Vitte. I resist the urge to press a hand to my racing heart as I stare up at him. “Does that include you?”
His lips tick up in a tiny smile. “Depends on the situation.” He really does look so much like Derek. Not in coloring, but in the cut of his jaw and strength of his features. It almost makes him seem familiar. Perhaps Derek was right, and Elliot is the perfect man for the job.
I will not admit as much out loud. Not in a million years. Yet Elliot seems to hear my thoughts as his smile shifts into a smirk. Am I truly so easily read, or does he know exactly what he is?
“Shall I leave the two of you alone?” Hex asks, still laughing as he rises and brushes dirt from the seat of his trousers.
I do not realize how close Elliot is standing until he takes a step back, and suddenly I can breathe again. “I too take my job seriously,” I say, ignoring my brother’s insinuation. “And I need to fix things. I need to show my people they can trust me.”
“Mum’s never going to let you out again,” Hex says.
But Elliot’s smirk grows, leaving him looking almost mischievous.
When he says nothing, I ask, “What is it you are thinking, Mr. Reid?”
He snorts a laugh, far too amused for my liking. “I knew you’d come around.”
I cannot help but smile as well. “In this instance only, I would like your opinion.”
“You know you could have asked me, right?”
“For your opinion? I believe I just did.”
Chuckling, he shakes his head. “No, I mean you could have asked me to go into the city. I would have taken you.”
Warmth splashes across my face, mixed with an icy edge of regret that leaves me uncomfortable.I could have asked him. My humility can come with some trust as well. I have been wrong about Elliot in every instance thus far, so perhaps it would be better for me to stop assuming I know him and start letting him show me who he really is.
“You are right,” I admit quietly. “I should have asked.”
“I’m glad you agree, because the same is true for the queen.”
Another guffaw of laughter escapes me. “You may have her trust, Mr. Reid, but that does not mean you have any sway over her. My mother rarely changes her mind.”
“I changedyourmind, didn’t I?”
Yes, he did, and I have no idea how. I came down here to apologize, and somehow I have accepted him as my bodyguard and decided to trust him. “Yes, well, I am not my mother.”
His gaze turns scrutinizing, but not in a bad way. He almost seems to be committing me to memory as his eyes trail over me. I cannot tell if he approves of what he sees, and it bothers me to no end that I want him to. “No, you’re not your mother,” he says. “That’s a good thing. And fortunately for you, the queen has already agreed to let you campaign, so leaving the palace will be easier than you think.”
My jaw drops, and Hex looks just as shocked as he stares at Elliot with wide eyes. “What?” I gasp.
With one final smirk, Elliot lets his arms fall and heads toward the palace doors. “We leave in four days,” he calls back, “so you’d better start planning some speeches.”
Ironically, this might be the first time in my life that I am completely speechless.
Chapter Seven
Elliot
It’sagoodthingGregor handled most of the logistics because there’s no way I would have thought of everything required for a campaign trail like this. Cooks, stylists, an EMT, and several other palace employees are on the roster, people I wouldn’t have considered. I can handle basic security, but I would have planned transport time around the speed of the cars. Not the speed of the horses we’re bringing with us.Horses. One of the cities we’re visiting doesn’t have roads capable of accommodating vehicles, so everything will be brought into those locations by coach, and most of the guards are on horseback.
Which means instead of half an hour’s drive to Breckenholt, our first stop, I’m stuck in this car with Freya for two hours because Gregor won’t let me split up the caravan.Two. Hours.I’m not made for sitting still like this, and the princess is starting to notice.
She’s sitting across from me in the extended town car the royal family uses, her focus on a tablet, but every minute or so she looks up, and her smile grows a little more, as if she knows how desperate I am to be out riding with the princes instead of in here.
An hour into the drive, she clicks her tablet off and sets it on the seat next to her. “You seem nervous, Mr. Reid.”
I’ve been working on keeping my knee from bouncing, which wouldn’t exactly give off the confident, put-together image I want to convey. “I’m fine,” I mutter. I would be less anxious if I were facing forward and could see where we’re going, but Freya took the forward-facing seat.
