Page 18 of Scarred Crown

I follow the worker into the spacious tent and gaze at the big family-style table in the middle.

“Do you serve breakfast in here?” I address the staff member who let me in. Other people are buzzing around us, clearing dirty dishes, scrubbing surfaces, and readying the table for the next meal.

“For everyone but His Royal Highness. He enjoys his breakfast and lunch in the tent. More privacy, I believe.”

Ah, right. Makes sense. Nick only ever enjoyed an audience on his terms.

Well, if I’m stuck here, I might as well check in with King George and pretend like this rescue mission is going great. So great.

“Can I use the satellite phone? I need to call the king.” I give the worker a fleeting smile.

“Yes, no problem. In here, in the corner.” He waves me past the table to a corner desk housing their communications systems. Radio. Phone. Wi-fi connection. “Food? I can have something prepared for you.”

“Are there any more crepes? His Royal Highness was hungry and ate mine.” Nick might not want to look like an asshole in front of other people, but I have no qualms with ratting him out.

“Oh.” A brief smile lights up the worker’s face before he smothers it. “His Royal Highness isn’t normally that hungry in the morning.”

“I doubt he was this morning either,” I grumble, following him to the phone. We seem to be having a pissing contest, and so far, Nick’s winning. Not that I’d ever admit that aloud.

The staff member leaves me in the corner with the phone, presumably to fetch more food. With my jet lag, I’m not that hungry, but I can’t turn down a chance to put in a dig at Nick, even if he’s not here to witness it.

I dial the king’s personal extension from memory, half expecting my mother to answer. While she’s been enjoying her retirement, she has far too much time to meddle in my life and my little sister’s. Although Posey has a good sense of humor about it, she and my father will be happy Mother has someone else’s life to organize again.

“King George.” His deep voice rumbles in my ear, and a familiar comfort embraces me. In my heart, King George and Queen Helen have been my bonus parents. Though they employ me now, they were always quick to congratulate me on accomplishments, cheer me on in my pursuits, and help me in any way they could.

“My king, it’s Secretary Jensen.” Then I realize my mother is also called that, and we sound somewhat similar on the phone. “The younger one.”

“Julia! I was hoping you’d call. How is Nicholas?”

Very Nicholas-like. “He needs a haircut, a shave, and someone to organize his closet.”

“Sounds like I sent the right person.” George chuckles.

“He also doesn’t want to come home. I’m going to wait a few days, and then I’ll slip in some comments about his impending engagement.”

There’s a long silence across the line, and I’m about to say hello again when George speaks, “Actually, Alexander and I haven’t had a chance to discuss his succession.”

My stomach drops into my feet. That’s not good. “I already told Prince Nicholas,” I whisper.

“No matter. He’s not communicating with anyone while he’s there. Off the grid, as he likes to call it. But I would prefer Nicholas doesn’t return until I’ve had a chance to speak to Alexander.”

Okay, that’s fine. I can handle my gaffe. I press a hand against my racing heart. We can’t just hop on a plane tomorrow anyway. “By the time I get flights arranged and—”

“Please wait for me to let you know I’ve spoken to Alexander. It may be a week or two as we’re collaborating on one final government project together.”

A week or two? Why did he bother to send me at all? Nick is here for three weeks, and then a week in Vegas, and then he’ll be home anyway. Now that I think about it, I’m really not sure why I had to come. Had the request been to go after anyone but Nick, I might have discovered the missing piece earlier.

Who am I kidding? The king’s illness has also toppled me off my logic game. He’s sick. People like King George aren’t meant to be fallible to these types of illnesses. While everyone dies someday, his won’t be the dignified affair any of us might have wanted or expected. It’ll be messy and awful and so hard on everyone. My heart sinks.

Might as well put my thoughts out there. “Your Highness, I’m not sure why you sent me if you don’t need Prince Nicholas home right away?”

“The opportunity for one final government initiative landed in my lap the day you departed. I couldn’t pass it up. Once we’ve finished the government maneuver, I’ll talk to Alexander about the coronation, and you can prod Nicholas to return.”

That explained them being holed up in meetings and not giving me a proper sendoff. Still, it’s strange for him to be so vague. Why not just tell me what government project he’s working on? I didn’t even know there was something he was trying to get done. Security sensitive, maybe? Though I’m usually privy to those. My mind is a riot of speculation.

“Prince Nicholas plans to be home in four weeks. If this is going to take a bit, do you want me to come back to Bellerive?” If there are things that need to be taken care of there, I don’t know why I’d stay here.

“Haven’t you always said you wanted to go on an African Safari? I was sure that was something you told me once.”