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From here, I can see that the dark clouds have rolled in. They’re about to unleash their displeasure on us. Well, get in line, Mother Nature. My hands find my hips. “Not until you tell me something real, Freddy.”
“What are you talking about?”
Where to even begin? But my brain lands on the last thing he said last night before I fell asleep. “What did you mean last night when you said someone always gets hurt when you get what you want?”
He huffs. “Chloe, really? Can we just talk about that later?”
“No, I want to talk about it now.” Because later, I know he’ll find some other excuse not to let me in. “Please, Freddy. We’re friends, right? And friends share. I told you my stuff last night. It’s your turn.” Then, because I don’t know what else to do, I tilt my chin ever so slightly. Don’t want him thinking I’m too much of a softie.
Frederick runs a hand through his short hair. Then he groans. “Fine, you win. Just come here, all right?”
“In a minute. Talk.”
“Sakes, you’re bossy.”
That earns him a grin. “Why, thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.” He scowls at me, then rubs the edge of one of his temples. Hopefully he’s not getting a migraine. Maybe we should go …
No, Chloe. Don’t chicken out now.
Ugh, my internal conscience is right. This is hard, knowing that he might not say what I’m hoping he’ll say. Knowing that I might discover that Lucy was wrong, that Frederickdoesonly think of me as a sister.
But it’s worth the risk. Because if she’s right … that changes everything.
I tilt my chin further and spear him with the most royal look I can manage. “I’m waiting.”
“I just … it’s just something I’ve observed, all right? Everyone is better off when I just go with the flow and don’t ask for anything special.”
“When did you observe this?” What would possess a man as good and loyal as Frederick to believe he’d hurt anyone by getting what he wanted? “Give me an example.”
“I don’t know, Chloe.”
But the way he trails off tells me he does. So I just wait.
He huffs again and starts to pace. Three steps one way, turn, three paces back, turn. “When my father got accused of treason, and Topher was at university, he put his life basically on hold to prove that my father was innocent.”
I know this. “Yes. And?”
“And then he got reamed by the media, saying he had poor judgment. That he was destined to be a terrible king someday. That he had no sense of family loyalty—that he was more loyal to a mere bodyguard than to his own kin.”
“All ridiculous lies.” I wave my hand as if swatting away a fly. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“Because I asked him to do it.”
Oh. Thatisnews.
“Things weren’t looking good. My mum was trying but she couldn’t even get a barrister to take his case. Nobody believed he was innocent. The evidence was too damning. But still, I begged my best mate in the world to do whatever he could.” He stops pacing, looks at me. “And he did. To his own detriment and near ruin. He’s only just gotten his reputation back intact, and that’s largely due to Lauren. Everyone loves her.”
This is true—all of it. Except for one thing. “Frederick, Topher would have done what he did whether you asked him or not. I’m sure of it. That’s just who he is. He’s logical and something about the facts didn’t add up, so he followed them until he figured out the discrepancy.”
A plop of rain hits the dirt beneath his feet. “Perhaps.”
“There’s noperhapsabout it.” Then I realize something else. “This … this is why you’re determined to remain a bodyguard even though you hate it.”
“Hate’s a strong word.”
More drops fall around me, but I’ll be darned if we don’t get to the bottom of this right here, right now. “You feel beholden to him.”
