Headstrong Heiress

Chapter One

 "Charlotte, get over here already. I've left some gowns for you in your closet."

Of course she had.

Annoyance growing within me with each step caused me to roll my eyes. Mistake.

"Do NOT roll your eyes at me."

That was my "mother". I hated her with every fiber of my being. All she did was boss me around. I was half sure I wasn't even her biological offspring.

No, I wasn't abused as a kid. She just, never liked me. She either went out of her way to avoid me, or yell at me.

I heard the sounds of footsteps as people ran about. Getting ready for another evening. Another party. We had parties every week. I hated them. Probably because all everyone did was brag and one up each other, talk about how important they were, and gossip about someone.

This sucked. A lot.

I finally did drag myself out of the plush pillows and donned another dress. It was stunning. As I twirled in front of my spotless mirror, its red sparkles shone. With a plunging neckline and its tightness enhancing my curves, I realized she did this on purpose.

My mother had been nagging me about it for a year. To get married. To some powerful prince.

"It's the least you can do for us. Duke Ledford, an alliance with him would prove very useful. Think about it, Charlotte. You have a name to uphold."

What she didn't mention was that Duke Ledford was 27.

Keep in mind I was 16 at the time. That was the last straw. I didn't talk to my mother for a month after that.

I wondered what new prince she had managed to convince that I was the perfect match for him.

With a final sigh, I stepped out. I straightened my back and took careful, dainty little steps down the steps to the ballroom. I caught my mother's eye, and she nodded in approval. So far, so good.

A number of people turned to look at me. Critiquing me, fake smiles covering their faces, as they mentally judged my outfit, makeup, hair and everything else.

Princess Charlotte Westcott.

I hated that title. I finally reached the floor at a snail's pace, and snagged a glass of wine. I really didn't have the energy for another few hours of polite greetings and shy smiles. My eyes scanned the room, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw him.

Oliver.

The only guy who was nice to me at school. He walked over with a smile. He was pretty handsome, or as my helper Betty said, "A truly dashing young man".

At 5'10, he was pretty tall for our age of 17. His wavy dark brown hair, with a bit falling over his face, made me want to run my fingers through it each time I saw him.

Gawd, I sound so cheesy.

Whatever. A girl can dream.

"May I have this dance?"

You didn't even have to ask.

We gently swayed to the beat, with hundreds of hours of dancing lessons making it perfect.

Maybe, just maybe I could convince mother that Oliver isn't too bad of a match. He was a prince too, after all. Just not as powerful as she wanted.

Well, my life wouldn't be amazing, but at least it would be less miserable by Oliver.

I was interrupted from my thoughts as Oliver nervously whispered, "Aren't you slightly unnerved that Darius will be here?"

I stopped dancing as a quick feeling of fear made me shiver. The dress wasn't helping at all.

I whispered back, "What? Did you say Darius?"

He nodded. "You didn't know?"

I shook my head as my eyes widened.

But why would Darius be here? Didn't he have better things to do?

Darius was easily the most feared man in the entire country. At the impressively young age of 22, he was also considered the most eligible bachelor, with kings flocking to his feet, begging him to marry their daughters. However, so far, he hadn't made a move.

I continued dancing with Oliver, albeit half heartedly. I was on edge the entire time, sneaking glances at the entrance every now and then. Finally, when time seemed to stop, and the entire room stood still in collective silence, goose bumps flocked my arms, I knew.

He was here.

His personality was louder than any previous noise, as his every step generated fear. He radiated power. The bravest of men would cower before him.

I lowered my eyes, and so did Oliver. All I wished was him to not notice me, and walk over.

He walked over to my father, and greeted him with a cold look. Everyone watched in awe as they shook hands. No wonder everyone seemed to be dressed extra nice. One wrong look, and you'd be dead.

He nonchalantly looked across the room, his eyes finally resting on me. He exchanged a few more words with father and made his way over to me. My heartbeat thundered and made me want to run away, my breathing grew faster, and shivers wrecked my body.

He scared me that bad.

Not me, please, don't come here.

Oliver somehow looked more afraid than I was. Darius finally stood in front of me.

"You're looking beautiful tonight, Charlotte."

I didn't know if I wanted to puke, or get out of there. With some effort, I finally made eye contact.

"Thank you."

Wow, that came out more polite than I'd expected.

He slowly nodded to himself. He seemed to just notice Oliver, who I was sure was sweating even though it was really cold.

He stared daggers at him. "And who is this?"

Oliver seemed too bewildered to talk, so I spoke on his behalf. "He's Prince Oliver Astley, son of King Travis of the southern islands."

He nodded slowly. He seemed to be doing a lot of that nodding thing. "And how do you know each other?"

Why was he interested? "We're friends. We go to the same school."

With a thoughtful look, he looked at Oliver and gave him a once-over. "Get out of here."

I was taken aback. What did he just say?

Since neither of us moved, he repeated himself. "Oliver, get out of here."

That coward ran. I didn't even know he could run that fast.

He fixated his cold gaze on me, as his piercing blue eyes seemed to read my thoughts. "Would you like to dance?"

Before I could even think, I blurted out, "No, thank you."

Dozens of people turned to look at me with a collective gasp. I must've said it louder than I thought. Or, more likely, they were pretending to converse while eavesdropping. I started to sweat. Why did I say that?

He leaned in closer, until out faces were just inches apart. In a low voice, his next words almost made me want to pee my pants.

"What did you just say?"

He had heard me. He just didn't like being told no.

He came closer, and grabbed my waist. In reflex, I punched him, hard. Years of self defense courses did that to a person.

A loud, collective gasp surrounded me.

Reality dawned on me as I just realized what I'd done.

I had just doomed my entire family.

We were so screwed.

I took a few steps back, mouth wide open, as the fear hit me in full force. He let out a grunt and looked up.

Blood was gushing out from his nose.

What. Had. I. Done.