Being a princess wasn't nearly as exciting as my father made it sound. Dresses, social outings, and a palace were hardly a substitute for private lessons, constant surveillance, and strict rules.

Of course, my favorite rule was, "Do as I say." Why, I always prodded? "Because I said so," my father would say.

Most of his requests were reasonable, so I would complete them without complaint. Study Isilican history with Agnes, practice French, go with your sister to tour the districts, he would say before returning to his meeting with the court.

Apparently, I was too good at listening to him because at the age of thirteen, he started requiring me to join Vivienne and him in greeting aristocrats from other countries. And for some reason, there was always a teenage boy present, who ogled at my breasts or lips for the majority of the interaction.

Every now and then, there was a polite prince in gaudy robes, but they were never any fun. They actually wanted to court me, which wasn't the point. At least, not to me.

As the spare, I wasn't required to marry. Vivienne would marry a man from one of the seven districts when she came of age, but I had no such requirement. I could marry whoever I wanted as long as my father allowed it. And despite his irritation with me at times, he would never force me to marry a man I didn't love

However, being a king, he couldn't deny the political benefits of his youngest daughter marrying into another country. So like a hawker, he waved every boy with a title in front of my face, hoping I would remotely like one of them.

There was one I liked—his name was Larry. He was some nobleman's son from an inconsequential country. Out of nowhere, he melted into the middle of the throne room floor like a sack of potatoes, sobbing with fat tears rolling down his swollen cheeks. And I thought we were having a decent conversation too. That day my least favorite rule was born.

"For the love of all that's royal, don't make the boys cry, Elara."

The entertainment was the best part! I smiled and spoke to Larry exactly as I was instructed to. It wasn't my fault that Larry didn't like what I had to say. And now, I had to restrict my speech and be sensitive to strangers' emotions. Strangers, who ogled at me like I'm a dish of souffle.

Father loved to take the fun out of courting, the same way he loved to assign Vivienne responsibilities until she was buried to her neck in textbooks on every political strategy in existence. It didn't matter if it was fair, it was how it was.

So when my maids roused me at the crack of dawn with an armful of colorful gowns on-hand, I rolled my eyes and picked the most seductive shade: dark red.

"Your father requested—" Mary started.

"—My presence in the throne room," I said, mimicking my father's low and growly voice.

Mary sighed, while Jade and Tia smiled and rolled their eyes.

"These State visits may not be fun, but they're important," Mary said as she brushed her fingers behind my neck, pulling my hair away from my back.

I stepped into the center of the gown on the floor, and Tia and Jade slipped the silk over my shoulders. Their touch was cool and delicate as they adjusted the gown on my back.

"They're important for Vivienne and my father. Not me," I said.

"That isn't true. Your father won't be here forever, Elara, and Vivienne will need you. Unless you plan on having her attend these meetings by herself?" Mary raised an eyebrow.

A quiet purr vibrated up my spine as Jade zipped the gown.

I rolled my eyes. "Vivienne will be married and have children long before she becomes queen."

"And if she doesn't?" Mary said.

"Then, I will attend the meetings." I glanced at Tia out of the corner of my eye. Her skin was golden like wet sand. Dark curls framed her soft features as she smiled at me.

I cleared my throat. "Who am I meeting today, anyway?"

"Theodore of Bannerfell. He's the king's nephew-in-law," Mary said.

I arched an eyebrow. "No title?"

"Did I say a title?" Mary quipped.

I twisted my head to glare at her, while Jade laughed, rubbing her palms against my shoulders.

"I'm sure you're devastated because you love titled boys so much," Jade said.

Scoffing, I stepped forward. Jade's hands fell away to her sides as the layers of red silk flowed around me. I spun once, rubbing my hands down the slick fabric until the skirt was smooth.

"Beautiful as your mother," Tia said softly as she gazed at me with affection.

I smiled at her, bowing my head. Most servants forgot the time when my mother existed. Tia made sure I never did.

"I have no opposition to titled boys," I finally said, facing Jade. "Or untitled boys." I faced Mary.

"So you'll meet Theodore without complaint, I'm sure," Jade said with a hidden smile.

I grinned. "Of course."

***

Vivienne and I stood like marble statues on either sister of my father's throne. Vivienne to the right, and I, to the left. It felt like a theater, the three of us staring at the throne room's double doors, waiting for the Bannerfellians to appear. We had an audience. Vivienne and my father's guards lined either side of the doors, tracking us like stage lights, while my only guard stood in the far corner, watching me.

Vixen was alright. She respected my boundaries, unlike Vivienne's guards, who calculated her every movement. Another perk of being the spare, I supposed.

The palace bell echoed through the walls, and all of the guards except for mine angled their bodies towards the door.

"Be nice. I expect your best manners" my father said under his breath.

Vivienne didn't so much as flinch—she knew as well as I who he was talking to. Her deep violet gown remained flawless as she gazed at the doors.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm always on my best manners," I said.

"Sure you are," Vivienne said, unmoving.

I twisted my head to look at her. Her hair was as black as a raven and as straight as a beam. The edges of her lips were just-red from her side profile.

"You try dealing with—" I started.

My father growled. "Enough."

Clenching my fists until my knuckles turned white, I returned my attention to the now open doors, where a very tall and a slightly above average height figure were walking through.

The overhead lights in the crystal chandelier cast dark shadows over their faces, blurring away any distinguishable feature. From a distance, only two things were clear: they were light and blonde.

"Fiona, Theodore, welcome to Isilica," my father called from his throne. His hands rested uncomfortably on the armrests. Thrones weren't meant to be comfortable.

As Fiona and Theodore approached the dais, where my family was stationed, the shadows faded. Fiona was stout with an ordinary face and rounded cheeks, while Theodore was tall and slender with a soft jawline and a defined nose. Her eyes were a striking shade of blue, while his were gold like honey.

Fiona curtsied to my father, Vivienne, and at last, me. I appreciated the gesture. Members of high status weren't required to bow to me, even though the vast majority did out of respect for my father or my late mother.

Theodore matched her movements, pausing to make eye contact with each of us before bowing his head. Staring into his eyes, they were no longer a shade of gold, they were warm like chocolate milk. His eyes lingered on mine for a half a second longer than they did on Vivi and my father's, before he fell into a deep curtsy.

I didn't need to see my father's face to know he was pleased.

"Thank you for having us, Your Majesty," Fiona said, smiling at my father.

Her tone was casual, more comparable to conversing with a friend than the king of an established nation. I observed her with curiosity. My father only mentioned Bannerfell in passing: they were one of many allies Isilica obtained over the last century.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said.

I quirked an eyebrow, almost breaking my composure to glance at my father. He sounded happy. And I had only ever heard of Fiona of Bannerfell never, excluding this morning.

Fiona smiled softly at my father, before shifting her gaze to Vivienne and I.

"These are my daughters, Vivienne and Elara," my father said, swinging his arms out in a powerful gesture.

"It is a pleasure," Vivienne said in her well-trained, kind and collected voice.

I bit my lip to hide my smirk. Theodore's eyes flickered toward me, focusing on my lips. The left corner of his mouth twitched before he returned his eyes to Vivienne. My eyes narrowed as I controlled my expression.

He looked amused. And the longer I stared at him, I realized that no one else had noticed.

My father cleared his throat in my direction, and instinctively, I turned my head in his direction. He looked at me with a stern expression.

Talk and smile.

A forced smile, which definitely shifted to somewhere between a smirk and grimace contorted on my lips as I glanced in Theodore's direction, then focused solely on Fiona.

"It's a pleasure," I said quickly, unable to hide my amusement.

Fiona bursted into laughter, and I felt Vivienne and my father stiffen. I internally smacked myself over the head. Today was not the day for another Larry lecture.

"You have your father's spirit." Fiona chuckled.

Spirit? My father? My brain struggled to combine the two into the same person.

"I have what?" I said before my brain-to-mouth filter could kick in.

Fiona's eyes lingered on me with a curious expression.

"Your father was not so different from you at your age," she said, winking at my father.

Oh, so they were definitely friends. I paused in confusion. Since when did he have friends?

I turned my head towards my dad in exasperation. He didn't shift. On his right, Vivienne still stood ramrod straight, shifting her eyes between Fiona and Theodore.

"What the heck is going on?" I finally said. "Who is Fiona?"

"Elara, we have guests—" my father began, looking sternly in my direction.

I gestured my hands between my father and Fiona.

"Clearly you two know each other, and this isn't some formal State visit. She's known you since you were fifteen, maybe even longer," I said.

"Elara—"

"You're the King, and she's talking to you like you're a commoner." As soon as the words left my mouth, my eyes widened and I looked at Fiona. "Not that there's anything wrong with that," I quickly added.

A brief moment of silence passed, before Theodore started chuckling. I stared at him with furrowed eyebrows as my father released a loud sigh.

"We were playmates," my father finally conceded.

Even Vivian twisted her head.

"Playmates?" Vivienne perplexed.

We were never given playmates.

"Yes," my father said in a tired voice. "When your Uncle and I visited Bannerfell as children, your grandparents had us play with the children of rank."

"Fiona?" I glanced at him.

"Yes," Fiona answered with a smile. "And we've been inseparable ever since."

"Please," my father groaned, rubbing his forehand with his hands.

Fiona winked at me, before placing her hand on her nephew's back.

"We should be heading back to our rooms now, but perhaps you'll join us later this afternoon?" Fiona said, focusing her attention on me.

I felt Theodore's gaze burning into me, waiting.

"Perhaps," I finally said, nodding to Fiona. I refused to give Theodore the satisfaction of acknowledgement.

"Very well," she said, bowing to my father one last time before exiting the double doors. Theodoe didn't look back as he followed her.

Minutes later, the guards closed the doors and all eyes were on me. Sighing, I stepped off the dais and walked in front of my father with a downcast expression.

"Can you take this seriously for once?" he said, sounding more exhausted than angry.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean for . . . that."

"People don't remember a king's intentions, they remember his choices."

"I know." I sighed, slowly lifting my eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry."

His eyes softened. "I know you have good intentions, but you can't keep doing this, Elara. You have to try."

"I am trying," I said, staring into his eyes with a pleading expression.

"Try harder."

A few moments later, my father filed out of the throne room with all of his guards except for Titus, the head of security. Vixen took his place at my father's side, not an atypical arrangement.

When Vivieens stepped off the dais, I grabbed her arm.

Vivienne looked at me. "What is it?"

"Archery," I said.

"Now?"

I rolled my eyes.

"No, tomorrow," I said sarcastically.

Vivienne frowned, glancing at her guards. Ryker was staring at us.

"I have to study," she said, gently removing my hand from her arm.

"Come on, Vivi. It's only for an hour or two, and Titus will be there." Without our mother, my father often relied on Titus to care for Vivienne and I when we were children. Being practically bulletproof helped with toddlers, I've heard.

"I can't."

"You can. I'll tutor you while I shoot," I said.

Vivienne grinned with amusement.

"You don't even know what I'm covering with Agnes," she said.

"Sure I do." I smiled. "I don't have to go to queen-to-be training, remember? I eat and breathe the textbooks you despise. So learn about politics, shoot some arrows, and have a little bit of fun for once," I said, gesturing to Titus, who was dramatically shaking his head.

"Fine," Vivi groaned, waving off her guards.

"I knew you'd cave."

Interlocking our arms, I started walking us towards Titus.

"No, you knew you would get your way," she said.

"If I got my way, there would be no Theodore of Bannerfell," I muttered.

Vivienne chuckled. "For once, you're not wrong."