Page 3 of Royally F*cked

Of course. The weight of the crown is already bearing down on me.

“It’s time. Your 35th birthday is quickly approaching,” my grandfather sighs. “And the very first thing we need to do is begin cleaning up your image. No more late nights, gallivanting around town.”

I grunt and mumble, “if only you knew.”

There was a time when my grandfather was right. I spent many nights out on the town. Drinking. Partying. Doing things that I’m not the least bit proud of.

My only defense was that I was once a rebel teen. Mourning the loss of my parents the only way that seemed to numb the pain. That was, until my grandfather ordered me to serve in the Royal Marines for a few years. I let the stories about my rebellious ways continue on, long after I hung up my party hat. And even though the king is typically aware of every move his pawns make, it would seem that my grandfather isn’t as aware as he thinks he is.

“The pictures may have stopped, but reports of your behavior continue to make headlines,” he scolds.

Because I pay for my truth to be hidden. I’ve gone through great lengths to keep my true whereabouts private. Not just for my sake.

“That must end. I’m afraid that it’s time you settle down Julius. To take the crown you must. . . “

“. . . wed and provide an heir,” I finish for him. I’m quite aware of all of the rules.

“Not just any heir, Julius. A male heir, to carry on the family name. And a spare.”

“A spare. An heir and a spare? You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hiss. “For a monarchy that has become so forward-thinking, this certainly sounds like I’ve stepped backward into the 18th century!”

“Lower your voice, boy,” my grandfather warns, reminding me that while I may be his grandson, he is still the king and deserves my respect. “I understand you may not approve but it is the way things are done. If you do not like it and choose not to comply, then it will be you who will publicly abdicate the throne.”

“And what happens then?” I challenge, even though I know I won’t be forfeiting my proper place as King.

“Then you would be turning your back on your family. You’d be shunned and lose your title, among other things. Is that really what you want to do?”

“No,” I run my hands over my head in frustration. “You know that.”

Growing up, I didn’t always love the life I was born into but the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve grown to love my country and having been looking forward to one day reigning over Herefirth and severing my people.

“Then I suggest you begin looking for a suitable partner,” he stands, indicating that this meeting is just about over. “I’ll announce my plans to retire the day after your wedding. You have six months to tie the knot.”

My eyes widen. “You surely cannot expect me to marry and deliver an heir in that amount of time.” I can’t recall the last time I was involved with a woman. Nor can I think of anyone that even piques my interest.

Except for . . . a flash of golden blonde hair and emerald green eyes come to mind.

No. That would be a terrible idea.

“Marry, yes. Then worry about the offspring. In that order, Julius. We can deal with the rest of the formalities later.”

On second thought, maybe she’s exactly the woman for the job.

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