Page 57 of Heavy Crown

“Make it for two,” I say. “Perhaps I can convince someone to join me.” I pour myself a coffee and leave the rest of the pot for them. When I glance at Rory, her cheeks are a lovely shade of pink. My fingers itch to touch her.

“Cream tea for two,” Rory whispers.

Not touching her is so much harder than I expected. If I don’t get out of this kitchen soon, I’ll make a spectacle of myself in front of Joyce, who is kind but prone to palace gossip. “Have a good day, Joyce,” I call over my shoulder when I exit the kitchen.

Now to make sure my day is open when Rory’s shift comes to an end later. My cream tea will only be satisfying if she’s able to join me.

twenty-two

Rory

My week passes in a whirlwind of routine. Each morning I go to the palace kitchen before the crack of dawn to spend several hours baking. While the royal family is small, the kitchen feeds the staff members, and there are a lot of them. I’m slowly learning everyone’s preferences and favorites.

My afternoons are consumed by cream teas, Rollerblading around the courts, or going for a walk along the cliffs. Alex told me where he used to jump with his brothers, and I’ve wandered past there a few times. Concealed from the palace, the drop is steep.

As soon as dinner finishes, Alex turns up at my door. Given all the time we’ve been spending together, the sexual tension between us should be dissipating, shouldn’t it? But it’s ramping up. A string drawn so tight, one pluck will break it.

His willpower is incredible. If I weren’t so afraid of his reaction, I’d have kissed him by now. The obstacles are numerous. Ten years older than me, heir to the throne, and he’s made it clear we can’t be together. If I make a move and put a strain on our friendship, I’ll never forgive myself. From card games to videos to baking to long walks around the property, Alex and I are never at a loss in each other’s company. Being with him isn’t just natural, it’s exhilarating, as though I’ve won the lottery. I crave his company. He avoids answering many of my more personal questions, but our connection is more profound than words. Two halves of a whole.

The thought, though it’s one I’ve had before, makes me shake my head while I walk to the main palace with my dress slung over my arm and my makeup bag clutched in my hand. Posey and Julia are getting ready for the ball in Nick and Julia’s wing, and I’m to meet them there. Brent has gone back to America to resume training, so I am Posey’s date tonight, or she’s mine. In any event, we’ve agreed to be each other’s plus one. Go girl power! Or something.

Posey drew me a map of the palace corridors and sent it to my phone. There are additional security measures in place, and I’m stopped several times on my way to Prince Nicholas’s wing to clarify who I am and where I’m going. Luckily, I’m on some sort of list the royals provide to security, and after checking my ID, I’m allowed to continue onward.

At the door to Prince Nicholas’s suite of rooms, another security guard uses an internal phone line to notify whoever answers on the other side. A moment later, Posey pops her head out the door and squeals.

“Oh my God. I can’t wait to see what Tanya picked out for you. She has incredible taste.” Posey ushers me into the corridor and through to a set of double doors that are thrown open. There’s a sitting area, an abundance of empty floor space, and a king-sized bed where Prince Nicholas is gathering his things. Alex, Brice, and Nicholas are getting ready in Brice’s wing, which has apparently become a begrudging custom. Alex told me when they were kids they each had rooms on the second floor of the house, but as they returned from university, they were given separate wings on the ground floor. Alex didn’t seem excited but rather resigned to their tradition of dressing in the same area of the palace. I haven’t quite put my finger on his relationship with his brothers.

“Rory, have you met Nick?” Posey asks.

Nick glances up from organizing what’s on the bed, and his lips quirk into an almost smile. He comes forward with his hand outstretched, and as he heads toward me, I’m not sure I’m breathing. While his stint as a model is well-documented, he’s ruggedly handsome. Beard. Dark-brown hair that’s a touch too long. Tall. Taller than Alex. The kind of guy who looks natural in a suit or standing on top of a mountain. I might be having a fangirl moment.

My dry mouth isn’t helped by my envy over how much he loves his soon-to-be-wife. To be loved like that. They are #couplegoals to the nth degree. Posey tells me their relationship hasn’t been as fairy-tale amazing as the press makes it seem, but I’m unconvinced.

“Nick,” he says, taking my hand. “You ready for this, Rory?”

I let out a strangled chuckle. “Oh yeah. Totally. I go to royal balls all the time. I’ve lost count of how many I’ve been to. The number has completely slipped my mind.” I wave my hand as though this whole situation isn’t anxiety producing. Posey is going with me, and Alex will be there. Nothing to worry about, right?

Nick snorts and tips his chin at Posey. “Alex puts up with her sass?” There’s a teasing glint in his hazel eyes.

“Not only does he put up with it,” Posey says, talking behind her hand, “he seems to enjoy it.” When she turns to examine me, she must recognize the blush heating my cheeks. “She’s refreshing.”

“Nick,” Julia says from the en suite door. “Are you and Posey ganging up on poor Rory?”

Nick casts a grin over his shoulder.

“Brice already took her out last week and tried to get her drunk when she was suffering from a concussion,” Posey says.

“I was cleared the next day,” I say. “And I didn’t cave to the peer pressure.”

Nick sighs. “Didn’t cave? Did you hear that, Jules? I need to know what this sorcery is.”

Julia emerges from the bathroom and runs her hand along his shoulders. “Speaking of bad influences, isn’t Brice waiting for you?”

“Ah,” Nick says, and he winks at me. “My cue to leave.” He slides his hands along Julia’s cheeks and stares into her eyes for a moment. There’s that expression again—absolute adoration. Then he kisses her deeply.

I’m not sure where to look because their kiss is not brief, so I nudge Posey and tip my head toward the en suite. She grabs my arm and drags me over, a giggle slipping out.

“They could be at it for hours,” she says, and she shuts the en suite door. “Julia can knock when they’re done rubbing their sex life in our faces. I’d shout, ‘get a room’ but we’re actually in it.”