A Ring to Claim Her Crown
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Amanda Cinelli
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PROLOGUE
AT THE RIPE old age of nineteen-and-a-half, Crown Princess Minerva of Arqaleta was quite sure that she was completely immune to any kind of romantic attraction. She certainly wouldn’t do something so foolish as fall in love with the surly, redheaded prince she was destined to marry.
The old-fashioned betrothal agreement between her mother and the King of Cisneros had begun when she’d been fourteen and, every year since, Minerva had obeyed and undertaken her scheduled four-week summer visit with Prince Oliveiro. There could be no two people more opposite in this world forced to spend weeks together in one another’s company. Minerva despised reading and she despised silence and, by the time that first summer had come to an end, she’d been pretty sure she despised Prince Oliveiro too.
But...when she and the Prince had set eyes upon one another at this year’s summer garden party...everything had changed.
A simple dance had turned into hours of talking and soon she’d found herself introducing him to her favourite place in all of Arqaleta, a teardrop-shaped lake on the edge of the palace grounds. She had found it when seeking out an errant arrow as a small child and had taken it upon herself to cut back most of the thorns and weeds, cleaning and polishing the old stone benches and statues and stringing up solar-powered fairy lights.
She told him all of this in a flurry of nerves as he took in every inch of her den, not knowing why it was so vital that he liked it, but that it was. She needed him to love this place just as much as she did. As usual, he hadn’t spoken much, but, as he’d taken in the lake and the full moon reflecting upon the calm waters, she’d noticed his body visibly relax.
‘It’s so peaceful,’ he’d whispered. ‘Like we’re the only two people in the world.’
Then he’d turned to her, their eyes meeting in the glow of twinkling lights, and everything else had ceased to exist. No duty, no differences, no watchful parents...it had just been them, boy and girl... Her hands had trembled in his as she’d closed the space between them and pressed her lips against his. Her first kiss...and his too, he’d later confessed.
They’d kissed for so long, her lips had felt swollen and her body had ached. He’d stopped every so often, staring down at her as though he were afraid she’d disappear at any moment. Then he’d taken her lips again, their bodies writhing against one another in the dark.
He’d asked her to call him ‘Liro’ that night—a name that only his mother had used for him, before her passing when he’d been a young boy. A name his father forbade him to use, as he did with everything that reminded him of the beloved wife he had lost.
He could barely look at the son who resembled her so closely. No one else knew of the name. For the first time, she’d seen a glimpse of something wild and furious beneath Liro’s silent exterior. He was like an animal confined to a cage, pacing the length of the bars, consumed with the possibility of breaking free.
Their secret lakeside meetings became a nightly ritual over the following weeks. In the dark, she soon found herself offering up her own secrets too. Such as the long-drawn-out truth behind her parents’ supposedly amicable divorce and her father’s subsequent abandonment of her in favour of his new family. Liro always listened, her hand cradled in his.
They had never once spoken of the marriage arrangement that bound them, but she always felt it hang between them like a gauntlet of sorts. She knew that this summer eventually had to end and, when it did, Liro would leave. Only, this time, he would leave for obligatory military training in his home kingdom for two whole years and she would go to university in America. They’d be half a world away from one another.
On their last night together, she went ahead of him to the lake and waited, her mind swimming with all of the fears she’d tried to ignore. Would he think of her? Would he visit? Or would he abandon her without a thought, just like her father had?
That last thought stopped her in her tracks. Her own parents’ marriage had been a royal arrangement, a public front for the good of the kingdom and their allies. As a child she’d been unaware of the tension but, as she’d grown older, their turbulent relationship had become impossible to ignore or escape. She had witnessed Papa’s misery and resentment grow with each year he’d spent playing his role of King Consort.
Once they’d completed the terms of their betrothal...would Liro grow to feel the same way about her?
Her increasingly anxious thoughts were interrupted when Liro appeared at the lake’s edge and made his way towards her in the moonlight. There were no lamps—nothing but the glow of the moon to illuminate the stern set of his mouth as he came to a stop a few feet away. She moved towards him, reaching up to claim his lips in a kiss, only to find his movement stilted and off.
‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded, tightening her grip on his hand in a firm squeeze. His fingers were cold and he didn’t squeeze her back.
‘My father is here.’
Minerva inhaled sharply at the news, instantly understanding the change in him. King Guillermo didn’t usually join his son in Arqaleta. Liro despised his father and they had spoken of him often, now that Liro actually spoke to her. She reached out to touch his shoulder, only for him to turn away and pace towards the lake.
‘My father came to the archery arena yesterday to seek me out and instead he saw us...’
Minerva fought the wild urge to clap a hand across her mouth and scream like one of the characters in her mother’s favourite soap operas. Liro had accompanied her to practice to watch her as usual, but then her best friend Bea had cancelled and unexpectedly they’d had the whole arena to themselves... She had barely taken a breath before both of them had been semi-undressed and writhing against one another on a pile of soft mats behind one of the equipment lockers.
Only, instead of stopping at the usual point of safety, for the first time they had gone all the way—another first for them both. It had felt special. A uniquely real and private moment in a life where so much had to be prearranged and approved by others.
Now, to learn that they’d been seen, and by King Guillermo of all people... She felt her stomach turn. For all that Arqaleta had become more modern and free, the kingdom of Cisneros was old and staunchly traditional in its culture. Would she be blamed for corrupting their son?
‘What did he say?’ She squared her shoulders, all trace of the previous excitement fully quashed by the reality of their situation. She noticed how Liro avoided her eyes, how his hands were clenched together so tightly the knuckles glowed white.
‘He said he would speak to the Queen...’ Liro’s eyes searched hers. ‘That we would need to be married straight away in case there was a child.’
‘We were completely safe.’ Minerva shook her head, furious. ‘How dare he act as though we are a pair of errant children in need of punishment?’
A strange emotion shifted across Liro’s face. ‘Is that really how you would view marriage to me, Min? As a punishment?’
‘That came out wrong.’ Minerva inhaled a deep breath. ‘What I mean is that it’s too soon. I thought we would have years before we fulfilled the royal betrothal agreement.’
Liro’s handsome features hardened at her words, his voice a low whisper in the semi-darkness. ‘You knew about the agreement?’
‘Of course,’ she said, unnerved. ‘Wait...you didn’t?’
He shook his head once and Minerva felt her insides twist. He was utterly miserable at the revelation, that much was very clear.
‘How long...?’ He paused, clearing his throat. ‘How long have you known that you were going to be forced to marry me some day?’
Minerva shivered in the cool breeze. This reminder of their reality was cold and wrong, his words slicking over her skin like ice water. ‘I overheard them discuss the details on the day that you arrived, that very first summer.’
‘Well...tonight is the first I heard of it.’ He remained silent and still, his eyes scanning her with disbelief.
‘I thought that you knew. I thought that was why you were so remome at first. You argued with your father that first day...you seemed so unhappy.’
‘I was unhappy. I’m the youngest of three sons with a miserable father who only bothers to interact with his heir and his spare. Not to mention I’m the spitting image of the woman he can’t bear to think about.’ He closed his eyes and shook his head, a pained expression crossing his fair features. ‘My father is unhinged. He’s demanding that we get married as soon as possible, Minerva.’
She froze in his arms, a strange humming beginning in her ears. She’d been raised to believe that they were a progressive kingdom, that she would be free to rule as she saw fit whenever her time came. That she was trusted to know her own mind, to make her own choices, to experience some of the world for a while without the weight of her duty.
‘We’re only nineteen,’ she said, taking a step back until she was fully out of his reach. She couldn’t think if he was touching her, not when her body still hadn’t caught up with the reality of their situation. ‘I have plans to go to college, to compete with my archery. I don’t want to give that freedom up yet.’
Silence fell between them, a fraught, empty sound filled with the suffocating weight of their situation.
‘Who says we have to give up any freedom at all?’ he said quietly. ‘Why should we live by their plans and agreements? Why should we be treated as pawns?’
Minerva shook her head softly. ‘Liro... I’m going to be queen one day.’
‘You don’t have to be.’ He met her eyes, a strange wildness to his expression.
It scared her, that wildness. She took a step away, pulling out of his grasp and pacing towards the lake. ‘Liro, I love my country, and I trust my mother’s judgement. If this marriage is a necessary part of my duty, then I have to do it.’
He glowered down at her and for the first time she felt self-conscious under his gaze. She knew to others it might seem weak, always following the rules and expectations of her role. Of course, sometimes she got tired of being the dutiful daughter, the over-achiever. She was only human. These last few weeks, during their stolen moments of illicit pleasure, she had been Min. She had felt free with Liro... Maybe once they were married they could have the best of both worlds?
‘You don’t have to do anything,’ Liro said quietly. He took a step closer, taking her hands in his. ‘Min...haven’t you ever dreamed of running away to start over somewhere new? Don’t you ever yearn for a life of your own?’
‘This is my life.’ She frowned, pulling her hands from his grip.
Liro froze, his expression becoming strangely blank. The light summer breeze rustling the trees was a cacophony of sound against the unbearable silence that had fallen between them. Minerva didn’t know what to say in the face of his hurtful words. She’d known that he wasn’t fond of royal life back home, but did he truly believe her adherence to duty meant she didn’t live a life of her own?
‘I’ve never dreamed of running away from this, Liro.’ She waited until he met her gaze before continuing. ‘I’ve had five years to accustom myself to the idea of an arranged marriage. I didn’t plan for these last few weeks, but... I see it as further evidence that we will make a compatible couple.’
‘Compatible.’ He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes hard. ‘These past few weeks... Was this some kind of twisted exercise to test out our marital compatibility?’
‘Of course not.’
Liro made a cruel, scoffing sound, his anger clearly the reigning emotion. For a moment she contemplated laying it all out for him—how she’d been fascinated by him every year and had yearned for his attention. How she’d never felt happier than she’d felt these past few weeks. But then that small voice from before returned, reminding her what happened when you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. If she wanted a sensible, arranged marriage that would last, she needed to keep her emotions at a safe distance.
‘We can push for a long engagement.’ She stood upright, forcing herself to look away from him as she tried to disguise the crushing disappointment from his reaction. Clearly, Liro was not okay with the prospect of marrying her. She took a deep breath and adopted her most practised calm, regal smile, ignoring the tremor quaking in her abdomen with every word she spoke. ‘Who knows? It might not be so terrible. I believe it will be a good match.’
‘Do you want to marry me, Minerva?’ he asked, grey-green eyes pinning her in place.
‘Of course I do. I’ve just said as much, haven’t I?’
‘Tell me why.’
She squirmed under his attention, hating every moment of this conversation. ‘I l-like you, Liro. I think you would make a great consort. We’ve been friends long enough for our union to be...believable. We’re both royals, we know what is expected of our roles. It makes sense.’
‘You make it sound like a business arrangement.’ Liro scowled. ‘Marriage should do more than make sense, Minerva. What else?’
His demand, coupled with the harsh quality of his voice, made her feel small and uncertain. Like that younger version of herself who had called her father’s number every night to leave embarrassingly long voicemails detailing every moment of her day. She hadn’t been prepared for Papa to answer one day and coldly demand that she stop. The realisation that her own father hadn’t missed her the way she missed him, that he didn’t wish to be a part of her life any more than a couple of obligatory visits a year, had been the most crushing rejection she’d ever known.
Somewhere, in the last few weeks, she had let her guard down and now Liro had got under her skin. She had begun to rely on him, to long for him in a way that was far too much of a risk for their polite, royally arranged marriage. She needed to make things right. Needed to pull this betrothal back into safer territory, even if it hurt.
‘We seem pretty good together in bed, is that what you want me to say?’ She forced a smile, hating the flippant words as they left her lips. ‘What else is there?’
Liro stiffened as though she’d struck him. His eyes drifted closed and Minerva instantly wished she could take it back. She felt a rush of foolish words threaten to climb up from her chest, needy phrases full of hope and longing that had no place in a safe, royal arrangement like theirs.
His hands gripped her shoulders, holding her away for a brief moment as he stared down at her. He seemed tortured, undone with a riot of unspoken emotions.
‘You deserve more, Min,’ he said softly.
‘It won’t be so bad,’ she murmured against his throat. ‘Not if this is how it can be.’
Giving in to her own weakness, she leaned in to kiss him. No more than a few seconds passed before he groaned and kissed her back. He held her close, his grip intense and purposeful, as if he was afraid she’d disappear at any moment. He was usually careful with her, almost reverent. But this time as they tore off their clothes and began to make love it felt different, more urgent. She was still a little tender—it was only her second time, after all. But she didn’t care, not if it meant they could stop arguing and just go back to this for a while. She loved how he made her feel. She loved being with him...so much.
Tears filled her eyes and she told herself to pause, to savour this moment before their relationship became public property, but his lips against her skin made her mind swim. Liro gripped her jaw, tilting her face up to claim her mouth in a hard kiss.
‘I’ll remember you like this, always,’ he whispered. ‘So wild and beautiful for me.’
Just for him. Yes.
She gloried in his words, in the way he held onto her so tightly. She felt wild as her body began to shake with the force of her orgasm. She felt it the moment he joined her, his entire body shattering in her arms. Afterwards, he held her close to his chest, not withdrawing or letting go until the chilled night air made her teeth chatter. They were silent as they walked back to the palace but she felt strangely light.
She’d never harboured fantasies of a grand wedding. But the idea of being Liro’s bride...of having him as her husband...made her feel excited and vulnerable all at once.
He walked her as far as the palace gates, as was their habit to avoid being discovered, not that it was necessary any longer. His stiff hug and murmur about needing to take a walk to clear his head set off alarm bells in her mind but she shook it off, telling herself that she was just being sensitive. That tomorrow everything would be figured out. Liro’s whispered goodbye against her lips felt cold and distant but she didn’t question it.
She didn’t question anything...until it was already too late.
