Page 124 of Heavy Crown

Sundays have a smaller staff, but there are still several people listening in. I’m all out of fucks to give about who hears what. “Where’s Rory?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intended.

“She’s all done,” Joyce says with a shrug.

“All done for today, or all done forever?” I ask. “Juan tells me her apartment is empty.”

“Yeah, I expect it would be,” Joyce agrees, but she hasn’t really answered my question. There’s a coldness in her tone she’s never used with me before.

“I need to speak to her.”

“I apologize, Your Highness, but I can’t help you.” Joyce meets my gaze. “It’s best for you to leave her be, I think.”

I shake my head, and my jaw tightens involuntarily. “Is she still in Bellerive? Can you at least tell me that much?”

Joyce’s expression hardens, and she stares at me without speaking.

“She’s not,” Bethany says from near the pantry. Joyce turns her glare on the younger woman. “She’s gone back to Canada. Joyce is right, though. It would be better if you let her go.”

That gives me something at least. “I’ll take your suggestion under advisement. Good afternoon, ladies.”

I’ve kept my phone off since I sliced and diced Bellerive’s relationship with Denmark. A verbal dressing down from anyone isn’t on my agenda for today. I make a beeline for my office, and while I walk, I wrack my brain for any details Rory gave me about where she was from. If I look up Wilson Dairy Farm, will I find her?

Her parents have been so awful to her, there’s a chance she didn’t even go home. She could be staying with a friend. Every friend she mentioned was from her town or from college. The college friends are spread out across Ontario, and if she’s gone to one of them, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

When I make the turn for my office’s corridor, Posey is leaning against the doorway outside with her head bent over her phone. She glances up at my approach. Here to help me or berate me?

“You pulled the pin, did you?” Posey asks. “Detonated your neat, ordered life in favor of absolute chaos with our favorite Canadian?”

The heaviness that’s been plaguing me eases at Posey’s grin.

“Julia?” I ask, and I unlock my office door. “She told you?”

“She texted me to say Simone texted her to say the engagement and wedding were off. Your heart belongs to someone else.” She makes the last sentence sound ooey-gooey, and I cringe.

“Except my heart,” I say, giving her a pointed look, “appears to have fled the country.”

“Yeah,” Posey agrees. “She has. In tears, no less. Quite a sight. When you go to the farm, you should take flowers. Maybe a truck full? No such thing as too many ‘I’m a dick’ roses, just ask Brent.”

“You’ve got the farm’s address?” Hope is stirring in my gut. I’ll take fifty fucking truckloads of flowers if Posey can direct me to the right place.

“I do.” Posey’s smile fades. “But I’m not giving it to you unless you’re one hundred percent committed to making it work with her.”

“I have three separate plans to get us off the island, but better than that, I have a six-month plan to get Nick ready to become king. I would have left with her three weeks ago.” I run my hand through my hair. “But Rory had a point about my impulsive decision. I would have regretted that exit. Deeply regretted aspects of that exit. This one? This one I can do.” Will a part of me always carry some sadness over losing my country, losing my title? Yes. But I can live with that as long as I’ve got her.

Posey draws a slip of paper out of her pocket and passes it to me. “Go get your girl.”

Kane is navigating the country roads in the luxury rental vehicle. Behind us is another car with more security. For the first time in my life, the security detail feels both excessive and invasive. The conversation I’m about to have with Rory isn’t one I’d like to have an audience for. Especially since they’ll want to sweep the house and the buildings, and I’d prefer to surprise her.

This is romantic, isn’t it? Having me track her down?

God, I hope this is romantic. I don’t have a fucking clue anymore. It’s been three days since I’ve seen her, but it could be a hundred years with how I’m feeling.

Once I see the expression on her face, I’ll be sure coming after her was a good idea. Posey seemed convinced Rory would want to see me despite how we left things the other night.

We turn down a gravel laneway, and I’m glad our vehicle is out in front.

“Tell them I don’t want a sweep,” I say to Kane.

He catches my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Your Highness, protocol—”