Should I have told her as soon as Markham proposed? Yes. Not only is she my queen, but she is my mother. An offer of marriage, particularly on the eve of an election that will change the course of my life, is not something to hide. But I did. As far as I know, there are only five people—my friends excluded—who even know about the proposal, so I ask again. “How?”
“One of the staff heard you and Derek talking this morning,” Dad says, offering a sympathetic smile. “I thought you would remember that the walls have ears, dear.”
There were two palace guards in the room with me. Was it one of them who opened his big mouth? I suppose it hardly matters because my father is right, and I should have been more careful.
Feeling even more like a child than when I walked in here, I drop my head. “I was going to tell you.”
“When?” Mum says, her tone sharp. “As you were marching to the courthouse?”
“I haven’t accepted him yet,” I snap back.
“For heaven’s sake, why not?”
I lift my head to stare at her, once again certain that I heard her wrong. “What?”
Mum sighs more heavily this time, glancing at Dad as if to gain strength from the sight of him alone. When that fails, she reaches for his hand and holds it tight. “What are the terms of his proposal?”
“I…” I am too confused by her last question to answer this one.
Mum looks behind me.
“He offered to step back,” Elliot says, hesitation in his words. “To let Freya become the elected monarch. As her husband, he gives the people a common voice without disrupting the nature of Candora’s government.”
“I have not accepted him,” I say again. Why is Elliot speaking as if I have?
“Which could be seen as foolish on your part,” Mum says, shaking her head at me. “Markham Grimstad has given you a way to ensure your victory, and you are questioning it?”
“Questioning a marriage to a man I do not know?” I reply. “Yes! Of course!”
“You are aprincess, Freya. You have always known your duty.” Her eyes slide to Elliot again, and her brow furrows, as if she is only now remembering the conversation we had over the phone a few days ago. “What is your opinion of this, Mr. Reid?”
Do not ask him that, I silently beg her.Do not answer that, I beghim.
No matter what he says, someone is not going to like the answer.
Though I do not look at him, I can almost feel Elliot’s discomfort. “This really isn’t my place,” he says gruffly.
“I am asking you anyway,” Mum replies. “You were clearly there when Grimstad proposed, and you have spent the last two weeks at my daughter’s side. Since she cannot tell me why she is hesitating, perhaps you can.”
“I won’t speak for her, Your Majesty.”
Thank you.
“But politically, a union makes the most sense. Grimstad’s reasoning was that the country is divided, and he’s not wrong. Especially now. If the princess wanted to secure her place on the throne, this would be the best way to do it.”
“The princesshas her own opinions,” I say, and the words taste like ice. I refuse to look back at my bodyguard after thinking he would be on my side.
Now I understand why Derek was so certain I could not discuss the matter with Elliot. What I donotunderstand is how Elliot’s opinion changed so thoroughly. When Grimstad first proposed, Elliot was so against the idea that he shouted at me in the streets of Havenford. After the moments we shared in Wulfric’s cabin—even out in the corridor only a minute ago—I never would have thought Elliot would encourage me to take Grimstad’s hand.
I know as well as he does that the law prevents him from being an option, but… My heart seems to turn to stone in my chest as that thought becomes clear in my mind, perhaps for the first time.Elliot was never going to be a choice I could make. No matter how much I want him, I can never have him.
He knows this.
Maybe this is his way of letting me go. Telling me that the battle to be together is not one worth fighting.
“We know this is a big decision,” Dad says, and his gentle voice settles like a warm blanket around me. “You are a lot older than we were when we were married, so the decision must feel even bigger. But a political marriage is not always so bad, and you could do far worse than Markham Grimstad. Look at how things turned out for your mother and me. We knew nothing about each other before our betrothal, and yet love grew between us.”
With my heart aching over a loss I did not realize I would experience today, I glance between my parents and smile despite everything. The way they look at each other… Even my stern and stoic mother softens when she meets her husband’s eyes. “Dad, you are the gentlest man in existence and have the kindest heart. How could she not love you? Markham may be kind, but he is not like you.”
