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Chapter One
Pricilla
The sound of the water falling behind me made me smile as it drowned out the sounds of the jungle. I hated living here, and being the king’s daughter. Maybe life would be better if I wasn’t like my dad and so afraid of everything. My father, like me, didn’t like to make waves. We wanted to make everybody happy and have everyone get along. Our last name didn’t help matters, either.
Cowardly. Pricilla Cowardly.
That name wouldn’t get me anywhere except laughed out of places. I know this because it happened to my parents all the time. Mom’s strength didn’t even help. The whole pride knew she made the decisions and forced my father to do his job.
That’s not love. That’s not even respect. And that’s not how I want my life to be. A lone tear fell on the paper of the sketch of a dress I looked at. This was my work, my idea, and I put a little piece of my heart into each drawing I did.
I took a deep breath and let my pencil fly on the paper. A collar to accent a long neck, combined with a deep v neckline to accent her breasts.Yes!I could see the gown so clearly in my head. I knew it would be something fit for a queen or goddess to wear.
Maybe not the red queen. Her neck lacked the elegant length of her sister, the white queen.
My sigh echoed in the enclosed place. I didn’t want to be “Queen of the Jungle”. And I sure didn’t want to pick a male from the pride to marry.Arrogant, lazy bastards.From the time of my birth, people have discussed who would be the best mate for me and when I should take over.
Who wants that kind of life?
I rubbed my delicate hand across my forehead and glanced at my reflection in the small pool of water at my feet. Maybe I wasn’t the prettiest lioness around with my orangey eyes and tawny fur. Blond tips glittered against my tanned skin, and my nose was small and dainty.
I held out my hands, admiring my slender fingers tipped with delicate claws. The book I read said to practice the life you want. So I do. I dress and carry myself the way I imagine a successful fashion designer would.
And I dreamed of being swept off my feet in a whirlwind love affair. Someone who wanted to be only with me, and not feel the need to service the other females. My dream was to be some place with color and style. Not the green and brown of the jungle.
Besides, even if I became queen, no one would listen to me. I would be ignored and mocked the way they do my dad.
“Oh Prissy?.” Tammy sang my name and strolled into my safe space.
My eyes rolled back in my head. “What do you want?”
“What do you think she wants, Prissy?” Ashley crept in, followed by Brittany.
The three of them smirked at me and I felt my fur stand on end. I blew out a breath and put my sketchbook away.
“Today’s your birthday, Prissy.” Brittany came closer. “We wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”
Sabrina and Heather came in from the sides. One had a cake and the other a small box. “You’re supposed to take over the pride tomorrow, and we wanted to bury the hatchet.”
I looked around at each of them, dread filling my stomach. “Why now?”
They all laughed and stepped closer. The only way out for me would be to fight.
Tammy reached out and stroked my arm. “We were talking and realized that all these years there’s been an unfair tension between us and you.” Her hand took mine, and she licked her lips before she smiled. “You’re about to be our queen. We don’t want to fight with you anymore.”
Brittany moved behind me. “We want to be on the queen’s good side.” I tensed as her hands landed on my shoulders and massaged them. “How cool is it to be besties with the one leading?”
My teeth bit into my bottom lip and I relaxed under Brittany’s touch.
“I baked you this cake. Your mom told me you love apples.” Heather held up the cake, and I noticed she even shaped it into an apple. The frosting shimmered bright red as she brought it closer. The smell made my mouth water.
“Let’s sit down and celebrate.” Tammy gave my hand a small kiss. “Please?”
My head bobbed yes, and we all took a seat. Sabrina pulled out a thermos and poured fresh cream for me. “I got cream for you. I know it’s your favorite. You always get some after class.”
She wasn’t wrong. It was my weakness, the sweet, frothy treat I allowed myself. “Thank you.”
Heather served the cake up and we ate in companionable silence. The cake was moist and had chunks of apples that popped in my mouth when I chewed. Once I finished my cup of cream, Sabrina filled it again.
