Elliot’s eyes drop to where our fingers touch, growing darker with each passing second. Does he feel the electric charge that I do? “Princess,” he murmurs. A warning, but one I do not heed because he does not free his hands from mine.
Swallowing, I slowly slide my fingers between his hands to separate them and make it possible to hold his hand properly. “Do you truly think I will be a good queen?”
With something akin to frustration in his eyes, he shakes his head. “You know I do.” Then he surprises me by lifting my hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on my knuckle. “I don’t know why you keep doubting yourself.”
I doubt myself because despite rising support for me in the polls, there are still many people around the kingdom holding rallies against me. Markham still has significant influence. Two of the palace guards have caught glimpses of Elvar Fenwick since leaving Havenford, and the lurker must have a reason for following me. With each sighting, I am less convinced that he is not as dangerous as Elliot first believed.
“Debate is tomorrow,” Elliot says, speaking of an event Sander suggested when he spoke to Markham in Havenford.
Though I am grateful for the new topic of conversation, this one makes me as nervous as anything else. Markham agreed to the debate without hesitation, and while it will be a good way for each of us to showcase our platforms, it will also put me in front of the entire country.
Elliot must sense my fear of that publicity because he adds, “It’ll be a good way to show the rest of Candora who you are, and they’re going to love you.”
Emotion sticks in my throat, so I can only whisper, “Do you really think so?”
Elliot swallows, lifting his eyes to mine. “How could they not?” he murmurs back.
We sit that way, hands clasped and gazes locked together, until the coach comes to a halt and a guard opens the door, announcing our arrival in the isolated city of Skalridge. Tonight, I will endure the dinner with the Duke of Rensvik, and tomorrow, I will debate with Markham.
Each day brings me closer to my future, whether I am ready for it or not.
At least I will have Elliot with me, no matter what.
Chapter Twenty
Elliot
Iprobablyshouldn’thaveleft the princess’s side, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up. She has Hex and Sander with her, along with a dozen palace guards, and Rensvik seems like the kind of guy who has his own security. I have confidence that she’ll be safe, especially if I learn something useful tonight.
“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?”
Ignoring Rothesby, the guard I brought with me, I keep my eyes trained on the man walking ahead of us in the rain. Visibility is lower than I would like, so we need to keep on his tail. It’ll be dark soon and even harder to follow him, so I’m going to take my chance while I’ve got it.
This is the first time one of us has seen Fenwick withouthim seeing us first.
“Wouldn’t it be better to detain him rather than simply following him?”
Fenwick turns a corner, and I pick up my pace to avoid losing him. Thankfully, he’s on a straight path again, but I maintain the smaller distance. It was a miracle that I saw Fenwick in the first place, catching sight of him down a side street while on the way to Rensvik’s dinner. The twins were with Freya in the coach, so I leapt from my horse and grabbed Rothesby, ordering one of the other guards to inform the princess that I would be at the duke’s estate shortly.
That might have been a lie, depending on what Fenwick decides to do tonight.
“I don’t have any legal grounds to detain him,” I say, pausing behind a stairway when Fenwick turns his head to one side and adjusts his hat. “I’d be committing treason if I captured him. That would cause a whole lot of trouble, not just for me but for the royal family as well.”
Rothesby stumbles, making me wonder if he was a poor choice of companion tonight. I picked him because he was the closest, but I don’t know much about him other than him being one of the best shots in the guard. He could be terrible under pressure, but it’s too late now. “Oh,” he chokes out. “That would be bad.”
“Bad indeed,” I agree. Which is a pity. According to the RIA, who has a painfully small amount of information about Elvar Fenwick considering they’re an intelligence agency, Fenwick lives here in Skalridge. Were I anyone else, I would have already broken into his apartment and taken a look around. My time in the Special Forces was never easy, but right now I miss having sanctioned orders to break and enter into hostile environments.
Fenwick pauses at the next street corner, tugging his jacket tighter as he stands beneath a street light.
Ducking out of sight behind a well-placed shrub and dragging Rothesby with me, I peer through the leaves and try to figure out what his next move might be.
“He shouldn’t be standing in the light,” Rothesby mutters. “Not if he wants to stay hidden.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to stay hidden,” I mutter back. We’re close enough to be heard if we’re not careful.
“He’s been hiding from us all week,” Rothesby argues.
“But he doesn’t know we’re here.”
