Page 4 of Heavy Crown

The reality that I have nowhere to go and no one to call settles over me like a weight. What am I doing here in Bellerive? My adventure doesn’t seem daring and cool anymore—it’s just lonely.

Dusk falls, and I find myself on roads I don’t recognize. There’s a cliff near here somewhere, isn’t there? This is West Shore Road, isn’t it? I don’t normally come this way at night. Whenever we venture out of Tucker’s Town, Derrick drives.

One of the well-known Bellerivian fog patches rolls across the road in front of me, a wall of white. The fog is dense and thick, and I can barely see the front end of my compact car. Worse than a whiteout in a snowstorm.

My heart thuds so hard in my chest it’s all I can hear. If I stop in the middle of the road, I could get plowed into from behind. If I keep going, I could end up tumbling over the cliff.

I scramble for my phone in my purse with one hand, and I grip the steering wheel with the other. Can my GPS guide me? A sweat breaks out across my palms. How many times did Derrick warn me about this road at night?

The thought of Derrick brings a flash of him and Janessa in bed together. A sob lodges in my throat. What am I going to do? I can’t go back to the apartment.

I have nowhere else to go.

The bang hits my ears at the same instant the car is propelled forward, a violent surge.

I cry out and clench the steering wheel, but it’s no use. My seat snaps, and I fly back. The car is spinning, and spinning, and spinning, until there’s nothing but darkness.

three

Alex

My driver and guard, Kane, opens the rear of the black SUV for me after another disastrous arranged-marriage match. This one, Catherine, was Brice’s suggestion. Next time, I’ll ask more questions. At eighteen, yes, she’s legal, and along with the fact she was born in Bellerive, that’s the only thing which qualified her to meet me. We had nothing, absolutely nothing, in common. The hour we spent together was painful.

Besides, I’m not having a child bride. I’m thirty-three, and that age gap, among other things, led to the disaster of Charles and Diana’s marriage. No thanks. I thought no child brides went without having to be said, but I guess I’ll need to say those words to Brice.

The reality is I might also need to be more involved. I’m so disinterested in the whole wife-finding affair it’s hard to muster any enthusiasm when someone in the royal circle suggests a match.

Kane catches my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Another one bites the dust.”

“Do you have any sisters, Kane?” I muse.

“One. But she’s already married. We don’t qualify anyway.”

I sigh and stare out the window as he drives us back to the palace grounds. Not much I can say to that. I already knew, as a first-generation immigrant family from Japan, that no one in his family would fit the narrow criteria.

“What was that process like?” I ask.

“My parents said it was very hard. Bellerive doesn’t make it easy to move here permanently. There are other countries that are much easier, but my parents fell in love with this place.”

One of the chief complaints of people who come here on a work visa are the strict rules limiting their length of stay. I’ve never agreed with them, but I understand it’s a form of population control. We’re an island. There’s only so much room to grow. We do let people stay beyond the limits sometimes, but it’s unusual for a family to achieve permanency, like Kane’s family has, without a clear connection to a native Bellerivian.

“Why, Your Highness? Are you considering chucking it in and immigrating elsewhere?” Kane’s expression is lit with mischief.

“Should I? Would save me having to explain an NDA and its consequences to an eighteen-year-old over a bottle of wine she’s barely legal to drink while in the back room of a restaurant so no one sees us together.” Out loud, the evening sounds like the farce it was.

“That’s a mouthful,” Kane agrees. “The one the other night was all right.”

He’s referring to Anna Samuel’s younger sister, who has just come back to the island from law school. We did have an okay time considering I fucked her sister on the regular in my early twenties. Seems a bit awkward to me, but Kara glossed over the connection as a nonissue. The family is happy to chase the Crown any way they can.

“I’m on an international wife-finding tour starting next week,” I say.

“Bit of a whirlwind, isn’t it?” Kane agrees. “Seven countries in seven days.”

“Royal speed dating. A high tea here, a royal ball there.” We’re nearing the point where Kane either continues our well-worn path home or takes the West Shore Road. On impulse, I lean forward. “Let’s take the long way home. I’m not keen to get back to Brice’s intrusive questions.”

“There’s fog,” Kane says, his hesitation clear.

The sensible thing is to tell him never mind and carry on the normal way. But I can’t ignore the sensation in the pit of my stomach. Any time I’ve tried to quiet an instinct this strong, I’ve regretted it.