Page 104 of Heavy Crown

Before the double doors open, Nick raises Julia’s hand to his lips, and when their gazes connect, there’s little doubt how they feel about each other. Love pours out of them, an endless well. Jealousy of that has consumed me for years. Until I met Rory, I never realized what bothered me about Nick and Jules, but it’s their closeness, the connectedness that they’ve had since we were kids. I’ve longed for it—with him, with her—and I could never get there. Nick and I are too different. Julia loved Nick too much.

These last few months, I’ve experienced the kind of endless love they have. A love that wasn’t tied to being next in line to the throne, wasn’t tied to a lifestyle someone wanted to achieve, wasn’t tied to power or influence. Rory wanted me. Welcomed me into her home, her bed, her heart.

The doors ahead of us open, and Simone slides her hand into mine. A break in royal protocol, but after my shitty attitude all day, I don’t have the heart to extract myself.

“Smile,” she reminds me as we follow Nick and Jules onto the balcony.

The roar of the crowd is deafening, and there’s something in the noise, the joy of the people, that buoys me up. My country is thrilled, and I should be too. With Simone’s hand grasped in one of mine, I wave to the crowd with the other.

I need to accept what can no longer be changed.

We’re ushered into the hall with a crowd of other people. The public appearances in front of the majority of Bellerive are done. Now we need to deal with five hundred or so guests from diplomats, to celebrities, to other royalty, to Bellerive’s elite for drinks and mingling before dinner begins.

When Simone disappears to the washroom, I breathe a sigh of relief. She isn’t poor company, but since our appearance on the balcony, I’ve been trying harder to be upbeat. It’s fucking exhausting to pretend an emotion you genuinely don’t feel.

“Are you to follow suit next?” Lawson, the mayor of Tucker’s Town, claps me on the back while he extends his Black hand for a shake. “Get another wedding in the books before you become king?”

We’ve known each other since high school, and his familiarity isn’t out of place, but hearing what people are speculating stirs a hint of unease. “Local gossip is out in full force, is it?” I tease and sidestep his question.

He grins and surveys the busy room with me. “My wife is a royalist. She ordered one of those coronation bibles. Found a clause about you needing a wife.” He waggles his brows.

I suppress a grimace. “She find anything else useful in there?”

Lawson chuckles. “What else are you looking for?”

A loophole big enough to fit a petite blonde with the prettiest green eyes. If one existed, Jules or Desmond would have rooted it out. Besides, I’m past the point where a loophole would help me. Appearing on the balcony with Simone was as good as declaring an engagement. Our linked hands are probably screenshotted across the internet.

“I’ve been meaning to speak to you,” I say. A subject change is the best remedy here. “I have some ideas about how to increase tourism around Tucker’s Town and perhaps a new recreation idea for Bellerive.”

“Do tell,” Lawson says, grabbing a drink off a tray that passes us.

“The old railroad trail that’s been abandoned, I’d like to turn it into a riding path.”

“A riding path?” Lawson rotates the liquid in his glass. “Who’d manage the horses?”

“My friend, Edward, he’s game. His property connects with a portion of the trail. We’d have to work on permits and such. The trail goes through Tucker’s Town main park, so we’d have to analyze the logistics.”

Lawson nods. “I’m open to that discussion.” He tips his chin at me. “What else?”

“A rink. For skating and ice hockey. Perhaps curling or broomball.”

Lawson chuckles and eyes me. “Sounds like you’ve been speaking to a Canadian.”

Warmth spreads across my chest, and on instinct, I search the crowd. She’s not here, but even the mention of her causes me to seek her out.

The warmth coursing through me freezes when I catch sight of a blond braid in the crowd. At the same time, a hand glides across my back, and Simone reappears at my side. She extends the hand not on me toward Lawson and introduces herself.

The two of them fall into easy conversation while I search the crowd. But the blonde has disappeared, and the sucking wound in my chest has returned.

Lawson takes his leave, and Simone fishes in her purse before passing me two aspirin.

“You’ve gone pale again,” she says. “Must be a bad one.”

“It is,” I say, and I take the pills. In my closed hand, I rotate them. Not going to make a lick of difference, but I toss them back and chase them with my wine. “Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long fucking night if my mind is slotting Rory into the crowd. She is nowhere, and she is everywhere.

I have no idea how I’ll cope over the next nine months before her visa expires, and I’m not sure I’ll cope at all once she leaves Bellerivian soil. How do I let go when everything in me is determined to cling?