All three of them give each other meaningful looks. I cannot decide if I love the way Elliot seems to be as connected to my brothers as they are to each other, or if that makes me nervous. He is more lighthearted with them than he is with me, and I worry their immaturity will influence him instead of the other way around.
But no, I cannot think that when I am already anxious. Elliot has given me no reason to think he will be anything but what he has promised. He told me some of his past today and has given me another reason to trust him, and that holds far more weight than unfounded fears. I only wish he would tell me more.
There is much more to this man than the stubborn soldier, and a large part of me wants to know him.Reallyknow him. I want to know why he will not talk about his tattoos. I want to know why he chose the path ofSpecial Forces, and why he left when he has the skills to be great. I want to know why he looks at me so often with those searching eyes when the only thing required of him is to keep me safe. He has no reason to look deeper, and yet…
“This isn’t my area of expertise,” Elliot says, tucking his hands behind his back.
Sander rolls his eyes. “I thought you were the strategic genius on your detachment team.” Is that what Elliot’s position was? Strategy? I should have paid more attention to his résumé instead of blindly trusting Derek’s recommendation.
Elliot huffs. “I’m no geni—”
“Most of your career has involved dealing with insurrection movements amid social and political issues.”
My bodyguard grits his teeth, as if Sander’s argument has irritated him. “Irrelevant.”
Hex scoffs. “Hardly. You told us that one of your missions was based around influencing popular opinions to sway in favor of a new political leader. Is that not what we’re doing now?”
While I am overwhelmed by the things my brothers are saying—this explains why my mother often asks for his opinion—I cannot help but notice something lurking in Elliot’s eyes behind the irritation. It looks like pain. Guilt. Either he lied to Hex and Sander about his background, or Elliot Reid is hiding something else. He must feel me staring at him because he meets my gaze and masks the emotion I saw on his face.
For some reason, I wish to help him avoid the subject.
I clear my throat, pulling my brothers’ attention to me as well. “I am tired from today’s traveling, and I would like to rest before my dinner with Lady Volhorn.” A shudder runs through me that I cannot hold back.
The countess was not pleased by my request to meet here at the town center, and she is not one who hides her disappointment. As this dinnerwas scheduled per my mother’s instruction—she believes I must interact with the noble class as well as the working class—I need all the energy I can muster to endure her comments of distaste.
Sander and Hex share another silent conversation, but Elliot’s eyes remain fixed on me until he ducks his head and excuses himself. “I’m going to take a look around town for a bit and see if I hear anything that might be useful. Princess, you’ll have two guards at your door and three outside your window, should you need anything before your dinner.” He bows his head slightly, then turns to my brothers. “I won’t tell you what to do, but I suggest going to bed early tonight. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
I cannot recall a time my brothers ever went to bed at a reasonable hour, and their matching smirks mirror my thoughts. “Sir, yes, sir!” Hex says with an American salute, his open palm perpendicular to his forehead.
Elliot sighs but says nothing else as he quits the room.
“He is right,” I say, eyeing the twins.
Chuckling, Sander is the first to follow Elliot out as he says, “We’ll get plenty of sleep, Fringe.”
“Once we see what Breckenholt has to offer,” Hex adds and follows him to the door, leaving me on my own.
My solitude will not last long—it never does. Runa will be here at any moment, and I suspect my mother will not be able to wait much longer before she calls for an update and an agenda for my dinner with Lady Volhorn. I use my free moments to watch Grimstad sit on the step of the small monument at the square’s center, surrounded by people. Everything about his body language is calm and relaxed. Everything I was not. He has an advantage I cannot easily match, but surely there is a way to make up for my deficit when it comes to connecting to my people.
As I watch, Grimstad lifts his head and looks up in my direction. He must see me through the window because his smile grows, and he dips his head in a bow.
Before today, I knew winning this election would take some effort, but I can see I have underestimated my opponent. I can only hope he has underestimated me as well.
Chapter Nine
Elliot
“Elliot.”
My gun’s in my hand, the barrel pointed straight between the intruder’s eyes before I recognize the voice of one of the twins. I exhale quickly and blink, telling my body to relax.Lower the gun, El.I do, but stiffly. It’s hard enough to tell the twins apart in daylight and when I’m fully awake, but it’s four in the morning and too dark out here to know which one of the princes thought it was a good idea to sneak up on me.
“What are you doing?” I hiss out, still on edge from the adrenaline spike that shot through me at his soft word.
He chuckles and leans against the wall of the building next to the inn. I found this alley during my earlier sweep of the town square—it offers a good vantage of the square while providing decent cover—and I didn’t think there was access from the back. Apparently I was wrong.
I hate being wrong.
“I should ask you the same thing,” he says, all nonchalance.Hex. He must be Hex.
