AllFreeNovel
Share Us
All eyes at the table slide to Etienne, who’s now resting his feet on the table, his head lolled against the back of his chair, snoring.
“Well…no one wants to see a parenting failure crowned king,” the king says.
“Take that back,” I interject, casting a sidelong glance at my mother, who, despite her best efforts, could not keep Etienne on the straight and narrow. He was always getting into trouble. He came out of the womb fist first and was disappearing from the careful watch of nannies and bodyguards since the age of seven. He sent three governesses into retirement.
“Mother did her best.”
The queen’s subtle smile tells me she appreciates anyone sticking up for her in the face of a husband who largely ignores her.
“And you should learn by her example and do your best. Get married. Start a family. Get on with your job and stop fucking around.”
“Since when have I ever fucked around?” I say through gritted teeth. In any sense of the word—but I don’t add that. We don’t need to have a conversation about how painfully literally that applies to me.
“You know what I mean!” the king bellows.
“Very well!” I exclaim, pushing back my chair and standing at the table. “I’ll choose a wife.”
The king laughs. “It’s well past time for you to choose. One has been chosen for you.”
He looks to the queen. My mother’s face heats. “Well, dear. As you know, the governor of the North owns Frost Bay Beverages, and his daughter Kala is still single….”
“No,” I say, cutting her off.
“She’s well-liked. Well educated. A world-class young lady.”
Etienne snorts. “World-class spinster.”
“Oh, the drunkard awakens?” I shove his feet off the table, then turn back to my parents. “Absolutely not,” I say.
The queen looks at me pleadingly. “You know those unfortunate names they’ve applied to all those beers ever since the incident at your 18th birthday. Marriage could mean a new agreement with the governor to change the labels. The governor is hinting at a whole new line of ciders named after the royal family in a more positive way. And, if you marry Kala, he’s promised to take the word ‘Reckless’ off all the labels.”
Sig grunts. “The people of Gravenland like our family as we are. They like our so-called image just fine.”
“Yes,” Flora agrees. “I rather like the names. Torben is the bitter, hoppy Favored Prince IPA, which suits. I rather think Etienne enjoys Bad Prince Lager.”
Etienne belches. “Sure do.”
“And Sig. Wild Prince Stout fits him perfectly,” she continues.
The King winces.
“Princess Honey Blonde is the only one we don’t have to replace,” the queen says with a nod to my sister. “The label is quite pretty, I must say.”
The king growls. “Enough chatter. Torben, you will marry the beer heiress and be done with it.”
If I’ve learned anything from my father over the years, it’s how to strike a bargain. Instead of continuing to be petulant about it, I make him an offer.
“How about this: if I don’t announce my engagement by the end of the month, I’ll marry the beer heiress.”
The king tilts his head. “You’ve already said no to every eligible date in the country. We’ve matched you with dozens of suitable women from all over Europe, all over the world, in fact.”
Yes, all of them were heiresses or daughters of political families, all perfectly polished. And perfectly dull. The beer heiress? That was a fiasco from 17 years ago that everyone still remembers and talks about. There’s nothing wrong with her, but…she’s not for me. And I do not wish the media to rehash that unfortunate long-ago event.
The king throws up his hands. “Where do you think you’ll find a lady you haven’t already rejected, Favored Prince?”
A smile pulls at my lips as I speak calmly. “The only place I haven’t looked yet. America.”
The king laughs, and not even in a dismissive way. It’s merry, and the queen joins him in it.
