For the Crown (PREVIEW ONLY) Formerly Prince Gallant

CHAPTER 2: ACCEPTING THE HOPEFULS

Queen Amara swept into Lena's room and bade her to sit before pulling up an additional chair beside Lena's vanity. Her round face was stony as her honey-colored eyes roved over Lena's blue gown, finished hair, and clean face. When she next spoke, she kept her voice calm and controlled, honed from years of practice. "That was a very irresponsible thing you just did, Lena. You have not behaved the way a princess ought to behave."

Lena crossed her arms. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Mother."

"Do not play dumb with me, young lady." Amara's eyes narrowed and her voice lost a measure of its control. "Your games have gone too far. Do you think this is a joke?"

"I'll tell you a joke, Mother, a wonderful joke." Lena's face flushed. "That I cannot rule because I am a woman—that I cannot step into my birthright because of my sex? That is a joke. The funniest joke in all the world."

Amara's chest deflated. The queen had a slight build, similar to her daughter's. "We've been through this so many times. What you say is not true. Your father and I are not withholding your right to rule."

"Then why can't I become queen on my own?" Lena sat up straighter.

"You know the answer, but still you ask." Amara shook her head. The deep blue gems in her hairnet glittered as they caught the light. "You are a human, Lena. Human."

"You mean, I'm not good enough," said Lena. No matter how many times her parents told her that, no matter how many times they made it painfully clear, hearing it never got any easier. Dragonwall was meant to be ruled by the Drengr, with the crown passing from father to son. Lena had broken the line, but even then, there was still a chance for it to continue. That's why the Drengr hopefuls were here.

"Lena, you're intelligent, strong, clever..." Her heart constricted upon hearing her mother's praise, rarely given. "Even if you are a little too stubborn. You can still be queen. You can still rule."

"Only with a mate, Mother. Only with a Drengr king as my figurehead." The nails of her fingers were biting into her skin, but she kept her fists clenched and her arms crossed.

"All the more reason to take this ceremony seriously," said Amara. "Frightening away your guests is not a good start."

"Ugh!" Lena threw up her hands, slumping back in her chair. "I don't want a mate, Mother! Perhaps someday, when I'm ready, but not now. It is unfair—you know it is. You know that if I were a male, this ceremony business wouldn't be required."

"If you were a male, Lena, you'd fledge into a dragon. If you were a male, you'd have hundreds of years to live. But you're not and you don't. Your eighteenth name day is right around the corner. You understand what is at stake here. Why must you be so difficult?!" Amara sighed in an attempt to regain her composure. Little lines had appeared around her eyebrows where they were drawn together. "You know the words as well as I. In the rare event that a female is born unto the Drengr monarchy, she has until her—"

"Eighteenth name day to find a mate, else she must give up her right to rule. I know what the Charter says, Mother." She had read it over and over, trying to find a loophole. Late nights spent with a candle in hand, haunting the library, poring over the document in hopes of finding a way out. None existed.

"Then why must you fight your father and I? We did not make the rules." Amara leaned back in her chair, finally abandoning her good posture. These arguments of theirs had become increasingly frequent.

"I'm fighting you, Mother, because it is absolutely ridiculous—absolutely unfair."

"Be that as it may, it is tradition, and you will abide by it."