My father and his court are so fucking backwards. They care more about someone with a family than they do about someone with a proven track record of good management and charity. My charities have flourished over these years because I’m damn good at running them, just as I’ll be damn good at running this country. But just because I don’t have a wife and children, he can’t imagine putting me on the throne.
It makes no fucking sense, or at least it wouldn’t if we were anywhere else in the world. Unfortunately, I’m stuck in Polovia, the backward-ass capital of Earth. And I want to rule it.
I lean against the counter in my small kitchen. I hesitate a second before finding a bottle of whisky and pouring myself a drink. I need to figure out how to change my father’s perspective of me, and I need to do it fast. Julian may not be the official crown prince yet, but he will be if I don’t do something.
A wife and children. That’s all Julian has on me. Maybe he has more experience at court, but my father knows that counts for less and less these days. We aren’t in the fucking sixteenth century anymore.
I sip my whisky and think. I forget all about asking the steward to send Hazel to my apartment, at least until I hear a knock at my door. It pulls me from my thoughts. I walk over and open the door, smirking at the girl standing in front of me.
Hazel is fucking gorgeous. She smiles at me, a little unsure of herself. I can tell she doesn’t know why she’s here. Frankly, I don’t really know why I wanted to call her over. Maybe because I want to fuck her, which is obvious, but I should be keeping to myself right now. I need to change my bad reputation, not feed it by fucking the staff.
“I’m glad you knocked this time,” I say to her.
“I knew you’d make that joke.” She smiles despite herself, though.
“Come in,” I say.
“What can I do for you, Prince Nolan?” she asks as she steps inside. I close the door behind her before walking back into the kitchen. I grab my drink and turn to face her.
As I stand there and look at her, I have an idea. She smiles at me, uncertain and a little shy. I like how reserved she is, and although she’s not Polovian, she still has something special about her. And I know exactly what she can do for me.
6
Hazel
I don’t know what the prince wants from me, but I know I can’t refuse to see him. The steward stands in front of me, looking dour and annoyed like they always do, and I take a deep breath.
“Okay, lead the way,” I say in German.
He nods curtly and I follow him back toward the prince’s quarters. The stewards are basically like butlers, and every important person in the castle gets assigned one to look after him or her. I’ve never seen this steward before, but they’re always the same: prim and serious. They never step out of line, probably because they’re the ones that always have to directly deal with the nobles. The stewards typically keep to themselves, which I always found odd.
I follow the steward back to the prince’s room. I stop and knock on his door, and of course he makes some comment about that before he lets me in. I stand there and watch the prince as he walks into his kitchen and sips on a glass of whisky.
He’s looking at me like he’s appraising a fine cut of meat or something like that. I feel totally exposed and at his mercy, but if he thinks he can just do whatever he wants with me, he has another thing coming.
I won’t let some foreign prince push me around. I’m an American, damn it. I’m from the best country on earth and I was born free. I’m not going to be taken by some noble ass just because he wants me.
I don’t care if he’s incredibly handsome. And he smells good. And he has a very large royal package. And he’s funny, even a little charming. I don’t care if I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s not going to get whatever he wants just because he wants it.
“I know what you can do for me,” he says finally.
I let out a breath. “Yes? Do you need me to clean your sheets?”
He smirks but doesn’t take the bait. “I have a very particular problem, Hazel,” he says as he reaches down beneath the counter. He brings a bottle of whisky up. “Drink?”
I hesitate. “No, thanks,” I say.
He smiles and pours a second glass before topping himself off. “In case you change your mind.” He pushes it over to me.
Reluctantly, I walk into the room and pick up the glass. I sip the whisky, just to be polite. He’s still a prince, after all, and I should be nice to him. He’s my boss and I really do need this job.
The whisky is pretty good, and he smiles as I take another sip.