The Prince’s Bride – Part 1 (The Prince’s Bride #1) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Prince's Bride Series by J.J. McAvoy
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
<<<<506068697071728090>101
Advertisement


“When my mother was your age, she wanted to be a ballerina. She wanted it more than anything. She had gone to school for it, and she had actually even performed in a few productions. But then she met my father, and there was no way the future queen could be seen twirling around on stage. She was forced to make a choice and chose my father. My father did not want her to be unhappy, but he could not yet change the rules, as my grandparents would not have allowed it. After they were married, he had her perform in the palace. The only people who saw the performance were a few close members of the family. But it made her happy, anyway.”

“I thought you said women did not have to give up their careers?” And the amount of worry that came over me was strange, seeing as how I hadn’t agreed to marry him.

“My father changed the rule when he became king. But she was older and more focused on being a mom to the three of us. She did not dance again after that, but she did make Eliza try.”

“So, your sister is a ballerina?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “She did not even entertain our mother’s idea. She went to one class and refused ever to go again. Everyone tried to tell her to give it a few more tries, and she outright refused. She was six. My mom took her anyway, and so Eliza decided to just sit down for the whole class. My mother gave up.”

“Why do moms always try to live vicariously through their daughters?”

“Not just mothers and daughters but fathers and sons, too.”

“Your father is a king, and he tries to live through you?”

“Not me at all. I always joke that I am the spare. He tries more through Arty, my brother, the Adelaar.”

“The what?”

He lifted one of the photo books, looking through them. “It means the eagle apparent, or what you would say as the crown prince. In France, they call theirs the Dauphin. In Ersovia, we say Adelaar. And the wife of Adelaar is called the Adelina. The white eagle is the symbol of the House of Monterey and thus the monarchy.”

“How long has your family reigned?” I asked.

“Since 1597.”

“What?” They had been kings and queens before America was America. Jamestown hadn’t even existed yet.

His eyes focused on me, and the corners of his lips turned up. “The House of Monterey is the longest-ruling family in Europe, not that it matters much. There are not many kingdoms left.”

There was a flash of sorrow as he closed the book, putting it back where he got it from.

“Are you worried about that?” I asked, coming closer to him.

“All royals are worried about that,” he whispered. “However, I always wonder if that time came for us, what will it be like for the last king? I’m sure Arty will make it through, but what about his future son or daughter, and their children. The people love us today, but love is not always enough—as history has clearly shown.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Tell me about it. People ask if I have wanted to be king. And I always say absolutely not. I get almost all the same perks without the stress.” He chuckled.

“But the fact that you think the way you do means you are worried about your brother. It’s sweet.”

“The fact that you were worried about missing your sister’s husband’s event shows that you are not as angry as you seem and still want to look out for her.”

We both eyed each other.

I couldn’t say anything; he had caught me off guard with that. Luckily, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll be right back.” I didn’t want him to say anything. Dashing to the front door and without even thinking, I opened the door.

There was my sister in the flesh, dressed in track pants and an Etheus active, long-sleeved shirt under her zipper jacket, with a headband in her hair. Her light-brown eyes widened as she saw me.

“Where have you been?” she screamed at me, pushing her way into the house. “I’ve called over and over. I went to your place, and the doorman would not let me up. I tried calling again. No answer. Your shows were over hours ago. Why didn’t you come today? Are you seriously so pissed off at me that you wouldn’t even show up? I had the press asking me why you weren’t there. There are rumors all over the place saying we are fighting—”

“Augusta, breathe.”

“No, I’m angry!” she hollered. “Yes, I was wrong for getting married and not telling you. But you know why I had to do it! We have been in litigation for a year. We need to pay lawyers and bills. It was a simple solution. I didn’t tell you because I knew you were going to judge me! ‘Oh, you will do anything for money? Oh, Augusta, we can find a way.’ I couldn’t. I don’t have another career like you do to fall back on. And don’t say I could go work at a restaurant or something—as if that could pay our kind of bills! I kept lying because I was embarrassed. This wasn’t some elaborate plot by me to take all the money.”


Advertisement

<<<<506068697071728090>101

Advertisement