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CHAPTER ONE
ANYA
As the second oldest child of King Leyland and Queen Orchid, I’ve never wanted anything that I didn’t get. I’ve always had a roof over my head, well, several roofs, clothes on my back, and food in my belly. I’ve had the very best education that money could buy. I have several cars, should I choose to drive, though my personal driver, Martin, usually drives me wherever I wish to go. I have enough clothes and shoes to start my own department store. I’m a freaking princess. My life could be so much worse. I shouldn’t be petty. I shouldn’t be so churlish, but I can’t help it. Especially right now. I can feel my anger and jealousy rising as my sister hugs my parents after her announcement. While champagne gets passed around, I slip out of the room as angry tears slide down my cheeks.
I am way too damn old to be jealous of my sister’s happiness, but here I am, sulking like a petulant child as I watch my sister get engaged to a man she doesn’t really know. What kind of name is Prince Frost anyways? I huff to myself as I walk from the warm, cozy palace toward the wharf. I snuck out of my bedroom, climbed down the balcony, and then walked down the long winding drive, through the gates, and down the hill toward town. No one is going to miss me anyway. Now that I’m walking, I realize that my jealousy isn’t so much directed at Elisa but at the fact that I want to be in love. I always have. I have dreamed of a man ever since I was a little girl. It’s always the same person. He grew up with me. I never saw his face, but he was always with me until suddenly, I stopped dreaming last year. It was a shock, but I never have and will never forget him. I’ve mourned the loss of him. It felt like he died, and I couldn’t tell anyone about it because I knew they’d think I was crazy.
As I’ve been rage walking, I’ve been thinking about him so long that I’ve walked past town and down to the docks. The water has always called to me, but today, it’s calling to me hard. I sit down on an empty bench. I’ve always loved the sights by the seaside. There are always so many fascinating people to watch coming and going. No one recognizes me here, and I love that.
I watch as vendors close up their stands. I watch a young, frazzled mother scold her child for trying to walk across the street without looking both ways. I watch a group of fishmongers sort the day’s catch that two big trawlers have hauled in. I watch several ice fishermen, one in particular, bring their hooks up empty. I can see them discussing this, but can’t clearly hear what they say. The one I’ve been watching is tall. He looks like a Viking lumberjack, with blonde hair and icy blue eyes that I can see even from this distance. I feel like I’m in a trance when I look at him. There’s something about him that I can’t quite place. Do I know him? Has he delivered fish to the palace before? No, I’m sure I’d remember him. I can’t stop staring at him. I must look crazy, but I can’t help myself. The older one with the long grey beard claps the other on the back, and they return to their hooks. They talk some more, and then my Viking laughs, and it carries across the space and washes over my body. Goosebumps pop up over my skin, and I don’t hate it.
When the big one I’ve been watching takes his basket and moves away from the water's edge, I get up and follow him without thinking. I have no idea why. I’m not paying attention when I hear him shout, “Whoa. Slow down, buddy!” I stop dead in my tracks, and that was a mistake because the next thing I know, a big body is crashing into me, and I’m covered in stinky fish juice. What a great first impression. Though, to be fair, he stinks, too, now.
Say something, Anya. Anything. Don’t just stare at the man. Say something. He’s going to think you don’t have two thoughts to rub together. Oh, my God, that’s not even a phrase; I don’t have two thoughts to rub together.
He takes his basket back, then he speaks, and I’m struck even dumber… Oh, no… he hates me. How can I fix this? Why do I even want to?
CHAPTER TWO
CHRISTOPHER
“Another light day, eh Christ?” I nod at the other ice fisherman to the right of me. He is pulling out his traps, which are also light.
“Yeah, what else is new,” I holler back before emptying what little fish I have in my trap. This is definitely not how I thought my life would turn out, but then again, how could I have expected any different?
I grew up in the Evergreen Orphanage from when I turned three until I became an adult. In the early days of my childhood, nuns would come in and read to us, teach us how to pray and show us how to read. They would tell us that if we were studious, good members of society, we could be anything we wanted to be. I took that to heart. Surely, if a nun said it, it's the truth, right?
So my days would be spent reading all I could, teaching myself math and history. I used to lay in the threadbare bunk bed and dream of going on to higher education and becoming a professor in economics and history. I was determined to be able to help out my country and teach those without how to get it.
Then I got older. The nuns stopped coming, food became scarce, and having heat was no longer a given during the worst of our season. Me and the other kids spent hours huddled together in corners with a meager fire burning in one fireplace.
Days and weeks with nothing but watery oatmeal once a day and a piece of toast for supper. Hell, I wore the same clothes from age ten to sixteen because they didn’t have money to buy us any. I remember asking the housemaster who was responsible for the upkeep of the orphanage, my intention being to write them a letter and pleading with them for some help. I figured it was a church or some do-gooder. But then I learned it was the royal family. Our King and Queen, who live in that big castle high on the hill surrounded by luxury, are keeping us in this condition? My dislike for all things Royal began on this day.
That was the day I learned the truth. There was no future. None of us here in this palace would ever be anything other than people who started with nothing and, therefore, will end with nothing. “You coming?” Bingham calls, bringing me back to the here and now. Nodding, I grab my basket and step onto the plank. All around me are men and women alike unloading and trying to get to the weigh station. I hear conversations from teams and couples who fish together.
I have two baskets in my hand when a little kid runs underneath my arm. “Whoa. Slow down, buddy,” I scream at him. I look down and then back up, only to catch a glimpse of chestnut hair going in the opposite direction. The same little kid comes zooming back past me. I turned once again to avoid knocking him into the water, only to turn into someone else mid-spin. “Oomph.” I hit the ground with the baskets landing on my head.
“Ow. Oh God. I am so sorry,” a sweet, melodic voice says. My heart begins to speed up while I try to sit up, but I am covered in ocean water and fish dirt, and right now, I feel like such a schmuck. “Here, let me help you with that.” The beautiful voice offers. She begins to pull the baskets from my face, and I finally sit up. Standing, I bend over to wipe what I can from my shirt before standing up to thank her.
“Thank you so much…” My gratitude fades promptly when I see who stands before me. Immediately, a bitter taste enters my mouth, and my back straightens. I take my baskets from her hand and take a step back. “Your Royal Highness, I apologize.” I might not like her or her family, but I remember to keep my cool and show respect. The alternative is not worth my disdain. Now, I just need to walk away before I say something I regret.
CHAPTER THREE
ANYA
“Your Royal Highness, I apologize.” His apology feels forced, and when he mumbles something under his breath, I can’t help but feel like I’ve done something to piss him off, other than crash into him, which wasn’t really my fault.
“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I wasn’t paying attention, and I was following you too closely.”
He nods and turns away from me. Uhhhhh, what? I hate to play this card, but I am a princess; I am so not used to being ignored.
I’m not exactly sure why I’m following him down the sidewalk, but I am. He stops along the way and sells his catch to the master fisherman. The man is so caught up in weighing the catch that he ignores me. Once the fish is weighed, I watch him count out money into the Viking lumberjack’s hand who immediately puts it into his pocket.
“Thanks, Otto. See you tomorrow,”
“No, thank you. I know it was awful out there today.”
“We’ll get by, we always do.”
