“Yeah, fuck leaving this room.” Lenny dropped down into one of the chairs. “I may never even go back to Kentucky.”
“Well, I’m leaving.” I looked around the room. “I cheated last night, according to the four of you. Tonight, I’m not going to cheat. I’m going to be the first one downstairs and if I see someone I like, I’m leaving with him.”
“Oh fuck.” Maximo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “We’ve created a monster.”
“We were just kidding about you cheating, you know. We kind of set you up.” Simon leaned over on his elbow. “I was just looking for a good excuse to spank you.”
“Yeah, I know you were.” I winked at him. “But I’m still going to prove that I can charm the pants off a guy on my own.”
“I guess you’re going to need a new dress.” Maximo exhaled sharply. “It looks like we’re leaving this room after all.”
Chapter 13: Prince Harland
“Another royal wedding!” My father raised his wine glass and there was a cheer from my brother’s harem of existing wives. “Rohr will be married again this spring!”
“Who is it this time? Another virgin from a third world country that he knocked up?” I stabbed my steak and looked over at my betrothed.
“No.” She trembled as she stood.
“Aria, what are you doing?” I blinked and felt my heart sink into my stomach.
“The newest addition to the royal family is Princess Aria of Lythonia!” My father roared with excitement and drank from his goblet.
“What the fuck!?” I slung my chair backwards as I stood. “I’m engaged to Princess Aria!”
“I’m the eldest son.” My brother stood and narrowed his eyes at me. “I am allowed to choose any woman to be my bride.”
“I’m going to kill you!” I jumped on the table and with a leap, I tackled my brother where he stood, hammering my fist into his face.
Yeah, I guess you could say that was a mistake.
My father sentenced me to forty lashes at the hand of the executioner and then imprisoned me for forty days with only one small meal at sunrise each day. It was the penalty for striking the royal heir to the Southern Isles. At one time, the penalty was death, but the law had been changed to something more acceptable for the worl
d media. We seemed to live and die by the world media, even though we were barely recognized as a sovereign nation in the waters near New Zealand. We were recognized as the royal family, but we held no power at all outside of my father’s court. By the time I emerged from my cell, I was weak, weary, and while the wounds on my back had healed, the scars remained.
“SON, YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND the politics of this.” My father exhaled deeply as he stood on the balcony overlooking the Southern Isles.
“Politics?” I shook my head angrily. “Do you know how absurd that sounds? We’re a monarchy. We are a part of the past. The only reason the real government even lets us keep living in this castle is because we’re a fucking tourist attraction!”
“While we may not have any say in the day to day affairs of the Southern Isles, we are still important to the survival of our country.” My father’s eyebrows came together in a concerned expression. “Lythonia needed security in knowing that their blood was represented in my court.”
“I was engaged to Princess Aria!” I put my hand to my chest. “I was going to make their blood a part of your court—our court.”
“Yes, but you are not my firstborn. Princess Aria wants to be queen. She’s the one that approached me about it. Besides, I’ve got another plan for you—one that will mean more to the Southern Isles than that union.” He leaned against the balcony. “I want you to marry an American woman.”
“An American woman?” I scoffed and shook my head. “What good is that? It’s a political nosedive.”
“Yes, but everyone loves a royal wedding. Just look how much attention England has gotten recently. Royal weddings are huge!” He turned to me and smiled. “But it needs to be a fairy tale and frankly, that’s why we need an American.”
“This is bullshit and you know it. There’s no way a Southern Isles wedding is going to draw attention from the national media. Half the world pretends we don’t exist and the other half laughs at us because my brother—your fucking heir—has married a dozen women!” I gripped the balcony angrily and then pushed back from it. “I’m done with this. If you’re going to let him marry Princess Aria, so be it. He has that claim by birthright, but I’m not marrying a random American woman because you think it would be good for publicity.”
“Then you will be exiled.” His voice stopped me in my tracks before I could get to the door.
“Exiled? You would exile your own son because I won’t bend the knee to your ridiculous request?” I turned back towards him.
“I would.” He nodded.
“Fine.” I felt my nostrils flare. “Then I will marry, but once I have taken a bride, I am challenging Rohr to Mortem Coronam. Death for the crown, crown or death.”