The queen’s eyes travel over me. “I did not expect you to think so small, Elliot.”
I don’t know what she means by that, but I have another argument ready. “She picked Grimstad.”
“Did she?” Stellan looks at his wife thoughtfully.
“Yes,” I practically growl. “She did.”
“She gave in too easily,” Ingrid says.
“Easily?” I scoff, staring at the pair of them like I’m seeing them for the first time. They may be a king and queen, but they’re really just flawed human beings like everyone else. “You think any of that waseasyfor her? She’s only had time to think about the proposal for aweek, on top of figuring out a campaign she wasn’t prepared for, all to try to earn the one thing she’s wanted her whole life, and then someone goes and shoots ather and reminds her that until she has an heir, the entire way of life for her country is at risk unless one of your sons sacrifices his life the way she did, which she would never expect them to do because she’s the most selfless person I’ve ever known.”
Suddenly her voice is in my head, words spoken in a whisper that made me feel more alive than I had in over a year when she first spoke them.Let me have this moment for myself.Seconds before she asked me to kiss her. The one time she was selfish, and she went above and beyond, stealing my heart from my chest and refusing to give it back.
“Freya’s not going to change her mind,” I say when neither monarch responds to my rant. Surely they know that.
My phone buzzes, and I slip it from my pocket to see a text from Derek, asking if I can meet him at the outer gates. Either he found something or he has a plan, and the distraction will be nice. Maybe I’ve lost the love of my life, but there’s a good chance I’m gaining a brother through all of this.
Sighing, I return my focus to Ingrid and Stellan. “She made her choice. Now I have to make mine.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Freya
IcanadmitthatI enjoy a good party now and then, and the Celestial Ball was always a favorite of mine when I was a girl. As a celebration of Candora’s formation, when the many warring clans met together under the midnight sky and agreed to peace under the rule of the first Alverra king, this ball has been a tribute to our history since the beginning. A way to look back at our past written in the stars and see how far we have come.
But tonight feels different.
I have been greeting guests and dodging questions for the last hour, and I finally have a moment to myself thanks to my mother pulling the Duke of Rensvik into a conversation after he cornered me to talk about the Equine Festival again. I think she could see my patience ready to snap, and I am grateful to her for rescuing me.
She has been very…sweet…to me since our conversation this morning. Enough so that I am more suspicious than relieved, like she knows something I do not. I thought she would be happy with my decision—marrying Markham is what she would have done in my situation—but every time our gazes meet, there seems to be a sort of sadness behind her eyes. She is making me nervous, even though she assured me everything was ready for me to announce my intentions with Markham.
Playing with the crescent-shaped silver cuff on my wrist, I use my brief reprieve to look out over the ballroom. Whoever planned this year’s event, they have certainly outshone years past, and there is so much to admire. My gaze starts at the top, drawn to the canopy of twinkling lights strung overhead, but it is the sparkling chandelier that always takes center stage. It was designed to mimic the night sky and its constellations, and I spent hours as a young girl trying to map them all, mesmerized by the way each crystal catches the light.
Deep blue banners emblazoned with the Candoran and Alverra crests and a smattering of silver-threaded stars line the walls, and all of the windows and doors on the east side of the room are open to the night. A small orchestra in the corner plays Candora’s more traditional ballroom songs, while nobles and politicians and notable figures mingle and dance in their finery. The air is heavy with the fragrance of roses and hyacinth and the fresh scent of the lake beyond the terrace. Something else too. It smells like the end of summer.
The end of my world as I know it.
The Celestial Ball marks a time of remembrance and tradition, but it also heralds growth and change. Change for the better, I hope.
I fiddle with my cuff again. I made the right choice.
“Are you calculating if you can run?” A nudge at my elbow pulls my eyes to my brother next to me. He is looking at me with an amused smile, and while the twins in tuxes are nearly impossible to tell apart, I am certain this is Sander.
I smooth my hand along my sparkling midnight-blue gown, hoping to hide my nerves. “Not unless you think I need to. Mum already rescued me from Rensvik.”
We both look over at our mother, whose unbreakable exterior is beginning to crack as the duke regales her with talk of who knows what. She should have brought Dad with her when she glided across the ballroom to get to me; he can sit and listen to practically anyone while remaining unfailingly polite.
Sander’s eyes drift to the two guards standing a few meters behind me. “No Elliot tonight?”
“No.” Despite what he told my mother this morning about staying by my side, I have not seen Elliot since I left him with my parents, and I am worried. Rothesby, one of my guards for the day, said Elliot has been dealing with a problem and not to worry, but his reassurance did little to comfort me.
“Where is Hex?” I ask to keep my thoughts from getting stuck on my bodyguard. “I have barely seen him tonight.” In truth, I have barely seen anyone aside from the endless stream of nobles hoping to add their voices to the chorus of well-wishes and scandalized fear mongering. I have been quite occupied. For the most part, that has been intentional.
It is harder to be nervous when I have no time to think.
Sander grunts and nods to the middle of those dancing a traditional Candoran country dance. “Agent Storme is here tonight, so I would imagine he’s hiding from her.”
“Is there some history there that I don’t know about?”
