Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
All my life, I had been forbidden to wed—my fate had been sealed the moment my mother bore a son. By the laws of our tiny kingdom, there could be no direct descendants of a sibling to the Royal Heir. This was to keep the peace, as my father had often explained to me when I asked for the thousandth time why my younger brother was free to wed if he chose, while I was relegated to spinsterhood.
“We cannot have any challenges to the throne, child,” he said to me when I complained. “Your brother is the Royal Heir. Which means any male children of yours would be a rival to him. Especially if you had a son. That would be bad—very bad.”
I wanted to ask why my brother was the Heir and not me—I had, after all, been born eight years before him and was notably better at my studies. But I already knew the answer to that.
My brother, Prince Roderick, was a male and in our small kingdom of L’Crist, males ruled everything. No one would even consider the idea that a female might make a good ruler—or that she would be equal to the task of ruling in the first place. Though if you asked me, I would have done a much better job than my younger brother currently was. For one thing, I wouldn’t have gambled the tribute money away.
“What are we going to do?” I demanded, opening my eyes to look at him. “The Enforcer from Clan Cruel is on his way here right now!”
“Put him off somehow!” Roderick exclaimed. “I just need some time—one more night at the tables and I can win it all back—I know I can!”
“You’re fooling yourself,” I said curtly. “You have gambling fever—you’ll never win the tribute back. We must find some other way to pay. What about the crown jewels? We can offer them as collateral until we can pay the actual tribute.”
I touched the tiara I wore on my head. It wasn’t very big, but the diamonds were real. And we still had the big ruby in my father’s State Crown. Roderick had only worn it once, during his coronation. I knew it was still in the Royal Treasury because I had seen it there just that morning.
But when I looked at my brother, there was an expression that was half defiance/half shame on his face.
“What?” I demanded. “Why are you looking like that?”
“Your tiara…the crown…the other jewels…” He cleared his throat. “I had them replicated.”
“You what?” I stared at him, open-mouthed with horror. The Crown Jewels were sacred to our family—I never would have suggested using them as collateral if I hadn’t believed we could eventually pay off our debts and get them back.
“I needed more money—more credits!” Roderick snarled defensively. “I was trying to win back the tribute money. So I had the jewels replicated and sold the real ones. I figured no one would ever know—the tiara fooled you, didn’t it?”
I tore the dainty diamond and white gold tiara off my head, (mussing my long, honey-brown hair in the process, though I didn’t care about that,) and stared at it.
I had to admit the replication was excellent. Whoever Roderick had hired, they had done quite a good job. Probably the diamonds were nothing but clear zircons and the white gold was trash metal dipped in silver, but it wasn’t immediately apparent.
“It looks real,” I admitted, twisting the tiara every which way so that the light from the floating chandelier hovering overhead shone on it from every angle.
“Maybe we could offer the Crown Jewels after all,” Roderick said hopefully. “If you can’t tell the difference, I’m sure the Enforcer from Clan Cruel won’t be able to either.”
“I don’t know…” I didn’t like the idea of trying to fool the Enforcer. He was a big, silent male with curling golden horns and piercing gold eyes to match. He never said much to me but those golden eyes followed me whenever we were in the same room together and I felt somehow that I ought to know him as more than just a passing acquaintance.
That made no sense, of course. The Enforcer—whose name was Slade—came to the palace only twice a year. He never raised his voice or asked any questions—he just accepted the tribute and left. But I always felt a sense of relief when I saw the back of him—his broad shoulders under their expensive tailored suit jacket retreating through the palace’s main entrance.
In all the years he had been visiting us, I had only had one personal interaction with him and it had been both strange and embarrassing…
It happened not long after my maid had been whispering in my ear about how all the Brutal Clansmen had shafts that would “split a girl in two” with huge knots at the base. Slade had come to collect the tribute as always and he was standing across the throne room from me, speaking to my father.