Page 115 of Scarred Crown

The mention of Nick drops the smile off my face, and I stir my rice and sauce without looking at Alex. I clear my throat and square my shoulders.

Forget about Nick. He’s forgotten about you.

“Is that why you’ve been feeling down lately?” I ask, glancing up.

“It’s hard to make genuine friends sometimes.” Alex shakes his head and then gazes around the food court.

“What are you doing this afternoon?” I’m supposed to meet up with some friends, but I could bail on them if Alex needs some normalcy. Nick used to crave those genuine connections too.

“I’ve got a thing in San Francisco for the rest of the day and evening. Was hoping to see you and possibly grab a beer with Nick. It’d be nice if we got on a bit better, being brothers. Wishful thinking on my part, I suppose.”

I shake my head and take a sip of my drink. “His schedule is probably jam-packed for the weekend now, anyway.” Nick won’t want to see him, and I’m sure his crown bunnies are taking up the majority of his spare minutes. The days of me having the fast-track to Nick’s ear are long gone.

“I fly back out tomorrow mid-day. Do you fancy breakfast?”

Two meals at the school might be too much for the gossips. Especially if the second one is so early in the morning.

“I can bring breakfast to your dorm, if you don’t want the spectacle. It would just be nice to be myself for a bit before I fly back to uni and everything there.”

His request sits between us, and I’m hesitant because of optics, but that’s silly. Why do I care if gossips on my floor assume Alex and I slept together? They all know I’m on the fringes of the royal circle anyway. Several of them have asked me to introduce them to Nick, which is an automatic no fucking way every single time.

“Sure,” I say. “And Alex, I’m positive there’s someone out there who will treat you exactly how you want to be treated.”

“Ah,” Alex says, sitting back in his chair. “You’re a closet romantic, are you? Not me. I’m a realist. Too practical for all that happily ever after, soulmate crap. The chances of me forming a genuine connection with someone once I’ve left university are slim. On Bellerive, I will always be the next in line to the throne.” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter and picks up his napkin to wipe his mouth.

Part of me wonders if that’s what’s bothering him. He’s in his final year of uni in England, and apart from a few brief affairs, he hasn’t dated anyone seriously. He’s cautious, which I understand, but I think that cautiousness is beginning to breed loneliness. My heart softens a little at the realization he and Nick aren’t so different. It’s a shame they aren’t able to lean on each other.

“Do you talk to Brice much?” I ask.

“We text a lot,” Alex says. “But with the five-year age gap, he doesn’t comprehend the pressures I face. He’s the youngest. I’m the oldest. Parental expectations are vastly different.”

When we chat, he often mentions the disparity in expectations and standards for him versus his younger brothers. Alex talks a good game about being the heir, but sometimes I wonder whether that’s all it is—talk. Nick saw his attitude as bragging and arrogance, but it’s more like he’s buoying himself up. He knows his place and he’s accepted it, but I’m not convinced he enjoys it. False bravado at its best.

“So, what should I bring you for breakfast in the morning?” Alex asks.

“Anything but eggs benedict. Hollandaise sauce is disgusting.”

“Noted.” Alex grins.

“I’m glad you came.” I return his smile.

“Me too.” Alex’s smile fades, and he scans my face. “Me too.”

Nicholas

The icepack lies across my knuckles, and I check the clock over the door. Jules is late, but I shouldn’t expect any different at this point. Some things never change.

When the door opens, I am surprised her mother walks through first. Was that the meeting she had to go to? Why she left me alone with Alex to try to sort out problems that can’t be solved with words?

“Your chat didn’t go well,” Jules states in a low voice as she takes a seat beside me.

The room is so quiet, her whisper might as well be a shout. I’m not lowering my voice. “He got the message he needed to receive.” Alex and I lock eyes across the table.

Yeah, we’re not coming back from this. I doubt he’s upset about it. I know I’m not.

She skims her fingers over my knuckles, and the tension eases out of me. No matter what he thinks, she’s sitting beside me. We’re here to discuss our wedding. He’s deluded if he thinks he’s still got any avenue to being with her. I scoop her hand up and bring the back of it to my lips. I let the contact linger, and anger sparks again in Alex’s eyes.

Julia sighs and leans into me, and when I break eye contact with Alex, she’s staring up at me. She doesn’t look pleased.