by Frankie Love
Crown Me, Prince
Frankie Love
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Copyright © 2017 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Crown Me, Prince
Courted By The Mountain Prince
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
23. Epilogue
Charmed By The Mountain Prince
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
23. Epilogue
Crowned By the Mountain Prince
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Claimed By The Mountain Man
Prologue
Chapter 1
Also by Frankie Love
About the Author
Crown Me, Prince
Three Royal Couples …
Three Royal Virgins…
Three Royal Wedding Nights …
This three book bundle includes three princes, all headed to the altar.
Ready to kneel before their thrones?
I bet they’ll let you polish their crowns.
This collection has plenty of filthy-sweet steam with happily-ever-afters for everyone!
#heirstomake #crownjewels #nicesceptor
xo, frankie
Chapter 1
People make a lot of assumptions about what it means to be a princess. I attribute that to Disney movies and fairy tales. The general population thinks being a princess equals glass slippers, servants, and Prince Charming. The reality—well, at least my reality—is pretty bleak in comparison.
My father, the King of Elexia, doesn’t exactly exude a strong leadership style. He’s much too generous to be the frugal king our island country needs right now, more than ever.
As a country, we’re broke—bankrupt.
Royally screwed.
Sure, most of the world’s population has done away with monarchies, but there are a few pocket countries that still govern by the crown. However, most of those governments are more fiscally sound than Elexia.
Which sucks.
On a lot of levels.
Mostly because my father thinks he has the perfect plan to save our royal asses.
“Violet, Iris, Dahlia, listen closely, my darlings.” Father directs my sisters and me as he sits upon his weathered throne, which has seen better days.
“One sec, Father,” Iris, says, closing her Snapchat app. I’m standing next to her in the throne room and can see that she’s just posted another selfie, which is apparently the only thing you use a phone for.
As the middle sister, she’s vying for attention anyway she can, I suppose. She hates living in Elexia—it’s too small and provincial for her tastes, and I suppose social media is the way she can avoid our reality. She slips her old iPhone into her pocket, and focuses on our father.
A smile spreads across his face, and he claps his hands with excitement. He must have big news; I haven’t seen him this happy in years. Well, not since before Mother died.
“What is it, dear Father?” Dahlia, my youngest sister asks. Her golden ringlets are natural, as is her quiet demeanor.
“It has been decided that you three, my lovely daughters, will save our country from disgrace.”
My heart pounds—this is what I’ve been hoping for. A chance to help my beloved country, a country whose shoreline is crested with foamy white waves and salty sun-kissed skies.
Our country, with waterfalls and relaxing vistas, where our hard-working farmers escape after a long workweek. Our country where my mother was born, where she was buried. Our country that is in my bones and close to my heart.
But even with all of that beauty, our castle is crumbling, our people are hungry, and I want to do something about it. I want to fight for our people and make a plan. I know my dad’s the King, but I think I’d make a good Queen someday.
I know that isn’t possible—my cousin Gibraltar will be inheriting the crown—but if I can help, I will. It’s all I want.
“How, father?” Dahlia asks. “How can I help? I’m just a princess.”
I scowl at her words. Just a princess is exactly what has kept us from being useful for our entire lives. I’m twenty-three, Iris is twenty-two, and Dahlia is twenty-one.
Stair-stepped princesses, now grown, and in all this time we’ve rarely been permitted to do anything substantial, even though there is much work to be done.
Work I have been doing. And even if my efforts are small, I believe they’re valiant: running the food bank, coordinating clothing drives, and volunteering at the homeless shelter. Necessary work that makes a difference.
“Not true,” I tell her. “There’s so much we can do. What’s the plan, Father, to help save Elexia?”
“Violet,” he addresses me. “As my eldest daughter, it affects you first.”
My eyes narrow, and I listen intently. I don’t want to miss a single detail about the plan. I will execute it flawlessly. For Elexia, I’ll do anything.
“You will be married. And, in exchange, Elexia will be granted a dowry.”
Unable to register his statement, I blink, my long lashes brushing my cheek, and I tuck strands of my unruly black hair behind my ears. I look nothing like my fair-haired sisters or father.
I am the mirror image of my mother, God bless her soul. And I know, I am certain, if she were here this would be out of the question.
An arranged marriage to save the crown?
“What on Earth are you talking about?” I ask.
Well, to be honest, it was more of a shriek.
“You should be pleased. I’ve spent months—nay, years—working toward this alliance. And, to be frank, it’s a much better match than I ever dreamed for you.”
“This is not happening. You can’t just marry me off, Father. I’d rather stay here than be forced to marry some random man.”
Father shakes his head. “Not any old bloke for my eldest girl. A prince.”
My sisters squeal beside me. Apparently this news pleases them. Of course it does. They must think me getting married is a riot.
Me, the sister who has refused to be courted by any eligible man in the country. Marriage has not been my priority. Saving Elexia from disgrace is my utmost concern.
“And Iris and Dahlia, how will they help the kingdom?” I ask, saving a sliver of hope that perhaps I can trade my sisters. One of them can marry this prince, and let me stay home, where I want to be.
“They will be married, too. But the eldest daughter is to be married first; we honor tradition here in Elexia. You will marry your husband, and then they will marry theirs.”
“A husband?” I ask, feeling faint. Pressing my hand to my heart, I feel my knees buckle, my skirt rumpling beneath me as I sink to the floor.
“Yes. Your husband, as of next week— Hunter Montagne, the Mountain Prince of Cressia—is waiting for your arrival, Violet.”
I cover my face with my hands as Iris starts freaking out above me.
“Violet is marrying Prince Hunter?” Iris grabs my hand. “Do you know how hot that man is? And rich? Oh my gosh. Violet, you are so lucky.”
“You are all fortunate, in different ways,” my father says. He begins explaining who my sisters are to marry—Prince Garrick and Prince Lukas—but I tune him out.
Because I’m sick to my stomach. I know exactly who Prince Hunter is; everyone does. He’s a completely arrogant prick, and that isn’t just what the tabloids say.
Everyone who has a family crest knows that Hunter is the epitome of a royal pain in the ass.
And now he’s going to be my husband.
Chapter 2
So here’s the deal: My father thinks I need a wife, but I think he probably needs to get laid. Loosen the fuck up.
He’s been single most of my life, and I don’t think he’s ever brought a woman back to the castle, if you know what I mean. Not to get all weird and talk about my father’s love life—because, hell, mine has always been a lot more interesting—but damn. Right now he’s laying down the literal law, and screwing with my life.
I pour myself another tumbler of whisky as I take in the news. I need more liquor to try and wrap my head around this.
“You’re the sole Prince of Cressia. The law dictates you must marry by your twenty-fifth birthday. Which is next week.”
“No one has abided by that law in a hundred years. No way in hell are you in enforcing it on me now.”
I run my hand over my well-trimmed beard, hating the way he’s ordering me around like I’m some schoolboy. This is why I never come to the castle. When I stay at my cabin in the woods, I can pretend my life will always be mine—instead of being reminded that at some point I’ll become a puppet on a throne like my father.
Apparently my father thinks that puppet show is going to start pretty damn soon.
“You’re wrong, Hunter. The law hasn’t been enforced for all this time because we haven’t had to deal with a prince like you in a century.”
“A prince like me?” I scowl, pacing the library.
My father, King Montagne, sits in a large leather chair before a blazing fire. His beloved tax code manuals—the ones he constantly tries to push on me—surround him, as does a book titled Royal Law, which is where I’m assuming he dug up this gem of a rule he thinks he can enforce on me.
“Yes, like you,” he says. “A prince who runs off to the mountains every chance he gets, plays in the woods like a child.”
“Plays in the woods? You do know I’ve memorized every square inch of this country? That when I’m in the mountains ‘playing’ I’m actually cataloguing the wild herds of Cressia?”
My father snorts. “Is that what they call sleeping with every woman you come across? Cataloguing wild game?”
“Don’t believe everything you read, Father.”
He stands, his thick fur robes cloaked around his shoulders, a golden crown perched upon his head. “If I believed everything I read, son, I’d be sending you to prison, not enforcing a marriage. I know about the parties you throw at the East Mountain Cabin, about the illegal visitors who join you and your friends, who supply … party favors, if you will.
“And I’m not having any more of it. Our country is prosperous because we are wise and grounded. Our history runs as rich as the soil on which our mountains stand. And you, Hunter, must rise to the occasion.”
“What occasion are we talking about, exactly?” I jut my chin toward the door. “Because I have places to be.”
“Yes,” my father says. “You do. You have to prepare to meet your wife.”
I choke on his statement. “What?” He can’t be serious. I genuinely thought this was some ploy to threaten me to walk the straight and narrow. “You’re going to throw a woman at me and expect me to marry her?”
“Not any woman—a princess. One whose family didn’t turn up their noses at the idea of their daughter marrying a fool like you.”
My eyes narrow. He and I both know I’m more eligible than any prince in the world. My face graces tabloids for my off-the-grid antics—because honestly no matter how rural I take a party, paparazzi always follow.
“Don’t look at me like that, Hunter. You may have your way with women, but there’s only one king I could find who would let his daughter marry the likes of you. And you wouldn’t believe what sort of dowry I agreed to pay her father to make this marriage happen. I think his entire island country will be out of bankruptcy thanks to this alliance.”
“Why are you so desperate to have me marry?”
“Hunter, our family name rests on our honor. You seem to have forgotten decorum at the door, but our people will turn on us if we don’t give them a crown they can respect. And if something happens to me, my greatest fear is that you’ll no longer have a monarchy to rule.
“As of now, the people have no faith in you. The rumors have been flying for months that you plan on disinheriting the throne. Do you have any idea what that does to public opinion of the crown?”
“And a bride will restore their lost confidence?”
“It will. Polls show that a royal wedding can redeem years of indiscretion.”
I shake my head. Is he fucking kidding me with this? A wife? Me?
“Who is this woman you’ve bought off to marry me?”
“Princess Violet of Elexia.”
I raise my eyes in surprise. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Princess Violet is known among royalty for being a straight-laced rule follower. Though her younger sister Iris is constantly posting things on social media, I haven’t heard mention of Violet in ages.
For all I know she could be a hideous beast. Maybe that’s why she’s kept herself far from selfie sticks.
“She’s the eldest daughter at twenty-three, her father has no male heirs to the throne, and she is the exact opposite of you.”
“What does she look like? I don’t think they’ve attended a royal gala in years; is that correct?”
My father frowns. “That’s true. Their financial crisis has kept them in ruin—but we’ll turn it all around. You’ll marry the girl and everyone wins.”
“Just like that?” I cock an eyebrow, shaking my head. Though, truth be told, the idea of having a woman at the ready isn’t the worst idea ever, as long as she can handle my royal cock. “And when will I meet this princess?”
My father’s eyes light up, as if he’s getting some thrill from my captivity. I’m sure he is. I’ve spent my life doing whatever the hell I please, whenever I want.
I may be a prince, but I’m also a man who can’t be tamed.
“Now,” my father says. “You’ll meet your bride now.”
“Now?” I look around the library in confusion.
“Not here, of course. She is arriving any moment and will be meeting you in the sitting room. The staff have been busy preparing for her arrival all mont
h. But I knew if you had any time to think this over, you’d weasel your way out of it. Her father told her of the marriage a few days ago.”
“And you’re telling me I can’t run off?”
“Oh, you can, Hunter. But there’s already been a world-wide press release announcing your engagement.”
“I haven’t seen anything,” I tell him.
“That’s because I had it delivered while we’ve been talking.” Smiling smugly, like he has this all worked out, my father pulls out his phone and shows me the just-posted press release.
PRINCE HUNTER’S ROYAL WEDDING the headline proclaims, and the article beneath manages to spin this surprise wedding into the culmination of a long-time love affair.
Fuck, there’s no getting out of this mess now.
“I’ve been your father long enough to know how to get you to do what I want.”
“So this is blackmail?” I ask.
“No,” he tells me. “You love your charmed life as royalty. You work for the Department of Wildlife, for God’s sake, earning pennies to roam the woods. Walking away from this marriage would mean losing all of that, along with your beloved cabin.”
