Page 62 of Heavy Crown

“Knock, knock,” Brice says at the door to my office.

I glance at the clock over the door. Dinnertime is long gone, and it’s edging toward being too late to message Rory. One dance has undone my life.

An arm comes around the side of Brice, a bottle of tequila clutched in the hand holding it.

“No,” I say. That must be Nick, and whenever the two of them play their idiotic Truth and Tequila, stupidity follows. Nick was probably playing it the night he didn’t quite marry Julia. Trust him to go to Vegas, rushed-wedding capital of the world, and not be able to seal the deal.

“You didn’t even let me ask,” Brice says. He plops into the chair across from my desk, and Nick follows with the bottle of tequila and three shot glasses.

Nick bangs the bottle onto the desk with authority. “Come on, brother. At this point, I think you could use a bit of Truth and Tequila.”

“No,” I say again. “My day has gone up shit’s creek without a paddle. Adding alcohol to the mix will likely set my life on literal fire.”

“Mom and Dad can’t be that angry,” Nick says. “It’s not as though your dick is plastered all over the internet for eternity.”

“The king and queen are that angry. I’m engaged to someone else.”

“Shit,” Brice says. “I completely forgot about that.”

Of course he did. With the coronation, his life will barely change. Whatever it’s going to take for me to become king is of no consequence to him.

“Have you told Rory yet?” Nick asks, and he pours each of us a shot, pushing mine across the wooden surface when I don’t reach for it.

Fuck it. I take the shot and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “No.”

“Are you going to tell Rory?” Brice fills my glass again.

I throw back the second shot. “This is how it works. Correct? If I don’t answer, I drink.”

Nick chuckles. “Yeah, but you can just drink. No one is stopping you.”

“Getting drunk won’t solve my problems,” I say.

“Might help you get Rory out of your system,” Brice suggests.

“Out of my system? Are there men who really believe that line?” I run my finger along the rim of the shot glass, and Nick seems to take my motion as an invitation to fill it again.

“A different argument,” Nick says. “You’ve got six weeks to live however you want until your arrangement becomes public knowledge. I’m not suggesting you dance the waltz with Rory in the center of Tucker’s Town, but what’s the harm in embracing what’s left of your freedom?”

I give him a side glance and tip back the tequila. Are they even drinking? Did they come here to get me drunk? “How have you been embracing your freedom? Only six weeks until you get married for real.”

Nick’s jaw tightens. “I’m marrying Jules by choice. You’re marrying Simone to fulfill some royal family bullshit rules. I’m not losing anything by marrying her—I’m gaining everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Me too,” I say. “The crown on my head.”

Brice scoffs. “Come off it. I’m not your idiotic younger brother anymore who can’t read a room. Your feelings about taking over as king are a lot more conflicted than you let on.”

I rock back in my chair, and Brice refills my glass again. “You’re both trying to advise me to go after Rory? To seize the day, so to speak? At what cost? Does that seem fair to Rory?”

“Tell her the truth,” Nick says. “You have to marry Simone to take the throne, and then suggest you seize the next few weeks together.”

The shot glass is cool between my fingers, and I hesitate before bringing it to my lips. Could I tell Rory the complete truth? She’d never go for a brief affair, would she? Wouldn’t I be setting us up for failure, and dare I say it, heartbreak, as my mother suggested?

“Mother said the only way for me to be with Rory would be if I stepped down as the first in line. Either of you up to the job?” I check their reactions, and this time I pour my own shot.

Nick cringes, and Brice’s eyes go wide. “I knew you were conflicted,” Brice says. “I didn’t think that meant you didn’t want it.”

“I wanted the accolades you got, but I never wanted the responsibility,” Nick says. “Still don’t, if I’m being honest. Would you really step down?”