
No, this could not be happening, this wasn’t real. Maybe he was asleep and this was a nightmare, but when would it finally end?

Simon could not leave him to himself— too. He couldn’t just do that.

But he did.

He had left.

And Wille was alone.

Simon regretted walking out almost instantly. As soon as he had left the historical bedroom, something told him to reenter it and apologize. What he had said wasn’t nice, and he had overreacted perhaps a bit, but not without being provoked by Wilhelm. He had called him a peasant.
Had he actually meant that?

Deep down, Simon knew Wille hadn’t. But he could not go back now. Wilhelm had said what he had said, and he had not apologized immediately. That showed Simon the amount of self reflection Wilhelm had for his actions. And it would look weak when Simon turned around and went back to Wilhelm.

So he kept walking without a destination, but somehow still finding his way out.

Chapter Text

“Your majesty?” Somebody knocked aggressively on his door. As if he had not heard their knocking, Wilhelm put his headphones back on and increased the volume even more, drowning his feelings in the blaring music. However, it didn’t block out the knocking, but he couldn’t care less. The door was locked, nobody would get in here anyway.

He curled himself back into a small ball under on top of his duvet. After Simon ran away, he had stayed in almost the same position for the entire night, not bothering to change out of his suit. He hadn’t slept all night, his thoughts were continually drifting off to everyone. Everyone, because he lost almost everyone he loved. What was he being punished for? Couldn’t this all just end?

“Your majesty, please, open up the door immediately. Asking for permission to enter.”

The request stayed unanswered.

On the other side of the room, Jan-Olof stood, desperately trying to get the monarch's attention.
“Wilhelm, this is not funny, we don’t have the capacity for your childish behavior.” The white haired man said more than clearly. He heard that Wilhelm was listening to music, his headphones did very little to cover op the loud sounds. He would have liked to avoid this measure, but Wilhelm did not leave him with another choice.

He pulled the key out of his jacked, aware of the fact that he did not just break protocols by opening the locked bedroom, but also the law. After fiddling with the keys and eventually unlocking the door, he pushed it open.

The young king's room, looked almost as tidy as it always looked when the royal was at Hillerska. With the exception being the bed. There he spotted him, curled up on the bed, wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

Slowly, he walked over.

After being sure that Wilhelm had seen him, he gently grabbed the teenage boy's phone and stopped the music.

Wilhelm shot up from the bed, pushing himself into a seating position: “give that back. You’ve no right to enter my room.”

“I am not going to hand you your phone back, Wilhelm. The country needs you, your duties need you.”

“And you’ve no right to address me with my name, nor to enter my room or invade my privacy in any sort of way.”

“Come on, Wilhelm.” — he sat down beside the royal — “you know that I am not trying to hurt you. I am doing my best to protect you, and I am sure you know that. What has happened is horrible, but we can’t change the past. We need to look forward.” Jan-Olof looked at Wilhelm, who was still avoiding eye contact.

“It’s not that easy” — Wilhelm whispered, fighting with tears—“ I just want to be here, with Pappa. I cannot do this now.”

“Wilhelm, from the moment a royal is born, there is no hiding. There is no room for illness or weakness. You need to ensure the power that was handed to you. Yes, all of this is ceremonial, and you will only step into duty once you are older, but now you are not even trying. And it is my task to not allow it. You cannot hide. The crown will not survive this. You have a country, you have people. You must rule. The people are growing restless and suspicion. You must face the people, our you will be our downfall. You will be your downfall. But you don’t have to be our downfall. Now handle it how you are constitutionally supposed to do.”

Wilhelm didn’t answer, in fact, he did not even blink as response. He just breathed, with tears in his eyes.

Jan-Olof stood up: “good. You are expected to be downstairs in twenty minutes. We are waiting for you. We will record the first addressing of the public.”

After Jan-Olof left, his body almost moved on Autopilot.

Before he could think about it, he was standing in the entryway of the private wing, where his father and the entire entourage already awaited them.

“There he is.” Jan-Olof looked at his watch, “even in time. Perfect.”

The lack of comment from his father told him everything; he agreed with Jan-Olof.

“This is the pre-written speech. Just read it out, somewhat believable. It will be a voice recording only, but it has to be done. The public wants to hear the heir.”

Wilhelm grabbed the sheet of paper and began reading it. The writer had done somewhat of a good job; the words sounded almost like his own. Well, not his own, but like the caricature the PR team had created. He would not have to put on too much of a facade. Additionally, he would not be seen. Him picking his finger or biting his fingernails wouldn’t cause a national scandal.

He proceeded to sit down in front of the microphone.

“Whenever his majesty is ready. We can record several attempts or edit it later on.”

Wilhelm nodded, took a deep breath and showed the reporter that he was ready.

3…2…1…

“I speak to you today with feelings of profound sorrow. Throughout her life, Her Majesty The Queen — my beloved mother — was an inspiration and example to me and all my family and I owe her the most heartful dept any son can owe their parent: for her love, her affection, her guidance, and her advice anytime we needed it.

My mother, Queen Kristina, always knew how to handle difficult situations, both on a state level and a political one. Alongside the personal grief that all my family are feeling, we also share with so many of you in Sweden and all across the globe.

In her life of service, we saw an abiding love of tradition, together with that fearless embrace of progress. We will remember her as a progressive mind who excelled in the state's service. But I will remember her as my mum, who left us behind too early. I want simply to say this: thank you. May you rest in peace with Erik, my beloved late brother.”

— shift to Simon —

Towards the end of the speech, Simon heard Willes voice breaking away. He knew he was most likely crying now.

The news anchor continued: “We’ve just heard His Majesty’s first ever official statement as Swedens new monarch, and we must admit; there is nobody who doesn’t feel with the kid right now. It is truly heartbreaking what the family must be going through right now, suffering two unexpected losses in less than a year. The period of mourning of His Royal Highness Crown Prince Erik is not even officially over, yet.”

A different commentator continued: “exactly. It’s hard to believe that he is able to handle everything that well at this young age and with his track record. What raises even more concern or rather question is that His Majesty disappeared after the news of Her Majesty’s tragic passing. He has yet to attend any public events.”

Simon stopped listening. Hearing Willes shaky voice breaking away broke his heart. He knew he had overreacted yesterday, but he couldn’t just give in. He had to show Wille how hurt he was. But on the other hand, he felt horrible for leaving Wille behind, obviously not fine. He knew it probably took several attempts to get somewhat of an okay-ish recording. Simon pictured Wille shaking behind the microphone, nervously picking his fingers or even biting them in his breath breaks. All he wanted to do was to hug Wille, but instead he had to watch his moved through the tabloids from far away.
They were going absolutely crazy after they had caught a small glimpse of Wille and Ludvig last night. Simon had seen the headlines as soon as he left the palace in a rush. The blurry photo of the Monarch and his father were everywhere. The people we too busy speculating about the background of this picture to notice a black limousine leaving the palace grounds. Apparently, nobody was speculating about that.

Chapter Text

In the first days after leaving the royal palace, Wilhelm would call him frequently. Almost every night, Simon could expect a drunken voicemail from the young monarch. Listening to Wilhelm's slurred voice felt somewhat like déjà vu from the night he went to rescue the then prince from the football field. Not responding to the voicemails made Simon feel like he was betraying Wilhelm and, in a broader sense, the country.

It was evident to everyone that Wilhelm was not handling the situation well, despite the narrative they tried to convey. The PR team seemed to have forgotten that the public is not naive. Royal commentators and everyday people on the internet saw through the staged pictures, clearly leaked by the royal family themselves.

The tabloids, in particular, went hard on Wilhelm and his father. The reports eagerly followed a car crash mentality to generate maximum interaction. Everyone knew it was wrong to closely observe the disaster, but no one could shift their gaze away. Consequently, the stream of news did not diminish even after Simon's departure and leading up to the funeral.

Simon caught himself scrolling through the comment section of tweets with the latest royal news more than once every hour. He felt guilty for providing the tabloids a platform to spread lies and rumors, but he couldn't resist clicking on the articles. The lurid headlines had a magnetic effect on him.

Looking at the pictures made him feel closer to Wille. The Walkabout Wilhelm and his father did on the last evening captured Simon's full attention.

News broke that a Range Rover had stopped in front of the gates of Drottningholm. The gates were open, and everyone expected the car to pass through, but it didn't. Instead, guards opened the door, and Wilhelm stepped out.

Watching the video footage, Simon was shocked by the thunderstorm of camera flashes and the sound of screaming questions that immediately followed. He saw Wilhelm moving stiffly and slightly hunched, walking towards the shouting crowds. His face appeared blank, and his eyes seemed empty. There were no tears visible, but the layers of makeup couldn't conceal the slight puffiness around his eyes.

When Simon saw the close-ups taken by people, he noticed that Wilhelm was once again wearing layers of makeup. It confused him that the general public hadn't caught on to this, but on the other hand, Wilhelm hadn't been seen without anything covering his imperfections for quite a while. People had grown accustomed to it, believing he always looked like that. But Simon knew better. He loved all the tiny spots on Wilhelm's face that made him look unique. What he was seeing now was a distorted image of his Wille.

The pictures and videos from that day didn't just show Wilhelm walking through the gates and past the journalists; they also captured many other wholesome yet heartbreaking moments. One photographer had captured Wilhelm being embraced by an elderly lady behind the makeshift fence, which had been removed to bring her closer to the crowds.

From a video that lasted about fifteen minutes, the world witnessed Wilhelm walking along the low fence, shaking people's hands, and receiving condolences. Some handed him flowers, while others gave him small handwritten cards, most of which were handed over to the overwhelmed guards accompanying him. It was clear they hadn't planned for the young monarch to leave the palace grounds.

Wilhelm asked the security detail to collect the cards and bring them to his new study so he could read them later. He engaged in brief chats with people wishing him the best and offering support or expressing their condolences. It was evident that facing the public wasn't easy for him, but considering the claims of his unsuitability, it was almost necessary. The general public responded overwhelmingly positively to the Walkabout.

But the most memorable scene was the conversation with the elderly woman that led to Wilhelm being pulled into a warm embrace. People desperately tried to understand what was being said but failed. The camera only caught fragments: "you're a sweet boy—" and "you are too young for this." After that, Wilhelm was already enveloped in the woman's warm embrace. Simon noticed Wilhelm leaning slightly into the hug. The surrounding people reacted with collective "awww"s and "how sweet"s, capturing the sigh they all shared.

As they separated, another bystander handed Wilhelm a massive bouquet of flowers. The young monarch thanked them, turned around, and began walking toward the sea of flowers in front of the palace fence. He slowly dropped to his knees and placed the bouquet among the others. For a brief moment, he remained in that position, facing the crowd with a group of people behind him.

The videos captured Wilhelm's gaze fixated on the laid-out flowers. His eyes welled up, and it was evident that he was holding back tears. However, he successfully suppressed them successfully.

Wilhelm got up and walked back toward the gates, with Ludvig following him. It seemed that everyone stopped recording at the same time since Simon couldn't find a single picture or video of Wilhelm behind the gates and eventually in the car.

Simon found himself wishing he had been there with Wille.

What followed the next day was the funeral.

Just like Erik's, it was broadcast live.

Simon sat in his living room with Sara and his mother, having kindly declined the invitation he received. He regretted it, but it would have felt wrong to attend the grand ceremony. It would have felt wrong to sit between world leaders and monarchs without talking to Wille. They would have merely looked down upon him, so why bother?

But Wille was why he should bother.

It was too late now. He couldn't just walk into the church midway through the service. Just as he pondered that, Simon saw Wilhelm, followed by his father, entering the church.

Everyone stood up, and the music began playing. It was a beautiful organ piece accompanied by a choir. Wilhelm slowly walked toward the front of the church where the coffin would be placed.

Felice had texted him earlier that her family had been invited to the service as well. As the camera focused on the attendees, Simon recognized several Hillerska students he didn't know were somehow related to Wille, sitting in the rows. He also spotted other familiar faces, mostly politicians, celebrities, or other royals. Simon wasn't well-versed in royal affairs, but some faces were too famous to miss.

Everything that followed seemed to pass by faster than expected. The service continued with speeches, singing, and music. Finally, the procession left the church. Kristina's coffin was lifted onto the carriage, and the procession through the streets of Stockholm began. Wilhelm and his father followed, along with other individuals Simon didn't recognize, who presumably belonged to the extended Royal Family and Duke Ludvig's family. At least, that's what the commentator said.

It felt strange and, at the same time, sad to see Wilhelm walking with a blank expression, taking each step in sync with the music. It wasn't that Wille looked sad, but rather empty, and that horrified Simon. When he looked at Wilhelm's face, he saw nothing. However, when he looked at Ludvig in his military uniform, he saw the worried glances he cast toward Wilhelm and the suppressed sadness.

Everything seemed to stretch on for an eternity, even though Simon just wanted it to end. He felt uncomfortable and saddened by watching the events unfold, but it also felt like he was somehow supporting Wille by doing so. He couldn't simply turn off the TV; it would feel more than wrong.

His phone suddenly displayed a newly received message from Felice. Later that evening, there would be a state dinner with invited guests. She and her family had received an invitation too.

Simon replied with: "Please look out for Wille."

Felice responded with a thumbs-up emoji.

Simon shifted his gaze back to the TV.

The reporter stated that the procession was almost reaching its destination, and the live broadcast would soon end. "This day truly marks a new beginning," the reporter said. "Her Majesty the late Queen Kristina was beloved by many people, not only in Sweden but around the world. It will be large shoes to fill for the young King Wilhelm. The seventeen-year-old will be inaugurated later this year after his eighteenth birthday. The events of his first days, however, promise a bright future for Sweden's monarchy. The public backlash regarding his age and eligibility has mostly been silenced by the growing, broad support. Especially following the walkabout at Drottningholm Palace, support has increased." The report concluded.

A different news anchor took over: "Previously known as a rather shy royal, the youngest son of the late Queen Kristina was also seen as a party prince. It is remarkable how the narrative changed almost overnight. His approval rating almost surpasses that of the late Crown Prince Erik." The reporter stopped speaking, seemingly reading something new from the teleprompter. "As we speak, and to the surprise of most people, it has just been announced by the royal palace that His Majesty will return to Hillerska Boarding School to finish his studies. His Majesty will attend Hillerska part-time, with His Royal Highness Duke Ludvig acting as his representative."

Simon stopped listening.

Now it was public.

Wilhelm would return to Hillerska.

Chapter Text

Wilhelm was about to return.

On the evening of the funeral, all Hillerska students received the news that Wilhelm would be back by the start of the new week. Despite still being in a period of mourning, the Headmistress wasted no time in announcing the extensive preparations to welcome Wilhelm back with a grand ceremony. A larger concert was planned at the chapel, followed by a campaign reception in the entrance hall to honor him. Even the parents of the residents had been invited, as requested by the royal palace.

Since the palace's announcement, the students had been kept busy with preparations. The day after the funeral, the choir was called in to practice the pieces they would be performing. To Simon's surprise, Felice was also present. He had not expected her to be present after the funerals reception.

"Felice! Felice, over here," Simon waved to get her attention, and she immediately walked toward him.

"Hey Simon, there you are. I've been looking for you too," Felice replied.

Simon smiled, wanting to show that he cared about Wilhelm's best friend. However, he desperately needed to know what had happened at the reception after the funeral. Only a few carefully selected pictures had surfaced, all from the PR teams of the attendees.

The silence was becoming uncomfortable, so Simon decided to speak up and ask the burning question, his words tumbling out quickly, "What was it like? I mean, yesterday. How was Wille?"

Felice appeared relieved that Simon finally asked the question she had expected, and she replied, "It was okay, I guess. It was a reception after a state funeral, so there wasn't much to expect. There were state guests, conversations, and condolences offered. Later, we had a five-course meal. That's about it. There was also a more private reception, but only my family was invited. Sadly, I was not allowed to attend, so I can't tell you much about that."

"How was he doing?" Simon asked nervously.

"To be honest, I can't really tell. He seemed fine and not too anxious. We were seated quite far apart, and he mostly engaged in conversations with other royals. I think he mostly spoke with the Spanish and British royals, but that wouldn't mean much to you," Felice explained.

Simon interrupted her angrily, almost screaming, "Oh, now you're doing the same thing. Of course, Simon, from a working-class Bjärstad family, wouldn't understand such things. I guess I'm too uneducated for that!"

He turned abruptly and hurried away. Felice stood frozen for a moment, shocked by what had just happened. She hadn't meant to attack Simon personally; he had simply misunderstood the situation. It was what Wilhelm meant when he said that Simon reacted angrily when he told him that he didn't understand matters of state. Felice now understood Wilhelm's perspective better than before.

Snapping out of her shock, Felice saw Simon rushing away from the chapel where the choir was waiting. She needed to clear things up, not just for herself but mostly for Wilhelm. Simon should not find out about the news that had broken in royal circles after the dinner. He needed to know it before Willes arrival. It would likely devastate Simon to see the upcoming changes in Wilhelm's life. His attempts to punish the young monarch were doing more harm than good.

Felice had seen Wilhelm in person and understood the immense burden he had to bear almost overnight. She couldn't tell Simon, but she also didn't want to witness his reaction when he found out for himself in two days' time.

"Simon, Simon!" she called out, trying to catch up with him. "Simon, wait for me. Please, let me explain."

He didn't even turn around, but finally, she caught up with him and gently grabbed his arm.

"What, Felice?" Simon tried to yank his arm out of her firm grip.

"Please, Simon, let me explain," Felice pleaded.

Simon stopped in his tracks and spun around. "What is there to explain? Your entitlement? King Wilhelm's entitlement? There's nothing to explain, Felice. Keep it to yourself. It won't make anything better. And I thought you were different from them. How wrong I was."

"Simon, no. Now you have to listen to me. I'm tired of the games you're playing with Wilhelm, and clearly, so is he," Felice declared.

The mention of Wilhelm's name caught Simon's attention. As much as he wanted to despise Wilhelm, hearing his name had a profound impact on Simon.

Seeing that Simon was actually listening, Felice began to speak. "Neither Wilhelm nor I have tried or are trying to offend you, Simon. You have to be honest with yourself. You're overreacting. It's a fact that you don't understand the inner workings of the royal family or state affairs. You're making a drama out of nothing, Simon. Wilhelm is now the King, and he doesn't have time for your tantrums. Your reaction tells me a lot about you. You've internalized the hatred for the Royal Family, the aristocracy, and anyone with wealth to such an extent that you fail to see the reality. Yet, you go around judging us based on a small but very vocal group within this world. If you don't look beyond your prejudices, don't expect us to reach out and look beyond ours. Wilhelm was the one who reached out to you, even though he was born into Sweden's most prestigious family. Can't you just accept that you weren't born into this and, if you want to be with Wilhelm, you'll need to learn a lot? It doesn't work the way the media and tabloids like to portray it. Things are different here."

Simon didn't know how to respond. He felt as though Felice had just slapped him in the face, and the worst part was that there was some truth to what she said.

He stared at her in silence, and Felice met his gaze head-on. "If you leave him behind, ignore him, and don't even attend his mother's funeral, you can't blame him for moving on. He has the right to do so. You're the one behaving like a child, Simon. Wilhelm was the one who opened up and let you into his life, despite knowing it would subject him to scrutiny. But you fail to see that. You only see through your anti-monarch lenses and refuse to consider Wilhelm's perspective. Don't expect him to chase after you."

Felice just could not tell Simon what she wanted to. It felt wrong, but she just could not.

Simon had to make a decision: stand with Wilhelm or maintain his views on the situation.

Chapter Text

Simon looked into the mirror of the boys bathroom. He wore his perfectly ironed and precisely tailored Hillerska uniform, just as every other student and teacher.

His Wille will return today.

Well, not his Wille.

Rather his Majesty King Wilhelm of Sweden.

That thought made his gut clench painfully.

He, Simon Eriksson himself, the-sex-tape-ex-boyfriend had chosen Wilhelm to be only that. Wilhelm, the King of Sweden, no longer his Wille. Ever since Simon left the palace, regret plagued him about leaving. He was the one who had decided to go, not Wille.

Simon splashed water on his face and looked into the mirror afterwards. His face seemed to have aged in the past days. His eyes were more tired than usual, he looked like he had not gotten a good night sleep in days.

It was true, he had not gotten a good night sleep in days, mainly because he was too busy reading new articles about the royal family, trying to gasp on how Wille was doing. Those articles said a lot without saying anything. Most of them were pure speculations, others were clearly made up stories or sensationalised stories of what has actually happened. And all of them had the same, horrible repetitiveness, Simon soon began to dread. Suddenly every move of the royal family was ‘shocking’ or ‘heartbreaking’. Each one of them was more lurid than the previous one.

Simon stopped staring at his dripping face, he grabbed a towel and dried it. Technically, it had made absolutely no effect to dry his face, but he had hoped it would calm his nerves. It did not.

He looked at his phone; less than thirty minutes until the royals arrival.

Hillerska was going to greet the young monarch with a service in the chapel, including a concert of the Hillerska orchestra and choir. After that either Wilhelm or his father was going to give a speech, followed by a speech if the headmistress. Then, ther was going to be a reception. Previously, he had thought the celebrations would not be that big, but the school ha turned out to plan bigger than Simon had anticipated.

More lavish than celebrity weddings, Simon thought to himself.

The school had even provided them with a one day etiquette crash course. Most of the students had dreaded it; they already knew how to encounter members of the royal family.

The girls were told how to curtesy, the boys how to bow. They were only to speak when spoke to at first, they must not walk right in front of the monarch or behave badly around him.

Utterly ridiculous, Simon thought.

Wilhelm was still Wilhelm, only with a purely representative role right now. It wasn’t as if he suddenly got promoted to being the prime minister.

After receiving the instructions by the school, his mother had decided against coming, she had said, that she felt rather unwelcomed the last time she had been at Hillerska for the parents weekend. Simon understood her to well, because he constantly felt the same way.

“Simon”, somebody knocked on the door, ripping him out of his thoughts: “are you in there?”

“Yes, one minute.” He readjusted his tie and unlocked the door. His choir teacher stood in front of the door.

“I’ve been searching for you. We need to hurry up, we need to start soon.” His teacher stood in front of him, smiling nervously.

Together, they hurried through the corridors towards the chapel.

The old chapel was already full, exept for two rows in the front. The soft murmuring of the guests filled the ancient building. Simon had never sang in front of a crowd that big or that important.

Simon inspected the rows as much as he could while passing by; all of the invited guests looked both nervous and excited. They were dressed more than just well, to him it looked like they were going to a gala. Some of them even wore their Hillerska pins or their military medals.

Who does that?, Simon asked himself. Who wears a uniform to a school event? Everything seemed wrong and he felt out of place. The atmosphere in the chapel felt more like they were about to attend a coronation, not a welcoming ceremony of a student.

“We are sad that it’s not a white tie event” Stella and Frederika had complained a day earlier. Simon had to look up what that meant.

Shortly after arriving in the chapel they got the cue that the ceremony was about to begin. To say the least, the first few moments went down just as expected.

They entered the chapel, sang their selected pieces, listened to the Hillerska orchestra and went on to take their seats.

Simon did his best to avoid looking at Wilhelm; once he caught himself looking at him, only to see that the other one was avoiding to look at Simon, too. Simon did his best to act like he did not care, but once he was sitting on his designated spot and Wilhelm was about to give a speech, it became uncomfortable to not look at the royal.

Other than the speeches he had heard Wilhelm give, this one did not feel scripted. He was not even using flash cards.

Simon listened to his speech.

A theory Simon had, that Wilhelm was a well equipped speaker when there was no script and he talked by heart, was proven once again. No doubt, Wille was nervous, but it was not the anxious nervousness he remembered from the day they were supposed to to present their book to the class. It made Simon happy to see the progress Wille had made since meeting Boris.

He kept listening to Wilhelms kind words about their performance and how welcome he feels. Wilhelm proceeded to talk about his family, his duties and how thankful he was about the opportunity to still attend Hillerska. The words he spoke were genuine, but also somewhat shallow.

Soon after the “thank you” from the King and applause from the crowd, it was the headmistresses turn to speak.

With Wilhelm out of his view, Simon decided to pay attention to what the headmistress was saying.
“Just as His Majesty the King, I would like to thank the choir and orchestra of our school for the astonishing performance. It is truly an honour to greet His Majesty back at Hillerska, despite the recent, sorrowful loss of Her Majesty the Queen. Hillerska has a tradition of serving the country through providing education not only for the aristocracy, but also the monarchy. We are honoured with the close relationship to the Swedish royal family, but today, the school of ours is breaking history. From now on, we are blessed with the first ever reigning monarch attending this school, but as some may have noticed, we are also welcoming the first ever foreign royal on our grounds.”

The headmistress stopped speaking and the whispering among the crowd began. Some people clapped as a response what the headmistress had said, but everyone was trying to understand what the headmistress had meant with ‘foreign royal’.

“Not only are we strengthening our countries international relations, but we are also providing an international atmosphere to our students. This day marks an important day not only in our countries but also school’s history. May I remind you —”

Nobody seemed to listen any longer.

The whispering in the listening crowd grew louder.

Simon did not understand what was going on, but he had nobody to ask after his fallout with Felice.
As much as he hated himself for doing so, he chose his curiosity over his aber at the girl.

“Felice?”

She looked straight at him: “What?”

A bit embarrassed he asked: “please, do you know what is going on?”

She hesitated, but answered: “now where I’m an not an entitled snob anymore, I can tell you what I was trying to tell you at the choir practice. Do you remember it, the one in which you ran off.”
Simon did not answer her. He somehow understood that she was angry with him.p, even though he still thought he had done nothing wrong.

“Fine, I was trying to tell, you about her. Infanta Isabella of Spain. She and her family decided it was the best for her and the Monarchy to attend Hillerska. She seemed to be very friendly with Wille. They were hanging out the day after the funerals reception. She is our age and well liked in social circles. I wanted to tell you about her, in order to avoid this situation, but you were to busy throwing a tantrum.”

Frederika jumped in: “friendly with Wilhelm meaning the kind of ‘friendship’ you guys had.”

Simon failed to answer her.

Chapter Text

A loud bang filled the festive room once again, followed by the cheering of people.

The formalities and the welcoming ceremony had long been over and the informal part of welcoming the new monarch had begun hours ago.

They had lost track of time, it was dark outside, the room was enlightened by the golden chandeliers and numerous candles, which casted a golden glow on the crowd. Already hours ago the musicians switched from playing slow waltzes to faster classical pieces and folk songs. They were dancing, cheering to another Champaign bottle being opened. Chattering and laughing of people filled the room. Even though the after dinner festivities were reserved for the alumni and students above eighteen, many of the first years were still very much present, celebrating along everyone. Nobody seemed to care about that.

It felt like the world had switched the pace it was turning in— it did not feel like reality, more like a parallel universe. The aristocrats, royals and the countries wealthiest people were celebrating like everyone else, just bigger, more glamorous and lavish.

Simon did not want to think about how much money everyone consumed of the overpriced bubbly drink and miniature pieces of cake.

He felt like he was the only one not into the spell of the parallel reality.

Nobody seemed to care about him, for one. He was by far not the center of attention, it felt more like everyone did not even notice his presence. They moved around him like he was not even there.

The music and chattering deafend him, but at the same time, it felt too far away to be really happening. He pushed himself through the room, trying to escape the room, which suddenly felt too hot, too full, too loud.

He did not see Wilhelm, but his father chatting with two other men, laughing and having fun. Where was Wille? Did he leave early? Why would he leave the celebrations to honour his arrival early?

Simon managed to push himself towards the exit, finally able to leave the room. He left the room and quick shut the door behind him. The heavy wooden door closed, and it suddenly got silent and dark.
Up to this moment, he had not noticed how much he had wished to be out of this room. The silent and dim corridor was welcoming, only tiny sounds of what happened inside managed to escape into the corridor. It felt like he was finally able to breathe. He had not noticed the lack of oxygen, till now. Just now, he took a deep breath of fresh air.

After doing so few times, he decided he wanted to get away from the happenings in the room as far as possible. The thought of all the people escaping the real world made him sick. He hated parties like this. They did not feel right to him, something was just off.

So he began wandering.

Without a clear destination he walked through the main building. Upstairs, a corridor to the right, one to the left, he was sure he had never seen these places before. Up to this day, he had not even noticed how big this building was. Sure, it was accessible, but he had not cared less about exploring it.

He let his back slide down the nearest wall. And then, he sat there, in a dark corridor, only enlightened by the moon shining through the large window. Everything what happened today started to sink in, bit by bit.

Wilhelm was back, even though who was back was not Wilhelm, not the Wilhelm he used to know. Simon did not dare to think about how interacting with him was going to be from now on, let alone trying to get him somehow back. After the fallout with Felice and him running away from Drottningholm, he did not even think about getting back with him.

Now was the moment, he felt the most regret in his life. Why did he have to run away when Wille needed him? Why did he ignore his calls and why did he leave him alone when he needed him the most? Why hadn’t he listened to Felice and why had he been so ignorant and arrogant?

Just now, he saw what has happened in the last days. He saw what went wrong, but especially what he did wrong.

Maybe Felice was right, maybe he failed to see why Wille was how he is and why he needs to be like this. He realized, that maybe, Wille was not the entitled one. Maybe he…

Simon could not finish his thought, he got interrupted by a short shriek, which came from across the corridor. He almost jumped, as it scared him for a short moment.

“What are you doing here“, a heavy accented English voice asked him, “who are you?“ It added.
Simons gaze shot up, he immediately wanted to look down again.

He recognized the light brown hair, the minute he looked up.

She stepped out of the dark, into beam of moonlight.

Despite seeing her the first time today, Simon immediately noticed who it was.

“Do I have to repeat myself? What are you doing here and who are you?“, she asked again, this time in a not so kind voice.

Simon pushed himself off the floor, but the girl was still a few centimeters taller than him. The, before so kind looking Infanta, now looked intimidating. Simon did not know how she managed to do so.

“I could ask you the same thing. I am Simon.“

Even though barley being able to see the entire corridor due to the darkness, he saw something shifting in her face.

She smirked, not the kind of smirk Simon would describe as nice sweet or pleasant, but one he would describe as looking down onto him: “Oh, the infamous Simon. Until now, I have only seen you below a stranger, without any clothes. I did not recognize you earlier. But you still did not answer me why you are here.“

The irony in her voice made his blood boil, but he forced himself to stay kind: “Pleased to meet you, however, you did not tell me your name. And to answer the question you are so eager to get answered; I was wandering around. What are you doing here?“ He decided to ignore her comment about the tape.

“You most likely know who I am. An I live here, you are sitting right in front of my rooms’ door, not that I owe you an answer. I guess it is time for you to leave, the security detail was supposed to keep people out of this corridor, but it looks like they failed.“

“I do not know if you simply do not know Hillerska yet, or if you are just confused, but the main building is not a residence building. Your room is certainly not up here.“

She smirked once again, holding a key up: “It is my room and His Majesties room his just on the other side, she pointed at another wooden door: “The headmistress thought they were a better fit for a King and a royal, other than having to share a room without warm water. His Majesties room directly overlooks the fountain, my view may not be as good, but it is still quite nice.“

Simon had enough: “of course you are one of them who has to get a special treatment. Wille is not like that, he is different. He does not care about things like that, he likes to be normal. And do not call him His Majesty, if you were real friends, you would not call him by his title. He would hate it.“

She looked at him with pity, he would have almost believed that the expression was genuine: “Oh Simon, I doubt we are talking about the same person. He has changed, he honors his families legacy. He has to time no fool around. I may have never seen you together, but I can tell, right now, your perception of him could not be farther off reality. Believe me, Simon, I am genuinely sorry about that. It must be horrible for you. What is between him and me is the best for both of us and I can tell that it is genuine.“

“You only love him for his title“ Simon exploded.

Her expression shifted from pity, to something unreadable: “Simon, I have a title myself. Infanta is a royal title, too. My father is a King. Be glad, that I decided to not use it formally in school. I do not need Wilhelm to gain fame and fortune, other than you.“

“I love him“, he stepped closer to her as he raised his voice; “you are using him.“

The way she repeated his name over and over again made him furious. How she almost pronounced it like his sister just was too much for him. It took him an obscene amount of self control not explode fully. He had never known himself to be like this. This explosive, almost aggressive.

The Infanta switched to Spanish: “For me, there is no need of using him. And I love him— too. You may think that you love him, you love him in a sinful way. I know what has happened between you; you do not accept him or who he is. You need to respect him like a monarch, not just some random person. It is who he is, his destiny. This is not some sort of game; today I want to be with you, but tomorrow I will no longer care about you.“ —she said, mocking his voice — “It does not work like this.“

Simon was close to breaking down in tears. Usually, words like these would not have hurt him, but he knew that the was at least a tiny bit of truth in what she was saying.

“Wille loves me“, he whispered, holding back tears.

“He loves the escapism you offer. He loves the carefreeness he used to offer to him, but back then, he was the second in line to the throne, now he is the King. I am sorry to phrase it like this, but the carefreeness died with Erik at first, but it got buried with Her Majesty the Queen. May she rest in peace.“

Simon would not have been angry at her, if he did not believe a bit what she said, unfortunately, did.

Simon felt like her wird’s were the reality he did not want to see. They thought, horrified him. He just stood there, not sure what to say. He would have liked to run away, but his body did not do what he told it to do. He just stood there, starring at her.

“And before you say anything concerning this, he was the one who invited me to attend Hillerska with him. I was happy at my pervious boarding school, but who am I to resist a Kings offer. And now I am here, not even understanding basic Swedish, the language of the lessons. But I have him, and we like each other.“

“I can tell that he does not love you, without having seen you together, I can just tell.“, he whispered.

“I gave up a lot for him. I like him the way you liked him, just in a less sinful and more reasonable way. In our society, you are supposed to marry someone who can respect the institution while still loving in a reasonable amount. It may be something unfamiliar to you, but the crown is more important than the individual. The crown must win, even though it may result in personal dissatisfaction. I moved here in order to protect both his crown, Sweden, and mine, the Spanish one. Other than you, we are being reasonable adults, who happen to like each other, too. As you’ve already said, you’ve not seen us together, so who are you to judge if we love each other or not.“, she spoke in Spanish.

She did not gave Simon the chance to answer, but stepped around him, unlocked the doors to her supposed room and disappeared in the grand suite.

Chapter Text

He walked up the stairs, trying to be as quite as possible. Somewhat confused by the fact that the guards who were supposed to stop people from going up the stairs were not on position. It was a rare occasion that no guards were around, in fact, he did not remember a single event of that happening in the last weeks. But to be honest, he enjoyed the brief moment of being just to himself, without security detail, staff or even his father.

Not that he did not like their company, but it felt like he had no privacy. Someone constantly wanted something from him, sign here, take a picture there, greet people over here — everything was more than exhausting.

On the contrary, it was a much welcome distraction. Around people, he forgot the situation he was in for a brief moment, the grief was pushed aside, not confronted. His new found side of enjoying being around people, was just a facade to escape how he really felt, and that was kind of enjoyable. He knew that it was not really him, who greeted people, shook hand and acted like the monarch who he was supposed to be, but rather a projection of who people wished him to be.

The worst moments came when he was alone, just him and his thoughts.

Memories played in his head like a broken record. Both positive and negative ones, his mother scolding him, hugging him, Christmas celebrations as a family, but also her screaming at him. Once he closed his eyes, the long lost memories started replaying.

And that was the most horrible thing.

He was brought back to reality through a loud voice: "Y antes de que digas nada al respecto, fue él quien me invitó a ir a Hillerska con él. Yo era feliz en mi anterior internado, pero quién soy yo para resistirme a una oferta de Reyes. Y ahora estoy aquí, sin entender ni siquiera el sueco básico, el idioma de las clases. Pero lo tengo a él, y nos gustamos".

"Me doy cuenta de que no te quiere, sin haberos visto juntos, me doy cuenta", he barley heard Simon whispering.

Wilhelm did not understand a word Spanish, but he felt like Isabella and Simon were talking about him. He had developed somewhat of a skill, spotting people who were talking about him. Trying to not be discovered by them, he pressed his back against the wall, not making any noise.

"Renuncié a mucho por él. Me gusta como te gustaba a ti, sólo que de una forma menos pecaminosa y más razonable. En nuestra sociedad, se supone que debes casarte con alguien que respete la institución sin dejar de amar de forma razonable. Puede que sea algo desconocido para ti, pero la corona es más importante que el individuo. La corona debe ganar, aunque pueda resultar en insatisfacción personal. Me mudé aquí para proteger tanto su corona, Suecia, como la mía, la española. Aparte de usted, estamos siendo adultos razonables, que resulta que también nos gustamos. Como ya ha dicho, no nos ha visto juntos, así que quién es usted para juzgar si nos queremos o no", said Isabella somewhat angrily.

That was the last thing he could use now, drama.

To be honest, he should have expected something like this, but of course he had not. He felt like he had just been hit in the gut.

He would like to slap himself just for thinking, that there was going to be no drama. Of course something like this had to happen.

The next thing he heard was a heavy door falling shut. Wilhelm could identify it to be one of the rooms ones.

Damn, Isabella probably went inside her room, Wilhelm only had a brief moment to decide between staying where he was, going to having to face Simon or just run away.

Well, not running away, rather escaping unnecessary tumult late at night. Before really thinking about the possible options, he found himself hurrying the stairs down as quiet as possible.

Why was Simon still at Hillerska this late?

First years, especially the non—res were supposed to leave after the official celebrations.

To worried about Simon seeing him, he pulled into the closest corridor. The Palaces exit was the other way, he was sure not to be found by the other one.

The footsteps he tried to escape, came down the stairs not long after him.

Should he approach him?

No, not now. The timing was horrible, maybe somewhen else when it was more fitting. He looked at his watch; well past midnight. Surely both of them were to tired to talk about something serious now. And to add to his argumentation, the other one had blocked out his attempt of communication with him. Why should he be willing to confront him now? He did not even respond to him after the funeral. Why would something have changed from then on?

He heard Simon leaving the building, but still, he decided to stay in his little hiding spot for a moment or two longer, just to be sure he really left.

The music of the celebrating was still very much audible.

Wilhelm wondered if someone had noticed him leaving. While the party was dedicated towards him, he had felt like the least important person in the room. People were dancing, having fun.

How could they?

Mere day earlier these people pretended to cry at his mothers — Funeral.

It was still hard to think about this day.

Most memories seemed to have vanished into nothing. It felt like he wasn’t even present. It felt like somebody had pressed the delete button of the passed days — only leaving tiny snippets behind. The memories had turned into a big black nothing. The only thing that was chrystal clear was the day after the funeral. How did he know it was the day after? Well, why else would there have been so many of his royal relatives at the palace.

The Spanish King had caught him completely off guard, when Wilhelm strolled around the palace in his pajamas. It was embarrassing, but he managed lo laugh it off. The arrangement of Isabella joining him at Hillerska had been beneficial to the relationship to the once skeptical King, who once deemed him to be unfit.

Jan-Olof had been the leading force of directing his actions in the last days. Everything was based on his plans for him. It removed a huge weight off his shoulders, but it felt like he was a prop in his own act.

That was what it is; an act.

He somewhat wished the council did not declare him to be king.

But he surely could not voice that opinion.

That might lead to the abolishment of what his ancestors had build and he had to protect.

His entire life he had not had even a tiny sense of duty, but he knew he had to develop an attitude of putting the crown above all.

King Wilhelm belongs to Sweden.

He went on to push himself away from the wall. Paying attention to not being seen, he looked around the corner; nobody was there, Simon was gone.

Wilhelm went on to step in the main corridor. Just like before, the corridor was empty. He proceeded to walk to the stairs. Should he go to his room, or take a stroll outside? The entrance outside was well lit and in a good amount of distance he saw Palace guards walking up and down.

Something in him wished he could experience a situation from the valentines day once again; accidentally meeting Simon outside, talking to him and eventually kissing him.

Just one kiss.

He would never admit that desire and tried to push away the fact that is very much present.

There was just no space for such desire.

Wilhelm shook his head and walked towards the stairs, but still, no-one of the security detail in sight. A thought crossed his mind — he could use the unsupervised moments for his advantage. He could do essentially anything right now. He could go out and enjoy having some time for himself, he could wander around the lake without footsteps five feet behind him, hell, he could even try to escape the round and eat a pizza in Bjärstad.

Were there any open pizza places that late at night? He’d love to know.

His thoughts immediately drifted off. Erik used to sneak out to commoner places like McDonalds or a cinema every now and then. However, after entering a repeated pattern of randomly disappearing right after school ended, the courtiers and secret service soon caught up with what was happening. Ever after that, their carefree joy was abolished by the black car following them. Not long after that, they were caught and photographed by ‘journalists’. That eventually lead to the abolishment of their own little tradition, which unfortunately became a public:’who can spot the two princes having fun while escaping the fact that they were princes and public figures from the day they were born’ hunt.

Quite ironic, isn’t it?

Now there was not even a slight chance of escaping that, ever again.

Right now, he could just…. NO

He was not going to do so.

The Crown above all, even his juvenile, temporary desires.

Just to be sure, he began walking up the stairs, pushing away what he wanted to do.

He arrived at his room, looking over at Isabellas room. He could tell that she was still awake by the light that streamed into the corridor from underneath the door. Had she heard him? To be honest, he did not want her to find out he had just arrived. She was nice and pretty and eligible and more suited and aristocratic and popular and….. there were so any ‘ands’ that spoke to her advantage, that he could barely list them. She was the perfect friend, maybe even with the word ‘girl-’ as a prefix.

That would make a lot of people very happy. Would it make him happy?

He went into his room and closed the door.

It did not feel like ‘his’ room. Just another unnecessary gesture to accommodate a King up to royal standards. He looked around the historical room. Just as lacking of personality as his rooms in the palaces. The old, ‘average’ boarding room was way more what he liked. Cozy, welcoming and decorated to his own liking, just the exact opposite to this one. He already missed the red lights and his frog pictures. Where had they put them? He was aware that his rooms things got transferred up here, but almost every personal item seemed to have vanished into nothing. Everything was gone.

This room felt like one straight out of a museum. Pretty much like his so called ‘homes’ in Stockholm, just even more unlikable. It was not something comfortable where he had his own little space, it was just another display of the legacy he had to carry on. The room was there to accommodate a King, not a Wille.

It was almost as if they tried to remind him with every corner of his life that he was no longer just Wille.

Chapter Text

He was wandering through the empty halls of Hillerska, once again, with his guards. Strangely, not one guard had been positioned in front of his room, or on the floor in general. Should he be worried, he asked himself jokingly. Just days ago he had been told that he was now going to be supervised every single hour of the day, with absolutely no exceptions. Apparently, that plan failed mere days after being set up.

Oh the irony, somebody could just kidnap him right now with one noticing. Or he could just run away… nono, not a good idea, they would find him. And he did not even know if the security services were so discret that he just did not notice them. Maybe he should look behind the plants or remove mirrors, surely he would find something. He giggled at the idea of Malin hiding behind a plant or Joakim disguising himself as a cleaner.

He should not giggle in public. It would look weird if the King of Sweden laughed at something non existent in an empty corridor. It would make horrible headlines.

The sound of the party had faded a long time ago. The corridors were quiet, the only audible sound being his footsteps. He passed te rooms the reception had been held in. Something told him to push the door open and look inside. He followed his impulses. The room was almost pitch black, with only the moonlight enlightening the dark. He looked around the room. Surprisingly, it looked at least somewhat clean, with just some champagne bottles and glasses standing around. He did not walk inside, afraid he would meet someone. With a soft ‘click’, he shut the door.

He turned around, still nobody in the corridor. Very well.

Mindlessly, he wandered around, not sure where, but his feet lead him somewhere.

Wilhelm walked the familiar halls of Hillerska, a foreign sense of freedom accompanying him. The absence of his security detail was both perplexing and oddly liberating. It felt like a rare chance to move without the ever-present eyes and ears that shadowed his every step.

But it felt wrong and weird.

The emptiness of the corridor beckoned him onward, his steps guided by an aimless drift, lost in his own thoughts. He continued, footsteps echoing faintly through the quiet passageways.

He walked and walked and suddenly he was outside the main building, walking over the damp grass. He had noticed it raining. Maybe it had not rained and this was just the typical spring fog, of which he did not know the name.

He found himself drawn to the familiar benches overlooking the serene lake. A familiar spot, usually teeming with laughter and chatter from other students, now lay silent and undisturbed. Wilhelm settled onto the bench, the wooden slats a comfort against his back. The placid waters of the lake stretched out before him, shimmering under the moon’s gentle glow.

Leaning back, he allowed himself a moment of respite, the cool evening air soothing his senses. The rustle of leaves and the distant call of an owl added to the tranquil ambiance. It was a rare moment of solace amidst the tumult of recent days. The scenery almost felt like out of a movie, maybe the first two parts of Harry Potter, back when Harry was still a young, innocent child, not knowing about the Dark Lord. Just like Harry, he was no longer the innocent child he once was. Now, life was serious, maybe even as grey and dark like the later movies. Will he have to fight a Dark Lord soon, as well? Or was he currently fight the Dark Lourd in a metaphorical sense. He saw the similarities, at least regarding the drabness of his life.

He fought in his own way, unable to form it into words. The loss of Erik, his Mother. Becoming King, loosing his boyfriend, being lonely…

He focused on the lake, once again.

He contemplated the vast expanse of water, its calm surface a stark contrast to the turbulence within him. Memories surged forth—fleeting moments of joy, snippets of laughter, and the warmth of family. Rowing with Simon, laughing with Simon. Is the water cold today? But they were quickly overshadowed by the weight of duty, the expectations imposed upon him by birthright.

His thoughts drifted to the recent upheaval in his life—the loss of his mother, the sudden ascent to the throne, and the relentless demands of his new role. The burden seemed insurmountable at times, suffocating his very being.

The twenty kilogram heavy backpack he carried around with him, in the form of a country that had been lied upon him was the heaviest burden one possibly could have to carry.

Despite the facade of royalty he often wore, Wilhelm longed for simplicity, for the freedom to be more than just the King of Sweden. He craved moments where he could shed the heavy cloak of sovereignty and simply exist as himself—void of titles, expectations, and protocols.

He glanced at the stars above, wondering if they, too, felt the weight of their luminescence, burdened by the expectations of guiding lost souls. Did they yearn for moments of anonymity, to simply twinkle without bearing the weight of cosmic significance?

The chill in the air penetrated his thoughts, and he huddled closer, seeking warmth in the solitude. His mind drifted to the echoes of voices, the subtle conversations he’d overheard earlier. The words of Isabella and Simon lingered, their discourse a haunting reminder of the complexities in relationships and the sacrifices demanded by duty.

“I felt like you would come here. I have never seen you sitting here, but I knew you would like this spot. Your father liked it was well. In fact, right on this bench we had our first kiss.”

His gaze shot up.

“I’m sorry, gubben, I did bot mean to scare you. I did not notice I needed to be softer with you than him, not until it was too late.”

Wilhelm kept staring as she sat down with a heavy sigh beside him. This was not true, it could not be.

“But you are so much like him. It is hard to admit, but I saw him in you. After his passing, you were my everything, but you were slipping away too. Right between my fingers and i was unable to close my hand. Even looking at you … it was scary. I’m sorry, I know how much you needed me to hug you, and now … it is too late.”

“You … you are here. Why did you do this to me! You let me, let us, let an entire nation grief an then you appear like this.”

She smiled sadly at the fact her son had not understood, yet: “Wille, gubben, I am not here, I am not real. I wish I could hug you, but I can’t. Not anymore, I’m sorry,” she smiled at him sadly, with glassy eyes, nearing tears.

Tears began rolling down his face. With a shaking voice he quietly answered: “I miss you, mom.”

“And I miss you as well. I came to tell you that I am proud of you.”

“I know that’s a lie.”

“It’s not. I should have told you more often that I am proud of you. I demanded so much from you, too much. But right now, you are showing me why I sometimes demanded a lot. You are doing so great gubben, and I know it’s hard. It was hard for me as well, becoming Queen when you were so young. I understand that it made me a horrible mother, but I hope you will forgive me. It horrible, knowing what I have done to you and not being able to show that I am sorry, in person. I know it would help you. You must hate me.”

“I love you, I should have said it, I don’t hate you. How could I?”

“I attempted to force you to be someone who you are not. You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be, Wille. I need to remember that. I wish you understand that. I was just attempting to protect the crown when I had to protect you. I’m sorry.”

“Being me means that I’m never allowed to feel, so I don’t. At least I attempt.”

“Oh darling, no, please, no. I know I ingratiated that into you, but I need you to forget that and forgive me for doing so. I know what you went through, what you are going through…”

She looked at him with a sorrow face, he looked away.

“No matter what you are going through, remember that I’m here, right with you.”

“You are with me?”

“We are. We are always with you, at least in your heart. Both your brother and I are devastated by the fact we cannot be with you physically,” she sighed: “I know it sound strange. I’ve just one request for you, on very last request. I will never burden you with one again. You are the last one Ludvig has left. He sadly learned this from me, but he tries to keep up a strong appearance for your sake. He understands the gravity of what has been put on your shoulders. He tries to stay strong for your sake. Please, be there for him or allow him to leave for two or three days. I think he needs to breath and I think a few days with his family will work wonders. Maybe you will join them as well. It might help you to confront yourself and your feelings as well. I do not want you to keep going as if it was nothing. Both of you bottled up your feelings and pushed them away, but please don’t do that. I don’t want to see you hurting. I’m sorry, just one last thing: talk to him.”

“Who?”

“You know who, Gubben.”

And then, with a blink of his eyes, she was gone.