Page 84 of Fallen Crown

“Julia too?” Jag asks as he checks his phone.

“No, just Nick. He must have had Jules surgically removed to be able to take a flight without her.” That joke used to be funnier before I wanted to fuse someone to me as well. Now, I’m fairly certain I’d do anything to tie myself to Tucker, force her to drag me around like a literal ball and chain.

The zipper on the tent opens, and I rush forward to hear the outcome.

“I’m fine,” Maren says. “Stitched up with some antibiotic cream.” She waggles the small tube at me.

“She doesn’t need actual antibiotics?” I ask the medic. “The cut looked okay?”

The medic glances at Maren, and she nods her consent.

“The wound had reopened, but it seemed to have been healing fine. Would have been a jagged scar, and it’s fairly deep, so I put in a few stitches. I have recommended that Ms. Tucker see her own doctor when she returns home as a precaution.”

Since I won’t be in Bellerive to make sure Tucker does that, I’ll have to call Sawyer or Nathaniel and ask them to check on Maren. They seem to be the only people she half listens to.

“Prince Brice,” the host calls to me from near the finish line again. “Can we get that interview now?”

Maren makes a shooing motion with her hand when I hesitate. “I’m fine. You heard her. Go. I’m going to congratulate the Australians on a great race. We’ll all need some sleep soon.”

At the mention of sleep, I become aware of just how exhausted I am. We’re pushing thirty-six hours without so much as a nap. I rub my face, and I head to where the host is waiting. Royal persona activated.

When we get back to the hotel, I shower and then crash. Riker, Wren, and Tucker talked about trying to set an alarm to see more teams finish, but knowing I’m leaving here and going straight to a royal commitment, I need my sleep. By the time I wake up, night has fallen. Outside my open balcony window, people are talking and laughing below on the patio. Sounds like quite a crowd.

Riker was either very quiet when he left or I was that tired because he’s gone, and I have no memory of him leaving. Whatever alarm he set was useless for me.

After I’ve gotten dressed, I wander out to the balcony on the off chance I can catch Tucker alone. Fate is not my friend when I notice her on the patio, surrounded by everyone, a massive grin on her face as the guy beside her recounts a raucous story.

Jealousy, hot and irrational, streaks across my chest. Feels like I wasted the time I have left with her by sleeping. I’d like to believe she’ll still see me when we get back to the island, but I have no idea what’s going to happen. Only what I want to happen.

Rather than standing there letting someone else soak up Tucker’s attention, I text Jag that I’m awake and going to the party downstairs. For the last ten days, I haven’t had to alert security about anything, and the absence of my phone and my normal life was a welcome relief. Now we’re back to business as usual. My family comes first, and everything I want is second.

It doesn’t take me long to get down the one flight of stairs, but the patio seems even more packed than it did from above. As I try to make my way through the teams to Tucker, I keep getting stopped by people who want to congratulate me, tell me how proud my father would be, or ask how I ever convinced Tucker to have a showmance. That one boils my blood, but I’m enough of a professional to answer without really answering. Growing up, I learned to ignore the opinions of people who don’t matter in my day-to-day life. Once I leave Fiji, the majority of these people won’t be on my radar.

When I get to where Tucker should be, she’s nowhere in sight, and I turn in circles trying to find her dark head in the crowd. A few times I think I see her, and then I realize it’s not her.

“You looking for Maren?” Wren asks from beside me.

“Have you seen her?”

“She went to the beach.” Wren gestures behind us. “As soon as the race is done, she likes some alone time. I was surprised she was down here as early as she was tonight. Normally, she needs to decompress.”

It sounds like Wren is telling me that Tucker wants to be alone, but I’m going to ignore that piece of advice. Maren won’t have any problem telling me to take a hike if she doesn’t want me around.

On the beach, lit only by the moonlight, is Tucker with her knees drawn up to her chest. She’s not far from where the waves are washing onto the shore, and if she hears me coming, she doesn’t let on.

“Is it safe to be out here by yourself?” I ask.

She turns to rest her temple on her knees, and she gazes at me before releasing a deep sigh. “Safe enough.”

“You okay?”

“Just a bit sad. I’m always like this when a race ends. The adrenaline rushes out and, in its place, at least for me, is a strange melancholy. I’ve never been good at goodbyes or having things end.” She holds up her phone. “I haven’t even turned it on. As soon as I do, I have to go back to reality.”

“Reality has already hit me in the chest. I turned my phone on.” I take a seat beside her.

“Royal obligations abound,” she says with a hint of teasing in her tone.

Now is my chance to tell her about Denmark, to give her the full story, but I like the vibe between us right now, and I don’t want to ruin it.