Page 105 of Scarred Crown

When I flush, he shakes his head. Does that mean Alex knows about his father’s illness? If that’s true, why isn’t the king telling Nick and Brice?

“You’re still keeping secrets.” He scoffs.

“She doesn’t need to share her secrets with you,” Nick says, and I jump at the sound of his voice down the hallway.

How much did he hear? My pulse thunders in my ears. How do I explain Alex’s comment?

“Apparently, she doesn’t need to share them with anyone,” Alex says, raising his eyebrows, but he doesn’t let go of my forearm.

“Do we need to have a talk about how you treat a woman?” Nick’s voice is deceptively quiet as he prowls closer. “About how you treat my wife?”

“You do love throwing that word around.” Alex releases my arm. “You always claimed possessive men turned you off,” he says to me while straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket.

“His emphasis was on the title, not the possession.” When I leave Alex’s side to stride over to Nick, he loops an arm around my waist and kisses my temple. He must not have heard the whole conversation or I’m sure I’d sense some tension in him. His lips linger on my skin, and my stomach flutters.

“Should we go back to our wing of the house?” Nick bends to murmur against my ear.

He’s acting like this mostly because of Alex. Despite what I said, Nick is being possessive. But I don’t mind since I feel equally possessive of him. Either way, I can’t be their favorite toy to fight over for the next months or years or however long this animosity lasts.

“I have to be somewhere,” I say, drawing away from Nick. “I’ll see you at the scheduling meeting in an hour. Maybe you should take this time to speak to Alex? Clear the air?” I keep my voice low because if Nick turns down the idea, I don’t need to add more fuel to their sibling fire.

“I don’t see why I would. It’s smog. There’s no clarity to be found.” He laces his fingers with mine, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Can you try?” I give him a hopeful look and go on my toes to kiss his cheek. His jaw is clenched, and I run my hand along the bearded edge. “You’re brothers, and we’re going to exist in the same family forever.”

“Forever, huh?” He peers down at me, and a hint of amusement undercuts his obvious anger at Alex.

“Please,” I say again.

Nick glances over my shoulder, and then he gives a curt nod. “I think it’s pointless, but I’ll do it.”

I grasp his face and give him a quick kiss before dashing down the hall to meet with the king. My heart is beating erratically. While I need them to get over their one-upmanship for the sake of the whole royal family, I’m terrified Alex will tell Nick about their father before I have a chance to speak to the king.

I’ve known the king is dying for weeks, and I haven’t told Nick. Alex has a point—I’m still keeping secrets with dire consequences.

Nick

Fourteen years ago

After being in the hospital since sometime early this morning, I thought I’d be used to the antiseptic smell. The assault on my senses only seems to be getting worse now that I’m finally alone, and my stomach rolls with renewed anxiety.

Of course, it’s been rolling since I woke up in here. The actual accident is a blank space. The last thing I remember is leaving the royal property on my motorcycle.

Shortly after I regained consciousness, Vicky showed up smelling as though she showered in perfume. Alex called her, apparently. She threw herself across me to sob about how I could have died, and she’s just so grateful I’m alive.

She cried more than my mother and Gran combined. I would have preferred she not come at all.

I’m starting to worry the scales between us have tipped, and she’s way more invested than I am. How that can be, I’m not sure. We barely speak to each other about anything beyond school. She doesn’t know me. Nothing important, anyway.

It’s that last thought that’s been on repeat in my head for months now. No one knows me.

While I’m always surrounded by people—workers, cling-ons, media, staff, family, friends—I’ve never felt particularly close to more than a handful of them. The lack of authentic connections didn’t bother me before because I had Jules.

But I haven’t had her, not really, for months. I’m spiraling, sinking, drowning in a loneliness so deep that I’m worried I won’t be able to crawl out. There’s a constant, aching heaviness, and sometimes it’s so solid, I almost can’t breathe.

“Nicholas?” My gran, the queen of Bellerive, calls from the doorway.

I glance up and give her a hint of a smile. “Still here,” I say.