The Father and Daughter Who Insist on Being Ambitious
"That money from the manor is partly mine," Cassidy said, planting her hands on her hips. "So why can't I touch it?"
The question set off alarm bells in her head.
"Dad, are you seeing someone?" she demanded.
Before he could answer, she barreled on.
"Look, I don't care how many kids you have on the side. I'm the one who's going to inherit Ashworth Manor, and I will absolutely not let anyone else get a piece of it. So you can just forget about it!"
Her father stared at her, completely stunned. "You're already planning how to carve up my estate?"
Cassidy nodded, not even a little ashamed. "Well, it's all gonna be mine eventually."
"I'm still alive, you little brat!" he roared, his face turning red. Fuming, he grabbed a porcelain bowl from the table, ready to hurl it at the wall.
"My lord, no!" The steward, Clifford, rushed over and grabbed his arm. "That bowl... it's quite expensive."
The manor's expenses over the last two weeks had been astronomical; they couldn't afford any more damage from this father-daughter tornado.
The Prince looked down at the bowl in his hand, bewildered. "Are we really so broke we can't even afford a new bowl?"
Clifford just nodded, giving his master a look that was laced with blame.
The Prince never paid a lick of attention to the manor's businesses.
All he knew how to do was eat, drink, and carouse, and with no lady of the house to manage the books, things had gone south.
If the Empress Dowager and His Majesty hadn't been quietly propping them up, the manor would have gone bankrupt years ago.
And now they were stuck with the Princess, a spendthrift to rival her father.
The more Clifford thought about it, the more his shoulders slumped.
Seeing the grim look on his steward's face, the Prince felt his world start to crumble. "That rebellious daughter of mine... she didn't mortgage the manor, did she?"
"Not yet," Clifford said grimly. "But at the rate the Princess is spending, it's only a matter of time."
The Prince was floored. For a second, he couldn't decide if he was more furious at his daughter's shopping habits or more heartbroken that his family's fortune could just vanish. "But don't we still have a bunch of businesses?"
Clifford looked at him with the pained expression of a man being asked to recount a traumatic injury.
"My lord, have you forgotten? You gambled away all our profitable businesses to the Duke of Crestfall in a cockfight. Most of what's left is losing money. If the Empress Dowager and His Majesty hadn't been helping us, we would've been flat broke long ago."
Cassidy, who had been sneaking toward the door, sprinted back into the room. "Uncle Clifford, what did you just say?" she shrieked. "My dad gambled away my inheritance?"
Clifford immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. "Princess, this old servant didn't say a thing." Oh, no. He'd come in to make peace and had just poured gasoline on the fire.
Her father looked away, guilty. "What inheritance? It was my money."
Cassidy stared at him, her face a mask of betrayal.
"Dad, I am so disappointed in you. And you had the nerve to call *me* a spendthrift?"
She thought she'd been reborn into a life of endless money and status.
Who knew her deadbeat dad wasn't just lazy, but had actually gambled away the entire family fortune?
The Prince shot a glare at Clifford, then snapped back at his daughter, "You're the one with the spending problem! As bad as I am, at least I wasn't dumb enough to blow a fortune on a worthless brothel!"
"You're defending your gambling?" Furious, Cassidy launched herself onto her father's back, grabbing his ears and yanking.
"Get off of me!" he roared.
"No way!" she snarled, digging in her heels. "You're getting my inheritance back, or I'll fight you to the death!" She'd only gotten to enjoy the high life for two weeks, and now they were telling her the family was about to go broke? She might as well just die.
Her father thrashed around but couldn't shake her off. "Who do you think you're talking to?" he cursed. "I'm your father, you ungrateful brat! Clifford, get this demon off of me!"
But Clifford was already hiding outside the door and took off at a full sprint the moment he heard his name. He knew from experience that whenever this father and daughter fought, any attempt to intervene would end with him somehow being blamed for the family's spending habits.
Seeing that no help was coming, the Prince, who'd been mentally listing a hundred ways to punish his daughter, finally gave in. "Okay, okay, I promise! I'll win back the businesses we lost." He wanted to cry. In the span of a single argument, *he* had somehow become the manor's biggest problem.
Hearing that, Cassidy finally hopped off his back. She stood before him, shaking her head with a pained expression. "Dad, you have really let me down. At your age, you have responsibilities! You can't just be lazy all day. You need ambition. You need to work hard. You need to make money."
The Prince was speechless. "Ambitious like you? The manor would go bankrupt even faster."
"How can you say that?" Cassidy's eyes welled up.
"Do you want me to live without a mother *and* without any money? Other princesses have parents who plan for their future. I'm just a poor little thing with no dad to love me and no mom to take care of me. Soon I won't even be able to afford nice clothes,
and all the other princesses will make fun of me!"
She then dramatically flopped onto the floor and started wailing, wiping away fake tears.
"Oh, a poor little orphan, lost in the world! Born without a mother, my daddy's house is cold! I'm scared he'll find a new wife, a stepmom with kids of her own! My little brother gets the steak, I just get the soup! I look in my bowl, and my eyes fill with tears! Oh, Mama! My dear, sweet Mama!"
"Enough! Stop singing!" Her father rubbed his temples, a headache blooming. He had no idea where she'd learned that ridiculous song, but damn it if it wasn't starting to pull at his heartstrings. "Fine! I'll find a way to make money."
A wave of satisfaction washed over Cassidy. Her old man was finally showing some ambition. "Good," she said, scrambling up from the floor. "Starting tomorrow, we're both going to work hard and make some serious money. You take the West District, I'll take the East. We'll meet at the top."
With her grand declaration finished, she marched back to her rooms, filled with a newfound sense of purpose.
The Prince watched her go, a little creeped out by her sudden, manic energy.
"What's gotten into her?" he muttered. "Didn't she just tell His Majesty today that she didn't want a job? Now, not even a day later, she's acting possessed and wants to hustle?"
For any other daughter, this would be great news. But his daughter was... special.
Clifford, who had impeccable timing, reappeared and heard his master muttering.
"Perhaps the Princess has seen the light," he offered soothingly.
"Seeing how tight our finances are, she wants to help."
Even though he was pretty sure the Princess didn't have a single money-making bone in her body, there was nothing a servant could do when his young lady was determined to be ambitious.
The thought just made the Prince angry all over again.
He slammed his hand on the table. "Cassie's right! We have to make money!"
His eyes lit up with a dangerous fire. "That sneaky old bastard, the Duke of Crestfall... does he really think I can't beat him? Go! Find me the toughest, meanest, most powerful rooster you can. First thing tomorrow, set up a match with that old buzzard. We'll see him at The Cockpit!"
His voice boomed with confidence. "This time, I'll get my revenge and win back everything I lost!"
Clifford felt his knees go weak. "My lord, you're forgetting! His Majesty gave you an assignment. You have street patrol tomorrow." *Oh, good heavens,* he thought, *please get cockfighting out of your head. If you keep this up, the manor will be renamed Crestfall Manor by tomorrow night.*
"Don't you worry," the Prince declared, a fire burning in his eyes. "I will win it all back, with interest!"
Clifford tried again, desperate. "My lord, you have to be on duty. His Majesty will have people watching you."
"Then we'll do it after work." Before the steward could argue, the Prince turned and marched back to his rooms, just as fired up as his daughter had been.
Clifford was left standing there, utterly bewildered.
Where on earth did this father and daughter get all this confidence?
All he could do was pray it was just a phase. Maybe, just maybe, when they woke up tomorrow, they'd go back to being their usual lazy, do-nothing selves.