It’s been more than two hundred years since this law went into effect, but do any Candorans today share Colgrave’s worries? Are they afraid to vote for Freya because they think she’ll leave the throne vulnerable? As far as I know, the ruling monarch has more power than their spouse regardless of gender, but whoever marries the monarch still has influence. And as much as I hate it, most men still think they have power over their female counterparts. Anyone who courts Freya, assuming she even allows it, will likely be after the throne rather than truly interested in her.
“I see your thoughts,” Freya murmurs, her eyes on my drumming fingers. “I suspect my marital status may be one of the issues with my popularity, yes.”
“If you look at the white-stoned building up ahead…” Halevik says, continuing with the tour.
After doing a sweep of the street we turn onto, I shift some of my focus back to the princess. “It’s a common problem with royalty. Did you ever…” I stop, knowing better than to ask about Freya’s dating life.
She scoffs and sits up straighter. “While I have had many prospects, no one has ever caught my interest.”
“No arranged marriages I should know about?”
“None that I agreed to.”
“But there have been attempts?”
She smirks. “I am quite a catch, you know, the future queen of Candora. Luckily for me, as queen I will have the law on my side. Outside of someone with power in their own country equal to mine and with the intent of forming a political alliance, only a Candoran can wed a Candoran monarch.”
That doesn’t sound lucky to me. I can’t imagine someone telling me who to marry, in part because dating has never been high on my list of pursuits. Not a lot of time for romance when I enlisted straight out of high school and was recruited to the Special Forces as early as I could be. My knack for languages and being a quick learner made me an ideal candidate, and I never hesitated.
My shoulder throbs, and I can’t stop my thoughts from drifting to Griff and the way he always ribbed me for being single. He adored his wife and his two little girls, and his love for them pushed him to do everything he could to return to them after every mission. He was the only one in our ODA with a family, and yet he was the only one to lose his life.
Nora, his wife, told me more than once that his death wasn’t my fault, just like she told me more than once after my dad died that I couldn’t spend the rest of my life alone because it was easier to spare myself the pain of more loss.
Whether she’s right, I managed to find a job where being on my own is pretty much guaranteed. Unless Freya doesn’t get elected, in which case I’ll…do something. I don’t know what. This job was a lifeline when I needed it most, and if I end up being unnecessary, I’ll have to find something else to keep me busy. Something to challenge me so I don’t get lost again like I did after leaving my detachment.
“Elliot? What is wrong?”
When Freya flinches the moment my gaze turns to her, I realize I’m scowling and relax my features. “Nothing.”
Amusement lights up her eyes. “I would have thought you would be a better liar.” She turns her attention to Halevik once more, and I have a feeling we’re going to do the whole tour whether I want to or not.
At least Freya is certainly presenting a challenge, but this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.
Chapter Twelve
Freya
Ihavelearnedsomeimportant things on this tour. One, there is much more to learn about my country than what I can read in history books. Two, Windgaard has excellent seafood, and I absolutely need to return for the next Great Fish Fry. And three, I am far better at making friends than Elliot, something I take great pride in when it has always been a struggle for me.
Mr. Halevik ended the tour at a tiny café off one of the many piers along the coastline, where we enjoyed the most delicious fish and chips I have ever eaten. I sat at the same table as the others despite my certainty that they would have liked me elsewhere, but now they are all talking and laughing with me while we drink tea after our meal. I think Mr. Halevik would have joined us too if I had not worn him out with mymany questions throughout the rest of the tour, and he bade us farewell before disappearing with the bus and its driver.
Elliot has not left the doorway once. Not even when Jason, one of my new friends, invites him to join us.
“Is he always so serious?” Jason asks as he comes back to sit with his wife again. He and his wife, Laura, came to Candora for their first anniversary, and I hoped Elliot would respond better to a fellow American after the way he tried to bore a hole into Mr. Halevik’s head with his glare when we stopped in a place other than where we started. It seems I was wrong, and Jason looks like he nearly met his demise by talking to my bodyguard.
I let out a wistful sigh. “Not always,” I admit. “But I think he’s nervous with me out on my own like this.”
“You are not alone,” Orla says, reaching across the table to grasp my hand. A woman in her late forties, she is from the northern mountains of Candora and has come to Windgaard to enjoy the seaside before summer ends. “We are all friends here!”
The others at the table agree with enthusiasm that makes Elliot roll his eyes. The restaurant is too small for him not to hear the conversation we are having, though he has yet to add to it.
I thought Elliot wanted me to befriend people—it is why I have been focusing hard on my manners of speech throughout this lunch—but he seems to think I have made the wrong friends. I disagree. While Jason and Laura will not be able to vote for me, nor the teenaged Evert and his Swedish parents, the other two at the table can. With the rate Grimstad’s popularity is growing, I will take every vote I can get.
Besides, I adore these new friends of mine. It took a few minutes for them to warm up to the idea of eating lunch with royalty, but I am almost convinced they have forgotten that I am a princess. I learned a good deal about life in Candora from Mr. Halevik’s tour, but I have learnedmore from sitting with these friends who were strangers only a few hours before.
Grinning, I squeeze Orla’s hand and pull mine from her grasp. “Yes, I’m so glad I have made so many friends today.”
“We are better than Derek Riley, right?” Evert asks.
