by Gwen Hayes
But this New York was not the New York she remembered. Her social calendar was filled with obligations she didn’t choose. Her body fitted with outfits she hadn’t picked. She hadn’t even gotten to order her own meals. She’d tried to talk Papa into going for a sandwich with her, but the Duke of Carlysle said it would be too hard to secure the area on short notice, and the king had decided no sandwich was worth the trouble.
This ball could have been an opportunity for fun—but somehow her father, Aunt Elaine, and Carlysle were able to suck the life out of that too. For one thing, it was during the day. What kind of ball happens during the day? Boring ones. That’s what kind. She hadn’t even been allowed to choose her gown. Aunt Elaine insisted, and her father agreed, that the best way to rise above the storm of Lord Balton was a low profile and a horrible dress with too much tulle and poof.
Nobody in the United States could even pick her out of one of their police lineups, nor would they have heard of Sivartania. They especially wouldn’t care that she and Gregor, Lord Balton, had broken up. Besides, they liked royalty with a little side of naughty in America. Harry got a lot more press than William did in the states. Harry was her idol.
Gregor, had been a mistake, to be sure. A very handsome and wickedly fun mistake, but that’s all she’d been after anyway. Merriam had horrible taste in men. Mostly on purpose. She liked the first month of a relationship. She liked bad boys. She liked a little bit of drama. She liked a bit of reckless.
“She needs to settle down,” her father said slamming something on a desk or table. “I can’t spend all my time worrying about her. I want her married by year end. Elaine and I have discussed it. I’m going to choose a groom.”
Merriam’s heart picked up new rhythm, a really uncomfortable one. He wouldn’t dare. Would he? Technically, the king could force her to marry anyone he chose. But this was the 21st Century. Nobody did that anymore.
“Your majesty?” Even the duke was surprised. That never happened.
“My sister says she’s choosing men to get attention from me. Well, it worked. I want her settled down with a good man. A man who can rein her in.”
“My apologies, your majesty, but does such a man exist?”
The next time she got in a room with the duke, he was history. He was right, but still. He was such a stodgemonster.
Besides, what kind of man wanted a woman he could rein in? Good ones liked a challenge. Of course, she’d never dated a good one, so what did she know?
Her father made some sort of snarly sound in the back of his throat. “Probably not, but then she’d be someone else’s problem.”
Merriam locked her jaw to keep the outraged gasp in. Someone else’s problem?
“I’m not sure that choosing a husband for the princess is a good idea. She’ll fight you on it.”
Damn right she will.
“I just want her safe and settled, Carlysle. She’ll thank me when she’s got a castle full on babies.”
A castle full of babies? A castle full of babies! Maybe Papa had hit his head.
“Your majesty—”
“I’m announcing it next week, when we get back from this trip. We’ll have a royal ball. I want you to start security preparations.”
Next week?
He didn’t even know who he was “choosing” and he intended to announce it in a week. Was he planning on telling her future groom before then, or would he find out at the ball as well? Merriam’s vision blurred red.
Talking to Papa would be useless. Her father no longer valued her opinion. And he was king, so there were no legal options available. Not really.
She’d always known that one day, she’d have the duty to marry well for her country. Her brother, as crown prince, had more responsibility to that end than she did. But if something happened to Michael before he produced an heir, then she’d be queen. Not something anybody wanted.
If she were king right now, she’d make sure Michael filled the castle full of babies before worrying about marrying Merriam off. But Michael was a man and she was not. So he could do what he wanted and she could fill the castle with babies and be a problem to an unnamed husband.
Merriam backed away from the door before she barged in and gave the two men plotting her life a piece of her mind. She had to get away. Had to think.
But first, she had to slip her protection detail.
About the Author
Gwen Hayes lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and the pets that own them. She writes fiction for teens and adults about love, angst, and saving the world. You can find more information about Gwen at www.gwenhayes.com.
