Two knights escort me to the crown prince’s drawing room, where Prince Isidor is waiting. Three palace guards take up various positions in the room around him, their presence inobtrusive but ever watchful.


    “Greetings, your Highness,” I say, dipping a polite curtsy.


    The crown prince does not look up, but I notice an almost imperceptible flicker of confusion in his expression.


    Oh, now that I think about it, the original Linnea would not have bothered to address the prince in accordance with his station. In theory, the crown prince’s status should be higher than mine. The reality, however, is that all governing power is shared between the four ducal households. The royal family has not held real power in over a hundred years. This crown prince is destined to grow up as a puppet monarch.


    Prince Isidor’s discomfort around me is very apparent. He still hasn’t bothered to reply to my greeting. Of the three palace guards in this room, I recognise one as belonging to the Corydalis household. He’s the one watching me closely, poised to act should I voice my displeasure with the crown prince’s treatment of me. I’m sure that’s how these meetings have gone in the past.


    “Leave us,” I instruct. “I would like to speak with the prince in private. You are all dismissed.”


    Even the two who are not associated with my family’s house know better than to cause trouble. They do as they were instructed, closing the door and leaving the crown prince and I alone. I didn’t mean it as a show of power, but Prince Isidor looks silently frustrated. His posture pretends at relaxation, but his muscles are all tense like he is bracing for a fight.


    Still not sure how to approach this conversation, I cross the room nervously and sit in a plush seat opposite him. Prince Isidor pointedly continues to ignore me.


    I wish I could just be honest with him. I wish I could tell him that I know about his secret alter-ego, and that I want to help him achieve his goals. I read all about his struggles, and I know for a fact that he will end up victorious. But there’s no way he would believe that. Even someone I had a good relationship with would struggle to believe that I’m not originally from this world. That I woke up one day as Linnea Corydalis, a character from a novel I read, with no clue how I got here. But the crown prince hates me. Instead of the truth, I need to give him a believable lie.


    Linnea, for all her self-proclaimed love toward the crown prince, was a source of constant torment in the original story. Her “love” was more like obsession, and she viewed him as a thing that belonged to her. As an aside, it was mentioned once in the novel that her favourite hobby growing up was making grown men cry. Affection would not have exempted him from her sociopathic wiles. They’ve been betrothed since early childhood too, so he’s already put up with her for more than a decade.


    “I’m not here to cause you trouble,” I say softly. “Actually, I want to offer you a deal, if—if you’d be amenable to that?”


    This time, finally, he looks up at me. Brilliant sapphire eyes, smouldering with barely restrained hatred, pin me in place. A shudder runs down my spine. In the flesh, Prince Isidor is more intimidating than I was expecting—it really feels like he wants me dead. But then, he has probably learnt to keep his guard up at all times wherever Linnea is concerned.


    “A deal?” he says flatly, arms crossed. “What do I have to offer that you could not simply take for yourself? You’ve never cared about permission before.”


    I wince. Goodness, this is off to a bad start. What’s worse is that I can’t exactly argue against him. I know how awful Linnea was. If ever she wanted something before now, she would have taken it right away—bargaining would have seemed beneath her. There is no use denying the past. But if I play my cards right, I may attempt to rewrite it. The best laid plans start out with a sincere apology.


    “I am sorry for how I’ve acted, your Highness. I know you may not believe me, but I deeply regret my behaviour. I do not mean to make excuses, but it bears acknowledgement I was under immense pressure from my family. They encouraged me to treat you in a certain way, and I should have known better than to blindly obey.”Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    I let out a shaky, relieved breath. There, that should do it. An apology that accepts a sufficient degree of accountability while also shifting enough blame to outside influences that a sudden 180 in personality isn’t so unbelievable.


    “You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You expect me to believe such nonsense?”


    My shoulders fall. I wasn’t expecting much, but the vitriol in his voice still hurts to bear.


    Linnea was incredibly vocal about her affections and was not known to apologise to anyone, regardless of fault. To Prince Isidor, my words probably seem like a trick. Such a thing wouldn’t even be unusual; she was fond of mind games. My apology was not enough. There’s no way out now but to further the lie.


    “I don’t believe I ever felt true affection for you, your Highness.” I aim to keep my tone and manner humble, repentant. “We were betrothed when I was only eight years old. You were the only future I ever knew—that I was ever offered. So, I tried to convince myself that I loved you. The effort nearly drove me mad. It was only recently that I realised I was making myself miserable, not to mention hurting you too.”


    He sighs, dragging a beleaguered hand over his face. He does not look convinced, but he appears too confused to argue the point any further. “Fine. Say what you like. Now, what is this about a deal?”


    Yes, okay, my plan is actually working! Whether he believes me or not, I knew the crown prince would be too smart to miss an opportunity to bargain for his own gain.


    “As you know, the royal guards are instructed to obey my orders without question. If I request it, they will ensure our privacy for the duration of this visit, and for all future meetings as well. I realize they don’t extend the same courtesy to you.”


    A tendon in the crown prince’s jaw tightens. I continue on quickly, “I-If you agree to my proposal, I will act as your alibi. You’ll still need to remain out of sight—perhaps a simple disguise would work—but aside from that, you can spend those hours however you wish. No one will be looking for you. As long as you return before our scheduled meetings end, everyone will assume you’ve been with me the entire time.”


    He looks incredulous. “That’s… uncharacteristically generous of you, my lady,” he says, shock evident in his voice.


    Then, like a light going out, his expression shutters and freezes over. That cool sapphire gaze pierces me like a knife. “However, I struggle to imagine you sitting patiently by yourself for multiple hours. You say you’ll pretend I was with you the whole time, but I don’t trust you. Why would you go so far?”


    “It wouldn’t be for free, of course,” I clarify hurriedly. Actually, I would do it for free, but Linnea would never. “I will demand something in return.”


    He eyes me warily. “Very well. What is it you want?”


    Okay. I take a deep breath, clutching my fists together tight to stay my rattling nerves. Here goes nothing.


    Summoning all my bravery, I declare, “I want to court your brother instead.”


    The crown prince embodies everything you’d expect a hero to be. He is tall, broad shouldered, with defined jawline and high, sculpted cheekbones. The hours spent on sword training every day reflect in his muscular arms and chest. Sapphire irises smoulder with a deep, burning intensity. His golden-bronze hair is swept back from his face, though a few loose strands fall over his temple, adding to his rugged allure. Full, dark eyebrows and dusty pink cupids-bow lips complete the picture.


    I am well aware I’m in the minority opinion when I say he just isn’t really my type.


    Don’t get me wrong! I loved him as a protagonist. His story was deeply engaging. But when other fans would gush about his looks and daydream about being romanced by him, I learned to stay politely quiet. They could have him if they wanted him. My preference was always for the second prince.


    "What?" The crown prince frowns, looking baffled. "My brother? Do you mean Florian?"


    "Yes," I confirm, sucking in a breath and clasping my hands tightly together. This needs to work.


    There are three royal children in total. Prince Isidor is the eldest, but there is also Princess Cassandra and the second prince Florian. Among the four duchies, there is a small faction levying their support for the princess to succeed the throne instead. The same is not true for Prince Florian, whose existence in the Palace is largely ignored.


    "That''s—Have you even met him before? Where has your sudden interest come from?"


    "Your Highness," I say, with a rueful smile. "Do you really think my parents would approve of such a match? They only care about the potential political gain. Prince Florian will never be King, so he is worthless to them."


    The crown prince raises an eyebrow. "Oh? But not so worthless to you?"


    "No, not to me. I realise I''ve yet to spend proper time with him, but I do know about him. I like everything that I''ve heard."


    "What have you heard?"


    Hope surges in my heart. That wasn’t an outright ‘no’. "Your Highness, may I take this to mean you are considering my proposal?"


    "I… Look, I''m only trying to understand your request first. Why Florian? What is it you want from him?"


    "I told you. I like him."


    The crown prince sits silently for a moment. Then he sighs. Sitting forward, he holds out a hand to me. "To reiterate," he cautions. "You will meet with him instead of me, without letting anyone know? I get a few hours of freedom, and you get a few hours with Florian?


    I reach for his hand immediately and shake it. "Deal?"


    His eyes haven''t lost their wariness, but his voice is resigned when he replies. "Deal."