Page 76 of Heavy Crown

He gathers my long hair in his fist as my stomach starts its next revolt. Embarrassment courses through me hot and shameful as I heave into the toilet. It’s bad enough to have food poisoning, so much worse to have a literal prince holding back my hair.

When the heaving ends, and I sit back on my heels, I can’t meet his gaze. He flushes the toilet and passes me a tissue.

“Water?” he asks, as though I didn’t embarrass myself in front of him. “Do you need help back to bed?”

“I don’t want you to stay, Alex,” I whisper. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick, and you need help.” His tone is matter-of-fact. “If you’re embarrassed you just lost your very expensive dinner in front of me, I’m not bothered. If you’re worried about some palace gossip, I’m doubly unbothered. Your well-being comes before both.”

It’s both and it’s neither. Having him care is a double-edged sword. I want to soak up his attention, but I realize doing so isn’t healthy for my long-term sanity. “Stella,” I say. With my hand braced on the bathtub, I try to stand. My legs wobble, and Alex is at my elbow in an instant. “I’ll accept Stella.” I make it to the sink to brush my teeth, and I brace myself on the edge of the vanity.

When I try to walk, and I sway on my feet, Alex lets out a curse and scoops me into his arms. He carries me with ease back to my bed and slides me under the covers. He tucks me in and smooths my hair off my face.

Beside me on the bed is my phone. He reaches across me and presses the power button. Once he’s satisfied it’s working, he places it on my nightstand, and then he leans over me, one hand on either side of my shoulders.

“Stella will be here within the hour to help keep you hydrated and to hold back your hair.”

“I’m surprised you knew about holding back a woman’s hair,” I say.

He waggles his eyebrows. “I know all sorts of things about women.”

A teasing comment about all the women he’s studied rises to my lips, but I can’t get it past them. The thought of him with anyone else causes my chest to feel as though it might cave in. Last night altered the dynamic between us, and I wanted it to change, but I’m not sure I was prepared for the consequences. We were so connected, so in tune with one another. Having sex with someone for the first time isn’t supposed to be that good.

“I could stand here all day and watch your thoughts play out across your face,” he murmurs.

Warmth creeps up my neck. “Except you can’t actually read my thoughts.” Please tell me he doesn’t have some sort of prince superpower. My thoughts are not a place he should go.

“You’re feeling insecure about something. What is it?”

Shockingly accurate. There’s no way I’m telling him how vulnerable I’m feeling after we had sex. Nothing like waving a big “Danger! She’s far too into you!” flag right in front of him. Neither of us needs that. “Just the things you mentioned before. Puking. Gossip.”

A frown creases his brow, and I’m not sure if he’s bought what I’ve said or if I’ve raised his suspicions. “Within the hour, Stella will be here. I’ll make sure of it.” He plants a kiss on my temple, and he takes out his phone before heading for the door. “I’ll be back when I’m done work to check on you.”

The door clicks closed, and a sigh escapes me. A shot of longing for Alex follows. Should I have asked him to stay instead? Would he really have canceled his day again to play nursemaid to me?

Get a grip, Rory.

I’m already longing for things I promised Alex I wouldn’t want, that I’ve tried to fool myself into believing I’ll never want from him.

After last night, any brakes I applied to my emotions are cut. I’m full steam ahead to heartbreak station. The only part I’m not sure about is whether I’m alone on the train, or if Alex is right there riding beside me.

twenty-nine

Alex

Since it’s Sunday, it’s an asshole move to summon Julia and Nick to my office. Doesn’t stop me from making the call. Unless they’re traveling, they tend to hole up in their wing of the house for the entire day. Used to annoy me beyond belief, but today it’s a relief to realize they’re both accessible, even if they’d prefer not to be. Truthfully, I’d rather have this conversation with just Julia, but Nick made his thoughts on my friendship with his future wife clear. Besides, it’ll make Julia happy I’ve looped her husband into my emotional turmoil.

Emotional turmoil? What has happened to me? I close my eyes and squeeze the bridge of my nose.

If there’s one person who’ll understand the kind of longing I’m beginning to suffer, it’s Prince Nicholas. Fourteen years of lovesickness. Not an illness I’m keen to experience.

I’ve got two choices. Get these feelings for Rory wrangled into something I can manage or figure out a way to cancel my arrangement with Princess Simone and convince Rory to become my queen.

Fuck.

How did I let things get this far? How am I even contemplating this?

Not just contemplating it—an obsessive thought pattern over the last few hours. Figuring out a way to be with her is now my top priority. Forget the referendum or the coronation or any of my other duties—her, just her.