Surprise. As if a marriage proposal is akin to thinking there was one more biscuit in the bag but reaching in to find none. “Markham…” I touch shaking fingers to my forehead and take a deep breath.
“Think about it, Your Highness. And I mean truly give it some thought. If a union doesn’t make sense for you politically, or if you think the people are better off with us as opponents, you can turn me down.” As if to prove his point, he steps back, putting some space between us. “Take a few days, but the sooner you decide, the sooner we know how the election will proceed.” With a quick bow of his head, he turns and heads into the village, fading into the shadows as the sun sinks below the horizon.
Elliot swears, echoing my own thoughts. “He’s crazy.”
“Is he?” I reply. A shiver runs through me, and I tuck my arms around myself to stave off the chill left by Markham’s departure.
Muttering something about how a Havenford fisherman has his jacket, Elliot wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. As before, his body warms mine, but the heat does not reach my center. Uncertainty and insecurity sit like an icy barrier around my soul. I feel so ill equipped to process this development, and a voice in the back of my mind is telling me that Markham’s proposal might very well be the only way I can have the future I have wanted my entire life.
“You’re not considering him, are you?” Elliot asks sharply, as if I spoke my thoughts out loud.
I wince at his tone. “He is right, Elliot.”
“He’s nervous.”
“He said he has thought about this from the start.”
“He can say whatever he wants, but that doesn’t make it true. If he’s so convinced that marrying him is what’s best for Candora, then why did he wait until you started your campaign? Why not weeks ago?Monthsago? He doesn’t have a chance of winning, and he knows it.”
I wish I could be so certain. “Yes, I gained some ground in Windgaard yesterday,” I say, “but one informal meet-and-greet on the street does not counteract years of disparity.” Sighing, I step away from his hold so I can look him in the eyes. “You know as well as I do that he has the majority of the people on his side. I have been on the road for mere days and have only a week and a half to change the minds of an entire country.”
“You don’t know how people will vote,” he argues. “The loudest voices are always the ones of dissent.”
“That has no bearing on this!” I start to pace in the hope that it will calm my racing heart. “The nobility have always held more power than they ought, and there needs to be a change.”
“I won’t argue that,” Elliot snaps back, “but that doesn’t mean you should lie down at Grimstad’s feet and roll over.”
I shoot him a glare to match his scowl. “A political alliance is not a surrender, Mr. Reid.”
“Giving into fear and throwing away everything you stand for isn’t a selfless act!”
His words feel like a slap, and I march up to him, wishing I were taller so I could meet him eye to eye. “I amnotafraid,” I say through my teeth.
“You are, and that’s okay.” His anger fades as he stands there, mere inches from me but feeling so much farther when his expression loses all traces of emotion. A mask. “Grimstad blindsided you, not just with his proposal but with his candidacy in the first place. You’ve barely had any time to defend your worthiness for a throne that was always supposed to be yours, and no one can blame you for feeling like you’re out of your depth. So you’re scared. So what? Suck it up and keep moving forward.”
“‘Suck it up’,” I whisper, furrowing my brow. “Have you forgotten that I am a princess, Mr. Reid?”
“Have you forgotten that you and I are friends now,Your Highness?” His mask slips, making way for frustration as he shakes his head and looks at the place Markham disappeared behind a house. “I’m sorry. I know I’m supposed to keep my opinions to myself. But I care about you too much to let you make a choice you’re going to regret.”
Several words bounce around in my head with equal force but completely differing sentiments.Let you. Regret. I care about you.As much as I want to remind Elliot of his place, he is right to worry about regret. But caring about me? It feels unthinkable, even after seeing the way he has run himself ragged trying to keep me safe.
I am a job to him. A stressor.
You and I are friends.
As a breeze carries his unfamiliar scent to my nose, I return to that moment in his arms when we danced. He did not feel like a friend then. He was something different.
Something dangerous.
You two are a beautiful couple.
“Elliot,” I murmur, unsure what I can say.
“Oi! Elliot!” Hex’s voice cuts through the air, startling me, and my brother lopes over to us and plants his hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “I reckon you and I should see which of us can come the closest to Rand’s stone throw, yeah?”
Elliot’s gaze remains fixed on the houses behind me, as if he did not notice Hex at all.
Hex frowns. “Mate, what—”
