Chapter 1
Nothing says happy birthday like getting stuffed into a dress to marry someone stranger.
“I don’t know why you’re upset? If anything, you should be blessed to have this opportunity!” Rachel exclaimed.
Elisa Fernandez rolled her eyes and ignored her best friend. Though she wouldn’t call Rachel a friend if she wasn’t the only one Elisa could tolerate. It was hard to find genuine friends when most people either wanted you for your connections or were trying to get on King Fernandez’s radar. That’s what happened when your last name connected to the King.
Sure, being born into a royal family sounded like a dream, especially being born into a powerful one, the one almost nobody dared to challenge. Not when her father had over half kingdom under his thumb—under his debt. Respect comes automatically whether or not you earn it. So did the perks: living in a mansion that stretched across ten acres surrounded by thirty more of perfect scenic landscapes. Besides, a land laid out for you? And a trust fund that spans not for your lifetime but also for your kids and grand kids?
Who wouldn’t want that.
But that was the only shiny part.
People don’t see behind the shiny where there were stalkers, threats and wrost of all, endless etiquette classes. The way her every move was controlled and monitored. They don’t see that privacy simply didn’t exist for her. And even if they did, Elisa knew they probably wouldn’t care as long as they get a taste of the benefits of being a royal.
But not for her. She didn’t want any of this.
All she wanted was a normal childhood. But that ship had sailed long ago. While children outside played tag and kicked around a soccer ball, she was stuck inside with a private tutor who doesn’t hesitate to smack her hand with a ruler every time she refuses to play piano. It kept pushing her but she never got better. No matter how hard she tried, she never improved. Probably because she didn’t care about it— didn’t have any passion for it. It is hard to improve when you simply don’t have passion for it.
Besides, she wasn’t good at many things anyways. Actually she wasn’t good at anything. And she was more than okay with that.
But what she wasn’t okay with was this life and the marriage thing.
Everybody said she was an ungrateful and spoiled brat because she had the life that handed her without requiring her to lift a finger. She knew they weren’t wrong. But still, she wasn’t happy. Nothing could make her happy—not even this luxury lifestyle.
Especially not now when she was getting poked and prodded while being forced into a custom-fitted gown where she was expected to pick a suitor.
She didn’t want to get married—not to a suitor or to anyone.
Rachel didn’t understand when Elisa told her that she didn’t want marriage. Her family wasn’t royal. Her parents got married because they loved each other—because they wanted to.
Elisa’s parents didn’t get married out of love. Her grandparents made a deal and used them to seal it. And Elisa was supposed to be thankful that at least her parents let her have a choice from the list of handpicked strangers that they lined up?
They hadn’t even met them. She didn’t know what they looked like or knew anything about theme.
And if they were anything like her father, she wanted to do nothing with them.
Her mother might have smiled like everything was fine, but Elisa could see through that smile, the way they dimmed when her father was being an ass toward her mother. The way her mother disappeared into her guest room and stayed there for hours while he openly flaunted his mistresses—not that anyone would care since it was normal for a king.
Maybe her mother was fine with that as long as she gets all the benefits of being a queen.
But not for Elisa. She didn’t want to be like her mother—knitting by the fireplace while her future husband was off somewhere getting his dick wet.
She didn’t know what she wanted to do or who to become. But to become someone’s wife, being their accessory in a crown and heels wasn’t it.
A tap on her stomach pulled her out of her thoughts. “Hold your breath,” one of the dressmakers said.
Elisa pressed her lips into a tight line as she sucked in a deep breath. The dressmaker mumbled something under her breath as she wrapped the measuring tape around dElisa’s waist then jotted notes.
Weighting over two hundred, Elisa knew she was probably the biggest client the woman ever has.
She inherited her mother’s curves but not her tiny waist. Elisa had belly pooch, her thighs and arms were softened and jiggled. She might have been snacking a bit too much lately, but what else could she do besides that? She already had watched all rom-com movies with her favorite bodyguard Miles and already played all of the board games multiple times. She was bored out of her mind since she was forced to stay home. She wasn’t even allowed past the hedge maze let alone near the Unmarked Forest, an ancient stretch of overgrown trees where even their guards refused to step on. They claimed once you go in, you don’t ever come back out. Elisa always had been told to stay far away from it.
Lately though, being disappeared into the forest didn’t sound half as bad as arranged marriage.
But right now, she stood there, getting fit for a dress for a night she never asked for. Rachel told her the latest rumor from her friends that Elisa would be picking a suitor tonight.
Not at twenty-one like tradition.
But tonight on her eighteenth birthday.
Elisa puffed out her cheeks as she let out an annoyed breath.
The dressmaker startled, her blue eyes snapped up at her. Elisa looked away and focused on the mirror.
She stood on a pedestal, her arms out slightly as people buzzed around her. SOme of them pricked her with pins by accident, others digging through fabric samples to find something that would flatter her skin tone. A few were still taking her measurements like she was mannuquin—not a person.
Her gaze slid from her long wavy hair down to her curvy figure and barefeet. She looked so much like her mother—same dark brown hair and pale skin, but a few sizes bigger. And her eyes, dark brown like King Leonard Fernandez’s, are not hazel like her mothers. She was grateful that was all she had from her father.
The last thing she wanted was to look like him.
“El,” Rachel called.
ELisa turned her head.
Rachel swirled in her pale pink, strapless A-line dress. The color popped against her olive skin. Her black hair was curled and pinned up into a beautiful bun. A few gems dotted on her temples. She looked exactly like the version of a daughter Elisa’s parents probably dreamed of.
It should’ve been her up there.
Not Elisa.
She gave her friend a soft smile. “You look beautiful, Rach.”
Rachel beamed at the comment and twirled again, holding the sides of her dress like a princess in a fairytale.
And Elisa stood still.
She didn’ t have a plan—not yet.
But one thing she was certain about was that she wasn’t going to marry anyone tonight
Not now.
Not ever.
