What does it mean to lose everything just to gain it all? How does that even work? And how many times do you have to break yourself to reach your goal? Most importantly—will that goal still matter by the time you get there? Because every new day of struggle has a way of shifting your priorities... On the day this story began, I didn’t have an answer to a single one of these seemingly unrelated questions...
When you decide your life is perfect, brace yourself—everything’s about to come crashing down. Trust me, I’ve been there.
Even as the years pass, I’ll always remember that bright, sunny morning that turned my life upside down. That morning, I woke up a princess. Though, at first, I didn’t know it myself and stubbornly refused to accept it.
“Astrid Vanessa Ormskolt?” Standing before me was none other than Anthony Lester, heir to the throne of all Velgravia and the most eligible bachelor in the empire. Tall, broad-shouldered, and strikingly handsome, with chestnut hair, deep blue eyes, and features so sharp they could’ve been carved from stone. One of the most attractive men in the realm gave me a blatantly appraising look, as if he were picking out an item at a market and debating whether it was worth the price. I stood there, completely baffled, wondering what I’d done to deserve such a visit first thing in the morning—and right in my own quarters, no less. I couldn’t recall ever getting close enough to the prince to warrant this. Especially since we’d only met yesterday at the Spring Ball, where we danced a few times.
“Yes, that’s me,” I replied simply, with a slight shrug. I probably should’ve tacked on a formal “Your Highness” and dropped into a curtsy, but I’d already bowed once when he entered, and that was plenty for one day! Luckily, where I come from, we don’t bend over backward every second. I’m sure to the capital’s lords and ladies, I’ll always be some rough-around-the-edges country girl, and I’m mostly fine with that. At the very least, I’m ready to head back to my lovely home today—my father’s charming town of Lisbet in my uncle’s distant county.
Yes, my father isn’t even a count, just a viscount, the younger brother of an earl who inherited a single town. My mother was born a marchioness, daughter of one of Velgravia’s most powerful and wealthiest dukes, but she chose love. When her parents disapproved of her match, she renounced them, losing everything. Yet she gained so much more—true happiness as a woman. We lived comfortably, though of course, we couldn’t boast royal extravagance. My grandparents, who probably hadn’t thought of their disobedient daughter in years, never forgot about me, their half-blood granddaughter. They paid for my education at a prestigious boarding school for noble young ladies, giving me the chance to become a refined aristocrat. So, after finishing my studies, I decided to accept an invitation to stay with my relatives, if only to meet them and thank them for the generous gifts they’d sent for every holiday. And now, here I am... standing in palace chambers before a prince, trying to figure out the reason for this bizarre conversation.
“I’m pleased to meet you. I hope you’ve found your chambers to your liking? You’ll be staying here until the wedding, but if there’s anything you need, just say the word... You’ll have maids and personal guards. You can summon the court seamstress; she’s at your service...” Finally done cataloging every feature of my face into his memory, Anthony broke the silence that had hung in the air after my response.
“Excuse me?” was all I could manage. “Until the wedding, you say? Whose?”
For the record, my wedding to my beloved fiancé, Viscount Richard Marlowe from the neighboring county, is set for the fall, and I have no intention of living at court until then. The prince looked at me like I was an idiot, though he didn’t let his surprise seep into his tone, keeping it as composed and calm as ever.
“Astrid, ours, of course. Yesterday at the Spring Ball, the emperor blessed our union. The wedding will take place a month after the Golden Tournament concludes.”
Okay, hold on—can we back up a bit? Why am I completely in the dark about this, and how can anyone arrange a marriage without even asking the bride’s opinion? What the heck is going on here?
I was just about to blurt all of that out when the door to my chambers swung open with a bang. Standing in the doorway was my grandmother, Her Grace, Duchess Ernestine Morgan Ross. Bowing deeply to the heir, she flashed a charming smile across her beautiful face and chirped.
“Your Highness, may I have a word with my granddaughter? I’d be ever so grateful for your understanding. She’s probably still in shock over her good fortune. You’ve honored us so greatly...”
“Of course, my lady,” Anthony replied with a curt nod. He cast one more careful, almost curious glance at me with those piercing blue eyes before striding out of the room with regal poise. I turned to my grandmother, whom I’d only recently met, crossed my arms over my chest, and demanded.
“Surprise me! Explain how a ball that was supposed to be my introduction to the king’s court somehow turned into my engagement...”