The Prince Falls First

Chapter 1

one

GENEVIEVE

“Gennie!”

Genevieve sighed and continued to apply her makeup, not responding to the yell.

A few seconds later, the door to her room burst open and her youngest sister, Henrietta, burst in, her waist length, chemically straightened dark blonde hair a flurry around her. Gen glanced at her via the mirror; Henrietta’s face was seething.

Henrietta was always mad, especially at Gen.

“I was supposed to go to the next ball. It was my turn!”

Gen simply continued with her mascara. “Talk to our mother about it, it was her decision.”

“It’s your fault! You convinced her somehow.”

To Henrietta, everything was Gen’s fault.

It was Gen’s fault they were poor and trying to keep up appearances, which meant only one new dress and one person attending each royal ball or party.

It was Gen’s fault their father had died of a heart attack far too young.

It was Gen’s fault their mother didn’t want to work to bring in funds, but chose to sell artwork and antiques around the house instead.

It was Gen’s fault it was raining today.

It was Gen’s fault the milk ran out.

And on and on and on.

The worst thing wasn’t being blamed for everything that went wrong in the family, it was that no one stood up for her.

Her mother saw her as a tool to get a rich husband (riches she was then expected to somehow hand over to her mother), Henrietta took after their mother and hated Gen too.

Diana, the middle sister, was more sensible, but it was Gen’s job to protect her from their mother’s tirades right now.

Maybe when she was a little older, she’d have her as an ally, but right now she was all alone, figuratively if not literally.

“Ugh, I hate you!” Henrietta whirled, her hair flying once again, then slammed the door shut. If only she had a lock that worked, she wouldn’t have to deal with this nonsense as much.

But, with the house falling apart as it was, a lock for her room was very low on her mother’s priority list.

She put down the mascara and gave herself a critical eye.

She was in her twenties and beautiful. She begrudgingly admitted that some of these looks came from her mother—she and her sisters shared the same dark blond hair, nipped in waists, and breasts that were just large enough to be annoying (at least hers were annoying to her).

She’d probably get more curves after she had some kids, but those required a husband, which she was determined to get this year.

If she married, at least she’d be out of this house.

But she wouldn’t settle for merely anyone.

No, she was going to marry someone who would be kind to her.

That was it. That was her only requirement.

Tall, short, rich, poor, she didn’t care.

She didn’t mind working and had a degree she could use if she needed to.

Diana was also off to college this year, on a full scholarship too, so she would be safe from her mother’s clutches for a few years, at least.

Gen had only one goal this year: get out of this house, for good. Whether that was as a bride, or an entry-level employee, she’d see, but things were changing this year for her.

After checking the time, she got up, taking care with her long dress—a silver, backless, halter dress that featured a pleated skirt and glittering bodice, paired with a Vallerian purple purse and shoes—and headed out.

She double-checked her purse had everything she needed, then adjusted her long earrings as she carefully stepped down the stairs in her heels—she was on the shorter side so nearly always wore them—and tucked an errant strand of hair into her updo.

She’d kept her hair up to show off her back, but she wondered if it was too risqué for a royal ball.

She could always arrange her long hair down instead in a pinch.

She exited the house without saying a farewell to anyone, especially her mother, who would’ve scrutinized every inch of her body and found her lacking.

Instead she walked down their long drive to the gate, opened it, walked through, closed it, and then walked to the car waiting in front of the neighbor’s house.

She got into the passenger seat and gave her friend Samira a broad smile.

“You look amazing, Gen!”

They kissed each other on each cheek, a traditional Vallerian greeting. “So do you! I love that dress.”

Sam was wearing a halter dress similar to hers but in a deep, rich pink. Where the halter in Gen’s dress covered her cleavage and looped around her neck with a thick band, Sam’s halter featured a great deal of cleavage. Against her brown skin and long, sleek black hair, she was sure to stand out.

Sam pulled out after she buckled her seat belt and started driving. “I was a little surprised you were coming. Isn’t it what’s-her-face’s turn?”

Gen chuckled. As her best friend, Sam knew all about the facade her mother put on to fool others.

“Yes, but my mother pushed me to go. All of the princes, including Prince Gabriel, are going to be there and she thinks I’ll ‘catch their eye’ or some bullshit.

Thankfully the invitation only allowed for one person from our home to attend or I’d be attending with her, which would be even worse. ”

Sam grimaced. “I mean they are handsome, especially Gabriel, but he’s a total Casanova. He is not going to pick a lowly commoner such as ourselves.”

“Very true.” The eldest prince was known for playing, and she wasn’t interested in games, even if he was tall, dark-haired, and too handsome for his own good.

“Who are you setting your sights on tonight?” Sam loved dating but had no desire to marry and wanted to pursue acting, though her parents were trying to arrange a marriage with someone.

“I think Cary.”

“You cannot be serious! He was such an asshole at school.”

“I know but he’s better than the other options, and he usually isn’t racist.”

“That’s a very low bar.”

Sam shrugged. “Story of my life. Besides, I’m just looking for a man to take me out for a nice meal, not marry him.” She shuddered.

Gen giggled. Sam said the same thing every time marriage came up, for her or Gen.

“Who are going for?”

Gen sighed. “Not sure, but I want to find someone. I need to get the fuck out of that house and marriage is the easiest way. I’ll see who takes my bait.” Gen gestured to her long dress.

“They’d be crazy not to. I bet you even catch a prince’s eye tonight.”

They both burst out laughing. The idea that a prince—any prince, much less Valleria’s crown prince and future king—would be interested in either of them was just too funny.

Gen adjusted in her seat. “Well, let’s agree to have fun at any rate. You know the food will be good tonight at least.”

“Here’s hoping. 99% of the reason I go to these things is for the free food.”

“What’s the other 1%?”

“Spending time with you, of course!”

Gen smiled. “I’m glad I rank so highly.”

Sam winked, then took the exit that would lead them towards the palace.

GAbrIEL

“Help me, Gabriel.”

His father gestured to the sash that hung across his torso, which had become slightly askew. Gabriel nodded and began adjusting it, and the medal pinning it in place.

His father cleared his throat. “I know you’d prefer not to discuss it, but you need to find a bride, and this ball is as good a place as any.”

Gabriel sighed internally instead of responding to his father, Charles, who also happened to be the King of Valleria. Being a prince and next in line to the throne meant he kept a poker face nearly all the time, but especially in public.

He finished helping his father and stepped back. “We can discuss it later, Father. I’d rather your scolding of me not be overheard.”

His father huffed a laugh, knowing it was unlikely, as they resumed their walk towards the ballroom.

Their own Royal Protection Service agents were nearby, and the palace hallway they were walking down was deserted.

Though if any staff appeared, they had all signed confidentiality agreements.

Though they could be bought, he supposed, he trusted in their palace staff.

After all, none of them had leaked his activities over the years to the press, or even to his father. At least, not yet.

“I only mention it because many of the leaders at the security conference I recently attended mentioned their daughters of eligible age, and multiple times at that. We may be a smaller country than most—in size and political capital—but that doesn’t mean those men don’t want to be related to royalty. ”

More people wanting to use his status for their own gain.

Nothing new. He brushed a hand over his own sash, then tucked a lock of his inky black hair in place, hair he’d inherited from his father.

In truth, he resembled his father too much at times, except for the mustache he sported which his father hated. “How many have approached you then?”

“At least three.”

“Should I just lead their daughters on for a while for political gain then? I’m assuming that’s what you want.”

His father pursed his lips. “Must you be so crass?”

“I’m merely being honest, Father. Most of the women who throw themselves at me want a prince in their bed and a ‘princess’ in front of their name. They could care less about me. And I have no desire to spend the rest of my life with someone like that.”

“The alliances we could make—”

“We’ll make them without a marriage. This is the 1970s. Hardly any of our fellow European royals are interested in inter-marrying, and we’re basically all related in one way or another after centuries of it anyway.”

“So? Do you not want to marry then? Would you prefer Ferdinand and his child, whenever he has one, take the throne?”

“You and Mother always jump to that conclusion. I have standards and, yes, if I don’t find a woman who meets them, then I don’t intend to marry.

I’d rather be happy alone than miserable with someone else.

I would have thought you of all people would understand that.

” His parents had a marriage of love; was it so wrong for him to want the same?

His father frowned slightly. “I do understand. However, these are turbulent times, my son, and many are struggling. Your wedding would benefit us in many respects, and give hope to the people. They shouldn’t need to worry about the future of the monarchy on top of everything else.”

“If I won’t marry to appease you and Mother, I certainly won’t marry to appease the public.

This is a personal decision. Besides, we’re already grappling with a potential recession on the horizon.

I doubt the people will thank you for throwing an expensive state-funded wedding in the middle of that.

Haven’t you heard the comments about this ball alone?

” He thought of the large, elegant, and luxurious ballroom and furnishings.

“People are already upset about the cost of this. A wedding would be much worse.”

“This is a charity ball. Once we announce the amount raised, they’ll stop quibbling about it. The same would be true of the wedding. It would lift their spirits to know that the country’s future is secure, even if their immediate future is in flux.”

“I don’t agree with that, but let’s set that aside. I’d rather keep our arguing to a minimum at the moment. We still have an excruciatingly long night to get through.”

“The last time I was in England, I met the daughter of—”

“Please stop. I’m sure she was lovely, but I doubt she’d tempt me, to paraphrase a famous line from a novel. Besides, I’d rather marry a Vallerian.”

“Oh? Hmm.” His father’s eyes took on a faraway look he had seen a thousand times before.

Gabriel shook his head. “Stop right there. I can see you scheming something.”

“There are several lovely ladies that are part of Vallerian high society, though you’d need to be careful. Some of their families are supportive of the monarchy on the surface, but snakes underneath.”

“I’m well aware, trust me.”

“Well, you’ll have a chance to meet several women at the ball tonight and see if any spark your eye.”

“Am I in the middle of a fairy tale all of a sudden? Should I look for a woman wearing a very unrealistic glass slipper?”

“Of course not. I’m merely asking you to try, not marry the first one you meet. I agree that you should be a little more selective—they will be the future queen, after all—but don’t focus solely on their negatives or you will end up alone.

“A man alone can be happy, but a king alone cannot. You will need someone you can trust by your side when that time comes.”

His father nodded once, then walked ahead towards his chief of staff, who was directing staff near the ballroom.

As he walked away, Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder at his father’s last statements.

He hadn’t thought of it like that before, odd though it may seem.

He always thought of himself as simply a ‘man’.

Being a prince was his job, his duty…he didn’t mind it, and often even liked it, but ‘Prince’ Gabriel and Gabriel ‘the Man’ were two different people to him.

He didn’t like thinking of the day he’d become King Gabriel.

Logically, he knew it was coming, but it would be yet another identity to grapple with.

There was a big difference between being a prince and being a king and, though he hated to admit it, his father was right.

He would need—and even wanted—someone to trust by his side.

Trust was a tricky thing in a relationship, made even more complicated when you added a royal family and royal protocol and royal trappings to the mix.

He needed someone who wanted Gabriel the Man, but wouldn’t mind Gabriel the Prince (or King). Maybe he would keep his eyes open at the ball for someone after all.