When Marius Borg Høiby rises to his feet in courtroom 250 at Oslo District Court on Tuesday morning, the moment will mark the start of one of the most consequential criminal trials in modern Norwegian history. It will also unfold in near-total isolation from the royal family that has defined much of his life.
Neither his mother, Crown Princess Mette-Marit, nor his stepfather, Crown Prince Haakon, will be present. Nor will King Harald V or Queen Sonja. For the next seven weeks, the 29-year-old—whose life has unfolded in the shadow of the Norwegian monarchy—will face a sweeping criminal indictment alone, accused of crimes so serious that, if proven, could result in a prison sentence exceeding a decade.
The court has imposed a strict ban on photography both inside and outside the courtroom, eliminating the visual spectacle that often accompanies trials involving prominent figures. Yet the absence of images has not dampened global interest. Media organizations from across Europe and beyond have descended on Oslo, while the royal palace has deliberately kept its distance, offering carefully calibrated statements but no visible show of support.
At the center of the case is a man the palace insists is not a public figure—and not a member of the royal family—yet who has long been perceived by the Norwegian public as intimately connected to it.
Marius Borg Høiby faces 38 criminal charges, a number that underscores the extraordinary scope of the case. The most serious include four counts of rape, multiple allegations of sexual assault, violent assault against a former girlfriend, threats, vandalism, drug possession, and traffic offences.
The indictment alleges a pattern of violence and coercion extending over several years. According to prosecutors, Høiby physically assaulted a former partner, punched and kicked her, choked her, and destroyed property inside her apartment. He is accused of tearing down a chandelier, shattering a mirror, and throwing a knife into a wall while verbally abusing her with degrading language.
Høiby has admitted to some of the lesser offences, including physical violence and destruction of property. However, through his legal team, he has denied the most serious allegations—particularly those involving sexual violence.
“Høiby is absolutely taking the accusations very seriously,” his defence lawyer Petar Sekulic has said in a previous statement, “but does not acknowledge any wrongdoing in most of the cases—especially those relating to sexual abuse and violence.”
The four rape charges span a period from 2018 to November 2024 and involve four different women. One allegation dates back to 2018 and is said to have occurred at Skaugum, the official residence of Crown Prince Haakon and Crown Princess Mette-Marit. Another, from 2023, involves intercourse while the woman was asleep.
Under Norwegian law, sexual activity with a person who is asleep or otherwise incapacitated constitutes rape. Prosecutors allege that all four incidents involved women who were unable to consent.
Three of the four women are expected to testify anonymously. The fourth, former girlfriend and social media influencer Nora Haukland, sought anonymity but lost her appeal in court. Her public allegations following Høiby’s arrest form a central part of the prosecution’s case.
Haukland has alleged that Høiby subjected her to repeated violence, including punching her in the face, kicking her, choking her, and verbally abusing her. These claims are firmly denied by the defence.
Beyond the rape charges, the court will also examine allegations involving drugs, including a charge added only last month accusing Høiby of transporting 3.5 kilograms of marijuana—an accusation his lawyers also contest.
For many observers, the trial represents an unprecedented crisis for Norway’s monarchy.
“This is the biggest scandal the Norwegian royals have ever had to deal with,” says Niklas Kokkinn-Thoresen, editor-in-chief of celebrity magazine Se og Hør. Along with colleague Ulf Andre Andersen, he broke the initial story in August 2024 after police responded to reports of a violent incident at an apartment in Oslo’s affluent Frogner district.
“They’ve never faced anything of this magnitude,” Kokkinn-Thoresen says.
Andersen describes the moment as perilous for the institution itself. “It’s a very dangerous moment,” he says. “The royal family should be role models. That expectation is deeply rooted in Norwegian society.”
While the trial places intense scrutiny on Høiby, journalists and advocates stress that the women involved face an equally daunting ordeal.
“A few of the victims are well-known influencers,” says journalist Torgeir Krokfjord, who co-authored a book examining Høiby’s alleged links to Norway’s drug scene. “But most of them are just regular young women who now must endure weeks of having the most intimate experiences of their lives examined in front of hundreds of journalists.”
He adds: “Just imagine how painful that will be.”
The courtroom proceedings are expected to include extensive testimony, forensic evidence, and digital records. Prosecutors aim to establish a consistent pattern of abusive behavior, while the defence is expected to challenge both credibility and context.
Crown Prince Haakon, who has long described Høiby as a son, broke his silence ahead of the trial with a brief but emotional statement.
“We love him, of course. He is an important part of our family,” the crown prince told reporters. He then addressed the alleged victims directly. “We care about them. We know many of you are going through a very difficult time.”
The statement captured the impossible position facing the royal family: publicly acknowledging compassion for victims while privately grappling with the potential criminal conviction of a close family member.
King Harald V and Queen Sonja, both 88, will also not attend the trial. During the opening week they are scheduled to travel to Italy for the Winter Olympics, where they will meet Norwegian athletes. The palace has framed the trip as routine and long-planned.
Crown Princess Mette-Marit’s absence is perhaps the most emotionally charged. She is suffering from pulmonary fibrosis, a serious and potentially fatal lung disease, and is currently being prepared for a possible lung transplant.
Though she appeared in public last week alongside her husband, observers noted her labored breathing. Her health, palace sources say, now overshadows everything else.
In a documentary aired over Christmas by public broadcaster NRK, Mette-Marit spoke candidly about her son’s struggles with substance abuse and mental illness, which he has said have plagued him since childhood.
“What I’m perhaps most upset about,” she said, “is being criticised for how we’ve handled it as parents. That we haven’t taken it seriously. We’ve tried to do the best we can and sought professional help. To be judged so harshly feels unfair.”
Her remarks drew sympathy but also reignited debate over whether the royal household did enough to set boundaries for a young man growing up alongside privilege but without a formal role.
Tove Taalesen, royal correspondent for Nettavisen and a former palace employee, believes the roots of the crisis stretch back decades.
When Crown Prince Haakon married Mette-Marit in 2001, he famously lifted four-year-old Marius onto the palace balcony, presenting him to the nation.
“He wanted to include Marius,” Taalesen says. “But at the same time, they gave him no title, no defined role. He became someone who was very much part of the family, yet officially outside it. That ambiguity followed him into adulthood.”
The palace has repeatedly emphasized that Høiby holds no royal title and receives no public funding. Yet his lifelong proximity to the crown has made complete separation impossible in the public mind.
The trial comes amid a string of recent controversies for the royal house. Crown Prince Haakon’s sister, Princess Märtha Louise, sparked debate with her marriage to American self-styled shaman Durek Verrett. Though she agreed to relinquish her princess title for commercial activities, the couple later angered palace officials by participating in a Netflix documentary about their wedding.
More recently, newly released files linked to convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein have reignited scrutiny of Mette-Marit’s past associations. Documents show she stayed at Epstein’s Palm Beach residence for four nights in January 2013, while he was not present, and that she met him several times between 2011 and 2013.
Emails attributed to her royal account include informal and affectionate language. In response, the palace stated that the crown princess had long been open about the meetings and expressed “deep sympathy and solidarity” with Epstein’s victims, acknowledging her “poor judgement” and calling the episode “simply embarrassing.”
Despite the accumulation of negative headlines, Norway’s monarchy remains broadly popular. A Norstat poll conducted late last year found that 73% of Norwegians continue to support the institution.
Many appear willing to separate the actions of an individual from their overall view of the royal family. Yet analysts warn that patience is not unlimited.
Last week, Princess Ingrid Alexandra—second in line to the throne—undertook a highly publicized visit to Finnmark in northern Norway. While the palace insists the tour was planned long in advance, some royal watchers believe its timing was deliberate.
“She represents the future,” one commentator noted. “And the palace knows it must remind people of that.”
On Tuesday, as Høiby’s trial begins, Norway’s parliament, the Storting, will also hold its regular four-yearly vote on whether to replace the monarchy with a republic. No one expects the motion to succeed. But the coincidence is hard to ignore.
Courtroom 250 will be the stage on which deeply personal allegations are examined in painstaking detail. The outcome will determine not only the fate of Marius Borg Høiby, but may also shape public trust in Norway’s most enduring institution.
