Page 11 of Scarred Crown

The covers tug out of my grasp, and he must roll away from me again. “Night, Secretary Jensen.”

“Goodnight, Prince Nicholas,” I whisper into the darkness. Not a word of denial or confirmation about our shared past. Expecting any other reaction out of him at this point is naïve. He’s shown me over and over again that whoever we used to be to each other, we’re not those people anymore.

Nicholas

As I would expect, Julia woke before me and skittered out of the bed. She’s been rattling around the bathroom area for a few minutes, and I’m wondering at what point she’ll ask for help. Knowing her, I’ve probably got another ten or fifteen minutes before absolute panic and frustration overcomes her stubbornness.

This camp is a mid-range one in terms of amenities. Doesn’t bother me. I’m not here for the conveniences I can get at home. I’m here for the animals, the experience, and the blessed fucking solitude. My tented camp selection does mean you have to pour water down the toilet to get it to flush, and the showers are of the bucket variety. Guests have to order a shower in advance. Did I forget to mention that to Julia last night? Shame.

I grin and shove my hands behind my head, staring at the canvas ceiling.

“Your Royal Highness?” Kafil calls from outside the zipped door. “Breakfast for you and Secretary Jensen.”

“Come in.” Normally, I’m up and dressed when he arrives, and I help him set up the little table. With Julia in the bathroom for a stupid amount of time, I’m still lying in bed.

When Kafil enters the tent, he takes in my appearance. “Are you feeling all right, sir?”

“Glorious. Secretary Jensen is in the bathroom. I’m just waiting my turn.”

“You explained to her how the bathroom works?”

“Of course.” I adjust the covers and plant my feet on the ground, rubbing my face. “You know women, always taking three hours to get ready when it could have taken five minutes.” I drag on the pants I dropped on the floor last night to help Kafil set up breakfast.

When I came in and discovered Julia in my bed, I was stunned. Hadn’t occurred to me she’d pull that fast one. My inner gentleman debated taking the floor space she so kindly set up for me. My not-so-inner asshole won out after I watched her sleep for a minute or two, my heart squeezing painfully at the sight of her so exhausted, no glasses, her hair loose on the pillow. A snapshot from another life.

Someday, I’ll look at her and feel nothing. I’ve been praying for that day since I was sixteen. Ignoring and avoiding her hasn’t snuffed out these lingering emotions, though I always think I’ve managed it until I see her again.

Maybe the next few days with her until she leaves will smother this lingering crush. How many years can someone carry an unrequited flame of longing? Pathetic.

We finish setting up the tea and food on the small folding table. Everyone else at camp has a communal breakfast at the meal tent. Since my preference is toward privacy, I requested only one common meal. Dinner. I can regale people with tales and play pretend for one meal and a few drinks a day. Otherwise, I want to relax and not worry about what someone’s going to write about me on social media, the photos they’ll post, the stories they’ll tell. A trained fucking monkey. Some days, not particularly well trained.

“Do you need anything else?” Kafil asks. “Will Secretary Jensen require anything else?”

“We’re fine, Kafil. We’ll see you at the vehicle in an hour.”

He nods and ducks out the tent, the metallic click of the zipper louder than usual.

“Nick.” Julia’s voice comes out of the canvas-enclosed bathroom area. “I can’t get anything in here to work.”

“Oh.” I feign confusion. “You need a man to solve your problem?”

“A man?” She pokes her head out of the zippered area. “There’s a man here?”

“A prince among men.” I smirk.

She rolls her eyes. “Might be beneath you, but can you tell me how to flush the toilet and turn on the shower? After such a long day of travel yesterday, I cannot go anywhere without scrubbing off the dirt.”

She has no idea what she’s in for today if she thinks yesterday was a dirty day. The roads are dust pits, and our vehicle often has the windows down because I prefer that over air conditioning. No shower now, and perhaps no shower later. She’s going to be filthy. Won’t be sleeping in my bed tonight.

“I’ll show you.” I unzip the door to the bathroom and duck in. “Happy to take a look.”

“Oh, um.” She clutches her towel closer around her.

I swallow down the rise of desire at the sight of her so vulnerable. The towel covers more than her T-shirt and shorts did last night, but one slip of the hand would send the fluffy material sailing to the ground.

Brain, do not go there.

To distract myself, I peer into the toilet. “Just pee?”