A week later, at another dinner party thrown by another king, I walked in on him in a side hallway with some other princess on her knees in front of him.
And that was when I decided my mother had been right. I had been born in the wrong century. Sure, I loved having a cell phone, and Netflix, and all of that as much as the next girl. But when it came to love, and giving my heart away, I longed for a time when princes were noble, and when love was something true.
My sisters thought that ball that night was going to be dumb because they thought it was old-fashioned. I thought it was dumb because I knew it was only pretending to be old-fashioned. Even with the gowns and the ballroom dancing, it was still going to be full of crude, spoiled, arrogant princes who only wanted one thing from princesses like me.
“You two ready to go yet?”
Imogen poked her head into the room and stepped in, her chartreuse green and gold dress shimmering and bringing out the green of her eyes and the red-gold of her hair. Somehow, the three of us had managed to look totally different, and yet unquestionably like sisters when we were all lined up together. Isla with her dark hair, dark eyes, and enviable curves, Imogen with her long legs, fiery red hair, and green eyes. And me, with my crystal blue eyes, slender, petite form, and long blonde hair. And by “long”, I mean I hadn't cut it since I was seven.
“Can’t we just skip this, go lock ourselves in the media room, and watch movies and stuff our faces with ice cream all night?”
Imogen and I burst out laughing at Isla’s pouting words.
“I am so down for that,” Imogen groaned, sinking onto the corner of our youngest sister’s bed. “Tonight is going to blow.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I rolled my eyes at Isla with a groan. “I would totally blow this off if I didn’t think Mom and Dad would kill us if we did.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Imogen snorted. “Isla, I think Dad would notice if we weren’t there tonight. Besides, on the bright side, this is Dad actually letting us date.”
“As if it’s the seventeen hundreds, sure.”
I snorted out a laugh. See? Like I said, old-fashioned.
“It could actually be fun, you know,” I said, not really believing my own words. “Yeah, there are some douchey princes out there—”
“Some?”
I grinned. Oh did I know that.
In the end, of course, we finished primping in the mirror, took a final moment to grumble about the ball, and then headed down to the festivities.
In movies, and books, and in my dreams, the Prince Charming who swooped in and swept the princess of her feet was perfect. And it wasn’t like I was jaded or something. I mean, I’d been burned once, sure, but it wasn’t like I’d sworn off men or sworn off the feelings that came with it. I just hadn’t found one yet that did anything for me.
I just had no idea how much that night was going to change that for me. In so many ways…
Chapter 2
Cade
“You ready for this?”
I rolled my eyes at Caspian as we stepped through the formal front entry-way into the palace.
“Sure,” I sighed, heading immediately to a bar set up by one of the immense windows overlooking the countryside of Avlion around King Lucian’s castle. My brother followed, wordlessly nodding as I ordered us both a bourbon, neat, from the middle-aged bartender.
“Thanks.”
I tossed two $100 bills on the bar and turned to give Caspian his drink.
“Oh, sir, the bars are open for the ball.”
I glanced back at the man.
“That’s fine, consider it a tip then.”
I liked being generous with money. And not in an obnoxious flaunting way, but in meaningful ways. Both of us were, actually. Twins think alike like that. I liked rewarding hard work, especially when it probably wasn’t being appreciated. No one appreciated a good bartender.
I donated to charity, often. I supported a wounded warrior fund back home in our kingdom of Marland. Caspian supported a non-profit that made sure single, destitute mothers and their children were clothed, fed, and housed. And yes, we both tipped ludicrously well. Because in the end, it was just money. But by the same token, money was everything when you didn’t have it by the truckload like we did. Our father had raised us to appreciate that, and in our world of royalty and privilege, that was a rare lesson to learn.
But Dad had taught us well. After all, he’d come from nothing — a chauffeur’s mechanic son who’d caught the eye of the Princess of Marland. One look, and he’d never looked away.
That was another thing Dad had taught us — keep fighting for what you want, and never let someone else tell you that you can’t have it “just because.” Our dad knew what he wanted with our mom, and he fought tooth and nail for it. It’d been quite the scandal in Marland when the pure-lineage princess and only daughter of King Horace took a shine to her chauffeur’s son. I mean, princesses don’t date mechanics. And they sure as shit don’t marry them.