Page 128 of Scarred Crown

Her expression is so open and sincere I find myself nodding.

“Okay,” I say, and I plant a soft kiss on her lips. “Okay.”

###

For some reason, I turn on the local news the next morning. Normally, I don’t watch any news stations. The world is a depressing place, and anything relevant for my diplomatic missions, my secretary will fill me in. Since Jules climbed out of the bed at the butt crack of dawn to head to the airport, I haven’t been able to sleep. She headed off to collect Kafil, Bahati, and Elena to take them to their hotel.

Brice and I are booked at the local women’s shelter to give out gifts to all the children with birthdays this month. We tried to move the event so I could go with Jules to the airport, but it became a scheduling nightmare.

The banner flashes across the bottom with a ‘breaking news’ scroll. I take a bite of my oatmeal and chew slowly.

Bellerive Advisory Council in conjunction with the Royal Family announces upcoming referendum on legalizing assisted suicide.

My spoon clatters into my bowl. The Royal Family announces? What the hell is this? Last I checked, I was the face of that family too. Tossing my napkin on the table, I grab my phone from the bedside and text Brice to meet me at Dad’s office before we head to the shelter.

He texts back almost right away with a question mark.

Did you know Dad and Alex are pushing for a referendum on legalizing assisted suicide?

My phone rings.

“Had no idea,” Brice says before I can even say hello. “You’re going to find out what the deal is from Dad?”

“I’m not going to Alex. Who else would I ask? Julia’s mom?” Though I am sure the former Secretary Jensen would know since she’s been handling the political side of the secretary job while Jules has been coordinating the coronation.

“You don’t think Julia knows?”

“She’s been too busy with wedding and coronation stuff.” My brain ticks through how distracted the two of us have been kept since we returned. “Almost feels like they’ve hidden this from us deliberately, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know, man. Shit is getting weird. I’ll meet you at Dad’s office in ten.”

Since I don’t know how long our chat with Dad will last, I dress in the clothes I intend to wear to the shelter and then head toward his office. On my way there, I become more and more convinced that everyone has been keeping this news from me, Brice, and Jules.

Brice and I meet at the juncture to the royal offices from our private wings of the palace.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Brice admits as we walk to the office door. He rolls his shoulders in his suit jacket and adjusts the cuffs.

“You mean that they deliberately hid the referendum from us?” I ask. I’ve never made my feelings on this topic, and many others, a secret when they’ve come up during policy meetings.

“I’m not sure you’ve quite followed the logic steps yet,” Brice says as he knocks on our father’s door. “I hope I’m wrong.”

Our father opens the office door looking haggard. “Did we have an appointment?” Our father rarely pulls any punches, which is why his subterfuge here is surprising. No topic has ever been too difficult for a family discussion or an informal debate in the middle of a corridor. Though since I’ve returned from Tanzania, I’ve noticed changes in him I didn’t see before, particularly in his ability to focus and remember recent conversations.

“Nick saw the referendum news this morning,” Brice says, stepping past my father into the room.

I’m still at the doorway, putting together Brice’s words. My gaze runs over my father. Is he sick? My stomach churns with anxiety. Is that what Brice thinks he’s put together?

Instead of saying anything, I follow Brice to the seats across from my father’s wide desk. At the door, my father hesitates for a moment before pushing it closed and locking it.

Another frisson of unease snakes down my spine. When he settles into the third seat on our side of his desk, I’m convinced Brice has put the plot together faster than me. My instincts are usually better than his, but I’ve been so distracted with Julia, Alex, and the wedding. How did I miss this?

“What’s going on?” My voice has a gravelly texture. There’s a ball of anxiety rolling around my stomach.

“Alexander and I, along with the Advisory Council, have opted to hold a referendum on legalizing assisted suicide. I had hoped to speak to both of you before it became public, but we must have sprung a leak.”

“It’s a hot button issue,” Brice says.

“Is it?” Our father asks, his eyebrows rising.