Page 85 of Scarred Crown

“Didn’t you go to high school with this boy?” He points to the byline.

Busted.

“Take any photos of your shotgun wedding?” He tips his head at my phone.

Fuck.

Well, he’s nailed me to the wall, hasn’t he?

Whether or not Jules wanted to marry me, I’ve got no regrets. Doesn’t change the truth of our marriage, though, and I squirm in discomfort. This may not go well. “I’d really like to say I can explain this, but I actually can’t remember any of it.”

We stare at each other in silence.

“None of it?”

“The last thing I remember is asking Jules to marry me. Why we got married, who paid for it, who attended, what we did either before or after?” I wave a hand around the top of my head. “Either the alcohol ate those brain cells, or the memories are buried so deep I’ll never find them.”

“The blank spaces where memories should be can be disconcerting. Are you—” He seems to fumble or search for the right way to phrase what’s coming next. The hesitation goes on so long, I’m not sure he’ll continue. “Dealing with the loss all right?”

I want to laugh and tell him it’s hardly the first time I’ve gotten blackout drunk, but I’m oddly touched by his concern. Most parents would be furious I can’t remember my own ill-timed and ill-advised Vegas wedding to a woman who probably doesn’t want to be married to me. My father has always led with kindness though. How he and my mother ended up with Alex as a child is a mystery.

“I am slightly concerned about how Jules is going to react when I see her again. She’s off talking to the former Secretary Jensen.” I examine the tattoo on my finger.

“You say you asked her to marry you, so I’m assuming the two of you mended some fences in Tanzania?”

“Mended fences?” I give him a sharp look, and then I narrow my eyes.

“No one who lives in this house or works for me is an idiot. I don’t know the details, and after this long, I don’t need them if you two have managed to work out whatever caused your rift.”

As far as I remember, Julia and I worked out nothing—not even our sexual tension. I run a hand down my face and don’t meet his gaze. “Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, Julia and I did not work out our differences. What are the options?”

The king’s eyebrows snap together. “There’s only one. An annulment. The sooner the better, quite frankly. That would be an embarrassment on a grand scale, but I suppose it’s better than the two of you being miserable.”

“Right.”

“Should you decide to stay married,” the king says, “we’ll plan a lavish ceremony for the people of Bellerive and the press. Everyone loves to celebrate love.” He rises from behind his desk as though our conversation is over.

I rise with him, but unlike him, I’m not done. There are a million other things I could say about me and Jules, but I don’t even know how she’s feeling right now. Discovering our marriage didn’t produce much enthusiasm in her, and I doubt that’s changed. Her text to Alex could be interpreted in a thousand different ways, and despite how Alex wanted me to take it, I’ll put on my big boy pants and ask Jules later. If our marriage was a drunken mistake, best to rectify it before I’m too invested.

The king and I are alone, and I can’t leave the room without bringing up the other elephant in the room. “Are you going to tell me personally about the coronation?”

He starts as though I’ve delivered a surprise blow. “Yes, well, yes. As I believe Secretary Jensen told you, I’ve decided to retire from royal life. Alex is ready to take on the weight of The Crown.”

“Is he?” The man I just met in the hall isn’t someone I’d want to represent me. Smug bastard. I grab a peppermint from the candy jar my father keeps on the corner of his desk.

“I’m not going to pretend he doesn’t have more to learn. While you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve, Alex has kept his almost too carefully guarded.” He sighs. “I’m confident I’m making the right decision.”

“What’s really going on, Father?”

“I’ve spent my whole life bowing to the needs of Bellerive. That’s all.” He squeezes my shoulder and leads us to the door. “Best to bring in some fresh blood.”

Lies, and not even particularly good ones. To keep from calling him on them, I pop the peppermint into my mouth. We’re going to talk about this again soon, but right now I need to find my wife.

“Let me know what you and Julia decide—the sooner the better.” He grimaces. “Memory is a funny thing, isn’t it? How some events are so sticky and others…” He makes a fluttering motion with his fingers. “Vanish, sometimes without you even realizing it.”

“I love you, Dad.” On impulse, I hug him at the door. “Thanks for not hating me for the PR nightmare I set off.”

“Whether or not this is a PR nightmare is yet to be determined.” He chuckles and gives me a wry smile.