Page 23 of Awestruck (Starstruck Love Stories #4)

Freya

This is not how I intended to converse with Markham Grimstad, but I was not about to waste this opportunity.

Still, as I stand with the other guards while Elliot makes sure the room where Grimstad is waiting is safe, I wonder if I made the wrong decision and should follow Sander upstairs to go to bed.

Elliot looks tired. He was with me most of the day, only leaving my side when I retired for the evening, and I did not make things easy for him today.

When talking to people in the street, I let them crowd around me, which meant Elliot had to keep an eye on many people at once while watching the buildings around us as well, as if expecting threats from every angle.

I was not worried—as I have told him before, Candora is incredibly safe—and he was remarkably professional, but I could see the strain I put on him.

I might have expected him to say something or force me to the car sooner, but I think he recognized the moment for what it was. People were talking to me. The circumstance was not planned or managed, and I said very little. Simply listened. That seemed to make an impact.

Unfortunately, it also brought Elliot to the forefront of the tabloids, which is its own beast.

Elliot steps out of the conference room and nods at me, which I assume means I can proceed, and he follows me inside. “You’re going to keep this short, Grimstad.”

Like the first time I saw him, Grimstad is not how I expect him to be as he stands upon my arrival and bows. He looks more like his government photo today, polished and trim, though his clothes are on the casual side. He seems to be straddling two worlds now.

“Your Highness.” He takes a step toward me.

Elliot clears his throat. “Do I need to remind you of the rules?”

Rules? I scowl at the bodyguard behind me, but his focus is on the man on the other side of the room. “Elliot, you are not—”

“Don’t blame your bodyguard,” Grimstad says. “He has good reason not to trust me and is doing his job. It’s late, so thank you for meeting with me.”

“You are here.” I wince at the inanity of that comment and try to clarify. “In Windgaard. And you were in Kirkstead and Breckenholt before that.”

Grimacing, Grimstad nods. “I know it looks questionable.”

“Hence the rules,” Elliot grumbles.

“But I assure you I have my own travel plans. If they coincide with yours, it means whoever planned your campaign knew the ideal path across Candora.”

That makes sense. Elliot will not like it, but I am choosing to trust Grimstad for now as I settle in the nearest chair, gesturing for Grimstad to do the same. “What is it you wanted to talk about so badly that you faced not only my brother but Mr. Reid as well?”

Grimstad smiles in a way that makes him look…nice. He is handsome in a way, yes, but mainly his countenance is an approachable one. “I like your brothers. I wish they would involve themselves more in the kingdom’s affairs, but I understand why they don’t. Government isn’t for everyone.”

“No, it is not,” I agree.

His gaze shifts to Elliot, his smile unchanged. “I like your new bodyguard as well, even if some people have questioned your decision to bring in an outsider.”

“Technically it was my mother’s decision.” I do not feel the need to tell him that I have come to approve of her choice. “Now, what is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

Clasping his hands on the table, Grimstad studies me for a moment. “I met up with an old friend tonight, and he said you were on his tour.”

Elliot swears behind me, mirroring the word that crossed through my mind. “Who was this friend?” he asks.

“Sig Halevik. Before you go thinking he’s causing trouble, he was delighted to have you along. But some of your questions stood out to him.”

With the way Mr. Halevik treated me the same as he did the other tourists with us, I thought for sure he was unaware of who I was and simply did his job by answering questions. Apparently he was paying more attention to me than I realized.

“Which questions?” I ask.

“Anything that had to do with your suitability for the throne.”

Heat blossoms on my cheeks. Throughout the tour, I told myself that I wanted to know more about Windgaard, and that was why I constantly interrupted Mr. Halevik’s presentation.

But I kept asking questions that would give me a better idea of the people’s sentiments toward my situation rather than seeking historical facts. “I see I was not subtle.”

“I’m sure you were brilliantly subtle,” Grimstad argues with a shake of his head. “Halevik is simply more intelligent than people give him credit for.”

Who else will I underestimate on this campaign?

“I still do not see why this required a conversation in the middle of the night,” I say somewhat brusquely.

It is barely after ten, hardly the middle of the night, but this discussion has me on edge.

I thought I had gained some ground, but perhaps my adventure today was merely another mistake.

Chuckling, Grimstad unclasps his hands and pulls them onto his lap, lowering his shoulders so he looks smaller.

A calculated move on his part, I am sure, though I will not let him make me think anything but the truth when it comes to him.

He is a dangerous opponent and currently threatens my entire way of life.

No, he is threatening the way of life for all of Candora.

“I know what you’re doing, Freya,” he says, his words soft.

“Her Highness,” Elliot growls.

“Your Highness,” Grimstad amends without any hint of irritation.

I narrow my eyes. “What am I doing?”

“Exactly the same as me. You’re trying to understand what your people need and how you can help them.” He does not say it as a flaw or an obstacle he must remove. He is simply stating fact.

“If I am?” I ask warily.

“Then I wish you all the best in your endeavors. This country needs change, and if you can bring it about, then…”

I barely dare to hope. “Then you will drop out of the running?”

He laughs, shoulders shaking as he gazes across the table at me. “I’m not letting you off that easily. I can also bring change, and if I’m what the people want, I think they should have that chance.”

This man is…confusing. Everything he is saying reflects the truth, and yet he has not said anything negative against me despite being my opponent. He must have an ulterior motive behind his choice of words, though I cannot fathom what it is.

He sits forward. “I’ve been among the people far longer than you have, so I know well the concerns our people have about your rule, should you be crowned.”

“So you know how to best me,” I surmise.

“I know how to help you,” he corrects.

“What?” It is Elliot who says that, and he stares at Grimstad like the man is talking nonsense. At least I am not the only one confused.

Grimstad shrugs. “Like I said, if the people choose you to be their queen, it should be because you are the best candidate for them. But there’s one thing that worries them more than most, and I would imagine it is not something they’ll tell you, even when you join them for lunch.”

I can almost feel the tension rolling off Elliot’s shoulders as he shifts closer to me, as if I might be in more danger from the calm and collected man sitting across from me than I was from the crowd on the street. “What is that?” I ask, not certain if I want to know.

“You are unmarried.”

A humorless laugh escapes me. “I am aware.”

“And that would leave the throne vulnerable.”

That is what Halevik said.

“You are also unmarried,” I counter.

Grimstad’s smile grows, like he finds my comment amusing. “I’m aware.”

“Does that not make you an equally vulnerable choice?”

“I have no interest in marriage unless it benefits more than myself, and as that outcome is unlikely, it would be a waste of time for anyone to try.”

“No interest at all?” Why that is my question, I do not know. It surprises me, I suppose, to think a man as even-tempered and handsome as Markham Grimstad would deny himself a partner.

“I have little time for love and affection, and I imagine being king will not change that.”

“I do not appreciate your presumption,” I mutter. “You may not end up as king, no matter how popular you are.”

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “Being king would not change that,” he says, once again perfectly content to correct his mistake.

“If you are elected queen, many people are worried that power-hungry men will do whatever it takes to become your husband regardless of the danger it poses to you and your family.”

“Good thing she’s got me,” Elliot says in a growl.

Grimstad glances at him, a discerning look on his face before he turns his focus to me again. “Say you don’t have that problem. Say you are safe from predatory suitors. You are thirty-three, Your Highness, and with no heir in sight, you—”

“You are two years older than me,” I retort.

He acknowledges that with a nod. “But I also wouldn’t be required to carry a royal line if I took the throne.

You would. If something happens to you before you provide a line of succession, people are afraid it will leave Candora in a state of emergency, given your brothers’ unwillingness to rule and your mother’s inability to return to the throne once she relinquishes her right. ”

“That is why the people will not vote for me?”

“Among other reasons.”