“Never.”
“Before this campaign, I relied on my mother’s direction. She has been a wise and benevolent queen, and I thought I knew the sort of ruler I wanted to be. Presenting myself the same way she does made sense.” She smooths her fingers over a wrinkle in the blanket beneath me and smiles sadly. “But when left to stand on my own, I am never as polished as she wants me to be, and I feel less than her.” With that, she wraps her fingers around a chunk of her hair, as if it’s revealing all her shortcomings.
“I can teach you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think about what I’m saying, and I wince. This is going to lead somewhere I’m not sure I want it to go. “Not… I think you’re exactly the sort of ruler you should be, polished or not. I mean I can teach you how to do your hair.” I grimace. “If you want. I don’t know much, but I can do a few different braids and things. Enough to help you feel confident in yourself, at least.”
She cocks her head, a bit of uncertainty entering her expression. “How?”
I already told her about Griff dying. This can’t be any worse. “You know that friend who took the fire for me?” I touch the dog tags sitting cool against my chest, and her eyes follow the movement. “He had a family back home. A wife and two little girls.”
Recognition sparks in her eyes. “The family you stayed with when you were on the base?”
I nod. “After Griff died, his wife, Nora, wasn’t doing well. She was having a hard time looking after herself, let alone the girls. And I was…” I grimace, hating that I’m about to admit this to someone other than Derek. Telling him was bad enough, and I don’t want Freya to think less of me. But I already almost let her get shot at—twice—so maybe her opinion is pretty low as it is. “I was struggling in the field,” I say quietly. “Making mistakes. Losing Griff messed me up, and it did the same to Nora. So when it got to a point where I was too much of a liability to my team, I left my ODA and took up a position on the base so I could helpsomeone, and Nora invited me to stay with them instead of getting my own apartment.
“Griff was my best friend, so Nora and the girls already felt like family. Being around them kept me from getting lost in the guilt. I couldn’t focus on the loss in my life when I was busy helping get the girls ready for school on the days Nora couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed.”
Those days were a long time ago, but the pain and guilt haven’t fully gone away.
“Why did you leave them?” Freya asks, slowly releasing her hold on her hair.
I shrug one shoulder. “They didn’t need me anymore. And I was getting restless. My contract with the Army was ending, so I needed to choose if I was staying or going, and my newfound cousin told me about this job that he thought would be good for me.” Chuckling, I glance down the halfway stitched wound in my side. “I guess Derek can’t always be right.”
It’s only when Freya reaches forward and brushes a tear from my cheek that I realize I started crying at some point, and her nearness surprises me. I thought for sure I’d scared her off by now. “Do you miss that family?” she asks, ignoring my poor attemptat a joke.
I gape at her for a second, trying to figure out why she would be looking at me with so much emotion in her eyes. Almost like she’s about to start crying with me. “Some—” I hiss in pain as Wulfric pokes me. Cursing under my breath, I give him a proper glare that doesn’t seem to faze him at all before I turn back to Freya. “Sometimes. The girls are a handful, but they’re cute. And way more emotionally savvy than they should be. They crawled into my bed the night after I found out my dad had died, trying to cheer me up, and that almost broke me. Not because of my own hurt but because they were too young to understand death as well as they do.”
I’ve never felt like I deserved that kind of love they showed me that night, but I will always be grateful for it. Those girls were so strong. Still are. They’ll be okay despite what they’ve been through, and I wish I could be more like them.
Freya’s eyes are on our hands now, and I can practically see her thoughts racing behind them. “Elliot,” she says in a quiet voice. “Do you want a family?”
“Yes.” Even I’m surprised by my quick response, so when Freya’s eyes jump to mine, I shrug and try to explain. “Even when my dad was alive, I was alone most of my life. I have Derek now, I guess, but I’ve always wanted more.” I’ve been talking way too much, so I ask, “What about you?” before I remember the conversation she had with her friends last night. About having kids with Grimstad.
Her gaze turns sad. So sad that my breath hitches, my stomach twisting into knots as I try not to think about what that misery might mean. “Yes,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes, I do. But…”
Even though it causes a lot of pain because I have to lean, I reach over and brush my thumb across her cheek. “Tell me.” I have never wanted something less.
She sniffs and tries to smile. “I also want to do what is best for my country.”
A pit settles in my stomach, heavy and uncomfortable. “What are you saying?”
Wulfric coughs and picks up his bowl, glancing between us. “More water,” he mumbles before shuffling to the door and disappearing, leaving us alone.
“Freya.” I need to be eye level with her, so I take a deep breath and push through the pain of sitting up and facing her despite the worried glare she gives me. I take both of her hands, but she doesn’t respond to my touch as she drops her gaze.
“Markham is right,” she says, each word hitting me straight in the chest. “An alliance between us would solve so many problems that Candora is facing.”
She can’t marry him. I don’twanther to marry him. But it’s not like she can marryme, so what right do I have to say anything against the match? “He could give you a family,” I say instead of begging her to turn him down.
Freya looks at me, her lips twisting up in a sad smile. “Maybe, but that is not what I want. Not with him.”
I lean closer. I can’t help it. The way she’s looking at me, I almost wonder if… “Is there anyone youdowant that with?” I shouldn’t ask that. It’s none of my business. There’s only one answer I’ll like, and she’ll never say—
“Elliot.” Freya squeezes my hands. Leans in. Looks at me like I have all the answers.
And I’m pretty sure I’m about to make the worst mistake of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Freya
