The Prince or the Crown

chapter one

*please note that this book contains explicit language, (f-bombs) which may be offensive to some readers.*

It was two days before I got the letter that I realized I absolutely hated my boyfriend.

It wasn't like he was bad or anything. He was hot, average-level smart, and decently nice.

The thing was, he was just so... boring.

For one thing, he had zero understanding of sarcasm, so whenever I made any sort of sarcastic or ironic comment, he would take it to heart and go off on lectures about how I needed to be a nicer person.

And besides having no sense of humor, he also had no life.

I can get studying for tests, trust me, and I understand the thing about not partying so hard because we're in college or whatever, but this man lived in his parents' house, hated animals, didn't watch TV or read books unless it was baseball-related, and basically believed women should just stay in the house and do nothing all day.

He was your average American guy you meet, marry, and have a nice, simple life with. My mom loved him because he was nice and quiet, my friends loved him because he looked like a celebrity, and everyone told me I was lucky to have him.

And I guess I was. It's not like I had guys lining up at my door, especially not ones that looked like him.

So, after deciding that I absolutely hated my boyfriend, I also decided that I wasn't going to break up with him. Not yet. It was clear I probably wouldn't get another for a while, and having one is better than none, I guess.

Plus, I didn't really have a reason to break up with him. If someone asked me, "So why'd you break up?" and I told them I was "just bored," they'd tell me I was being unfair or picky, or that I didn't try hard enough. Especially when the person I was "bored" with was the guy half my friends were crushing over. Breaking up was like firing someone; you had to have a reason. You can't just fire someone without a good reason, otherwise you could get sued for wrongful termination.

And every time I would open my mouth to my friends or family with one little complaint about him, I'd either be gaslighted, guilt-tripped, or lectured into believing he was the one who should be complaining about me.

So, it felt set in stone that Joshua Harris was the man I was going to be with until the day I died.

Until I got the letter.

There are 44 monarchies that still exist in the world, but to Americans like me, kings and queens and castles are far-off fairy tales from the way we live our lives. Most people have only heard of the sovereign of the United Kingdoms, but even so, royalty has always been a foreign subject, which is why it's such a common trope in books and movies.

So, living in Brookings, South Dakota, I had only faintly heard of Aeqaea, a monarchical country near Finland that was about the size of Florida. But all I remembered was that it was a name off a list I had to memorize for a test.

What I didn't remember were the strange and slightly unethical practices of their country that both intrigued and disgusted people from America.

For one thing, beginning the day of the sovereign's fiftieth birthday, all royal sons and daughters over the age of twenty would compete in the Trials, a year-long set of tests and games that would determine the heir to the throne.

And only a year after the conclusion of the Trials would begin the Matching, where a hundred of the most eligible suitors in Aeqaea would be narrowed down to whoever the heir to the throne decided they wanted to live with for the rest of their life. The Matching would put the suitors through up to a year's worth of events, tests, and games tailored by the heir and sovereigns. The final suitor would be chosen by the heir at the end of the Matching, and he or she would share the burden of the crown with the rising sovereign.