Chapter one

As I step out of the carriage, the first thing I notice is the greenery. Lush trees and vibrant flowers adorn the entrance to the palace. "Mommy," Kitaja whispers, "so green..." I smile at her and turn to the row of servants and the older gentleman, whom I assume is the butler. I deepen into a curtsy. "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Genevieve Nathalie de Pastara." When I lift my head, I see that all the servants, including the older man, bow as well. How rude of them to bow after me. Before he can speak, I turn slightly to the four people standing behind me. "I have come with my two knights and my daughter's nanny. They don't speak Gritz yet, so please direct any questions regarding them to me. We can discuss details later; first, please show us to our quarters. We are quite tired from the long journey."

"Of course, Princess Genevieve. Welcome to Gritina. I am Hubert, the butler of this estate. Let me lead the way." Hubert's poker face is hard to read. His gray tie matches his hair and beard perfectly. As we walk past the line of maids, knights, and cooks, I notice a young man. His eyes sparkle with life. With his blonde curls against his darker complexion, he is hard to overlook. I should inquire about him later.

"When can I meet my fiancé?" I ask Hubert frankly. "His Highness is eager to meet you. As soon as you are ready, I will take you to his study." "I will be ready in two hours, after a bath and changing into fresh clothes," I reply, looking at him imploringly. "And I will go without my company." "Yes, Princess Genevieve. I will inform His Highness." Hubert still shows no emotion, which makes me uneasy. I turn to Preza, Tincar, and Mucala to translate the conversation. When I turn back, I catch a slight twitch in Hubert's face. Finally.

"Please prepare two extra bedrooms next to mine—one for my daughter and her nanny, and one for my knights. And don't worry, Preza and Tincar are married, so they can share a room." He slows his step slightly before turning to me again. "Of course, Princess Genevieve." His response is slow, and his dislike for Posha—or at least its people—is becoming obvious. Should I confront him? No, it is too early. I have a feeling this sentiment is widespread throughout the palace, based on the welcome we just received.

"This is your room, Princess Genevieve." Hubert's voice brings me back to reality. "Wonderful. Thank you, Hubert." "A bath is being prepared as we speak; the rooms next door will be ready in less than an hour." "That's fine. We will wait together in my room." I give him a polite smile and turn to the room. It reminds me of my childhood bedroom—full of floral patterns and frills. The moment the door closes, Kitaja runs to the bed. "You must be tired, my sunshine," I say, sitting next to her. "I want to sleep. Is this my room?" "No, this is my room. The maids are preparing your bedroom now. You can sleep in my bed after a quick wash. The bath is almost ready. Are you hungry?" "No, I want to sleep." She looks so grumpy; it is cute. Mucala joins us on the bed. "Should I braid your hair, Princess Kitaja?" "...Fine," she finally replies. Kitaja loves it when people take care of her hair, especially Mucala.

While they rummage through the drawers in the dressing area, I move to Preza and Tincar, who are chatting on the couch. Preza looks furious. I place my hand over hers. "What a jackass," she exclaims. "How dare he look down on us?" "You noticed, huh?" "How could I not? That old geezer didn't even spare a glance at us—not even at Princess Kitaja." "Yes, I'll have to deal with him soon. First, I need to find someone here who doesn't look down on Posha. Did you see the tan, blonde boy outside? I think he might be our best bet." "I agree," Tincar chimes in. "He looks like he might be of Posha descent, or perhaps Trandil. But since he works in the palace, he's most likely Posha." "It might be unsafe for you to roam the palace for now. Let me speak to the king first and introduce you formally. I will ensure we have a ball in the coming days." "Ugh, fine," Preza mumbles. Preza hates formal events; she grew up in a military family, where the battlefield was her playground. That's also where she met her husband, Tincar, a scholar forced into soldiering when the last war began. They are my most loyal knights and probably my only friends, along with Mucala, who also came from the royal army. She was an assassin—or still is, I should say—and the only half-sibling of my deceased husband who cares for me and Kitaja. Perhaps because she wasn't accepted by the family like I was.

"Princess Genevieve, the bath is ready. May we come in?" A young maid's voice cuts through my thoughts. I sit up straight and tell her to enter. As I signal for Kitaja to follow me to the large basin in the next room, I ask the maid to prepare two additional baths for the others in their rooms. She looks flustered but hurries to get them ready as soon as I dismiss her and close the door.

Once I step into the bath, a wave of fatigue washes over me. The two-month journey from Posha has been exhausting. I force myself to stand up again and help Kitaja in as well. After a thorough scrub for both of us, we get out and I put Kitaja in her nightgown. "Bring her to my bedroom, please. She will sleep in my bed tonight," I instruct one of the maids. "Have a good rest, my sunshine," I add with a quick kiss on her forehead. "Good night, Mommy," Kitaja replies, her eyes half-closed. As they leave, I tell one of the other two maids to fetch my light blue gown. While they are gone, I start putting on my undergarments. The maids look a bit shocked as they enter again with the dress. "Let us help you, please!" the brunette exclaims, hurrying to my side to tie my corset. "What are your names?" I ask. "My name is Sisi, this is Daisy," the brunette says, pointing at the redhead, "and this is Mindy," she gestures to the light brown-haired girl. They all bow as they introduce themselves. "We will be your personal maids. Please let us know if you need anything." "Pleasure to meet you, Sisi, Daisy, and Mindy. You don't need to introduce me by name; you already know it. But if you're curious about anything else, feel free to ask. I won't be upset." I try to appear warm. They seem to relax slightly but still hesitate to ask anything. "Don't feel pressured. Let us put this gown on. I don't want to keep the king waiting." I gesture toward the blue dress.

After donning the gown, I allow Mindy to style my hair while Daisy and Sisi fuss over my makeup. "You look stunning, Princess Genevieve," Sisi says, and the others echo her compliments. "Thank you. Could you call for Hubert?" Daisy quickly leaves the room and returns a moment later with Hubert. "Let us go to His Majesty," I say with a polite smile. He returns it, his demeanor much less tense now that I am alone. "How long have you been working here?" I ask as we walk down the hallway. "It will be 46 years this year." "That's very impressive. You must know the royal family well." "Of course; I witnessed both the king's and the late king's births," he replies proudly, a hint of suspicion in his tone. "Great, then I know whom to turn to for recommendations." I look at him, gauging his reaction. Back to the poker face.

"We have arrived," he says after a few minutes and knocks on the door. "Enter," a boy's voice calls from inside. At a desk sits a teenager in a huge velvet red chair. He looks about 14 or 15 at most. On his right is a wall lined with books, and on the left is a sitting area. Two redheaded women sit stiffly there, tea and desserts in front of them on the table. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I am Genevieve Nathalie de Pastara." After a deep curtsy, I look up to see him staring at me. His silence makes me nervous. One of the women clears her throat, and the boy blinks. "I am King Augustus Paulus Pareira. The pleasure is all mine. I have been waiting a long time to meet my beautiful fiancée." Nobody told me my fiancé is a child. I expected to marry an old man or some disfigured slob. Who decided this boy would marry a widow? I quickly fix my puzzled expression and smile back at him. "I apologize for the wait, Your Highness. The journey from Posha is long and troublesome, especially with my young daughter, who is not used to traveling." "No need to apologize, my queen. Speaking of which, I would like us to get married in the coming week. The sooner, the better." This boy is very confusing. "I will need two days to rest. After that, I will be ready." Augustus looks pleased by my answer. "In three days, then. Mother, sister, please show her around the palace in the meantime." He turns to the two ladies on the left.

"Of course, Augustus," the slightly older one says, looking at me with an expression I can't decipher. "I am Augustus' mother, Lucinda. This is my daughter, Merida. You must be tired, so I will let you rest for now. We will see each other in a short while for dinner. Please bring your daughter along as well." Lucinda finishes her sentence with a forced smile, and Merida mirrors her expression. They don't look very happy to see me. Augustus, however, appears gleeful as he stares at me. "Dinner is in two hours. I will fetch you myself," he says quickly. Both ladies and Hubert look shocked by that. My expression probably mirrors theirs. "Augustus, think of yo—" Merida begins but stops when he looks at her. "What an honor, Your Highness. I will see you soon." I bow deeply again to Augustus, Lucinda, and Merida. Lucinda and Merida visibly relax a bit in response.

Hubert and I walk back to my room in silence until I start to giggle. Hubert raises an eyebrow and asks, "Is something amusing, Princess Genevieve?" "That was a very strange interaction. Don't you find it amusing?" He gives a small smile, and I can see him fighting the urge to agree. "You don't need to answer if it goes against your professionalism. I see it on your face," I tease, smiling as I walk a bit faster to avoid making him respond.

"Thank you for accompanying me to see the king. Until dinnertime." I glance back at him as we reach my room. "No problem at all; it is my job, after all," he replies, a hint of mischief in his tone. I laugh at that and enter my room.