Page 21 of Heavy Crown

“I’m Desmond—Royal Secretary for the princes. Prince Alexander asked me to collect a shopping list from you?”

It’s clear this task is a royal pain in his ass.

“If someone will drive me, I can shop for myself,” I say.

“I was under the impression all your worldly possessions were currently in police custody?” Desmond raises his eyebrows and consults his clipboard. “My instructions are to collect a shopping list and a list of anything else you’d like. Prince Alexander has suggested a phone without a data plan for now since Dr. Bennett has limited your screen time.”

Is it weird to feel both cared for and imprisoned at the same time? His adherence to Dr. Bennett’s rules is sweet and annoying all at once.

“Do you know what the police recovered from my car? I don’t have a bank card, credit card, any of my ID… I’d really like my own phone back.” I give him a hopeful look.

Desmond narrows his eyes and purses his lips.

That request was not a winner either. I imagine looking after all three of the royal princes is a busy job, and Alex has tasked him with me instead of whatever official things he’s supposed to be doing.

He takes a deep breath. “I will discuss the matter with Prince Alexander. I shall return.” He grabs the handle on the door and closes it before I can get another word in.

I bite my lip and go back to looking out the window. If everyone is going to act like I’m an inconvenience, I’ll have to actively pursue another job and another place to stay.

An hour later, there’s another knock on the door. By this point, I’ll take Desmond’s barely concealed disapproval over my view from the window. I throw open the door, and a woman with a curvy figure and long chestnut hair is in the doorway. I recognize her from the photos in the paper. She has a bag marked Bellerive Police at her side.

“Hi,” she says with a fleeting smile. “I’m Julia Jensen. The king’s secretary.” She holds up the clear plastic bag. “I have your things from the police station.”

“Oh, wow. Thank you. Desmond didn’t want to deal with me?” I match her quick smile and step back from the doorway. “I really appreciate this.”

“I was returning from the airport after dropping some people off for their flight. Stopping in Tucker’s Town made me the logical choice to retrieve your things. Desmond takes some getting used to, but he’s very good at his job.” She gazes around the cottage. “I haven’t been in these before. This is cute.”

I tear into the clear plastic bag and find my phone. It’s dead, but somehow not crushed. I breathe a sigh of relief. My purse is largely intact, and all my ID is present. Did I have cash in my wallet? I can’t remember, but there’s none now. The weight that was sitting on my shoulders at the thought of trying to organize the replacement of all these pieces of my life lifts.

“You’re relieved?” Julia’s blue-gray eyes are soft with kindness. “Must have been quite an ordeal.”

I scratch my eyebrow and nod. For some reason, the sight of my things has made me a bit choked up. “Thank you for bringing me this.”

“Do you need a charger for your phone? I’m sure I can round one up for you.”

“You don’t mind?” I clasp my hands together against my chest.

“Not at all.” Julia leans against the small kitchen island. “How are you feeling?”

“Apart from some monster headaches, not bad.” I lay my items on the counter, taking in each piece. “Alex—er—Prince Alexander has been so kind to me.”

“Yes,” Julia says, drawing out the word. “He can be.” Something seems to amuse her, and she shakes her head. “Do you have groceries?”

“No,” I admit. “But now that I have my bank card, I can call a cab and go get some.” Bellerive only allows official cab companies, none of the start-ups that have blown up all over the world.

This draws a genuine laugh from her. “A cab? To the royal estate? Alex would collapse from an aneurysm if you did that.” She straightens. “No, I think I should arrange for either a guard to do your shopping or for you to be accompanied by guards.” She purses her lips. “Might be an abuse of my power, but I hate the thought of you cooped up in here trapped by overprotective kindness, however well-meaning he might be.”

“I actually enjoy grocery shopping, so if it’s not too much trouble…” I am bordering on pleading, but I’m yearning for something familiar. The aisles of food will bring me some comfort.

“No trouble,” Julia says. “You’re a baker, right?”

“Pastry chef, yes.” I pile all my things into my purse and loop it over my arm. “I’ve been offered a job here.”

“I heard.” Julia glances at me over her shoulder as she leads the way out the door. “Alex can be very persuasive, so if you don’t want the job—”

“Oh, no. I’m super grateful. My life is a mess, and this job and the cottage are a big help. Massive help.” I smile and then wonder whether I’m coming across as too eager. “I didn’t ask him for the job or the housing.”

Julia waves me off. “None of us think that, if that’s a concern. We all know Alex.”