My mind won’t stop racing about Helena’s news. Louis, one of the other guards, holds out his arm toward me as I climb out of the Escalade at the steps leading up to my chambers on my assigned south wing of the palace.

“Your Highness, are you certain that you want to retire in your chambers tonight?” Louis asks me in his usual formal tone.

“Yes, I want to sleep in my own bed,” I say.

“Because there’s work underway—” he starts, but I’m not interested in hearing more.

“I’m sleeping here,” I tell him, my tone final.

“Of course.” He steadies me with an arm, waiting for my feet to land on solid ground.

“Thanks,” I tell him absently, vaguely aware of his and the others’ protective presence as he and the other three guards follow at the appropriate distance on the way to my front door. They are well trained, these men. To be present without making their presence felt too strongly. To be our eyes and ears, always on the lookout for potential threats and dangers. To guard us. To risk their lives for us day in and day out with no exception.

I peel my cotton top off my shoulders, exposing my still slick, sweaty skin to the humid night air. I’m still boiling hot in just this little tube top, and knee-length flared skirt that I’m wearing. Louis and one of the newer guards whose name escape me move past me to do their usual detailed sweep of my chambers—well, it’s more like its self-contained home, to be honest. And much of it is currently under renovation by the kingdom’s top home remodeling company. They’ve been working round the clock for months, doing their best to complete it all before my big day today. From what I saw of the floor plans, all that’s left is some work in the two upstairs bathrooms attached to my sleeping quarters and some tile work on the main floor.

Now that I’m eighteen, my quarters are being redesigned and expanded to accommodate my transition into womanhood. The pinks and lilacs are to be replaced with royal reds and golds, as is customary, my single bed exchanged for the large four poster piece of furniture I like to call a monstrosity. But it’s the way it has been for generations before me. Far be it for me to buck the system or challenge the roles thrust upon us by virtue of the royal blood that flows through our veins.

This is the reason Louis wanted to be sure about whether or not I would sleep here for the night. And what he doesn’t know is that I’m making myself scarce at Helena’s quarters just in case I end up being the third wheel in her royally raucous little bombshell of a secret romance.

On my way inside, I miss a step and stumble into my chambers. Helena was right that I’m wasted, I think, giggling at how clumsy I must look to the two remaining guards who rush up behind me, ready to catch my possible fall.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I tell them, and they nod, returning to their posts.

Straightening up, I slide off my diamond encrusted Louboutins sling backs, a birthday gift from my mother, continuing barefoot. After their inspection, Louis and the new guard leave for the night. They’ll be at their posts outside, as per the usual, leaving me with the privacy I’m used to.

Perhaps there’s a silver lining to Helena’s hot little secret. Well, not little. Not by any stretch of the imagination. It’s a whopper. But maybe her significant deviation from the plan set out for her as future Queen of Gideanor will soften our parents' expectations of me, if and when the time comes for me to find a suitor.

Personally, I hope it’s not anytime soon.

I’ve only turned eighteen.

And I’m a virgin.

I’d like to see and experience more of the richness of life, frolic around the world like my sister did for an entire year, and discover who I really am.

But if plans can deviate for Helena, then I have a good shot at carving out a slice of life that suits who I am.

One day, anyway.

I jump a little when a loud thud catches my attention, pulling me from my idealistic thoughts as I reach the second floor of my chambers.

“Hello?” I call out timidly down the vast, dark hallway, puzzled by what could’ve made that noise at this hour. No one should be here. And the guards just checked the place thoroughly.

The fine short hairs that rest on the back of my neck stand on edge as I peer toward the direction of the sound. The hallway is unexpectedly dark, probably because one of the contractors may have turned the lights off before leaving for the evening. It’s happened before, but I’ve never heard any noises this late in the evening. Not unless advance notice is provided to Tasha, my personal assistant.

“Is anyone there?” I repeat just as the thud-like noise sounds out again.

This time, it’s louder and doesn’t stop. It thunders out, so loudly that it vibrates through my body. I place my shoes and clutch purse on the floor and decide to check for myself. I pad barefoot around the corner and into my bedroom, following the sound. Holding onto the wall for balance, I’m again reminded that Helena was not wrong about how much I had to drink.

The pleasing smell of freshly cut cedar and mahogany fills the air, and I inhale deeply, closing my eyes to take it in, not thinking.

As I slowly open my eyes again—all the air gets sucked out of my lungs.

I freeze in my spot at the sight of the chest of a big, broad, utterly chiseled man standing directly in front of me, filling my view with more muscles and masculine energy than I’ve ever witnessed before. I look up past the thick, bare corded pecs beaded with sweat, I notice the crown-sealed employee pass pinned onto the overall straps going over his immense shoulders. So, this is why my guards didn’t alert me to him. He’s one of our contractors. I look further skyward, past a beautifully squared and lightly stubbled jawline, gorgeous cheekbones, a prominent nose, and lock onto the more captivating sky-blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my natural born life.

The man is like no one I’ve ever laid eyes on. Like the cliché handyman that walks in to meet the desperately lonely, scantily-clad housewife on those porn flicks my sister and I watch in secret for kicks and giggles.

Except I’m not laughing now.

This big, deliciously dirty alpha-looking specimen of a man does not elicit laughter from me.

Oh no.

Not laughter at all.

More like lust.

Lust, and need, and all the vivid fantasies I’ve ever evoked in my less than innocent mind.

Because beneath this layer of pristine, virgin womanhood, is a very dirty girl, waiting for the right dominant alpha male royal to free her from her cage.

Or put her in a cage.

And maybe not a royal either, I suppose.

At the moment, my semi-inebriated, fully aroused mind can’t decide which one I want more.

But as long as it’s this man doing the freeing or capturing, I’m all in.