Page 27 of Awestruck (Starstruck Love Stories #4)

I want to pay attention to their conversation, even if I don’t fully understand it, but my focus is stuck on my hand and the way my muscles relaxed at her touch.

She only held my hand for a second or two, but my tension practically melted away when she did.

It was like she was telling me with that touch that I can relax, and though my mind disagreed, my body immediately understood.

The same thing happened with Hex earlier, and I’m not sure anyone has ever had such a visceral effect on me like these Alverras have.

“Obviously, it doesn’t work on a country-wide scale,” Grimstad says, pulling my attention back up. “Much as I wish we did, we don’t have the natural resources to make sure every single citizen has everything they could ask for without money being involved.”

“Nor can that many people change their way of life so thoroughly to be entirely selfless,” Freya replies. “Not without some making significant sacrifices.”

“Those with the most to give are unlikely to part with what they have.”

Freya winces. “Unfortunately, I agree with you on that. But if we could implement even a portion of Havenford’s ideals, Candora would thrive.”

We? I glance at Sander, whose eyes are narrowed as he looks from his sister to her opponent as they go back and forth.

Freya is more enthusiastic right now than I expected her to be, and Grimstad has a similar look of excitement in his eyes.

I think they’re talking about expanding this whole “trade what we have and take care of each other” mentality that the people of Havenford seem to have, but that’s not how most people work.

People are selfish. They look out for themselves and, if they’re decent, use what extra they have to help their friends and family.

They don’t trade food for kisses because kisses don’t buy shelter and clothing for their families.

In my experience, the most giving people are the ones who have the least, and Candora is full of wealthy, entitled nobility and a royal family who can pay me double what I made in the Special Forces.

It’s the rest of the country who can make the shift into a more selfless way of thinking, but that’s why Grimstad is running in the first place.

He’s not part of the nobility or the wealthy, and his whole platform is about the common man.

I really hope Freya’s engagement right now is because she’s learning as much of Grimstad’s plan as she can so she can counteract it. Not because he’s starting to charm her into thinking he might be a good choice to rule.

Mostly because he is a good choice. That was obvious from the beginning.

“At least we can agree on something,” Grimstad says and stands, his half-eaten plate of food in hand. “Your Highness, I don’t want to monopolize your time while you’re here, but it was nice to talk to you. Maybe we can speak again soon.”

I’m on my feet in an instant, almost without thinking about what I’m doing. “Maybe not, Grim.”

“Elliot,” Freya says in warning.

As his lips quirk up in a smile, Grimstad glances at Freya before nodding at me. “Grim. Not super original, but I’ll take it. Look after her, American. You never know what people might do.”

I would grab his arm if Freya didn’t grab mine first, holding me back. “Is that a threat?” I snarl, tempted to pull free and show Grimstad how I handle threats.

He looks down at the place Freya’s fingers cling to my forearm, his eyebrows pulling together.

“A request,” he says calmly and meets my furious gaze again.

“I don’t want to see Princess Freya come to harm any more than I want to be king for my own gain.

Not everyone is out for blood, Reid.” He bows his head to Freya, who nods in return.

“I believe the people are planning a party to celebrate all of their guests tonight. Your Highness, I would be honored to dance with you, if you choose to attend.”

Not a chance.

“I would be delighted,” Freya says.

I swear under my breath.

With a final nod, Grimstad turns and makes his way down the street, waving at people as he passes. All of them wave back.

“Wow,” one of the twins says.

“Elliot.” This time, when Freya says my name, she takes hold of my arm with both hands and pulls me down until I’m seated again. “I do not think he means me any harm. You can rela—”

“I can’t relax,” I argue, my eyes still on Grimstad’s retreating frame. No matter what he says, his comment still felt like a threat. You never know what people might do.

Things were peaceful in Windgaard, but Breckenholt and Kirkstead were full of discontented people.

The lurker at our first hotel followed us to the next town.

The noblemen and women Freya has interacted with so far don’t seem to care about anyone but themselves, something I noted in the House of Lords meeting last week.

Tabloids and newspapers are keeping a close eye on Freya’s progress, ready to attack her in writing at any moment.

Nothing about our circumstances makes me think I can let my guard down.

“El’s not lying,” Hex says to his siblings. “I got him out on a fishing boat and everything, and I’m pretty sure he’s even more tense than before.”

“This is Havenford,” Sander says, reaching across the table and briefly putting his hand on my arm. It doesn’t offer the same instant relief as Freya’s and Hex’s touches did, but I still feel the contact acutely. “Of all the places you can trust people to keep Freya safe, it’s here.”

“I wish I could believe you,” I mutter. But if I don’t treat everything as a threat unless proven otherwise, I might make a mistake like the one that led to Griff’s death.

It wasn’t your fault. Nora’s voice echoes in my head, a reminder that she never blamed me for her husband’s death. She’s right. I’m not the one who shot him, and I didn’t ask him to push me out of the way.

But it was my plan that went wrong.

“Elliot.” Freya’s fingers find my cheek, catching me by surprise, and she turns my head so I have to look at her.

Her blue eyes are so full of worry that I can’t look away no matter how much I hate that she’s seeing my weakness. It’s been almost a year since that bad op, and I thought I had gotten over it. Why is all of this uncertainty and guilt coming up now? When I need to be at my absolute best?

With my attention fixed on her, Freya blushes and drops her hand. “Do you trust me, Elliot?”

I badly want to tell her no so I have no excuses not to stay focused and alert and lean into the frustration that builds every time I set eyes on Markham Grimstad.

He’s hiding something, and if I cared less about professionalism or had a valid reason to push, I could put my skills to better use and find out what Grimstad isn’t saying.

But Freya’s smile is soft and warm, and there’s something about the way she looks at me sometimes that gets underneath my skin and won’t leave.

Especially after last night, when she declared us friends and something shifted between us.

I’ve told her things I’ve barely told the people closest to me, and never once have I worried she would use my secrets against me.

“Of course I trust you,” I murmur. “It’s everyone else I have a problem with.”

She smiles wider and sits up straighter, looking every bit the confident princess. The confident queen she could be. “I will give you every other day to be as paranoid as you would like, but give me this one. Okay?”

“I already gave you yesterday,” I grumble, knowing I’ll agree anyway because the longer I’m around this woman, the harder it is to say no to her. If the country could see this side of her, they’d have no choice but to vote for her.

She bites her lip as her smile turns into a full-blown grin that lights up her whole face. “Every day but this one, Elliot. I promise.”

I’m really starting to wish I had taken that nap when Hex suggested it. “Fine.”