“He’s Candoran,” Elliot counters. “Sander is sure of it.”
So, Elliot had Hex watch Grimstad and Sander watch whoever this man is. I am glad my brothers are proving useful for once, but I think Elliot might be paranoid. “Should this worry me?”
“No.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because you asked.” His lips tick up. “But no matter who he is, I won’t let him or anyone else get anywhere close to you.”
I lift an eyebrow. “So certain?”
“I don’t do things halfway.”
Of that I am well aware, and my mind flashes back to when he came to my rescue in Invem. The man was so determined to get me back home that he ignored all rules of etiquette. Thank goodness he did not have to resort to such methods today. I can only imagine the field day the press would have if my bodyguard was seen carrying me over his shoulders.
Face heating, I smooth my hair and look out the window. “Windgaard is one of the bigger cities in Candora, so it may be more difficult to determine if this man has followed us again.”
“Well aware,” Elliot mutters, clearly not thrilled by this thought. “Are you planning to do a speech again, or change it up like you did in Kirkstead?”
I have yet to decide. I do think the question and answer today was the wrong move, but so was the speech. I frown as I consider the ideas my friends gave me, my anxiety rising. “I do not know my best option,” I say out loud, though I hate admitting weakness. I am always the one to give my friends advice, but I cannot seem to find the same wisdom for myself. “What do you think I should do?”
He turns to me at the same time I turn to him, his eyebrows pulled low. He looks the same way Derek does when he is particularly thoughtful. “You’re asking for my opinion? Again?”
I let out a short, breathy laugh. “I suppose I am. But do not get used to it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I thought, with your experience, you might have some ideas.”
He shifts in his seat, shoulder brushing mine. “Honestly, I’m not sure I have enough information yet to give you any helpful suggestions, but it’s always a good idea to be authentic to who you are.”
“Says the man who wants me to change my manner of speech.”
He chuckles. “Fair point, but I still think you’d be better off cutting out some of your formalities. They aren’t who you are at the core.”
He has a point, and I can’t help but wonder whoElliotis at his core. I have seen him be lighthearted with my brothers, but he is serious and determined when he needs to be. There are so many other parts to him I have yet to see; I am certain of it. Who is Elliot Reid?
It may be a long time before I find out. I need all of my focus to forge a path forward on this campaign.
“Authentic,” I say, testing the word. It only reminds me that I have been a princess, the future queen, for so long that I have almost forgotten the woman behind that role. If I meant it when I said I am most myself when I am with my friends, then it would stand to reason that I should use that to my advantage. To be authentic, how I act with them is how I should act with the Candoran people.
Could that work?
I have never been shy about interfering in my friends’ lives. Sometimes, they do not know what they need or are too afraid to do what is necessary to get it. I once threatened to ban Cole from coming to my coronation if he did not face his trauma head on, and I constantly push Liam to write his music when he lets himself get distracted from what he loves.
I may be pushy, but my friends know better than to think I do not have their best interests at heart. Perhaps that is the direction I need to go with the Candoran people. Somehow. Rather than struggle to figure out what they want, I need to do things my own way. Stand strong and show them what theyneed, which I can only learn through observation.
I knew this from the start, but my poor attempt in Invem broke my confidence. Will I let one mistake stop me from doing what is best? No. I am Freya Alverra, and I will always rise to the challenges placed before me. I have to.
Unable to hold back my smile, I bite my bottom lip and shake my head. With how he reacted the last time, Elliot is unlikely to appreciate what I am thinking.
“What is that look for?” Elliot asks, his tone wary and his brow furrowed again, proving my suspicions correct.
Shrugging, I pick up my phone again so I can begin to make a plan. “I do not think you wish to know.”
“Now I definitely want to know. What are you planning?”
Nothing yet, but a spark of renewed confidence comes to life inside me as I watch his body grow tense, as if he already knows what is coming. I have come to trust him, and I hope he will learn to trust me in return because he is right. I need to be authentic, and I cannot do it without him.
