CHAPTER 2
Cort
I entered my father’s private chambers, and took a deep, measured breath as I walked through the door. I was nervous, but I was trying to convey an air of confidence and total self-assurance, especially in front of my father’s primary advisors, who were seated at the table in the center of the large room.
They all stood up to greet me, bowing their heads in allegiance and respect. I smiled and nodded at them, but kept my eyes focused on my father, who was seated at the forefront of the illustrious table that had been the main focus of the King’s chambers for over two hundred years. Even my position as the Prince of Ronovia did not render me immune to its impressive history.
Ronovia was a small sovereign state near the borders of France, Italy and Switzerland. The country had been ruled by my family since its formation and even though we were a small country, we were immensely proud of our heritage.
I could practically hear the voices of the great men who had sat at this table, dwelling over major decisions that had shaped the course of his nation’s history. It was an inspiring legacy and one he hoped he would be able to do justice one day.
He had a feeling that day was coming.
“Please leave us,” my father, King Tristian Monreau, said, motioning for his advisors to exit the room. They did so quickly, shutting the massive doors behind them.
Now it was just the two of them.
“Father,” I said.
“Have a seat my son,” Tristian replied.
I sat down at the other end of the table and leaned back in the stiff-backed chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Son, as I’m sure you are aware, you are nearing your thirtieth birthday in little more than a month,” my father said.
“I am aware,” I replied.
“Well, I am also approaching my seventieth birthday,” Tristian added. “I am nearing the point of retirement for Kings of our nation.”
“Father, you are as fit as a fiddle,” I said. “I don’t see what your age has to do with anything.”
“Well, our royal charter declares it to be so. And I feel it as well. I’m getting older, I’m getting tired, and it’s come time for me to declare an heir to secede me in my duties. I am going to begin the process of selecting a new king.”
I held my breath. I tried not to show his nerves or how anxious I now was. It was evident to everyone that this was about to happen, but I wasn’t sure his father was ever going to give up his rule. Unlike most other countries, it was purely up to the King of Ronovia to decide if he wanted to pick an heir to secede him, or if it would be done by chronological order of the first-born. So my father could choose someone other than myself.
“I am pleased to hear this, father,” I said, as I tried to hide my excitement.
“Well, you shouldn’t be too pleased yet.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I replied. My father was starting to worry me. Is he actually thinking of someone else to be the heir?
“According to the laws set forth by the council, the son of a king cannot assume the crown even if decreed unless that son is married. Single men can’t become King.”
I felt as if I’d just been slapped. What was going on here?
“I thought that was all just a rumor…“
“It isn’t a rumor. It is a royal law set forth by the council over two hundred years ago.”
I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I’d waited for this since the day I was a child, and now it was about to be taken from me because I was single? I refused to marry just anyone. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I ever wanted to be married. I loved the freedom of being able to pick and choose who I wanted to bend over for the night. I was not going to go down without a fight. But these matters had to be handled delicately. I had to show that I had the poise to handle a crisis such without resorting to childish antics.
“I’m sorry. I always thought this was something that mother told me to scare me into marriage. You know how mother has always wanted grandchildren.”
“I’m aware of all of that. But you can’t assume the crown if you are not married. That is all there is to it.”
“So, you expect me to just pick some woman at random and marry her? That sounds positively… medieval.”
“You are the prince. Any woman would be happy to marry you. It is doubtful you will have a problem finding a partner, Cort,” my father said.
“Father, I’m not just looking for a ‘partner.’ When I get married, I want it to be to someone I love with all of my heart. Not just to anyone, or to someone who wants to be a king’s wife.”
I’ve had my fair share of women over the years. And I enjoyed it. But none of them were women that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. After I had them, I was just no longer interested in them. Besides, most of them truly only wanted me so that they could brag to their friends that they fucked a prince.
“I’m not sure where you get these silly, romantic notions. That isn’t how things work for us, son. Do you think I was madly in love with your mother when I married her? No. I did it because it was expected of me. And you will find a woman and do the same if you want to be king.”
Anger started to bubble up in my chest. I wasn’t being a romantic. I was being practical. If I were to marry someone, I would want to at least care for her. Want to be around her. Not just have fuck her silly at first and then be bored with her afterwards. I clenched my jaw to prevent me from saying something that I shouldn’t.
“Father, this is a silly rule and I think you know it. I’m going to find a way to appeal to the council and get his archaic rule changed. I’ll not lie down and let myself be forced into this.”
“You have the right to challenge the ruling, but I doubt you will get very far. These rules are in place for a reason, and you aren’t going to change the council’s mind. You may leave now, Cort.”
I stood up and began walking out. “We will just have to see about that.”
I let the large doors to the chambers slam shut behind him.
The council had no idea who they were dealing with.