Hey Angels! I have a new series coming out and I wanted to show you what it looked like with the first chapter! Enjoy
As I go for my morning ride with Becket, my horse, I can’t help but admire the beauty of the sunrise across the horizon, illuminating the lush wide planes of our ranch. I grew up to this breathtaking scenery, but it never gets old. This ranch is my home.
Although my mom and I were not originally from the United States, I love it here. We moved here when I was still a baby. Suffice to say, I have no recollection of where I came from.
I’ve had my curiosities. I mean, who doesn’t want to know about their roots? But Mom, she never talks about home, or why we left. I’ve tried to pry answers from her, but her lips are sealed tighter than a bull’s ass on-the-fly season.
I eventually gave up and settled for not knowing anything about my home country. It helps that we’ve made a life for ourselves in the United States. As soon as we landed in the United States, Mom bought a piece of property just outside of town and turned it into the successful horse ranch it is today.
I, myself, don’t even look foreign. I’d like to think that with my copper-brown hair and green eyes, I look just like any other red-blooded American. Although, sometimes, my accent, the same accent of my mother’s, slips out.
An accent of European royalty.
I love my mom despite all the secrecy that surrounds her. She never dated or talked to any men, always being a full-time mother to me. She attends different events, such as Bingo Night, with her female friends from town, which I’m glad for.
She could use the break and social interaction. But I can tell that even with her friends, she never once shared about her past.
I get back to the ranch house, checking for mail in our mailbox. To my surprise, there’s a formal-looking letter inside, and it’s addressed to my mom. I stare at it curiously, itching to just open the damn thing myself, but that won’t be very gentlemanly of me.
“Ma! I’m back!” I call.
She comes out from the kitchen with the usual warm smile on her face.
“I’ve made us some pancakes,” she says in her accent.
I nod, placing a kiss on her cheek.
“Thanks, Mom. Oh, by the way, you’ve got mail,” I tell her, handing over the envelope that has piqued my interest.
Her face pales at the sight of the letter.
“I need to sit down,” she says, walking over to the couch.
She opens the letter, glancing through whatever’s written on it, and her face gets even paler.
“Mom, are you okay?” I ask worriedly.
“Alexander, my son. Would you be a dear and fetch me some water?” she asks.
“Anything you need, Ma,” I say, handing her a glass of water.
“Oh, dear,” she keeps repeating as though she’s in some kind of trance.
“Ma! What’s wrong?” I say, grabbing on gently to her shoulders to literally shake her back to her senses.
She snaps out of it, sighing deeply.
“You’ll find out later, son. Just give me a moment to wrap my head around this,” she says, getting up to go to the kitchen.
“What? I get that you can be secretive, but you’re making me worry, Ma.” I tell her, following her to the kitchen.
“Let’s at least have some breakfast, Alexander. I’ll tell you everything you need to know later,” she says, gesturing for me to take the seat opposite from her.
We eat together in silence. Mom has that faraway look on her face again, and it’s killing me not knowing what’s making her that way.
The sound of our doorbell breaks the silence. Mom stands immediately and walks towards the front door in a hurry.
Who could that be? I wonder.
I follow my mom and notice that she’s talking to two men in black suits.
Are we in debt?! I worry.
I walk closer to the two men, not letting my nervousness show.
“Anything I can do for you, gentlemen?” I ask.
They look at me appraisingly, and it creeps me out. I glance over to my mother, who has a look of quiet resignation on her face.
She opens the door wider and invites the two strangers to come in.
My mouth hangs open at how easily my mom can trust these two strangers.
“Alexander, please sit. We have a lot to talk about,” she says, motioning for me to sit down beside her.
“Ma! You can be honest with me. Are we in debt?!” I ask, feeling frantic.
She chuckles, shaking her head.
“We aren’t in debt, Son. Now please, sit,” she says.
I plop myself down on the couch right beside her; the two men sit in front of us.
“Our mother country is a place called Gransylvia,” she starts.
I feel this burst of excitement. Finally, after all these years of wondering, Mom’s opening up about our home country.
“My husband, your father, Nicholi, whom I married as part of an arrangement between our two families, was a very abusive man. He was a monster. I put up with him for years, but the moment I gave birth to you, I knew that I couldn’t let you grow up with that monster as your father.
So, one night, when Nicholi was asleep, I packed a few of our belongings and fled from Gransylvia with you in my arms,” she continues, tears streaming down her face.
I take hold of her hand and squeeze it gently, urging her to continue.
“It would be so much simpler if Nicholi was just an ordinary man, but he was not. He was the son of the king of Gransylvia. He was the prince that was first in line for the throne, my son,” she goes on.
My father was a prince?! My mind shouts. What in the fucking hell is happening? I grew up as a cowboy, and now I find out that my father’s a prince. Wait, doesn’t that make me a prince too?
“These two are your father’s advisors, Volkov, and Ischek,” she says, gesturing towards the men in black.
“When your mother left with you, your father ascended to the throne. Now that he’s dead, the throne is vacant. You are next in line, Alexander. We implore you to take your rightful place among your people. Your cousin, Stephan, who is next in line if you choose to abdicate your rights to the throne, is an evil man. He will make the people of Gransylvia suffer,” one of the men, who I believe is Volkov, explains.
“And the only way for you to claim your rightful place is for you to be married,” the other one, Ischek, continues.
“What?!” I exclaim. I don’t even have a girlfriend. Being king is a big thing, but it’s something that I’m willing to handle, if only for the sake of my people. But a wife?! Where am I supposed to get a wife?!
“Ma, how am I supposed to find a wife?!” I voice out.
She looks thoughtful for a minute before a mischievous smile graces her features. “What about Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth. She’s my childhood best friend.
“That isn’t going to work, Ma. We’re just friends,” I say.
“You can always just dissolve the marriage after a few years. You can even get married right away since you two already know each other,” Ma says.
“Please, your highness. It is of the utmost importance that Stephan does not become king,” Volkov pleads.
I sigh deeply, deciding to give Elizabeth a call, asking her to come over.
I can’t believe I let myself get talked into this.