How could I not admire him when he has let me choose my own path and supported me every step of the way?
“Do you always have to be this willful, Freya?” Mum asks wearily. “I am trying to help you.”
She means well. Deep down, I know she loves me and wants me to succeed. But at what point in my life will she accept that I am an adult and capable of making my own choices? When I am forty? Sixty? “I don’t need your help when it comes to my campaign,” I say, matching her flat tone. “If I can’t dothison my own, how am I supposed to rule a country on my own?”
“You will not always be on your own,” she argues. “Someday, hopefully sooner than later, you will have someone at your side to support you, as I am supporting you now, and you must learn to accept advice from him, as he will be a king beside you.”
I grit my teeth and wait for the censure that is coming.
“But that someone cannot be Elliot Reid. You know this, yes?”
Of course I do, but as I meet Elliot’s gaze once again, my heart disagrees. His smile has faded, his expression turning more stony than amused, which means he heard my mother’s gentle edict. I want nothing more than to tell her she is wrong, but I am certain Elliot knows as well as I do that our lives cannot intersect in that way. Not without consequences.
Not without changing laws and making a good many waves. Elliot is not nobility. He is not a politician. He is not even Candoran. Everything about him goes against the laws of my country.
“Mum.”
“These photos say more than what you are willing to admit to yourself, but whatever you are feeling, Freya, it is fleeting. Do not get swept up in the exhilaration of a forbidden crush when it will only lead to heartbreak.”
I take a deep breath and sit up as straight as I can to give my voice confidence, wishing I could be alone when I say this. But it needs to be said. “I understand your concern, but this is a non-issue. My priorities are first to win the election, then to find my footing as queen. If at some point I choose an attachment to someone, it will not be Elliot.”
Oh, I did not like saying that.
With a stiff spine and my eyes on my lap, I do my best to stay strong as I say, “We are almost to Skalridge. Thank you for your suggestions. I will see you in Stonemere for the Celestial Ball in a few days, but I need to focus on my campaign. So, unless you have something urgent to discusswith me that is unrelated to the election, I likely will not answer your call.”
“Freya.”
“Goodbye, Mum.” I hang up and drop my phone onto the seat next to me, far more exhausted than when the call began. Though I close my eyes and rest my head against the back of the seat, I can feel Elliot’s gaze searing into me, and with nowhere to go, a conversation is inevitable. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“She is making assumptions without any information to substantiate—”
“Freya.”
I open my eyes, calming at the sight of his gentle smile. He has been so different in the days since we left Havenford, solid and steady in a way I needed so badly. My mother thinks I need support, but I already have it. In every way except the one I do not let myself consider.
Elliot’s smile twitches. “Are we ever going to talk about—”
“No.”
We both flinch at the harshness I put into the word.
Relaxing my shoulders, I swallow and try again. “I was not lying when I said I need to focus on the campaign, Elliot.”
“Just when you said we were close to Skalridge.” He smirks and leans his elbows on his knees, eliminating some of the space between us. “We probably still have five miles to go, at least.”
“Do you have a map in your head?”
“Yeah.”
Oh, he is serious? A snicker escapes me, and I relax for the first time since seeing my mother’s number light up my screen. “You continue to amaze me, Elliot Reid.”
“It’s part of my training.” He breathes in deep, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “You haven’t told her about Grimstad,” he mutters, flexing the fingers in his right hand before clasping his hands together. “Why?”
What a question. Markham and I have not crossed paths as often as I expected us to. Though we both visited Alderholt on the same day, I was busy with the farmers while Markham spent his time in town speaking to manufacturers. Our next two stops were opposites, so we only saw each other in passing on the road between the two towns. The lack of interaction has been a blessing and a curse when it comes to Markham’s proposal.
On the one hand, he has not pressured me to make a decision. On the other, it is far too easy to ignore the prospect and pretend I do not have a choice to make.
