Page 8 of Awestruck (Starstruck Love Stories #4)

Chapter Five

Elliot

I don’t know who I’m more angry with—Hex and Sander, for letting the princess wander the city at night; Freya, for being stupid enough to sneak out; or whoever this guy is, for tempting me to do more than rough him up a bit.

The man beneath me only struggles for a second before he realizes there’s no getting out of my chokehold without this turning into a dangerous situation.

Dangerous for him.

“I’m going to count to three,” I say, keeping my voice calm as I loosen the pressure on his throat so he can breathe. “If you’re not out of sight by the time I finish, I’ll—”

He bolts, slipping away from my hold and disappearing around the corner. Coward.

Freya scoffs, and the sound hits me like a punch to the gut.

“Are you out of your mind?” I snarl, turning on her so quickly that she backs up a step. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

Lifting her chin, she tries to look brave but can’t hide the lingering fear in her eyes. “No one would be foolish enough to harm a member of the royal family.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I run a hand through my hair, scanning the street to make sure the skirmish hasn’t caught anyone’s attention yet. I shouldn’t have let the guy go, but I’m more concerned about getting the princess back where she belongs.

Anger flashes across her face. “What do you mean by that, Mr. Reid?”

She does not want me to answer that question. “You need to get back to the palace. Now.”

“But Sander—”

“Sander can take care of himself.” A thread of guilt and worry works its way through me, and I glance at the pub.

No one else has come outside, which hopefully means Sander is de-escalating whatever was happening inside and not in trouble.

I can’t help him and protect the princess.

He was stupid enough to agree to Freya’s idea, so he had better be smart enough to fix what came of it. “We’re leaving.”

Freya tugs her arm out of my reach before I can touch her. “I am not going anywhere with you. Not without my brother.”

She’s going to keep resisting, and sooner or later someone will come after us. I don’t care if it’s one of Grimstad’s loyalists or a peaceful citizen; Freya needs to disappear before tonight’s adventure turns into something more.

I point in the direction of the palace and drop my voice to a growl. “Go.”

She folds her arms, lifting her chin high. “No.”

“Then my apologies in advance.” With one last glance at the pub door, I bend down and scoop the princess over my shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

She shrieks and resists, but the princess hasn’t lived the same life as her brothers and has next to no strength, which makes it easy to start heading up the street despite her protests.

Were this any other major city, we would have hundreds of witnesses, but Invem is remarkably quiet.

Anyone who isn’t at home is likely inside one of the many pubs, leaving me free to carry the princess back to safety without notice.

Physically free, anyway. She’s doing her best to verbally fight me.

“Unhand me, you barbarian!” she shouts as light rain starts to drizzle over us. “I will have you court martialed! I will see that you are returned to your country and never leave again!”

“Sounds great,” I mutter, looking for the motorcycle that Sander said would be waiting up the road because mine is parked in the other direction. His text was too vague for my liking, so we’ll be working on clear communication in the future.

“I could have you thrown in the dungeon for the rest of your miserable life!” Freya snarls, followed by several grumblings in Candoran.

Finally finding the bike, I pause and adjust my grip on the princess’s limbs as she tries to free herself once more.

It won’t be easy getting her on the vehicle, but we need to get back to the palace as quickly as possible, and this is our best option.

“Is that what you would have done to your friend back there after he had his way with you?” I ask.

Her struggling stops. “He would not have done anything to me, no matter what he said.”

Goodness, how naive can she be? Shifting her weight, I roll her over my head and into my arms so I can glare at her.

She yelps, clinging to my neck, but freezes when she meets my gaze.

“Stupidity like that will get you killed,” I say, my voice heavy and rough so she will hopefully understand the severity of the situation she was just in.

“A man who grabs your arm like that will have no qualms about doing worse. Get on the bike.”

I set her on her feet, keeping a firm hold on her arm, and though she seems to debate trying to break free, she eventually sighs and straddles the motorcycle.

I stuff a helmet onto her head, and as she reaches up to buckle it beneath her chin, I take her by the hips and move her to the very back of the seat despite her indignant gasp.

“You are too bold, Mr. Reid.”

“So I’ve been told.” I swing my leg over the seat and settle in front of her, starting up the bike and turning to glare at her again. “You’re going to have to hold on, Princess.”

Rolling her eyes, she tucks her arms around my waist, barely touching me.

I grab her hands and pull her forward until she’s pressed into my back, and then I kick the bike into gear before she can complain about my manhandling.

Freya gasps and tightens her grip as we lurch forward and zoom toward the palace.

Not fast enough for my taste, but with the rain I won’t further risk her safety, especially when I’m frustrated like this.

The drive from Invem isn’t far, but it’s long enough that Freya’s anger builds until she’s practically burning with it in every inch of her.

The guards at the main gate let us in without question, and based on the tension that fills Freya’s body, she has started to figure out how I ended up rescuing her.

The king and queen, Hex at their side along with Gregor and half a dozen palace guards, wait for us outside the massive garage, and the greeting party likely confirms Freya’s suspicions.

“I will kill him,” she mutters as I slow the bike to a stop.

Hex winces and slinks behind his father, the first sign of fear I’ve ever seen in him.

Ignoring my offered hand, Freya climbs off the motorcycle and walks with surprising meekness toward her parents.

She may be a grown woman, but even the bravest soul would wither under those disapproving expressions.

The queen is holding nothing back tonight as she scowls in the misty rain.

“Mum,” Freya says, her voice thin. “Dad. Traitor.”

Hex snickers as he steps from his hiding place. “Hey, I gave you a head start. You’re alive, yeah? You should be thanking me.”

“Hendrik,” Queen Ingrid says in a warning tone, and then her attention is back on Freya. “What were you thinking, going out in the middle of the night? And on your own?”

Freya squares her shoulders. “I need to understand our people if I am to serve them.”

“That answers neither of my questions.”

“Was it you who told the palace guard not to let me out of the palace?”

“Freya.”

“You?” She looks at her father, who lifts the corner of his lips in an empathetic smile. Turning back to the queen, Freya straightens to her full height, hands in fists at her side. “If I am to be queen, you cannot be an obstacle in every direction I try to go!”

“I agree with the queen,” I say, still sitting on the bike.

I’d rather keep a physical distance from the family feud, and I’m a lot more comfortable with a quick escape route if I need it.

After the way I handled Freya in the city, I don’t see this evening going in my favor.

“Her decision was clearly for a good reason.”

Freya’s eyes are fiery, reflecting the lights of the courtyard when she turns to me. “You forget your place, Mr. Reid.”

The sound of a second motorcycle cuts over the top of her anger, growing louder until Sander drives into the courtyard on the bike I took and comes to a stop a few feet from where I’m sitting.

He tugs the helmet from his head, reading the situation quickly as he looks at his family and the gathered guards.

“Sorry, mate,” he mutters to me.

I nod to acknowledge him. I’m glad he was with the princess, but he never should have let her go in the first place.

“Aleksander,” the queen says, her tone measured. “You and I need to discuss the night’s events, along with Mr. Reid, so we might determine whether—”

“He needs to go.” Freya folds her arms and fixes a glare on me. “Reid. I want him out of this country immediately.”

Well, I had a good run.

“Freya, be reasonable,” Stellan says, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

She jerks away from his touch. “Reasonable would be arresting the American for putting his hands on me,” she snarls.

All eyes turn to me, and my stomach tightens as I lift my hands in the air. “I was only trying to get her back here safely.”

“I saw it through the window,” Sander says. He’s fighting a smile and losing the battle. “He did what I would have done in that situation.”

“Other witnesses?” At the sound of Gregor’s rough voice, I meet the security head’s hard gaze.

“No,” Sander says.

“None that I saw,” I add carefully, “but I didn’t have time to do a thorough sweep.

” I can only hope there weren’t any cameras.

Witnesses are one thing, but photographic proof of my less-than-proper methods would likely injure not just me but the royal family as a whole.

If I had had more of a warning, I would have been better prepared.

“He was entirely out of line,” Freya snaps, then turns to me. “You are dismissed.”

“No,” the queen and Gregor say in unison.

Honestly, I can’t decide if it would be better if I did go. Derek was wrong, and the princess and I clearly don’t work well together. But I’m not usually one to quit, so as long as Gregor wants me in his employ, I’ll be here.