Fallen Princess

by Alexa B. James

  “But… You were a traitor,” said the young guard who had accompanied Gabor to my prison cell. Yet another who was intimately acquainted with the flavor of my sex.

  “Not to the throne,” I said. “I never betrayed the ocelot throne. It doesn’t matter if I defied Camila if she’s not the queen.”

  “Then… If you’re the queen, she’d be the traitor?” he asked, looking confused.

  “She’s not a traitor,” I said. “And neither am I. We both want what’s best for this nation, and right now, the dispute over legitimacy leaves us vulnerable. We need to coronate a queen tonight. Which means I need to discuss this with her and negotiate an agreement that works for all people.”

  “But if we let you through, and she wins, then we’ll be executed,” said the young guy, confirming my suspicions.”

  “And if I take the throne, you won’t live under that threat,” I said. “In fact, you’ll be free to do lots of things you can’t now. Fall in love, get married, have families. I’ll even provide for you all to go get therapy after all the shit you’ve been forced to do.”

  “We don’t want therapy,” groused an older guy. “We want our jobs.”

  “No one’s going to lose their jobs,” I said. “I will, however, allow you to quit and get another job if that’s what you want. No one should be tied to one job for the rest of their lives if that’s not what you want to do.”

  A few eyebrows raised at that, but I meant it. My father had never let a guard go. The only way out was death. Somehow, that didn’t quite seem fair, especially considering what he ordered them to do on a daily basis.

  “I don’t know,” the older guard who had tasted me said. “She’s got a point, right?”

  He glanced at the others for input. At least half of them nodded, which was encouraging. They hadn’t shot us on sight, so it was already better than I’d expected.

  “Search them for weapons,” said another one.

  “We don’t have weapons,” I said, turning slowly. I was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a tank top, clothes I’d found in the room where we showered, which only convinced me further that my mother had lived her last weeks in those chambers.

  “I have weapons,” Gabor said. “A guard is never without weapons.”

  He stared straight into the eyes of the others as if challenging them.

  “Fine,” said the older guard. “Gabor, keep your weapons. But the second you reach for them, ten of us will have you dancing a jig.”

  I cringed at the image that put in my head of Gabor’s body being riddled with bullets as they all fired on him at once and he tried to stay standing.

  “Understood,” he said simply.

  We walked through the row of guards holding guns on us from both sides of the hall. If my nerves weren’t already frayed, they would have been by the time we reached the heavy doors to Camila’s chambers. I took a deep breath, forcing myself not to look back over my shoulder at the dozen guns pointed at our backs. Instead, I turned the latch, expecting a dozen more guns pointed in our faces when I swung open the door.

  Instead, the room looked so normal it caught me by surprise. Sure, there were half a dozen guards inside, but they were standing in corners, in position and on alert but not ready to blow us to smithereens. It made me almost more jumpy to know that Camila, who must have heard us coming, hadn’t ordered them to be at the ready. My gaze instantly scanned the room, taking in each of my mates in one sweep, just to be sure they were all alive and unharmed.

  At last, I let myself believe they were fine, that they hadn’t come to see me in jail or after the arena spectacle or even today because they didn’t love me anymore, not because she’d kept them in shackles and dragged them around on leashes, never letting them out of her sight.

  Camila stood in the center of the room on a small platform while two frantic seamstresses hemmed her velvet coronation robes and purple taffeta gown with intricate gold stitching around her tiny waist and a diamond studded bodice. She looked absolutely breathtaking. I knew they would have been working on her gown for months, but since I’d never seen it, I could only stop and stare. She was every inch a queen, regal and poised and dripping with priceless gems. All she needed to complete the ensemble was a crown[LH2].

  Maybe she’d wanted me to see her for this very reason, to throw me off my game, to see how perfectly she fit the mold of queen while I came running in wearing someone else’s clothes stretched skin-tight over my curvy figure, my hair in a wild tangle as usual.

  “I should have known the guards were worthless,” she said, adjusting her white satin gloves with an air of indifference. “I’ll replace them all tomorrow, when I’m queen. It was in the plan, anyway. This was just a test to make sure I was right. As usual, I am.”

  “Well, you’re wrong about one thing,” I said. “I’m not going to stand back and watch you kill them. Our father is no longer king. We don’t have to follow in his barbaric footsteps.”

  “Our father wasn’t barbaric,” she said, her eyes turning hard. “He was a hero, the savior of our nation. Before he took the throne, we were embroiled in all the ICFN turmoil, in debt to the Tiger Empire, and lawless as a bunch of human slobs. Do you realize what he did for the Ocelot Nation?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He pulled out of all the international agreements to help the world and other nations and only focused on selfish ambitions.”

  “Of course you don’t understand shifter politics,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re not a shifter.”

  “I understand fine,” I gritted out. “Our father was an isolationist who choose not to help others when he could have. Sure, he did some good things, too. But he probably killed more ocelots than any conflicts with other nations would have. You can’t pretend he was a saint.”

  “I suppose that’s why you killed him,” she said, looking down her nose at me.

  “I didn’t kill him,” I said. “And I can’t believe you’re defending him after what he did last night. In case you’ve forgotten, his last act as king was to cast you aside and proclaim me the heir to the throne.”

  “Because he was under your spell,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing. “He would never do that without your… Distasteful magic interfering with his judgment.”

  “My magic was blocked when he made that decision,” I said, pacing forward until she held up a hand to stop me. I glared up at her. “You saw Gabor put the cuffs on me a month ago, and you saw them come off in the arena when my magic got loose. Before that, I couldn’t have enchanted him if I tried—and believe me, I wouldn’t want to.”

  Lord Balam, who was lounging back on the bed, crossed his feet, looking way too comfortable and at home on someone else’s bed. Suddenly, all I could think about was the writhing mass of bodies in the arena the night before, the mass orgies taking place in all the seats. Camila and my mates were in a private box reserved for royals, so no one else would have been with them except maybe some guards. But they’d gotten a dose of that magic, too. Had they all fucked her? Had they been fucking her all along?

  I doubted it. She was too prim and proper and traditional to have a whole crew of guys fucking her. But maybe she’d chosen one. Which one would have been good enough for a princess? And even if she hadn’t chosen one of them, last night, she would have been as affected as everyone else. They all would have. How could they look at me with no shame for what they’d done?

  “Right,” Camila said sarcastically, dragging me back to the matter at hand. “Like you didn’t want to be queen.”

  “Wait, I thought you were accusing me of killing the king,” I said. “I want to be queen, and he was making my dreams come true, so why on earth would I do that?”

  She huffed and rolled her eyes. “This argument is pointless. You were the last person seen with him, and you’re guilty. I’m going to be queen, and you’re going to be dead. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “You won’t answer because have no proof, and you’re contradicting you
rself,” I pointed out. “Yes, I do want to be queen. The difference between us is that I want to do it for the good of this nation and every person in it, ocelots and humans and everyone else. You just want the power and the title.”

  “You know nothing about ruling,” she snapped. “You’re not fit to be a chambermaid, let alone a queen.”

  “And yet, we both have a claim to the throne. You can’t just proclaim yourself queen and expect me to go along with it.”

  “You don’t have a claim,” she said. “You’re the only one delusional enough to think so.”

  “You know that’s not true,” I said, remembering the horrific scene that had come minutes after I’d arrived in the Ocelot Nation to be greeted by a cheering crowd.

  “You’re a human,” she hissed, kicking the hem of her dress out and clipping the seamstress’s finger. She didn’t even notice. “You can’t be the ocelot queen is you’re not an ocelot! Even if you showed up to the coronation in a coronation gown, which you don’t have, the King’s Council won’t be putting a crown on your head. There are rules to these traditions, Itzel. It’s not chosen at random. Any person off the street can’t waltz in and claim the throne and expect people to take them seriously. I am the queen. End of discussion.”

  “Except I’m not any random person,” I said. “I’m the person the amulets chose. I’m the daughter of a queen. And I got every single one of those amulets.”

  “Funny, since they’re in my possession,” Camila said. “Now leave. You’re irritating me, and I need to focus on my coronation speech.”

  “You know, I came to negotiate,” I said. “You’re making me think I’d rather just take you down.”

  “Just try it,” she hissed. “It would save us both the boredom of a trial.”

  “I was actually thinking that I wouldn’t mind if you were queen,” I said. “You’ve prepared for it for far longer than I have. I will step aside and withdraw my challenge if you’ll grant a few of my requests.”

  “You’re a criminal,” she said slowly. “Why would I negotiate with you?”

  But I knew it wasn’t that simple. History was written by the victors, after all. If I took the throne, I would be not a traitor, but a savior to our nation’s human population, at least. I was only a traitor if Camila succeeded and labeled me as one.

  “I’d like to be an advisor—your top advisor,” I said. “I’d like a say in all policies related to the humans in this country. After all, I’m human, like the majority of people you rule. Those people should have a voice, and I’d like to give them one. I’d also like to change the way the guards operate and the way trials are conducted. And I’d like you to return my mates to me.”

  “Did I say I wanted to hear any of your demands?” Camila asked, planting a hand on her hip.

  “I thought you’d want to hear them so you could make a rational, informed decision instead of killing your own sister out of spite.”

  Camila snorted. “Oh, trust me, my decision is very informed. As far as your mates, I’m not holding anyone hostage. They’ve been free to come and go as they please since the day I freed them from your enchantment. Sorry to break it to you, Itzie, but they just didn’t want to see you.”

  She gave me a pitying look that made me want to scratch her eyes out. “Because you enchanted them,” I said. “I never did anything like that.”

  I turned to the guys, though it nearly broke my heart just to look at them now. They’d left me, and even if it wasn’t their fault, knowing they no longer returned my love nearly broke me into a thousand pieces. “Don’t you see what she’s doing to you?” I asked. “You know she opened the amulet on you. You have to see that love isn’t real.”

  “What we feel is real,” Prince Kwame said quietly, his voice a thickly accented rumble. “No matter how it came about.”

  I wasn’t prepared for how much hearing his familiar voice would hurt. I nearly stumbled, but Gabor’s strong hand steadied my elbow. I had broken the spell on him, but it wasn’t like I could invite these guys to eat me out and get their senses back.

  I stared at the lion prince, the one mate who had loved me from the first moment, who had been loyal and treated me like a queen before I had any aspirations to be one. The man who had teased me when I was a kid, who had taken me to see my mother in the Spirit World and told me he would do anything to keep his mate happy. He had planned to marry me. I had given him his very life, for fuck’s sake. He had once told me he would be forever in my debt, that he’d devote that life to making me happy. Now, he was ready to lay down that life for Camila.

  I couldn’t bear to look at his kind, open face any longer. I turned to Shadow, who sat motionless on the foot of the bed next to Lord Balam’s feet. “What about all those things you said about Camila?” I implored. “That she was dangerous and unfit to be queen. Even if you love her, that doesn’t change those things.”

  He shifted, looking uncomfortable. Maybe I shouldn’t have repeated his words, exposing things he’d said before he loved her, but I had to make them see reason.

  “It’s true that Camila needs a lot of support,” he said. “But we’ll be here with her to give her strength when she needs it.”

  “You hate ocelots,” I whispered, my hope fading. Because they might see reason, but they felt something entirely different. Love was beyond reason.

  “I didn’t hate you,” he said quietly.

  That nearly crushed me, and I had to take a gulping breath just to keep from crying. I hated that he spoke in past tense. I hated that he could justify his love for her by saying he’d loved me, too, and that I couldn’t deny that we were both from the same family, both ocelots. Even if my ocelot had died, I was still a shifter by blood. My people had killed his family every bit as much as Camila’s had. And even though he, too, had said he would do anything to keep his mate happy, from watching other men fuck me to stealing the amulets when I hadn’t been strong enough to stand up to Camila on my own, his loyalty was now all for her.

  I didn’t know how I kept going, how I didn’t give up and give everything to Camila in that moment. But I still had hope somewhere deep down, though it grew fainter with each word my mates spoke.

  I turned to Sir Kenosi, the man who had given me his cheetah, who had loved me enough to give his life for me before. “You said—.”

  “That I’d rather have an icicle shoved up my dick than stick it in someone so frigid?” he said, cocking a brow and leaning back on the edge of her dressing table, his legs crossed at the ankles, his fine, tailored suit hugging every angle of his body to heartbreaking perfection. “I know. But she’s a lady. I wasn’t used to that. I’d never had one before. The women in my life have always been… Common. Until her.”

  Camila raised her chin and gave me a triumphant smirk. I nearly choked on the tightness in my throat. He’d used that word, the one Camila used to describe me, as if even her manner of speaking was wearing off on him. He might as well have called me a whore and said he was upgrading to someone worthy of his love.

  I wanted to stop then, but some masochistic part of me couldn’t walk away without hearing every one of them give me their excuses, the reasons their love for her was greater than their love for me had ever been.

  I turned to Lord Balam, the man who had taken my innocence. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d taken Camila’s, too, though the thought made me almost vomit with jealousy. Desperation clawed up my throat, and the words poured out on their own. “You worked so hard to get my father off the throne,” I said. “You gave me the amulet so we could end his reign.”

  “And we did,” he said levelly. “Camila is right, Itzel. I have no ill will towards you, but you’re being hysterical. Your claim to the throne is flimsy at best. To be blunt, you have no legitimate claim to the throne. Not when Camila is here, perfectly prepared and capable of ruling.”

  “It’ll be just like his reign,” I whispered, the last of my hope draining away. Lord Balam had been my champion, and since day one, he
’d been determined to end my father’s rule. Now, he was enabling her to continue it. But he was right. She was the oldest, the first in line. She’d studied and prepared for this, and yes, manipulated her way here with threats and enchantments and trickery. But here she was, all ready to make the procession to the throne room.

  And here I was, about to burst into tears of pain or fury at any moment.

  “Now, I think we have all indulged your preposterous notions long enough,” Camila said. “You are royalty, and I won’t shoot you in the street like a wild dog, no matter how apt the comparison. I will afford you a fair trial, over which I will preside as the judge. You will be sentenced and executed as a reminder to the people of this country that we are a strong monarchy and do not stand for dissent, especially in our own ranks. That’s all I have to say in the matter.”

  She snapped her fingers, and the seamstresses instantly stepped back. But she only made an offhand gesture to the guards, as if I weren’t worth bothering with anymore. “Take her to the dungeon,” she said. “She’ll await trial there.”

  “Wait,” Tadeu said, rising from a chair in the corner where he and Jetsun had sat in broody silence until now. “You can’t trust the guards. They let Itzel in here.”

  “You’re right,” Camila said thoughtfully. “You take her. Guards, put the special cuffs on both her and Gabor. Wouldn’t want her trying to enchant you on the way down. You’re my most powerful guard, after all.”

  She batted her eyes at Tadeu, which made me nearly gag. She hated his guts and thought he was a pathetic human last I heard. But when it suited her to keep him enthralled, she was all smiles.

  I thought about trying to blast them all with magic, but I didn’t have it at my command just yet, and I knew getting turned on wasn’t going to happen in the three seconds it took the guards to reach me. My mind raced, and I glanced at Gabor, wondering if he had a plan. He looked stoic as always as he allowed his fellow guards to cuff him. There were six of them and only two of us, and even if we’d somehow gotten past them or had time to convince them to join us, we had my six mates to contend with.