Edvard raised one thick, gray brow. “He’s next in line for the throne after you.”
I stared at him. He couldn’t be implying what I thought he was implying.
Since my mother had been an only child and I didn’t have any children, Andreas was indeed second in the line of succession now that Nikolai had abdicated. I tried to picture him as king and shuddered.
“I’ll be frank,” Edvard said. “Andreas has hinted at certain…ambitions regarding the crown, and he does not believe a woman is up for the job.”
Oh, how I wished Andreas was in the room right now so I could tell him where to shove his ambitions. “Perhaps he should tell Queen Elizabeth that the next time we visit Buckingham Palace,” I said coolly.
“You know I disagree with him. But Eldorra is not Britain or Denmark. The country is more…traditional, and I’m afraid many members of Parliament secretly hold the same sentiment as Andreas.”
I curled my fingers around the edge of my chair. “It’s a good thing Parliament doesn’t appoint the monarch then.”
I may not want to rule, but I wouldn’t stand for anyone telling me I couldn’t rule because of my gender. Never mind the fact the monarchy was merely symbolic. We were the face of the nation, and there was no way in hell I’d let someone like Andreas represent us.
Edvard hesitated. “That’s the other reason I wanted to speak with you. Parliament may not appoint the monarch, but there is the matter of the Royal Marriages Law.”
A tight coil of dread formed in my stomach. The Royal Marriages Law, enacted in 1732, was the archaic law requiring monarchs to marry someone of noble blood. It was the reason Nikolai abdicated, and I’d avoided thinking about it as much as possible because it meant my chances of marrying for love were slim to none.
It wasn’t simply a matter of finding a nobleman I liked. Potential marriage partners were chosen for maximum political gain, and I wasn’t naïve enough to hope for a love match.
“I don’t have to marry yet.” I fought to keep the tremble out of my voice. “I have time—”
“I wish that were true.” Edvard’s face creased with a mixture of guilt and trepidation. “But my condition is unpredictable. I could collapse again any minute, and the next time, I might not be so lucky. Now that Nikolai has abdicated, there’s even more pressure to ensure you’re ready for the throne as soon as possible. That includes finding an acceptable husband.”
Marriage technically wasn’t a requirement for the monarch, but Eldorra hadn’t had an unmarried ruler in…well, ever.
Bile rose in my throat, both at the possibility I might lose my grandfather at any minute and at the prospect of living out the rest of my life with a man I didn’t love.
“I’m sorry, dear, but it’s the truth,” Edvard said gently. “I wish I could shield you from the harsh truths of life the way I used to, but you’re going to be queen one day, and the time for sugarcoating is over. You are the last person in our direct line of succession, the only one who stands between Andreas and the crown”—we shuddered in unison—“and marriage to a respectable aristocrat, ideally within the next year, is the only way to ensure the throne and the country remains in good hands.”
I dropped my head, resignation filling me. I could abdicate the way Nikolai had, but I wouldn’t. As much as I resented him for putting me in this position, he’d done it for love. If I did it, it would be out of pure selfishness.
Besides, the country wouldn’t survive two abdications so close to each other. We would be the laughingstock of the world, and I would never tarnish our family name or the crown by passing it on to Andreas.
“How am I supposed to find a husband so soon? My schedule is already so full I hardly have time to sleep, much less date.”
My grandfather’s eyes crinkled, and he suddenly looked more like a mischievous youth than a king who’d ruled for decades. “Leave that to me. I have an idea, but before we get into it, there’s one last thing we need to discuss. Your bodyguard.”
The word bodyguard made my heart twist. “What about him?”
I was still getting used to my new bodyguard, Elias. He was fine. Nice, competent, polite.
But he wasn’t Rhys.
Rhys, who’d rejected my offer to extend his contract.
Rhys, who’d walked away a month ago without looking back.
Rhys, who’d given me the most perfect four days of my life and acted like it had meant nothing to him afterward.
Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe I’d imagined the connection we had, and he was busy living his best life in Costa Rica or South Africa right now.
Bucket list number four.
A familiar burn spread through my chest and behind my eyes before I set my jaw and composed myself.
Princesses don’t cry. Especially not over a man.
“We received a rather unusual call from Harper Security,” Edvard said.
Harper Security. The agency Rhys worked for.
“Is Rh—Mr. Larsen okay?” My pulse quickened with terror. Was he hurt? Dead?
I couldn’t think of any other reason his employer would call, considering he was no longer contracted with the palace.
“He’s fine.” Edvard gave me a strange look. “However, they had an odd request. We normally wouldn’t entertain such an idea, but Christian Harper has a considerable amount of influence. He’s not someone you say no to lightly, even if you’re the king, and he asked for a favor of sorts on behalf of Mr. Larsen.”
I was growing more confused by the minute. “What’s the favor?”
“He wants to rejoin your personal security detail.”
If I hadn’t been sitting, I would’ve fallen over in shock, and that was before Edvard added, “Permanently.”