The King sits across from me and sighs. “Don’t pretend like this is a surprise.”

I clench the arms of my chair. “It absolutely is a surprise,” I say. “Considering I’m your rightful heir.”

My father leans back in his chair and eyes me. He’s a thin man with graying hair, a smooth face, and gaunt eyes. He looks tired, and that’s because he barely sleeps. The man works harder than anyone else I know. He keeps saying that royals must do twice as much as the commoner, since we’re held to the highest standards imaginable. He’s rail thin and works out all the time, though you couldn’t tell. I suspect all his muscle just disappears from stress.

“Since when did you care about that?” he asks me. “You haven’t lived in the castle for years.”

“Just because I live on my own, doesn’t mean I’m not interested in becoming king.”

He slowly narrows his eyes while watching me. I hate when he does that. It’s so fucking demeaning, like he’s trying to decide if you’re a serious human or not. He’s been doing it my whole fucking life. He does it to the ministers sometimes, too. I can only imagine what they think.

“And yet you’ve spent all this time frittering away your inheritance, sleeping with any woman that will have you, and generally wasting your time.”

I have to keep my cool. I can’t blow up on him. That won’t solve anything. We’ve always had a strained relationship, and I know he never approved of any choices I’ve made, but I had no clue it went this far.

“Do you really believe that’s all I’ve been doing?” I ask him slowly.

He sighs. “Yes, you have your charities. And I’ll admit, you’ve done remarkably well. But, son, how can I possibly believe that you want to take the kingdom seriously?”

“Because I’m here,” I say. “You think it’s easy returning to the castle after all this time? I know you don’t approve of how I’ve been living, father, but you know I’d make a good king.”

“Maybe,” he says, shaking his head. He leans back in his chair and glances up at the clock. “But maybe not. Your cousin has been a part of this court his entire life, which is saying more than you. He also has several heirs and a lovely wife that will be a wonderful help if he takes the throne. The fact is, you aren’t established.”

I laugh, genuinely surprised. “That’s it, isn’t it? You hate that I haven’t settled down.”

My father’s frown deepens. “It’s unbecoming of you to sleep around the way you do. It tarnishes our reputation.”

“Unbelievable. I thought you’d be above such absurd cultural prudishness, but apparently not.” I stand up and glare at him. “If you choose Julian over me, you’ll be making a big mistake.”

“I don’t think so,” he says to me, not backing down. “But nothing is official yet. There’s always time for you to settle.”

I bark out a short laugh and turn away. “It’s a shame you see the world in such stark contrast, father. But nothing is as simple as you think.”

“Prove me wrong,” he says.

I don’t respond, and just head to the door. I leave his chambers and walk back out into the hallway, trying to keep myself under control.

That fucking bastard. He really is going to choose Julian over me. I knew it was a real possibility but hearing it from his lips just makes it so much worse. I didn’t think he’d actually go this far with it, but apparently I’m really being cut out.

I won’t back down though. Julian would be bad for this fucking country. This place is socially and culturally backwards enough as it is, it’s time to bring Polovia into the twenty-first century. I’m the perfect man for the job. I was to make people’s lives better, but I know Julian and his cronies will continue to bleed the commoners dry until there’s nothing left.

I’m not going to stand aside and watch it happen. It was a mistake to leave court all those years ago, but I’m going to fix that mistake.

I head back toward my room, lost in thought, trying to decide what to do. As I reach my room, I notice a steward standing in the hallway, staring straight ahead. I smile to myself. Andrew must have sent him to watch over me.

“What’s your name?” I ask the man. He’s in his forties, tall, thin, and going bald.

“Richard, my prince,” he says.

“Well, Rich, I want you to get someone for me. She’s a maid named Hazel.”

He hesitates. “I know the girl,” he says.

“Good. Bring her here.”

He bows slightly and quickly walks off.

I watch him go before going into my rooms. I sigh and shut the door behind me, not really sure what I’m doing.

My father and his court are so fucking backwards. They care more about someone with a family than they do about someone with a proven track record of good management and charity. My charities have flourished over these years because I’m damn good at running them, just as I’ll be damn good at running this country. But just because I don’t have a wife and children, he can’t imagine putting me on the throne.

It makes no fucking sense, or at least it wouldn’t if we were anywhere else in the world. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in Polovia, the backward-ass capital of Earth. And I want to rule it.

I lean against the counter in my small kitchen. I hesitate a second before finding a bottle of whisky and pouring myself a drink. I need to figure out how to change my father’s perspective of me, and I need to do it fast. Julian may not be the official crown prince yet, but he will be if I don’t do something.

A wife and children. That’s all Julian has on me. Maybe he has more experience at court, but my father knows that counts for less and less these days. We aren’t in the fucking sixteenth century anymore.

I sip my whisky and think. I forget all about asking the steward to send Hazel to my apartment, at least until I hear a knock at my door. It pulls me from my thoughts. I walk over and open the door, smirking at the girl standing in front of me.

Hazel is fucking gorgeous. She smiles at me, a little unsure of herself. I can tell she doesn’t know why she’s here. Frankly, I don’t really know why I wanted to call her over. Maybe because I want to fuck her, which is obvious, but I should be keeping to myself right now. I need to change my bad reputation, not feed it by fucking the staff.

“I’m glad you knocked this time,” I say to her.

“I knew you’d make that joke.” She smiles despite herself, though.

“Come in,” I say.

“What can I do for you, Prince Nolan?” she asks as she steps inside. I close the door behind her before walking back into the kitchen. I grab my drink and turn to face her.

As I stand there and look at her, I have an idea. She smiles at me, uncertain and a little shy. I like how reserved she is, and although she’s not Polovian, she still has something special about her. And I know exactly what she can do for me.