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But to a castle.
Mine.
My birth parents.
And to the country who needed the heir to their throne.
Me.
Chapter One
Samira
Present Day, two weeks before Christmas
“All I’m asking…” I stare down at the King of Banalia, Frederick Cornelius the third—who was a cousin by marriage to the current crown even though he had his own, then again the three small countries that have all been in our royal line were settled next to one another right by Denmark, the populations were small but the heritage was huge. “Is if you would just attempt to consider it.”
“No.”
“Well, that was quick.” Would it be a crime to throw a book at a new king? Actually, I think it stated in the law that assault would actually get me thrown into prison—I always wondered if we had dungeons and really didn’t need to find out.
He sighed, but still didn’t close his book or look up. “That was the fourth time you’ve asked me and I have it on good authority you asked my cousin as well.”
My left eye twitched. How did he even know these things? “At least give me a reason why you won’t marry me and take that, that—” I couldn’t even bear to say it. “—heathen’s place!”
“Heathen, wow, using bigger words these days, color me impressed.” He smirked, his white teeth showing before disappearing behind an unamused frown as he tucked a basically nonexistent lock of blond hair from his forehead, he’d never had a hair out of place, never truly spoke out of turn—at least in public, apparently I didn’t count—and had the nickname Golden King. Figured. “And the answer is still no, also I’m a bit insulted you asked Arthur first.”
I rolled my eyes, Arthur was a prince, of course I’d ask him, I mean his father had no intention of passing the torch anytime soon, but he would be king of his country, if he lived long enough to make it past his partying ways. “I asked him first because I assumed his playboy lifestyle would fit right into it but when I went into the room.” My cheeks heated as the vision of what I actually saw replayed in my mind. Girl on top of him, him with a black feather, I looked away before I was traumatized for life but there was definitely a lot of excitement. “He had, er, company.”
“Was there a bracelet dangling from the door?” Frederick’s tone was bored as per usual, uninterested, more or less, like I was about to get a complete lecture on why bracelets on doors mattered.
After a painful minute of absolute silence, I finally whispered, “Yes.”
He turned another page like the multitasker of the century. “Assume it always belongs to the person who was wearing it and don’t enter unless you want trauma for life, I once found my great aunt in there, some things you just can’t unsee, Samira.”
He still hadn’t truly looked up from his dusty book, though in between scolding me he’d had two sips of whiskey and turned at least one page… I would hate him if he hadn’t saved me through University.
Math was never my strong suit, actually studying was never my strong suit until he came along and made me feel so dumb I studied harder, passed my classes with brilliance only to have him say. “See? You just needed a challenge.”
A friendship was born never to be stopped and wouldn’t it be better to marry your friend rather than some long-lost heir to the throne who grew up in New York has no manners and went to law school. He even minored in art! Art was not helpful in politics.
I shuddered. “Anyway, you need a wife, my parents are archaically might I add, trying to marry me off to the rustic long lost prince of New York who’s hellbent on getting on a throne he doesn’t even seem to want.”
“Mmmm.” Frederick still didn’t look up. “Sounds like a you problem.”
I slammed my hand against the side of the green leather chair he was splayed all over. The damn man didn’t even flinch, he just let out the longest sigh in the history of sighs. “Are we done here? I really want to finish this chapter and I have tea later.”
Tea. He had tea. Sure, black tea, green tea, any sort of tea was clearly more important than me.
Oh no. That rhymed. He was making me crazy! Would it kill him to just respond with some sort of emotion? Or to put his damn book down for one second and make eye contact?
I clasped my hands in front of my waist. My red dress felt too tight as it wrapped around my body, my nude heels too tall, and did we really need to wear nylons every day in the palace? Mine suddenly felt itchy, bombarding. I hated it so much, but was never allowed to complain.
I was a princess by right, by birth, but my title literally gave me nothing, all I had was that. A title. And all my family wanted was for me to marry the soon to be king. I thought maybe it would be okay if I could choose one of the three.
But the problem with that scenario, the other two had zero interest in me, they viewed me as a sister and nothing more. We’d known each other too long, had too many secrets, too much exposure, which in my opinion made it better because I at least knew them. At least we’d suffer together and we could eventually just be partners in crime, in trying to be the best leaders. I even at one point thought I’d turn the other eye and let them cheat, which was a horrible position to be in, but marrying a stranger? No.
This other guy? All I knew was he liked art, he’d never been trained the way we had, and was crass.
