Chapter One

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This story is going to have a few different languages I am sure, but most importantly it will be in English and partly Swedish. There will be translations for the Swedish but I don't know Swedish so if google translate gets it wrong and you do know Swedish, feel free to correct me so I can make sure this is accurate.


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The summer sun caresses my skin, threatening to burn it. Birds chirp softly in the distance, and the leaves rustle as the wind blows hot air through my flyaway streaks of brown hair. The sound of cars rushing past and voices can be heard in the distance coming from outside my walls of confinement.

I shift my body and reach down to pull the side of my bikini bottom back. A gently line of lighter skin sits where my bikini was, telling me I'm beginning to tan. Setting my bikini back in the same spot it was in before, I tap the screen of my phone and sigh at the time. It's one thirty, and I need to be dressed and ready to be in public for the press conference by three.

I sigh gently and push myself into an upright position, glancing around at the luscious green grass and flowers littering the gardens around me.

It's beautiful, and I would give a lot just to spend a whole day free to do whatever I'd like.

Unfortunately, that is not a life I've been given. Not that I dislike my life. In fact, I love it, but sometimes I wonder what it would've been like if God had given me a different card.

I grab my towel and stand up, shaking off the grass. I slide on my sandals and head up the brick pathway towards the staircase that leads up to an enormous large porch. There is a door dead in the center with two guards standing on either side, and a staircase to the left and right of the door that leads to a balcony that takes you up to the second floor. The yellow paint on the palace is pristine, repainted every few years to ensure it remains just as beautiful as the day it was built in 1662.

I reach the top of the steps and head toward the doors.

"Your highness," both guards say in sync. They bow gently and open the doors, holding them for me.

"Thank you," I reply, walking through the doors.

The air conditioning envelops me instantly and I sigh in relief, passing the guards waiting inside the doors. Both of them bow in my wake as I walk past. I walk down the long hallway with the towel slung over my shoulder, passing enormous paintings of my ancestors and statues of past kings. I pass one of the paintings, of the only female monarch to ever rule over Sweden. Queen Kristina was Queen when King Gustavus died in battle. She took the throne at age eighteen and held that title for twenty-two years. Her portrait always inspires me. I suppose I relate a lot to her because the next female monarch to rule over Sweden will be me.

I take a deep breath and continue past the paintings until I reach the staircase.

The tile floor is cold beneath my feet as I ascend the staircase and head past the portraits of every married King and Queen to ever rule over Sweden. I reach the door to my suite and turn the golden knob, walking into my bedroom.

My bedroom is one of my favorite places in the whole palace. With soft purple walls and white tile, it looks extremely clean and classy. Large windows line the wall on the right and the wall in front of the door. With two large glass doors that leads to the balcony, and a ceiling painted in intricate details o the night sky, there is no way I couldn't love it. My bed sits against the wall to my right. It's a large bed, a California King, with marble posts, white sheets and grey pillows. I have a fluffy rug in the middle of the room, along with a seating area and a large marble desk littered in music sheets. There is a white easel on the balcony, along with one on the left side of the room. It is placed near another desk that is covered in painting supplies that were neatly organized by my maids, Melina and Alice.

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