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Virgin Bride(127)

By:B. B. Hamel


It all seemed so simple when we first talked about it. I wasn’t much interested in marrying a strange girl, but my control of the country needed a boost, and I couldn’t deny that a male heir would help a whole ton. I was willing to give it a shot, at least.

It seemed easy, right up until Bryce slapped me across the face.

I looked out the window at the city rolling by. It was my city, my favorite place in the world. I used to live in an apartment right downtown, and I could walk around the place just like anyone else. As it turned out, being the younger brother of the true heir meant nobody really cared much about me, which was just what I wanted.

But now I was stuck in the castle, away from the city and the people I loved. Ruling was boring, but it was important. I wished I could go back to my old ways, but the country needed me. They needed me to step up and rule them as well as I possibly could.

I didn’t need a distraction. In fact, my advisors had been working very hard to get rid of distractions.

But as soon as that girl hit me in the face, I knew she was going to take a lot of my attention. I was already hard just thinking about all the attention I wanted to give her.

I was King Christophe Werner von Brunhild the Third, Prince of the Lowlands, King of Starkland, and I was going to marry that fiery American Bryce Koch and get her pregnant if it was the last thing I did.





3





Bryce





I’d never been in a castle before. Americans didn’t have castles. There wasn’t the kind of history in America that there was in Europe. There just wasn’t anything that old.

But this Starklandian castle was gorgeous. It looked like something out of an internet search for “perfect euro castles.” It was all high stone walls and tall spires jutting up into the air. The city had clearly grown up around the castle, sprawling out away from it. Modernity met the ancient right in the heart of the city.

As far as I could tell from the car, that was the best description of Starkland possible. The modern world and the ancient world pressed up against each other everywhere I looked, from old-looking fountains to a high-speed rail line. Electricity and cable lines twisted through the air right next to two-hundred-year-old, Victorian-era streetlamps. The buildings were a mix of old and new construction with seemingly nothing to separate it.

Stehen was a city of juxtapositions and mixtures. It was a hybrid city, where the old met the new and created something absolutely beautiful.

I was already enamored with Starkland when we finally pulled up inside the castle’s courtyard, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next.

I thought I understood what a castle would be like. I’d seen movies and TV shows, and I figured I had a good idea. But as we walked into the main building, I realized I was absolutely wrong.

Just like the city, Stehen’s castle was a hodgepodge of the modern and the ancient. Our guide, a man named Maximilian Josef who had a bushy white mustache and looked like he was two hundred years old himself, pointed out some of the history as we moved. Next to a computer terminal was a painting over three hundred years old. The stones were all original, but the lavish rugs and tapestries were all additions over the years. I almost jumped into the air when he told us that the rug we were walking on was over a hundred years old.

As we walked along, I couldn’t help but stare at the sheer amount of wealth lining the walls. I’d never seen such opulence and modernity before in my whole life. Everything was electronically controlled on touch screens, and the little control panels were all over the place. They were well hidden, though, behind million-dollar statues and mirrors with golden frames. It seemed as though everything we passed had some historical importance.

Finally, we reached our rooms. We were staying in the east wing of the castle, which was reserved for foreign dignitaries and other important guests. Maximilian stopped in front of an ornate red door and opened it with his handprint, pressing his palm against a flat screen next to the knob.

“This will be your room, Miss Koch,” he said, nodding at me. “Before entering, please place your hand here.”

I followed his instructions, putting my hand on the screen. It beeped once.

“Okay. This door will now open to your palm print. Come inside, please.”

I followed him in and my breath was taken away.

Inside the room was an enormous four-poster bed, a full-sized fireplace, rich velvet and mahogany furniture, and my own private bathroom with modern amenities. There was even my own little touch screen on the inside that controlled everything from the temperature down to the humidity.

“There is Wi-Fi throughout the building should you need it,” Maximillian said. “To access, simply select the option on the screen and use your palm print. Your bags will arrive shortly.” He turned to my father and my stepmother. “And if you’ll follow me, you’re right next door.”