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Authors: Kirsten Boie

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BOOK: The Princess Trap
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Now
Jenna was able to turn and run away.

N
ahira had gone
with Lorok in the rattling pickup. They’d avoided the roads and followed the forest tracks instead, and she was constantly surprised at how Lorok knew exactly where he had to turn off along the narrow paths, at how he coaxed the old vehicle and its protesting engine to get them up one slope, and then let it roll gently down another. Sometimes she had the feeling that he was even talking to it, as if it were alive.

At one point, where the tops of the trees thinned out and the undergrowth was particularly dense, Lorok let the truck coast into the bushes. Brambles scratched the dented hood, which had long since lost its polish after years of dusty roads and nights parked out in the rain.

“We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot,” Lorok said. “It’s too dangerous to drive from here on in.”

Hunched over, they hurried through the undergrowth, never once stepping onto a path. After just a few minutes, they could suddenly hear the roar of engines — loud and steady, as if from a highway, and the farther they went, the closer it came. “The north–south beltway,” said Lorok.

He has all the road maps in his head
, thought Nahira admiringly.
Amazing. I need directions just to find my way to the dentist!

“Now — can you hear it?”

Nahira stopped. She could now hear the engines of powerful tractor-trailers, and somewhere nearby they were pulling to a stop, with one final roar before the brakes screeched and the hydraulics wheezed to a standstill.

“What is it?” she asked.

Lorok put a finger to his lips and beckoned her to come closer. “The old concrete factory!” he whispered.

She peered through the bushes. Though it was difficult to make out from this distance, she could now see the hangars, each at least fifty feet high, with plenty of room between them for the trucks to maneuver. The factory dated back many years, to when quarters were being constructed on the outskirts of Holmburg to house the northerners arriving in increasing numbers to South Island in order to do the jobs that southerners found too dirty, too strenuous, or too low-paying. It was here that the slabs had been made for prefabricated housing projects that could be assembled like children’s building blocks. But when the influx of northerners had first been cut and then stopped altogether, the factory had been closed, and now it lay derelict, with weeds sprouting everywhere.

“So that’s what they’ve been doing,” whispered Nahira. “Stockpiling the goods of Scandia here!” One massive truck after another passed through the open gate only to disappear between the hangars. “Why did no one realize it before?”

“Maybe because no one was supposed to,” Lorok said bitterly. He turned to leave. “Because no one wanted to. Imagine how many more abandoned warehouses just like this, all across the country, are being piled high with Scandia’s goods as we speak? I think it’s time you updated your friends in the government.”

Nahira nodded. “But not from here,” she whispered.

On the drive back they did not speak. If Liron learned about this, it could change everything.

Jenna hurried across the lawn, farther and farther away from the party and from the summerhouse. Malena and Perry deserved to be left in peace. Nobody would disturb them there.

How could her mood change so completely in just a few seconds? Utter despair a moment ago, and now such happiness! Malena and Perry — their names sounded like music. Malena and Perry, not Malena and Jonas! How stupid she’d been!
Malena’s not in love with Jonas at all,
she thought.
Malena loves someone else, so I don’t have to keep trying to get over Jonas! Malena and Perry! And Jonas and …

She stopped by a bench overgrown with jasmine. The scent was sweet and heavy. The world was a beautiful place after all.

Then a note of caution sounded in her head. She sat down. She needed to think.

Malena being in love with Perry didn’t mean that Jonas wasn’t in love with Malena, she realized. The smell of the jasmine suddenly seemed cloying.
Don’t jump to conclusions
, she chided herself. It wasn’t Jonas kissing her, was it? And Malena didn’t actually kiss Perry, did she — at least not while she was watching?

Oh, stop it! Stop it!
Jenna thought in frustration.
Why do I always have to twist everything? I have a chance with Jonas!

She stood up. She had to suppress the urge to let out a cry of joy and twirl around in circles. Why had she been so nervous about this party?
I don’t care who talks to me
, she thought, and walked back across the lawn toward the crowds of guests.
Laugh at me all you like, snooty rich people! I’m Princess of Scandia, and no one can make me feel small. I may not be perfect, but I can learn. And as long as the things that matter work out, I’ll be fine.

Jonas.

He was standing with his back against a cedar tree, on his own. Jenna’s heart throbbed.

“Hi, Jonas,” she said. How simple it was. Maybe.

Jonas looked startled. “Oh, hi, Jenna,” he said. “I couldn’t find you anywhere.” He nodded miserably. “I couldn’t find anyone to talk to but boring old people. So I’ve been kind of blowing off the party.”

“Me, too,” said Jenna. It didn’t matter that she’d started blushing, as usual. Suddenly, it all seemed so simple. She was happy.

“And Perry’s disappeared, too,” said Jonas. “And Malena. What’s going on? I’ve been looking for both of them.”

Jenna shrugged. Would it be a betrayal if she told him? Maybe it should be Malena herself. Or Perry.

But since he was going to find out, anyway …

“They’re back there in the summerhouse,” she said softly. She looked down at the ground. She hadn’t given away too much. That was all right, wasn’t it?

“What?” asked Jonas in surprise.

Then again, maybe not.

Jenna shrugged her shoulders. Her face burned an even deeper shade of red. “They’re together, in the summerhouse,” she said.

Jonas stared at her. “Get out!” he whispered, and to her enormous relief Jenna saw a grin spreading across his face. The news hadn’t made him unhappy — not at all. “Malena and Perry?”

Jenna nodded.

Jonas punched his open left hand with his right fist. “So that’s what he’s been all hung up about!” he said. “I was wondering what his problem was! Malena and Perry — I wouldn’t have guessed that one!”

“You don’t mind?” Jenna ventured cautiously. “I mean, you and Malena …” She blushed all over again. Why did she have to keep doing that?

“What? No! It’s awesome!” said Jonas. “My two best friends! Things couldn’t have turned out better. Perfect!”

So he only thought of Malena as a friend. How could she have been so dumb? But she couldn’t let herself get carried away, either …

“I always sort of thought you and Malena …” she whispered. She must have been the color of an eggplant by now, but it didn’t matter. “You and Malena …”

She couldn’t look at him. But she didn’t have to. Jonas’s laugh was so happy that she didn’t need to see his face.

“No way!” he said. “Not Malena! She’s always been like a sister to me!” He stopped talking.

The silence between them was almost audible. It felt as if something was about to explode.

“Because …” murmured Jonas, and she didn’t know if he was looking at her, because she couldn’t bear to look at him. “… because — Malena’s not the only girl in the world. Because …” He took a step toward her.

And then the moment passed. Suddenly, Perry’s dad was standing beside them — Mom’s Petterson. Jenna hadn’t heard him, he’d approached so silently. He looked aggravated.

“Do either of you know where Perry is?” he asked. “I’ve been searching everywhere for him. When I saw you just now, I thought he might be with you.”

“Nope,” said Jonas, shaking his head and staring off into the distance.

Jenna shook her head, too.

And you can just go on searching, you pain in the pancreas!
thought Jenna.
Because as long as you keep looking, at least you won’t be hanging around my mother!
Then she felt her shoulders drop. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been.

“I’ve been searching everywhere,” Petterson said again. “He’s not inside, or by the rose garden, or in any of the summerhouses …”

Jenna looked up. “Really?” she blurted, caught off guard.

“No,” said Petterson. “But if you don’t know where he is, either …”

“Sorry, sir,” said Jonas. His voice sounded matter-of-fact again. “We’ve been standing here the whole time.”

“Well, I’ll just have to keep on searching,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure I’m worrying unnecessarily.”

“Hope you find him!” Jenna chimed in, smiling.
I can be just as two-faced as him
, she thought.
Worrying about your son? Doubtful!

Only when Petterson had hurried away across the lawn did Jonas look at her again.

“Now he’ll get his people to hunt for his own son,” he said, and cleared his throat. “Thus endeth the love scene in the love nest. Poor Perry. He’s totally avoiding his father ’cause he’s in a panic over being shipped off to military school.”

“But didn’t you hear what he said?” she asked. “Maybe Perry’s really gone.”

“Gone?” echoed Jonas. “Oh, right, because he’s not in the summerhouse.”

It’s over now
, thought Jenna.
That’s how fast a magic spell can end, no matter how gently you treat it.
And all because that clumsy oaf interrupted us.
Malena’s not the only girl in the world,
Jonas had said. And it was Jonas who had blushed. If Petterson hadn’t butted in — if they’d had just one more minute. But now it was over. Now all Jonas could think about was Perry and where he might be.

“It is kind of weird, isn’t it?” said Jonas. He didn’t look at her. “I’d better go see if I can find him before his dad does.”

Jenna nodded. “Oh, definitely,” she said.

As he went to leave, Jonas suddenly reached out his hand toward her, in a gesture of … what? Jenna didn’t know. But then he quickly drew it back, as if he’d just realized what he’d done, and began to run. After a few steps, he turned and waved to her. His face was bright red.

“See you soon!” he called, telling himself he hadn’t totally blown his cover.

A
fter the first assault
on the buffet and the first round of conversation, von Thunberg had asked them to go with him to the hunting room. The walls were covered with trophies that generations of the family had brought home from the hunt: stuffed heads of boar; a collection of roebuck horns arranged like a kind of mosaic; the spreading antlers of a fourteen-pointer; even a lion’s head with a magnificent mane, from the von Thunbergs’ safaris in Africa.

Four glass-fronted cabinets, one on each wall of the room, contained brightly polished hunting weapons dating back more than three hundred years. Between them hung paintings of traditional hunting scenes.

“Whiskey, anyone?” asked von Thunberg, opening the one cabinet with solid wooden doors. “Gin? I also have sherry for you, Your Royal Highness.”

His three guests all shook their heads in silence. Petterson, who had temporarily given up the hunt for his son, leaned on the heavy oak table in the center of the room; Liron stood by the window overlooking the garden, gazing down at the party guests and the grounds, where his son was just waving to Jenna as he left her; Princess Margareta was still standing near the doorway.

“Did anyone get hold of the king?” Von Thunberg’s eyes went from Petterson to Liron to Margareta.

“What can Magnus do about it?” asked Liron. He raised his eyebrows almost as high as his hairline. “We’ve taken every safety measure a country can possibly take …”

“Except calling in the military!” von Thunberg stated. “I’m not allowed to mobilize my men, even though for decades it’s worked perfectly well.”

“Perfectly well?” repeated Princess Margareta. “Von Thunberg! This is now a free country!”

“But when it was under our control at least it was free of smugglers!” von Thunberg exclaimed. “And now every illegal substance you can think of is being brought in, to ruin our youth and, worst of all, to provide the rebels with more than enough money to stock their own arsenals! How can you all stay so calm? They blew up the pylons …”

“… so that Magnus couldn’t give his speech,” said Princess Margareta.

“… though everything’s almost back to normal again,” Liron countered.

“… except the oil pipeline, and now they’ve compromised border security! We thought — and Magnus tried to convince everyone — that if the reforms went through and the north was made equal to the south, the rebels would withdraw and we wouldn’t need to fight them anymore. No civil war! But look how wrong we were!”

“Magnus never said it would be easy,” said the princess. “Never. He knew the transition would bring plenty of new problems.”

“Problems!” cried von Thunberg. “You call it problems, Your Highness, when a whole country is starving?”

Liron came away from the window. “I didn’t notice anyone starving at your party today, von Thunberg.”

“And maybe you didn’t notice the pipeline being blown up, either!” von Thunberg retorted. “Or Holmburg’s disrupted electricity supply! Or the fact that our customs men were seized by masked bandits at Scandia’s largest airport this very day and locked up in a janitor’s closet!”

Petterson laughed, and von Thunberg spun around to glare at him.

“I’d like to know what you think there is to laugh at!” he snapped.

“There’s something funny about the whole idea — you must admit it, Thunberg,” said Petterson. “The janitor’s closet, I mean. When I picture it …”

“Peter!” said Princess Margareta, shaking her head.

“We can’t wait any longer!” von Thunberg said, resuming his argument. “The new constitution still gives the king the right to call in the military in the event of a national crisis.”

“There’s no way you can call the current situation a national crisis,” said Liron.

Petterson glanced at von Thunberg.

“Well, I’d say …”

At that moment a cell phone rang. They all listened for a second to see if the ringtone was theirs, then Liron reached into his jacket pocket. “Yes?” he asked, turning away from the group. “For heaven’s sake, Carlson, surely you can manage that without me being there!”

He went to the window, an angry scowl on his face.

“No, don’t make a big deal about it. It’s just some silly kids’ prank. It’s not likely to start raining on the way back!”

On the other end of the phone, the talk was fast and furious.

“I really haven’t got time now for such kids’ stuff, Carlson!” snapped Liron. “Fix it, and if you can’t, it’s not the end of the world.” He flipped the phone shut. “My driver,” he explained to the room, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry. He was in something of a state. Someone’s broken the windshield wipers on the car.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll be blaming
that
on the terrorists, will you, Thunberg?” said Petterson. “Even if it is the Minister of the Interior’s car.”

Von Thunberg gave him a withering look.

“I suggest, General,” said Princess Margareta, nodding as if to indicate that as far as she was concerned it marked the end of the discussion, “that we talk this over again soon, together with my brother. At the moment, the situation does not seem to me to be so critical as to warrant missing the rest of your delightful party.”

“Well said, Your Highness,” said Petterson with a satirical little bow.

“Thank you, kind sir,” said Margareta.

On his way out, Liron laid a comforting hand on von Thunberg’s arm.

Von Thunberg shook it off. “If you can’t see what’s happening … you’ve only yourselves to blame,” he said angrily.

Perry walked up to the main house. The estate was likely to be crawling with guards. He’d seen men with submachine guns near the gate. But they would mainly be watching out for people trying to get in. The rebels wouldn’t often get the chance to find all the country’s VIPs gathered in one place.

When he reached the house, he went around the corner to the servants’ entrance. The guards would not be particularly interested in what came out of there. If he was smart, it shouldn’t be too difficult.

He smiled.
Nothing could be too difficult now
, he thought
— absolutely nothing.
The hardest part of all was now behind him, and how easy it had turned out to be! Why hadn’t he dared to do it earlier? “Did you really think I didn’t like you?” Malena had said, as if he’d been a fool ever to imagine otherwise.

In the little yard in front of the stables there was a large truck with a tarp roof — probably for tables, chairs, and awnings — a laundry van, and several minibuses. There were also several large wire bins on wheels, like the ones they used at school for the dirty linen.

Perry leaned against the wall of the house. Apart from a man putting down a tray, the backyard was empty. The waiters were obviously circulating among the guests. The man left. Now was his chance. He went over to one of the big wire bins.

He had no idea where he would end up — presumably in a laundromat somewhere — or what he would do when he got there. But it had to be worth trying. One step at a time. Anything was better than the military academy. And after all, wasn’t today his lucky day?

He pushed the bin onto the lift of the laundry van. If he was going to hide in it, he didn’t want anyone wondering why it was so heavy till he was well clear of the place. He pressed a button inside the van, and with a low hum the lift raised the container.

When he heard footsteps approaching, he pushed the bin up against two others at the far end of the van as quickly as he could. He buzzed the lift down again, crept to the bin, climbed in, and pulled the soiled tablecloths over his head. His heart was thumping, but nobody came.

Malena understood why he had to run away. “You’ve got no choice,” she’d whispered. “Once you’re gone, maybe your father will realize how much it matters to you! Then he’ll let you be and forget about his stupid military academy.” Then she had sat there with him, cheek to cheek. “And I’ll wait for you,” she said. “It’ll be really romantic, just like in the movies! Everything will be OK.”

He heard more footsteps in the yard, and huddled down under the linens. Malena was right. Everything would be OK.

Jonas jogged gently across the lawn, wending his way between the guests. He didn’t care when some of them turned to look at him — he’d long ago learned not to take any notice.

But where could Perry have gone? Had something really happened to him? And why had he left Jenna and rushed off like that, joining the search like an idiot, as if he believed Perry might really have disappeared or been kidnapped?

He slowed down. The sounds from the party were muffled now.

Jenna!
he thought.
I was just about to … and then I didn’t. At least Perry’s dad saved me from making a complete fool of myself.

He looked over his shoulder. Was she still standing in the same spot? Maybe he should go back. He was such a coward! Perry had done it, even with all his shyness and hang-ups — Jonas would never have guessed he’d have the guts — while he himself had chickened out and run away at the first chance.

OK
, he vowed,
if she’s still standing there when I turn around, I’ll go back. No matter how stupid it looks or what she thinks of me, I’ll just do it. Bite the bullet. Ask her out right now …

He scanned the lawn; she was nowhere to be seen.

OK!
thought Jonas.
So it won’t be today. Plan B: I’ll see her tomorrow at school. Maybe when we go running. I’ll get there really early and wait for her. Where’s the best place, so none of the guards at the fence can see us?

Behind a clump of trees he came to the summerhouse. He had to admit it was a seriously romantic spot. Props to Perry for thinking of it! Maybe they
were
still there. Maybe old man Petterson had simply missed the place. Climbing roses practically covered the glassless windows and the doorway. Jonas poked his head inside and ducked under a hanging branch to enter the little room. The air smelled of fading paint, and the waxed wooden floorboards were shining. He sat down on the wraparound bench.

Tomorrow, then
, he thought, and leaned his head back against the wood.
I’ll definitely do it tomorrow.

A dark shadow suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“Ylva!” he said in surprise, sitting up straight.

“Oh, hi, Jonas!” she whispered, as if she hadn’t noticed him before. “You’re in here! I thought …” She stopped midsentence and looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

“What?” asked Jonas. He could really do without this on top of everything else.

Ylva looked helpless, standing there in front of him with drooping shoulders and bent head — helpless and fragile in a way he’d never seen before. Ylva was strong, everyone knew that — strong and self-confident. She was captain of the field hockey team, and the toughest player on the lacrosse team, too. But now she stood there like some lost little girl, and through the western window the last rays of the sun were falling on her long blonde hair, lighting it up like spun gold.

“Oh, nothing,” she murmured. “It’s just that — it’s all kind of overwhelming, you know? All those people. The noise. I was just looking for somewhere quiet to get away.”

“Uh, me, too,” Jonas bluffed. What other reason could he give for sitting there all alone in the summerhouse?

Ylva sat down beside him. A delicate scent, a bit like lemon, joined the smell of roses and paint. It was coming from Ylva’s hair. “Do you mind if I sit here with you for a while?” she asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah, no problem,” said Jonas, itching to get up and out of there. But he knew it wouldn’t have been kind to leave her on her own after she had just appeared, looking so unhappy and so vulnerable and so totally un-Ylva-like. He didn’t get it — the party wasn’t
that
bad. And it was her house, after all!

He didn’t know what to say, and the silence between them became more and more prolonged. It was a different kind of silence from the one between him and Jenna.

Suddenly, Ylva looked up, as if she’d just made a decision. “Jonas!” she whispered, and at that moment he understood.
Oh my God
, he thought,
this can’t be happening
. But he knew what was coming even before she said it. Maybe it
had
been the same kind of silence after all. “Jonas, I …”

BOOK: The Princess Trap
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