The Royal Race

Chapter 1: Desperate Measures

My life was composed of little more than begging.

Begging for more hours at work. Begging my landlord to let me pay rent late. Again. And, when things were truly desperate, begging my parents for money.

In my defense, I tried to explain to my parents that their money went toward important things. Like rent. Or that time I tripped on a subway grate and broke my fall with my face, resulting in an emergency room visit I definitely couldn't afford. They told me that wasn't justification enough, and that I should just get a full-time job.

So they cut me off.

But they didn't get it. I wasn't meant for a corporate nine-to-five. I was a social creature in search of creative opportunities. Photography, specifically. I had a small online following and an old SLR camera that took incredible pictures when it felt like cooperating.

Right now, photography was just a hobby. But I had big aspirations of turning it into a career someday, and that wasn't exactly compatible with being holed up in an office cubicle.

Believe me, I'd tried.

As it turned out, with no degree and nothing but waitressing gigs under my belt, most companies were unimpressed. And the pool of eager young women seeking employment in New York City was mighty deep.

Which is how I ended up resorting to desperate measures.

I, Addison Collins, better known as Addie, signed up for a contest to marry the Crown Prince of Olestria.

Yeah. I know. It sounds really, really stupid.

A marriage contest? Who decided that was a good idea? And who was to say it was even real? For all I knew, I was about to be drugged, beaten, and sold into slavery in a foreign country.

Was I going to be taken?

My money was on no.

I did my research. Olestria, a relatively small nation in northwest Europe, founded by some old, dead English king, was just a step behind its motherland in terms of laws, practices, and culture.

Sure, they did some things differently. Namely, conducting their search for the next queen like it was The Bachelor. But overall? Not terrible.

Olestria was a popular tourist destination thanks to its proximity to France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. It was well-funded, invested heavily in the arts, and had a strong foothold in trade and commerce.

In other words, marrying the prince meant marrying the nation and all the wealth that came with it.

I know how that sounds.

I wasn't greedy. I wasn't a gold digger. I would never lie to someone or use them for their money. I just...wanted to try.

It was crazy, I knew that. And I was ninety-nine percent certain I wouldn't even be chosen.

But what if it worked?

What if I fell in love with a prince and finally got the chance to pursue everything I'd ever wanted? What if I didn't have to worry about my background anymore? What if I could just be me?

And what was so wrong with that?

Nothing.

Which is why I sent in my application.

"Yo, Addie. Time to wake up."

I snapped out of my daze as Kimberly, my first manager of the day, stepped out of her office.

"Sorry," I muttered. Kimberly was actually pretty great, despite managing what I considered one of the most stressful jobs imaginable: a coffee shop.

People were assholes before they had caffeine, and she dealt with all of them. Being a Queens native helped. She might've come into the city for work, but she made damn sure rude customers knew exactly who they were dealing with.