Gripping my phone tighter, I nod and glance behind me to make sure Hex is still giving me privacy. His eyes are on me, but his expression is no more frustrated than it was before. I turn back to my phone. “Markham proposed because a union between us would eliminate the need for people to choose.”
“What if they want to choose?” Hank asks.
That is a good point. “If we take that away, will they feel as though their chance for a voice is gone?” I wonder out loud.
He shrugs. “Maybe. You know your people better than I do.”
“And Markham knows them even better than that. What if this is the best thing for Candora?”
“Do you want to marry the guy?”
It is my turn to shrug, and I wish I had more answers. But this is why I sought the help of my friends. “I want my country to thrive.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question, Freya.”
“I know.” I think of Elliot’s response to my arguments when Markham first proposed.Giving into fear and throwing away everything you stand for isn’t a selfless act.Itfeelsselfless, sacrificing my chances forhappiness for the sake of my people. But could Elliot be right? Would it simply be giving in to fear?
“What if you do one of those hypothetical situations that you do with Bonnie all the time?” Hank asks.
Since Bonnie fell for Hank, I have not had to walk her through possible future outcomes, but the reminder of our conversations makes me smile. We used to go through the worsts and bests of so many different things in her life. “That is a good idea.”
“Say you agree to the marriage. What will that look like in terms of your positions?”
That one is easy. “Assuming a marriage means he would remove his name from the ballot, I would be the reigning queen and true monarch. Markham would be king at my side but have significantly less influence, particularly because he does not already have a title. I would have full power over international matters, and his duties would be tied to domestic affairs. Though, I would have veto power over any of his decisions.”
Hank nods. “Sounds reasonable. Would you butt heads all the time on things?”
That one is not as easy to answer. “I do not think so. We may not always agree, but I think he and I could benefit from differing opinions in a lot of instances. I have already learned and grown so much since learning about his campaign.”
“Makes sense, but there’s always that chance that you’ll argue more than you’ll agree. You’ve told us about how different his platform is from yours.”
“That is true.” But I choose to believe Markham has an open mind, as I do.
Hank’s smile turns sympathetic. “Here’s the hard one.”
I brace myself, wondering what he might say. What does Hank think is difficult?
Pursing his lips, he seems to take a moment to prepare me for his coming question. What he asks is not what I expect. “Would you start a family with him?”
The question hits me in the stomach, leaving me breathless and nauseous. “Oh.”
Hank tilts his head to one side. “That’s quite a reaction to that one.”
“We would be married.” I say that out loud more for my own benefit than for Hank’s. In all my thoughts over the last few days, I never thought to consider anything beyond the legal ties. “And as the king and queen, we would be expected to continue the royal line or risk the monarchy falling to collapse.” That is already one of the issues with my candidacy. I have no prospects and therefore have little chance of procuring an heir anytime soon. The very nature of our government is uncertain because I have spent too much of my young life focused on my career rather than my personal life.
Hank waits patiently for me to keep talking, his smile growing.
I press a hand to my stomach and close my eyes. “I do want children,” I mutter as I truly think about what a marriage with Markham would entail beyond politics and publicity. My nausea builds until I feel dizzy. “I am not certain I would want children with him.”
“With who?” That is not Hank.
I jump and open my eyes, realizing someone else has joined the call.Liam. “No one,” I say quickly.
Liam narrows his eyes and pushes wet hair from his forehead. He is in his pool and likely just finished a swim, and he could not have picked a worse moment to jump into the conversation. “Peach, are youpregnant?”
“Who’s pregnant?” a female voice asks right as Carissa appears on the screen, her blonde curls taking up most of the window as she situates herself on Cole’s lap.
Mortification burns hot in my face as I desperately search for a way to steer the conversation away from—
