CHAPTER THREE
Maddie
“You look beautiful, little princess,” Prince Vitalievich said to me, his mouth close to my ear. He told me to call him Pavel, but I wasn’t yet able to think of him so intimately. I wasn’t sure I ever could.
“Thank you.” My voice was icy in its politeness, but I wasn’t able to warm it up. My entire body had grown cold as I waited for our cue to enter our farce of an engagement ball.
It didn’t seem to bother him. All that appeared to matter to him was that I was wearing the long silk ballgown he’d chosen for me. Once again, I was covered from throat to wrist to ankle, even though the bodice of the dress was so tight it nearly cut off my ability to breathe. Its color was its only salvation… a gold that very nearly matched my hair.
As requested, I was also wearing the diamonds he had selected for me. My hair was pulled up and away from my face to feature the cascade of diamonds at my ears, and even though they pulled at my piercings, nothing was as heavy as the twenty-two-carat monstrosity on my ring finger.
On my left side, my mother squeezed my hand then held it between her equally cold ones. I didn’t look her way. If I did, I knew I’d cry, then I’d be punished later. I had no doubt about that.
Five days had passed since my introduction to the prince. Five days in which I’d begged and cried and screamed, all to no avail.
My father refused to change his mind about the wedding. And he wouldn’t even postpone the engagement announcement to give me time to accept my fate.
The only blessing had been when Prince Vitalievich had left the same day as our first meeting and hadn’t arrived back to our island until this morning. But he’d returned with the same sardonic smirk, the same nearly black eyes. He’d returned with more instructions and orders that I must learn in short order or else risk his wrath.
Inside the ballroom, the music changed, and my heart started beating harder. The double doors opened, and ahead of me, my sisters and their families filed in as they were introduced to the over one-thousand-person crowd.
Next were my younger brothers, the heir and the spare. They both had taken on the self-important air of my father, and it was getting worse as they transitioned into adults. From the television monitor placed near the doors, I watched them walk between the hundreds of people, unsmiling as they made their way to the stage.
My mother let go of my hand when it was her and Papa’s turn. I still couldn’t meet her gaze for more than a few seconds, though I hadn’t been able to stop from glancing into the face so much like mine. Her eyes shone, resembling the sea in the late evening. My own eyes welled before I could look away, and it took everything inside me to not let the tears escape.
I had been warned by my father just prior to getting dressed that I would behave myself as was fitting for a future queen. He’d warned the same the day before that and every day since the engagement party was announced.
“You can be married kicking and screaming, or you can be married with grace and dignity,” he said. “But you will marry Prince Vitalievich, and if you do it with grace and dignity, you’ll be allowed to see your family again. If not…” he shook his head, not needing to finish the threat.
When there was no one left but me and the prince, he turned to me. “Smile, my little princess. Don’t disappoint me.” I forced my lips to turn upward as the music changed, the new notes soaring to life. Apparently, the smile wasn’t suitable because he added, “We will have time later to discuss your punishment if you fail to please me tonight.”
I lifted my chin, pulled my shoulders back, even when the movement caused the tight dress to squeeze more air from my lungs. I directed my face to settle into the radiant smile I’d mastered over the years.
“Better?” I asked, my smile not faltering.
His black eyes scanned my features. “Very good. I look forward to seeing your other expressions, especially the ones you make when you’re naked and under me.”
I’d tried all my life to be a good person. Sure, I might have given my guards minor heart attacks when I slid down banisters or jumped into the sea, but surely those didn’t outweigh the charity work and outreaches I’d overseen.
I’d not caused my tutors too much trouble. I’d studied everything they’d given me, hungry for something to do besides stare out my window all day.
There’d been the trashy novel, the one that made my insides do funny things. But just that one. Was that so bad? Was the prince like the count in the book, my punishment for touching myself under the covers as I read it? For rubbing the place that felt so naughty and wonderful at the same time?
If so, then I never wanted to think of sex again. Promised I’d never touch myself again.
Please… I silently prayed. If I can escape this marriage, I promise to never do anything bad for all the rest of my life.
“And now, may I present the future Prince and Princess Pavel Leontiy Marka Vitalievich.”
Stomach churning, I waited until all the translations had been made — French, Russian, Serbo-Croatian, Arabic, English, and Spanish — before waiting until the prince was two steps in front of me before taking my first wobbling step.
Smile in place, I walked behind the bastard, who marched down the aisle with a long-legged stride that I needed to double to keep up.
Because I had to keep up.
It was one of the rules. And this was a test. I couldn’t falter.
The sides of my vision were growing dim by the time I reached the stage and the prince gestured for me to stand by his side. It was hard to breathe. The dress was like a boa constrictor, growing tighter each time I exhaled.
The flashes of the camera left blind spots in my vision, and when I tried to blink them away, they only grew darker.
I was going to faint.
I didn’t want to, but I was.
My knees buckled, and I grabbed the prince’s arm, digging in my fingers to keep from falling as my world continued to dim.
“The chair,” he ordered to someone I couldn’t see, then like a miracle, I was sitting. A drink was pressed into my hand. “Smile, damn you.”
I smiled up into the dark eyes of my fiancé, forced myself to let out a giggle even though I felt no better. I took a sip of the drink, a strong alcohol that burned its way past my lips and down my throat, blossoming in my belly.
Whatever it was did the trick, and in only a few minutes, I returned.
Back from the place of darkness and into a reality that was equally black.
But I didn’t falter again.
Prince Vitalievich would forgive the one slip. Wouldn’t he?
He didn’t.
I’d never been struck in my life, but after the last guest left and the doors of the palace closed, and my family had excused themselves one by one, the slap came so hard and so suddenly that I was on the floor before I realized his hand had lifted.
Then he walked away.
One slip.
One strike.
My lesson had been mercifully swift.
And the next morning, there had been no bruise, no sign of the punishment.
Another lesson… he was good at this.
At the breakfast table, I picked at my food, selecting only a few morsels of fruit, and even that threatened to sour in my belly. I was scared. Not from last night. Or not only from last night. At that moment, I was frightened of what I was about to do next. I wasn’t ready to surrender quite yet.
“Have you ever struck Mama, Papa?” I asked during a rare moment of quiet. Or maybe others were talking. I couldn’t tell based on the roaring of blood through my ears.
My father grew still, his fork hovering in the air only inches away from his mouth. It slowly lowered until it clicked on his plate, and he gave me a pointed look. “Your mother would never deserve such a punishment, my dear.”
Beside me, the prince chuckled, the sound low and deep.
Vaguely, I wondered what my next punishment would be. And if I was going to be punished once, I might as well make it a double.
Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to ask him if he was capable of hitting harder, but my mother cleared her throat, making me pause.
When I looked, she was staring at me, her dark blue eyes pinning me in place.
Was it a warning? A request? Both?
Her expression didn’t give her thoughts away, and I lowered my eyes to my plate.
“It’s a pity you won’t be joining us on the voyage to Monaco,” my father said, addressing the prince, and my head snapped in his direction, hope swelling in my chest. Could it be true?
The man beside me took a sip of his juice as I waited in agony, hoping for confirmation that what Papa said was a fact. Dark eyes slid to meet mine. “Yes, a pity. I’d been looking forward to spending more quality time with my fiancée but will settle on meeting you again in three days.”
Air nearly whooshed out of me, and I very nearly cheered.
Instead, I stabbed a chunk of mango, lifted it to my mouth, and chewed with the dainty little nibbles I’d been taught.
Inside, I was screaming three days. And not on the yacht.
I took another bite as my stomach unknotted. I’d been dreading being at sea with him more than anything. The confines of a boat made me claustrophobic just thinking about it. Not that I was claustrophobic. And not because the yacht was small.
It was anything but.
If I hadn’t been traded for it, I would have been in awe of the massive ship gliding majestically into port yesterday afternoon. My father had been pleased and gushed over the three pools, the dance floor, and the seemingly mile upon mile of gold leaf decorating everything from the bathroom fixtures to the walls.
“It’s over one hundred and twenty meters long,” Father had gushed during our tour. “And will sleep sixty-four with sixty-five crew.”
“I hope you enjoy it while I’m enslaved and frozen in Prince Vitalievich’s harem,” I’d quipped bitterly as he showed me the master suite. When he ignored me, I turned to face him. “Don’t you love me at all?”
Papa sighed and excused us from the group. I met my mother’s eye before we stepped out into the hall. His angry mask was back in place by the time he faced me again. “You will not embarrass me again, do you understand. Your hysterics are tiresome and ill-advised.”
Hysterics?
“He slapped me so hard I fell to the ground,” I reminded the man who’d sired me. My father only looked back at me with abject disappointment.
It wasn’t the first time I’d disappointed the great king. My very birth had been a disappointment. I’d seen video footage of the announcement that I’d been born a female. My father’s tight jaw and solemn eyes as the world learned that he had yet to be graced with an heir. The disappointment that was similar to what was on his deeply tanned features now.
“Then I suggest you do a better job of meeting his needs, Madeleina. I suggest you make him fall so deeply in love with you that he wants nothing more than to cherish you. You have the power, young lady, and you are wielding it unwisely.”
“But, Papa—”
“But, nothing, Madeleina,” he said sternly. “I will hear nothing more. You have languished all these years in the palace. Your mother and I deeply regret not insisting you wed when you were…” he searched for the right wording, “more malleable.”
I swept my arms out, touched the gold leaf on the wall. “But I’m sure this luxury soothes your wounds, now doesn’t it, Father?”
He raised his hand, and for a second, I thought he might strike me. I thought the prince’s temper had been contagious. Instead, he drew on his control, clenched his hand into a fist, and lowered it to his side.
“You test my patience, daughter,” he said, and his voice was almost weary now. The little girl inside of me wanted to throw my arms around him and beg him to hold me, to make it all better.
He wouldn’t, I knew.
It had been decreed.
It had been publicly announced.
It was done, just as he told me before.
“I’m sorry I was born female,” I said, one last stretch at defiance.
His gaze lingered on my face, but only for a moment before he turned and muttered, “Me too.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
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