“What is he waiting for?”
The answer to that question comes a moment later, when a large man under an umbrella appears from the cross street, stopping at Fenwick’s side. Though the new arrival faces us, the umbrella blocks the light and hides his features in shadow. The two men talk, but through the rain their voices are only indiscernible rumbles. If I could only see their faces, I could get a read on what they’re saying. At the very least, their emotions could give me a sense of the nature of their conversation.
Cursing under my breath, I search the street between me and the men to see if there’s any way I could get closer, but if I move from this spot, the bigger guy will almost certainly see me. I need to find a way to—
A body rushes past me, and it takes me two full seconds to realize it’s Rothesby moving down the sidewalk at a fast clip, his collar turned up and a newspaper over his head. He keeps his head ducked low, so when he runs straight into Fenwick and his buddy, it looks unintentional. Rothesby apologizes profusely, still with his head down, and grabs the newspaper from where he dropped it upon colliding with the two men. He picks up his jog again, turning the corner and disappearing.
I’m contemplating the best way to get Rothesby fired when a disgruntled voice cuts through the rain. “…exactly why we need a new Candora.”
My breath catches in my throat, but the men’s voices stay too low except for a word or two, nothing useful. They speak for another twominutes, then the big man crosses the street as Fenwick continues forward.
I’m about to follow the bigger guy when a voice right behind me says, “Did you catch any of that?”
Cursing, I fight the instinct to grab my gun. “Rothesby!” I gasp, swearing again. “Where did you…” My eyes catch on the alley we’re standing next to, noting how it leads to the next street over.
“I found a place to hide around the corner.” He frowns at me. “I thought, if the conversation wasn’t friendly, they would get to the point quicker if interrupted. Sir, are you—”
“What did you hear?” I press a hand to my heart to will it to calm down. I never used to be this jumpy, and I’m glad only Rothesby saw my reaction. Hex and Sander would have all sorts of jokes for me if they witnessed that.
“Not a lot,” Rothesby says, still looking at me with concern. “They mentioned the debate and how they expect Grimstad to put Princess Freya in her place once and for all.”
Like that would ever happen. Grimstad is charismatic, yes, but Freya has this way with words that surprises me every time. She almost always says the right thing, even when under pressure, and sometimes it takes all my concentration to keep an eye on what’s happening around her instead of getting sucked into whatever conversation she’s having. Sander was genius when he suggested the debate because it’s where Freya is going to shine the most.
“Did they say anything else?” I ask.
Rothesby shakes his head. “Not much I could understand.”
“Did you get a look at the other guy?”
“He kept his face hidden.”
Swearing, I look down the street, but both men have disappeared. Fenwick’s apartment is somewhere in this direction, so there’s a good chance he’s headed home. We could go that way and hope he has hisshutters open for us to see inside, but at this point I’m really grasping at straws. He might just be a zealous Grimstad supporter and has been followinghimthis whole time instead of Freya. As for the other guy, he was heading for one of the busier streets in Skalridge, and we didn’t see enough to be able to pick him out of a crowd.
“What do you want to do, sir?”
That’s a loaded question. I want to know for certain if Fenwick is dangerous. I want to make sure Freya wins this election so she can stop worrying. I want another chance alone with her in the coach so I can do things differently and tell her how I feel about her, even if she refuses to talk about it.
I just spent four days watching her charm her people with nothing but her genuine self. I sat on the other side of a wall and listened to her talk to her friends about their problems instead of her own even though she’s dealing with so much right now. I stood back and let her be the future queen because it was obvious that I was only getting in her way before.
What I want is to live in a world where I could actually be an option for her, but that’s not going to happen.
“Sir?”
I clear my throat and stand up straight, really feeling the rain for the first time as it continues to fall in heavy sheets. We’re both soaked to the bone, and at this elevation the night is going to get cold. “Let’s go back to the hotel. You can have the rest of the night off after all this, and I’ll go meet up with the others to get the princess home safely.”
“With respect, sir, you shouldn’t go alone. I’ll join you.”
I’m about to argue when I remember how he caught me off guard a minute ago. At least I’ve been sleeping lately, but I’m still on edge. It doesn’t help that I’m no closer to having answers about Fenwick than I was four days ago, and every time I look at Freya, I wish things I shouldn’t be wishing.
Giving Rothesby a nod and a soft “thank you,” I lead the way back to the hotel so we can change into dry clothes and find a way to get to the duke’s estate. As we walk, I mentally run through the security plans Gregor and I have been working on for tomorrow’s debate. Local police from Skalridge will combine with the men I’ve brought with me, and the arena where the event is being held is on the small side, which makes it easier to control who comes in and out.
As long as we’re diligent during the actual event, we’ve prepared as much as we can.
After we’ve reached the hotel, I’m pulling on a dry shirt after taking a quick shower when my phone buzzes on the bed. I tense, expecting an emergency from Carsten—the guard I put in charge tonight—but it’s a text from one of my old squad members.
Wade:
I know you’re ignoring the group chat, but I wanted to check and see how you’re doing today. I know it was harder on you than anyone.
