“You could call me Freya.”
“I could,” he agrees, which does not sound promising. He is likely to concoct his own nickname for me, and I am not certain I trust anything he might come up with.
Besides, he shared some of his inner self with me during the drive this morning. I owe him part of me.
“My friends call me Peach.”
“Why?”
I look out the window once more, smiling as I remember the first day I met Liam Connolly. He was the newest addition to Derek’s carefully curated group of friends, joining us only a few years ago. Despite being quite famous himself at the time—Liam is a veritable music genius—he was nervous to meet me and called me Princess Peach instead of Freya. “My friend Liam says I resemble the princess in a popular video game,” I explain with a small laugh.
“I can see it.”
I turn to him in surprise. He does not seem the type to have played video games as a child. “Can you?”
“Appearance-wise, sure, but you don’t strike me as a damsel in distress.” Elliot’s eyes trail over my hair, making me all too aware that it has been years since I left it down like this in public. Leaving even half of it loose this way makes me feel like I no longer have part of my armor, and I am vulnerable. After a moment, his gaze shifts over my shoulder, to the town square outside, and I can breathe again. “They’re eating out of the palm of his hand, aren’t they?”
Grimstad laughs at something, his gaggle of admirers joining in. I do not see Hex anymore, and it looks like most of the palace guards have taken up their posts around the inn, leaving Grimstad full control of the square. The people of Breckenholt look far more welcoming of my opponent than they were of me, which does not make for a promising start to my campaign.
“He is younger than I expected,” I say, frowning as Grimstad does a playful and complicated handshake with a young man.
“He’s only thirty-five. Just a couple of years older than you, which is part of his platform.”
I turn my head in surprise. “How do you know that?”
Still gazing out the window, Elliot shrugs. “I got the same dossier you did.”
“Yes, but knowing these things about Grimstad is not part of your job.”
“Isn’t it? Grimstad is in direct opposition to you and poses a threat.”
“Politically, maybe, but not physically.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Elliot’s eyes drop to me, and we seem to realize at the same time that we are standing rather close to each other. Close enough that I catch a hint of his clean scent and notice a ring of honey at the edge of his brown eyes. He takes a step back, tucking his arms behind him as he murmurs, “A threat is a threat.” His lips twist up. “I take my job very seriously.” His echo from the courtyard the other day brings back the memory of how he overpowered my unbeatable brother.
That is something I would not mind witnessing again. Have I lost my mind if I almost hope for some sort of danger to befall me while I am away from Invem? Perhaps, but I would like to see what Elliot is capable of.
“I am well aware of your dedication, Elliot,” I say, my voice breathier than I mean it to be.
His smile grows.
“You’re going to have to change your strategy,” Hex says as he steps through the open door. “They love him.”
I groan. “Do not tell me that, Hex.”
He shrugs as he joins us at the window to look out, an arm around each of our shoulders. “It’s the truth. If I wasn’t already convinced you need to be out here learning about the day-to-day life of an average Candoran, I would be now.”
“Speeches aren’t going to do you any good,” Sander says from the doorway. It seems my room is the place to be right now.
“I agree,” Hex says.
I look at both my brothers in turn, hating that they seem so confident about this when I have barely managed to stumble my way through so far. I have prepared my entire life to be queen, and yet it seems I am the least equipped to get there. “What does that mean?” I ask.
“It means Grimstad has been getting his hands dirty,” Elliot mutters. His gaze is on the square again, fixed and focused. “He not only has a lifetime of experience to share with your people, but he also isn’t afraid to put in the work.”
I follow his gaze, wondering what he is seeing to make him say that. Grimstad is just talking with the gathered people, but he looks right at home with them. Heisone of them, something I can never be. Not if I want to be their queen. Surely Grimstad would lose that connection if he were elected and could not keep every promise he must be making to the people.
I hate that I do not have an answer to this problem. No Alverra monarch has had to deal with opposition like this. “How do I combat that?” I ask the room in general, knowing they will not have the answer either.
