“Ah, there you are!”

A chipper male voice shouts in Vladesvyan across the stables Ben and I have just walked into. The massive brick and wood building has been on the grounds of Novokeva Castle forever, and it sure looks that way. Antique riding equipment pieces are used as wall decorations, and the actual stables are carved with ornate designs. Typical of Ben’s royal house to be this extravagant. 

“Your Highness, it is so good to see you back here!” The man, short and nimble with a thick shock of peppered hair gracing his head, bows before addressing us again—this time in English. “And it is even better to see you here with your fiancé.”

Blood rushes into my face. I’m still not used to that word. If I’m not used to that word I can’t imagine how I’ll react when people start calling me his wife, and calling him my husband.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you,” I nod. “Ben’s talked a lot about you.”

The man’s eyes light up joyfully before he checks himself and gathers his composure. “Aha, I knew you would never forget me,” he teases Ben.

Ben chuckles, “How could I forget you, Ivan? You whipped my butt for years.”

“Yes, yes I did,” Ivan states proudly. Then, he turns his attention back to me and asks, “Now, Your Highness have you ever ridden before?”

I shrug, “At summer camps, yeah.”

He lets out a groan of disgust. “Oh, those horrid excuses for riding programs across the pond are absolutely—oh, they make the lot of us instructors red with fury. I bet they didn’t even teach you how to turn the bloody horse!”

I confirm his theory with a, “Nope, they didn’t.”

Throwing his hands up in the air quite dramatically, he motions for us to follow him further into the stables. On the way, he rants about the horrible training programs in the U.S. while flailing his hands every which way. A few times both Ben and I have to duck and dodge away from his arms and hands.

It’s quite comical, the process of getting ready for the lesson. First, Ivan leads me over to three horses being held by three young stable hands. Two girls and a boy stare back at Ben and I like we’re aliens with three heads. I suppose it’s only natural, though. I keep forgetting we’re back in Vladesvya and all the people here know us. 

“I want you to pet each of them, and take your time choosing one. The one you choose will be yours until it dies—and the other two will be your back ups in case of an emergency.”

With a silent nod, I step forward. The stable hands release the reigns and allow me to get closer. All three of them are a grayish white. The one on the left is a little too jumpy for me, though. I skip to the one in the middle and find that he’s friendly, but the one on the far right is the one that I finally pick.

“Ah, good choice. This one’s name is Zvezda. She’s a purebred Orlov Trotter, very nice stamina and wonderful at—obviously—trotting,” Ivan explains excitedly.

Zvezda. It means ‘star’ in Vladesvyan and Chirnovian—one of the many common words we share.

It’s another hour before I even get on the damn horse. He makes me go over how to get on it gracefully—aka a lesson on how not to make a fool of myself in front of seasoned military riders.

“Your posture has gotten sloppy, Your Highness,” Ivan teases Ben as we lazily stroll out of the stables. I can feel the curious eyes of all the workers on us already. Hopefully, Ivan takes us somewhere far away from private eyes.

As Ivan drones on about proper posture and position in the saddle, Ben leans over and asks, “Noticed our special entourage for today?”

When his eyes skip to a point on the right of me, I turn my head. Just a few yards away from us, four military riders have taken the place of our usual guards. Gabe, Marc, Sergei and Misha must be jumping with joy at the chance of a day off. 

“Well that’s different,” I mumble, turning my attention back to Ivan. 

Ben sighs, “That’s one way to put it.”

“Come on, you two I know you are not incapable of simple cantering!” He shouts back at us as he kicks his horse on.

I look over at Ben, and see a familiar flicker of playful competitiveness in his eyes. It’s on.

“Well, come on then,” he teases with a bright grin.

The next thing I know we’re racing after Ivan, and the guards are fast on our tails. I feel so strangely at home amongst the countryside here as we canter into the forest. This riding ensemble; the coat and pants and boots felt so uncomfortable and strange at first. Now, I’m perfectly at home—even with this itchy helmet on.

“Wonderful posture,” Ivan compliments. “I was told you were a dancer. That’s a good advantage, but it is not just about posture and nimbleness. It is about connecting with the horse.”

With a raise of my eyebrow, I glance over at Ben—who is currently stifling laughter. “Okay…”

And so, I begin my journey to becoming “one with my horse” amidst a chorus us chuckles from Ben and his new military friends. The look on in amusement as Ivan trots beside me on the trail, making me stop and go a million times before eventually teaching me how to properly turn the horse. But the backing-up part is the hardest. Try as I might, I can’t quite seem to get the horse to back up as elegantly as Ivan’s or Ben’s.

“You just need to get used to each other, that is all,” Ivan assures me. “You have done very well with everything else. Now, let’s try one-handed riding.”

“What?” I can barely control this enormous beast with two hands.

Ben chuckles, “Are you forgetting the salutes we’ll have to do, Ann?”

Throwing him a glare, I lift my chin up a little higher and threaten, “Benjamin Alexander Maximilian, stop it with your sass today or you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.”

I just barely catch the look of shock on the guards’ faces before they look down at their laps and stifle laughter. Ben himself raises his eyebrows, startled. He asks, “Did you just triple-name me?”

Ivan butts in, “That’s how you know the woman means business, Your Highness. Better be careful or you’ll be waking up next to a pillow instead of your fiancé.”

With a humorous grin, Ben falls back a bit and lets Ivan take over once again. It takes me a long time to get the courage to let go of the reigns with one hand. I can feel the sweat beading in my palm through the riding gloves. They’re going to feel absolutely disgusting by the time this day is over—not to mention smell disgusting.

I push on, listening to Ivan’s thick accent and occasional outbursts of Vladesvyan. Some Vladesvyan words I can understand, and others leave me with a blank look on my face. 

Ivan invites Ben back over as we loop around the trail going around a large pond. He suggests, “Why don’t you and the guards introduce Her Highness to some of the commands? She will need to know when to halt and salute and such. I believe you are the correct person to teach in that respect.”

With a polite nod, Ben assumes Ivan’s place to my left and winks. “Might as well learn some now.”

I roll my eyes as he begins talking about the various commands.

“Blagoslovi van!” is the call for salute. “Pozorat!” Is their call for attention. 

“Da niech żyje korol!” Long Live the King. Oh, I can just see the smiling face of Victor now. He enjoys hearing that far too much. 

“And when you hear Milost pre printsem i kronprintsema, that is a salute to us. We are allowed to relax for a moment.”

I snort, “Oh, wonderful. A moment. What does that mean, anyway? Grace to… grace of…”

“Grace Be to the Crown Prince and Crown Princess,” he explains with a grin. “It is much like Long Live the King, but for the heirs to the throne—something unique to our kingdom.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Kingdom? You know, I’ve always wondered, are we still officially called that?”

Running a hand through his helmet head of brown hair, he answers, “Yes. We are, at least by EU standards, the Kingdom of Vladesvya, Chirnova and the Baltiysk Isles.”

“Will it be called a KingQueenDom when we’re the monarchs?” I joke, knowing that, had this marriage contract never happened, I would be a Queen in my own right. The only thing I can do to make myself feel better about it is to joke.

His grin falters for only a moment before returning. “No, unfortunately our system is still very sexist, in my opinion. But, you will still be considered a Queen in your own right and will be treated as such. As opposed to being announced as the Queen Consort, you will simply be… the Queen.”

It makes me feel a little better. He adds, “And my Coat of Arms as King will include symbols from yours… my father and I want your people to feel as included as possible…. and I want to make you feel as special as possible—you know, to make up for the fact that we—.”

He’s rambling again. “Yes, Ben. I get it. Thanks.”

I swear he blushes. “Right. Sorry. Ah, Ivan! Why don’t we head back to the stables? My father is expecting us for dinner.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” he gladly obliges. “But I do hope to see you and Her Royal Highness out here as much as possible before the parades.”

I assure him, “We will. Every chance we get, Ivan. I promise.”

He takes my assurance with a nod and smile before trotting off ahead of us. He’s an amazing rider, and I can’t help but admire the way he races off across the field. 

“Are my relatives coming for dinner too?” I ask, practicing with one hand. I bite down on my bottom lip in concentration.

“Yes, but only the Duke and Duchess. Princess Aniella is in Switzerland on a skii trip and Prince Michal happens to be taking part in the same summer training camp at Sandhurst that I attended as a pre-teen. They’re adjusting pretty well, you know.”

With a proud smile I tell him, “I know. And they’re making life so much easier for me. Not to mention the rest of my family—my mom’s side. They’ve relaxed a little now that my dad’s side has started to come back into the picture.”

“It’s all coming together, finally.”

“Yeah and it only took a few bombs, a couple of assassination attempts and the arrest of a monarch to get this far,” I reply blandly.

Ben acknowledges my sarcastic quip with a roll of his eyes. I notice the way he flinches and immediately regret saying anything.

I sigh, “Ben, I’m—.”

“Sorry, I know. Look, you don’t have to apologize every time the topic is brought up. I’m going to have to learn to deal with it.”

An uncomfortable silence settles between us. I can feel the full weight of the officers behind us. I hate always being watched around him because I feel the need to always interact perfectly with him. If we don’t get along in front of the workers they might start spreading rumors that might make it to the media—and that’s the last thing we need. I can see the headlines now Crown Prince Given Cold Shoulder By Fiance, Wedding Plans On The Fritz!

We ride the rest of the way back to the stables in silence. Once we’ve peeled our helmets off and begin the walk to the main castle we’re joined by our usual security personnel. Gabe and Marc greet me with winks before they fall into step a few yards behind us.

“I love you,” I remind him, reaching for his hand. He lets me intertwine our fingers, squeezing my hand as I lean into him.

“I love you more.”

“Oh no, not this again.”

He laughs. It breaks the awkward silence between us, making me sigh in relief. The rest of the walk is filled with jokes about Ivan’s riding posture and accent. Apparently he was raised in the mountains, which explains why his accent was noticeable even to Ben. He seems like quite a remarkable guy, with several riding medals under his belt, including one from the Olympics—a respective bronze.

On the way back up to our guest suite in this sort of country-getaway for the royals, we encounter Victor. He raises a curious eyebrow before yelling over his shoulder, “You two better clean up before dinner, you smell like horse shit!”

Such a wonderfully blunt future father-in-law. 

Ben gives himself a good whiff under the arms as Gabe and the rest of the guards chuckle behind us. “Do we really smell that bad?”

Gabe answers, “Yes.”

I cringe, and then sigh in relief as we enter our suite. The first thing I do is strip off the riding boots and coat. Marc takes our helmets before heading out to guard the door with the other three. Ben and I are finally left alone.

“I can’t deal with the constant hovering,” I complain as I strip down to my underwear. “I mean, I know the security threat is high right now but still. It’s annoying.”

He admits, “It’s getting to me too, love. It’ll go back down soon, hopefully.”

For a moment, I stop to admire him in just his boxers; hair messily splaying out every which way and eyes drooping. This is the side only I get to see; the side of him that the newspapers and news stations don’t talk about. Everyone sees him as the perfect prince. As far as the people of our commonwealth know, he’s never tired, never gets aggravated and is always up for a guest appearance at a military training exercise. 

I must have stared for too long because he suddenly asks, “Enjoying the view?”

Realizing that I myself am not even wearing a shirt yet, I flush and grab at the blouse sitting on my dresser. Katia, the newest addition to my entourage and apparently my official ‘lady-in-waiting’ must have put this set of dinner clothes out.

I finally answer him when my eyes are safely staring at myself in the mirror and not his bare chest. How he still manages to make me blush so hard, I will never know.

“Yes, in fact, I was.”

Our disgustingly lovey-dovey banter goes back and forth until we look at the clock and see that we only have five minutes to make the trek down to the main dining hall.

“What’s for dinner?” I ask, expecting duck with liver and caviare or something ridiculously expensive like that.

Surprisingly, he tells me, “Most likely steak with an assortment of vegetables that no one is going to eat. Oh, and my father has a certain… love… of potatoes. So expect those.”

“Potatoes?” I just barely hold back a snort.

He shrugs, “Yeah, puzzles me, too. My mother used to ask him why all the time, but he never really had an explanation. I guess it’s just the taste.”

“Of all the things for a King to love,” I point out. “Potatoes? Shouldn’t he love, like, roasted duck or something?”

Without missing a beat, Ben replies, “Well, maybe we aren’t as pretentious as you think we are.”

I roll my eyes, “I never said either of you were.”

Before he can answer back with some smart-ass remark, a voice shouts at us from down the hall. 

“Come on you two, the food is getting cold!” 

Turns out, it’s my uncle Piotr. He’s far more chipper than the last time we met and he certainly looks better. He was such a worried mess when I left for the states a month ago.

“Our apologies,” Ben laughs as we step through the doorway and into the dining hall. “We’ve been riding since noon and lost most of the feeling in our legs.”

As I let out a laugh my eyes finally take in the massive room we’ve just stepped into. It’s everything we had back at the main palace, but more… warm. Instead of a crystal chandelier there’s a wooden one, and the color scheme is brown, green and blue; relaxing earth tones that put me at ease—as opposed to the gold, blue and white of St. Agnes Palace.

But then I see the table as we sit down in our seats. The cutlery is still silver and the cups are still goblets. The placemats still look like they’ve been woven with silk. It’s all a bit… much.

The only thing that distracts me from my discomfort is the fact that my aunt and uncle are here; that Ben and Victor are here; that we’re all sitting here—finally—together. Best of all, we’re all alive. We’re laughing and joking and Piotr is telling me stories about my parents. This new life is drastically different and totally not what I was expecting, but it’s surprisingly good.

I assumed I would be homesick for the first few days, but right now I’m enjoying myself way too much to be upset. Now I can’t sit in my room all alone and dwell on things. There’s always something for Ben and I to do, whether its writing letters, working on the YouTube channel our press advisors made us or giving Victor our two-cents on a speech he’s writing—there is always something to occupy my time, and Ben’s.

And yes, the scenery around me has changed and the pace of life has changed, but there’s one thing that hasn’t. Ben. He’s the constant that’s anchored me the past few weeks during the transition and he’ll probably be my rock for the rest of my life.

I’m determined to run headlong into this strange way of living and prove to everyone in the royal circles of Europe that I’m back, and I’m not scared of who I am anymore. I’ll go to the charity events, I’ll make speeches and write letters and appear at however many galas it takes for them to take me seriously. 

I am the Crown Princess of Vladesvya, Chirnova and the Baltiysk Isles, and it’s time that I start acting like it.

@HRHPrincessAnna: #Happy :)

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FIRST OF ALL I AM SO SO SO SO SOOOO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO POST I REALLY AM. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy this last chapter because, guess what?! Book Two is officially completed! :) I would love to hear all of your thoughts about it.

I’ll be posting the first chapter of the third book by the end of October. It will be titled “Summer Princess” and will cover Anna and Ben’s story from late June into the end of August. It’ll feature things like their appearance in the military parade, their state visits to foreign countries and their time at the olympics as the royal ambassadors. 

I just want to take a moment to thank EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU for sticking by my story and commenting, voting and just reading it in the first place! I couldn’t do this without your encouragement! I hope you’ll stick around to read my third book in the series.

(Side note: I’m in the process of editing and publishing my first book on Nook as a NookBook. That version, when it comes out, will have lots of extra content in the chapters and will be downloadable on your Nook app on tablets, cell phones etc. So I hope that when I broadcast the announcement once it finally happens that some of you will buy it! It’ll only be around $3.99 or so, and the money will go towards mostly college expenses.)

See you in the next book! <3

- Nicki