Page 51 of Scarred Crown

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Julia emerges from the bathroom with her hair damp from the shower. On the little table where we eat are a charcuterie board, an oversized bottle of white wine, and some sparkling water. I didn’t ask for the wine, so I’m wondering whether Kafil also thinks Julia and I are having sex. Maybe the whole staff does. We have spent most of our time together, and a lot of our time in this tent, since she arrived. There is only one bed.

I’m sure once Robbie is done writing his story, everyone who reads tabloids will think we’re engaged in a torrid affair.

She eyes the charcuterie board, a hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips. “Payback?”

“Hardly.” I open the wine and wag the bottle at her. “Give me some credit for originality.”

Behind her chair, she hesitates and then says, “What the hell. Pour me a glass.” She slides into her chair and picks bits off the board, shooting furtive glances in my direction. “Why are we eating in here?”

“Changeover for the guests. New lot come in tomorrow. Rather than having all the staff cater to our whims in the large tent, I just asked for something simple.”

“A changeover? Do they have an extra tent now? Or at least an extra bed?” She cracks the sparkling water and adds it to the wine I poured her.

Wine spritzer. Her favorite. Vindication!

“Nick?”

“Huh?” I take a sip of my wine and fill my plate.

“Do they have an extra bed or tent?”

“Oh, no. Sorry.” I grimace. “All full again.” Should I feel a pang of remorse or regret at lying? There’s not even a whisper against my conscience.

“Really? Nothing?” She sighs.

“High season.” I shake my head and avoid eye contact.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not the companionable silence we’ve had in the past. There’s still something eating at her, and as much as I want to avoid digging under the surface, I can’t tolerate her sadness.

“Kafil says you came across a kill on the way back?”

“We did, yeah.” Her voice is quiet. “You’re wondering if that’s what’s bothering me?”

I lean back in my chair and search her face. Startling how easily we slip back into old, familiar patterns. She was never one to beat around the bush, which is why the situation with Alex caught me so off guard. Why all of it caught me off guard. My Jules never hid anything.

“Yes,” I admit.

“It’s something Bahati said—about her mother-in-law. She said she suggested…” She seems to search for the right words. “Well, I’m pretty sure her mother-in-law suggested infanticide to Bahati when Elena was born with both clubbed feet.”

“What?” I run my hands through my too-long hair. “Isn’t that illegal everywhere now?”

“It is, yeah. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.” She breaks off a piece of bread. “I’ve just been thinking a lot about life and death since she said that, I guess. Is there a situation in which death is a kindness?”

“Why would anyone ever consider death a kindness?” I take a large gulp of my wine.

“That’s what Kafil said to me about the giraffe. It was injured. He said it would have likely died a slow, painful death. He said a good death was preferable to a senseless one. You know, since the giraffe’s death would sustain the pride.”

I stare at the table, letting Julia’s words circle in my mind. “I wouldn’t have watched it either,” I admit.

“I didn’t think you would.” Julia’s voice is soft.

Maybe she does still know me, even if it’s just a part of me, even if she doesn’t realize it. “I can’t believe any member of Elena’s family would be okay with murdering her.”

“From the way Kafil framed it, Elena’s grandmother considered death a mercy.”

I scoff. “A mercy? No. Her clubfeet aren’t life-threatening. Even if her condition was life-threatening, family doesn’t give up on one of their members.”