Page 24 of Awestruck (Starstruck Love Stories #4)

Uncomfortable, I sit rigid in my seat and consider what he is telling me.

Sander and Hex still have claim to the throne, but they have made it clear on numerous occasions that they will never take the crown.

There are laws against forcing someone of royal lineage to rule, just as there are laws against a monarch reclaiming their crown once they have given it up.

With no willing candidate, the state of Candora’s government would need to change, but it would not happen in a controlled way, such as through an election.

If I were to suddenly lose my life, my country would more than likely suffer under a Parliament-appointed steward while the House of Lords implemented the new constitution and organized an election.

If Grimstad were to win this election now, the change would happen gradually over the course of his fifteen-year term rather than all at once.

The chances of me dying an untimely death are low, but if this is an obstacle in gaining the people’s support, I will need to find a solution before the election.

I tap a finger on the table as I think. I know what Liam would say if he were here: “Time to get yourself a baby, ASAP!” He would say it in jest, but a part of him would be in earnest. It would solve the problem of succession.

But I am neither prepared to become a mother, nor would that solution help me in the next two weeks.

Bonnie and Cole would both tell me that I am the only person who can determine the course of my life, and I should not let someone like Grimstad put ideas in my head.

I have no idea what Derek would say, and the urge to send him a text hits me hard.

He always knows what to do.

But I turn to Elliot instead. “What do you think of this, Mr. Reid?”

He was scowling at Grimstad, but he looks at me with his eyebrows high. “What?”

Despite the tense circumstances, I cannot hold back a smile at his bewilderment. “I am asking for your opinion.”

“Again?” When I nod, he also seems to fight a grin before he says, “I think Grimstad is playing his worst cards and hoping you believe his bluff. He’s nervous.”

Grimstad’s eyes narrow slightly, but his expression remains mostly calm. “I won’t disagree, but these are legitimate fears of our countrymen.”

“I think you were counting on Freya staying in the palace while you charm the Candoran people.”

“It crossed my mind when this all began.”

“I think you know she’s the best person for the job but won’t admit it, so you’re looking for reasons to undermine her campaign,” Elliot finishes, folding his arms.

Grimstad matches him, and I take a moment to study them both.

They are similar in size, though Grimstad lacks much of Elliot’s visible muscle, and each man is imposing in his own way.

Elliot does not hide his strength like Grimstad does, but it is clear Grimstad is more than his silver tongue.

If he chose to intimidate, he could probably do it well.

No matter their similarities, I am more drawn to Elliot. That could be because I trust him, and I do not know if I can trust Grimstad, even if the Candoran people do. There is more to what he is telling me.

“Thank you,” I tell Elliot and put a hand on his arm, hoping he relaxes. Instead, his muscles tighten beneath my touch. This man is wound so tightly that I am beginning to worry what he might do if he does not let himself rest. I should end this conversation sooner than later. “Mr. Grimstad, I—”

“Markham, please.” Grimstad’s smile grows when he catches the look of surprise on my face. “Maybe we can become friends?”

“Not likely,” Elliot growls under his breath.

Exhaling a soft laugh, I shake my head. “That is a bit of a stretch at the moment, Mr. Grimstad.”

“Worth trying.”

“I thank you for your insight tonight, but I am not concerned about my lack of a husband or child, and neither should the people be. Like you, my affection is only for Candora, and I would never leave it helpless.”

Grimstad nods his head. “I am glad to hear it.” His eyes flick to Elliot before resting on me again. “I wonder if you might allow me a moment alone with you, Your Highness.”

“Absolutely not,” Elliot says immediately.

Curious as I am to know what Grimstad might say without Elliot present, it is a bad idea. As much for my own safety as for Grimstad’s, given Elliot’s level of tension right now. “I think it best if we both retire,” I say with a polite smile.

With another look at Elliot, Grimstad nods again. “As you wish. I’ll let you get your rest so you can be fresh and vibrant for whatever you choose to do tomorrow.”

I do not know for certain if that is a call to what Hollywood Hot Scoop said about me this evening, but I grit my teeth regardless.

My appearance was not as pristine as it could have been, but not everyone has looked down on me today.

Some posts on social media have suggested that my disheveled hair and clothing were a sign that I properly enjoyed my time in Windgaard.

On the other hand, one post from a Candoran newspaper guessed my ruffled appearance was courtesy of the handsome bodyguard behind me, which brought me to tears with laughter.

It also pulled a blush onto my cheeks, but mostly I found it quite funny.

To think Elliot would ever cross that professional boundary, when in reality he only touches me when absolutely necessary.

Before tonight, I have given little thought to my single status, but if I had, someone like Elliot would have never been an option for a future queen.

Even with his many qualities… Did Elliot see the Candoran post, or has he been focused on Hot Scoop, which was particularly effusive toward him today?

The tabloid is awful, but it is difficult to disagree with their assessment of my bodyguard’s appearance.

“Time to be on your way, Mr. Grimstad,” Elliot says and gestures to the door.

Knowing Grimstad is waiting on me, I stand and offer a nod when he rises to his feet and bows. “Goodnight, Mr. Grimstad.”

“Good fortune on the rest of your campaign, Your Highness.”

“Where are you going next?” Elliot asks.

Grimstad pauses at the door, looking back at my bodyguard. He seems to debate for a moment before he smiles in an amused way that makes me think his answer is going to be problematic. “Havenford.”

Elliot and I both swear. That is where we are headed, which means I have not seen the last of Markham Grimstad. That should make me nervous, but more than anything I am curious. Will he continue to give me advice, or are we to be true rivals from here until the election?

Only time will tell.

“Well,” I say, when Grimstad is gone and it is only the two of us left in the room. “What do you make of my opponent?”

“Asking my opinion twice in one night?” To my surprise, Elliot sinks into the chair on my right and runs a hand through his hair.

I have not seen him this casual since we left the palace outside Invem, and it makes him look more tired than he did before.

I must have really taken a lot out of him today, though I do not think Grimstad helped the matter. “You shouldn’t underestimate him.”

“Believe me, I had no plans to do so.”

“Good, because he all but admitted he’s nervous about the election, and there’s no telling what he might do going forward.”

“Do you think him dangerous?”

Elliot considers that question for a minute, his gaze distant, and then his expression hardens as he growls, “I don’t know.” The uncertainty seems to pain him to admit. “I’m no expert on people, but he seemed…”

“Sincere?” I offer. When he nods, I sigh. “I thought so too. But why would he choose to help me?”

“Either it’s a strange play for leverage, or he’s a decent guy.” He wrinkles his nose. “It’ll be harder to hate him if he’s decent.”

Snickering, I lean back in my chair and try to slouch like he does. My poor attempt is almost laughable after a lifetime of proper posture, and I sit up again. “I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows rise. “For what?”

“For being the reason you are tired. I added a good deal of stress to your day, and then I did this.”

He lifts his shoulders in a limp shrug. “I would have talked to Grimstad if you hadn’t.

But I probably wouldn’t have been so polite.

Your good manners have their uses after all.

” He grins at me, and something seems to shift between us.

The moment feels much like whenever I am with Cole or Derek late at night, when the world is quiet and we have no reason to keep our shields up.

“We are friends, you and I,” I murmur as I realize why the air between us is warm and calm.

Elliot’s eyebrows rise again. “Are we?” He does not seem to be arguing. Simply asking.

“Well, by Grimstad’s logic, we have been friends since the day I began calling you Elliot.”

“I like that you call me that.”

It is my turn to be surprised. I did not think he minded the familiarity, but I did not expect him to like it. “You do?”

Nodding, he rests his tattooed arm on the table and runs a finger along one of the Celtic knots weaving across his skin. “My old ODA always called me Reid.”

“ODA?”

“Operational Detachment Alpha. My unit in the Forces. No matter our names, we found the shortest route to save time. Reid. Bax. Griff.” His voice strains on that last one, right before he moves his hand to massage his shoulder above the tattoos.

“Even in school, my few friends called me Reid, so only my dad called me Elliot until he…”

My heart aches; he must have had a lonely childhood with only his father as his family. “Do you miss him?”

“Sometimes. But we were apart for a long time, so I was already used to being on my own.”

“Why did you join the military if it took you away from him?”

“Because I wanted to make a difference in the world. And I liked the rush.” He smirks at me when he says that last bit. “Dad was always worried about me, but he understood my need to find my place in the world because I was never going to find it at home.”

I did not expect him to answer any of these questions, and though I am tired from an adventurous day, I want him to keep talking.

For some reason, I want to learn more about him almost as much as I want to learn about my people.

“Your tattoos,” I say and lean forward so I can see them better. “Are they related to your old team?”

“Yeah. One for each of them.”

I can see ten banded knots, and I am guessing two more sit under the sleeve of his shirt with how evenly they are spaced. “You were close?”

“We had to be. In the Special Forces, you have to trust that the guy next to you has your back. We were brothers in everything but blood.”

The urge to touch his skin and trace the ink that holds his comrades immortalized hits me with a force so strong that I almost do it, my fingers twitching in my lap.

But it is a miracle he has spoken this much, and I will not break whatever spell he is under by shifting our dynamic away from how it should be.

“Why did you leave?” I ask, clasping my hands together to keep from making physical contact. I have touched him twice today, and each time left a strange, unsettled sensation in my chest.

He blinks, his eyebrows pulling low, and I know before he speaks that he is done telling me his secrets. I pushed too far. “You should go to bed, Princess.”

“You should go to bed,” I argue to mask my disappointment. “You look exhausted.”

“Whose fault is that? Oh wait, you already admitted that it’s yours.

” Standing, he offers his hand to me and helps me to my feet, and then he surprises me by tucking my arm through his like he did on the street earlier.

Only, this time his bare skin is warm against mine, and something about the more intimate contact sits heavy in my stomach.

As glad as I am to have a chance to see his tattoos again, it is better if he continues to wear his suits.

This feels different from our limited physicality before today, almost like crossing a line we should never cross.

Do I let go? Of course not.

We are both quiet until we reach my door and Elliot slips his arm free, leaving me bereft of his warmth.

But rather than leaving my side, he remains where he is, looking down at me with an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

“I left the Forces because I needed something new,” he says, so quietly that I have to lean closer to hear him, and we were already quite close as it was.

“My dad died shortly after, so it felt like I’d made the right choice because I was in the States when it happened instead of some remote mountain village on a different continent. ”

“Were you home when he passed?”

He shakes his head, and my heart aches for him. “On base. I was a training officer in North Carolina, but it wasn’t long before I realized I don’t like dealing with willful soldiers.”

He looks so miserable that I can’t help but search for some way to lighten the mood. I want to go back to the moment when we decided we are friends. “You left willful soldiers to come deal with me,” I say with a small laugh. “That does not sound like an upgrade.”

That gets him laughing in return, and I love the way his whole face lights up with his amusement, like his worries wash away with his laughter.

I cannot imagine what he has seen in his lifetime, but the way he has stood strong through it is admirable.

“You’re right,” he says with a shake of his head. “You’re way worse.”

I grin up at him. “Yet you are still here.”

“I am,” he agrees, almost as a question. I understand his surprise, given how desperately I wanted him to go only a week ago.

Looking at him now, I cannot fathom how thoroughly I disliked him when he has been nothing but a support to me from the start.

Without him, I would not be here in Windgaard, and I will never be able to thank him enough for making this campaign possible.

Regardless of the election’s outcome, these two weeks will change my life.

“Goodnight, Rapunzel,” he murmurs, then bows his head and steps back.

I offer him a smile. “Goodnight, Elliot.” When I close my door, I feel as if something has permanently changed between us. What that is, I do not know, but I spend a long time gazing at the door separating our suites and hoping he is getting the rest he needs.

He has spent all his energy looking after me the last few days.

But who is looking after him?