His Princess

Tabby’s eyes light up at a thought. “He’s coming for dinner.”

My shoulders drop. I don’t know why she’s excited about that.

“Maybe you can make a fool of yourself. Make him realize that you aren’t the one he wants!” Tabby jumps up, and I can see this plan is already in motion.

2

Roman

“Are you sure about this?”

I look up at the question to see my top royal guard and best friend, Vlad, walking over to me.

“Do you have a better suggestion?” I say through clenched teeth. I’ve been through this with him a thousand times, and I can’t make myself any clearer.

“No. But I know you better than anyone else. And I know that you’re worried.”

“Let’s see how you do once you choose a bride.” I glare at him and then walk over to my desk, grabbing a set of cufflinks.

“Oh, come on, Roman, we both know that’s never happening.” He walks over to one of the seats in my office and sits down. “You’d never release me from my royal duty.”

I roll my eyes at him and give him the finger. “You’re released. Get out.”

“We both know you don’t want that,” he laughs, but then leans forward, becoming serious. “You’re my brother. Maybe not by birth or blood. But we were raised together since we were children. If I take a wife, it will be because you command me to. My duty is to my king.”

“And so your king says be useful,” I tell him, holding out a cufflink for him to help me put it on.

“Don’t you have servants for this?” he jokes, knowing how much I hate having royal staff.

When I was younger it never bothered me. There were always people around to help. But as I got older, I saw it was the job of our family to take care of them just as much as they take care of us. When my father passed away and the kingship fell on my shoulders, it turned into a responsibility. Now I prefer my privacy, even though there is someone around every corner.

“Just do it, and shut up.”

“Yes, my king,” he laughs, and fixes the cufflink. “She’s very pretty.”

“Watch your mouth,” I growl as he fastens the second one, and I step away.

“Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“When has my mood ever been light?” I ask as I slip on my suit jacket and walk over to the mirror.

“Good point.”

For a moment I allow myself to think about my bride—the wave of her long blonde hair, and her plump rosy lips. Her creamy delicate skin with a hint of pink when she blushes. Those soft blue eyes that are the color of baby blankets made for our sons.

“Thinking of my grandchildren?” a soft voice says from behind me, and I turn to see my mother.

How she’s able to read my mind so clearly is both terrifying and amazing.

“Aren’t I always?” I tease her. I walk over and give her a kiss on the cheek and wait as she says hello to Vlad. “Are you ready for dinner?”

My mother lives away from the palace now that I’m King and am to be married. She visits, but for the most part she keeps busy with her gardens and dogs. When my father passed away a few years ago, she said she was finally able to enjoy a quiet life away from social responsibilities, and she was going to make good use of it.

When I told her that I was ready to take a wife, she gave me a knowing smile. I can’t help but think she and Vlad talk a lot more than they lead me to believe. She arranged all of the royal procedures for asking for a bride’s hand in marriage, and she oversaw the agreement. I knew what I wanted, and I was afraid that if I was in a room and someone told me no that the result might not be what anyone wanted.

Part of that arrangement would be the first meeting with my bride-to-be. The wedding is scheduled for a week from now, but this will be the only meeting until then. All the plans for the wedding have been taken care of by people other than myself. I don’t care though. My end result is getting Alena. That’s the only thing that matters.

Tonight will be the last time I see her until she’s walking down the aisle to me. It will be enough. It has to be.

The dinner will be very small—immediate family only in the privacy of the bride’s home. It’s tradition, and one that I’ve thought about breaking a thousand times. Since the ink was laid on the paper, I’ve wanted to go to Alena. But tradition—and a ridiculous amount of self-control—has kept me from her.

I can’t help but allow a little part of me to wonder if she’s happy with the arrangement. Will she like me when she sees me? Will she learn to love me?

“I’m ready when you two are,” my mother says as she slips her hand into the crook of my arm, and we walk out of my office.

Vlad follows closely as we all climb in the limo and ride silently to Alena’s house. The whole time I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest as I try to remain calm. I can do this. I can be in the same room as her, and everything will be fine. I remind myself to be respectful and kind. To show her that I’m the right choice, even if she didn’t make it. That I will be her king, her husband, and the father to our children.

When I made the marriage arrangement I had only seen one picture of her. One picture and my life was turned upside down. Surely being next to her won’t be so difficult.

I glance over at Vlad as the limo comes to a stop. He gives me an evil grin and shakes his head.

I can’t fool him. Or myself.