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Chapter One

Tabitha

Putting one last curl into Al’s hair, I step back and take a look at my handiwork.

“You look like a hooker. One of those American ones,” I tease her, smiling. I think we nailed it. My obsession with my favorite movie Pretty Woman gave me the idea to go with a Vivian Ward look. I love doing Al’s hair, but she hardly lets me anymore. It’s not like when we were little and I did it every day before she learned to do it herself.

She doesn’t like her long blonde locks, but I love them. They always make me think of a fairy tale, which seems appropriate since we are both princesses.

“As long as I don’t have to dress like a hooker, it’s perfect,” she tells me, making me laugh. I don’t think I could get Alena to show that much skin, even if I held her down and put the outfit on her myself.

“I say keep it simple on the outfit.” I walk over to the bed, picking up a dress I know will look perfect on her. I talked her into getting it forever ago, but it’s sat in the back of her closet since then. “This.”

I hold up the green dress, knowing it will make her blonde hair even brighter. She might not like her hair, but I think it makes her shine like a star. Plus, the dress is somewhat modest, coming to her knees, with little capped sleeves. It will look perfect on her. Maybe a little too perfect for our plans though. This dress might not scare away her future husband.

“I can’t wear that. I’ll have to wear heels.”

I have to stifle a laugh. Alena is the worst in heels. It’s actually pretty comical to see her in them. Like a little baby deer learning to walk.

“Yep. I’ve seen you in heels. You’re a walking accident waiting to happen. So heels it is.”

I pick up a pair of black heels that will go well with the dress. The point is to make her seem like a mess if we want to scare away the man demanding her hand in marriage. The man who will take my sister away from me. It’s always been the two of us. I still remember when Mom brought her home from the hospital. I thought she’d be mine to take care of, to protect from the crappy-ish parents we had, and that’s what I did. And that’s what I’m doing today.

We are going to send this potential husband running for the hills. Though after the picture I saw of him, I’m not sure he’s ever run from anything in his life. He has his sights set on my sweet, innocent little sister, and I don’t know if he can be stopped. She’s too soft for a man who looks like he could rip someone in half with his bare hands.

Handing her the heels, I grab my own dress. Unlike Al, I love dressing up. Hair, makeup, and clothes have been my obsession since I could walk. I slip on the tight red dress and pull at it a little to make sure it’s all in place.

“Wait, are you trying to get his attention so he’ll marry you? I thought we were scaring him off,” Alena says.

I watch as panic lights up her face. I did try and take Al’s place when I found out someone had called for her hand in marriage. I knew she didn’t want to get married, just like me. At least not to a king. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life as royalty. I want something more simple. But for Alena I’d do anything, including asking if I could take her place. I was older and had been asked multiple times, but each time, my parents turned them down. The one good thing they’d ever done for me. But when King Roman called for Al, our parents jumped all over it and he would have no one but her. From my understanding I don’t think trying to get him to look at me could possibly work. He was intent on having Alena. The only thing we could do was make him think she wasn’t that great of a catch. It’s all we could come up with. Though I have a feeling this isn’t going to work. Alena never gets how much she really glows without even trying.

But I can’t help but wonder at the look on her face. Is there jealousy there? Maybe she likes the king a little more than she’s willing to admit aloud.

“Whatever you want,” I tell her. Because I will do whatever she needs me to do. We always do that for each other. We’re a team. A team that is about to be split up.

“Girls!” my mom yells before the door opens. “Let’s go.” She gives us a glance to make sure we look presentable because that’s all she cares about. She turns and heads out of the room, a glass full of wine in hand like always. Hopefully she’s had enough to not be a total pain-in-the-ass tonight.

I watch Alena slip on the heels and almost fall over. I snort, unable to help myself, while putting my own on.

“Come on.” I lock my arm with hers to help her walk so she doesn’t hurt herself before we even get there. We make our way towards the great room with only a few minor stumbles along the way.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Al whispers. I hate the tremble in her voice. It makes a protectiveness rise up in me “I’m so shy. I don’t know if I can make a fool of myself.”

“I’ll be right here. We’ve got this,” I reassure her.

I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll be right here to make a fool of myself right along with her. Hopefully this king will think we’re a hot mess and run for the hills, wanting nothing to do with us. She looks up at me an

d nods.

When we turn the corner into the great room we both freeze. Everyone looks at us, but my eyes go to one spot, and I feel every part of my body come alive.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper to myself.

The man standing against the far wall has his eyes trained on me. They are the greenest I’ve ever seen in my life. His giant arms are folded over his chest, and I know instantly from his stance he’s a guard. He’s built like a tank, with big muscles and a wide chest. His hair is so thick and dark, I know our babies would have hair just like him. Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I had that thought.

As if he can read my mind, a smirk pulls at his full lips.

Someone steps in front of him, blocking my view. I don’t know if I’m thankful for that or not. It’s then I notice it’s Roman. His eyes are focused fully on my sister. He looks almost angry. It’s then I realize it’s because she’s looking where I was looking. At the mystery man with green eyes. I can see jealousy written all over Roman’s face.

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