life doing what was expected of me out of respect and love for you, my family and our country,” Jules added.
But she knew a lifetime of pleasing others and doing good works didn’t matter. Not in this patriarchal society where daughters, whether royal or commoner, were bartered like chattel. If Jules didn’t marry and put at least one of her children on a throne somewhere, she would be considered a total failure. The obligation and pressure dragged Jules down like a steel anchor.
Her father narrowed his eyes. “I concede you’re not to blame for the three matches ending. You’ve always been a good girl and obeyed my orders.”
His words made her sound like a favored pet, not the beloved daughter he and her mother had spent ten years trying to conceive. Jules wasn’t surprised. Women were treated no differently than lapdogs in Aliestle.
Of course, she’d done nothing to dispel the image. She was as guilty as her father and the Council of Elders for allowing the stereotyping and treatment of women to continue. As a child, she’d learned Aliestle didn’t want her to be as independent and outspoken as her mother had been. They wanted Jules to be exactly what she was—a dutiful princess who didn’t rock the boat. But she hoped to change that once she married and lived outside of Aliestle. She would then be free to help her brother Brandt, the crown prince, so he could modernize their country and improve women’s rights when he became king.
Her father eyed her speculatively. “I suppose it would be premature to marry you off to the heir of an Elder.”
A protest formed in the back of her throat, but Jules pressed her lips together to keep from speaking out. She’d said more than she intended. She had to maintain a cool and calm image even if her insides trembled.
Marrying a royal from Aliestle would keep her stuck in this repressive country forever. Her children, most especially daughters, would face the same obstacles she faced now.
Jules fought a rising panic. “Please, Father, give me another chance. The next match will be successful. I’ll do whatever it takes to marry.”
He raised a brow. “Such enthusiasm.”
More like desperation. She forced the corners of her mouth into a practiced smile. “Well, I’m twenty-eight, father. My biological clock is ticking.”
“Ah, grandchildren.” He beamed, as if another rare natural resource had been discovered in the mountains of Aliestle. “They are the only thing missing in my life. I shall secure you a fourth match right away. Given your track record, I had a backup candidate in mind when you left for Vernonia.”
A backup? His lack of confidence stabbed at her heart.
“All I need to do is negotiate the marriage contract,” he continued.
That would take about five minutes given her dowry.
“Who am I to marry, Father?” Jules asked, as if she wanted to know the person joining them for dinner, not the man she would spend the rest of her life with in a loveless marriage negotiated for the benefit of two countries. But anyone would be better than marrying an Aliestlian.
“Crown Prince Enrique of La Isla de la Aurora.”
“The Island of the Dawn,” she translated.
“It’s a small island in the Mediterranean off the coast of Spain ruled by King Dario.”
Memories of San Montico, another island in the Mediterranean where Crown Prince Richard de Thierry ruled, surfaced. All citizens had equal rights. Arranged marriages were rare though the country had a few old-fashioned customs. She hadn’t been allowed to sail there, but the water and wind had been perfect.
Longing stirred deep inside Jules.
Sailing was her inheritance from her mother and the one place she felt connected to the woman she didn’t remember. It was the only thing Jules did for herself. No matter what life handed out, no matter what tradition she was forced to abide by, she could escape her fate for a few hours when she was on the water.
But only on lakes and rivers.
After Jules learned to sail on the Black Sea while visiting her maternal grandparents, her father had forbidden her to sail on the ocean out of fear she would suffer the same fate as her mother. Two decades later, he still treated Jules like a little girl. Perhaps now he would finally see her as an adult, even though she was female, and change his mind about the restrictions.
“Am I allowed to sail when I’m on the island?” she asked.
“Sailing on the sea is forbidden during your engagement.”
Hope blossomed at his words. He’d never left her an opening before. “After I’m married …?”
“Your husband can decide the fate of your … hobby.”
Not hobby. Passion.
When she was on a boat, only the moment mattered. The wind against her face. The salt in the air. The tiller or a sheet in her hand. She could forget she was Her Royal Highness Princess Julianna and be Jules. Nothing but sailing had ever made her feel so … free.
If La Isla de la Aurora were a progressive island like San Montico, she would have freedom, choice and be allowed to sail on the ocean. Her heart swelled with anticipation. That would be enough to make up for not marrying for love.
“Understand, Julianna, this is your final match outside of Aliestle,” he said firmly. “If Prince Enrique decides he doesn’t want to marry you, you’ll marry one of the Elder’s heirs upon your return home.”
A shiver shot down her spine. “I understand, Father.”
“You may want to push for a short engagement,” he added.
A very short one.
Jules couldn’t afford to have Prince Enrique change his mind about marrying her. She had to convince him she was the only woman for him. The perfect princess for him. And maybe she would find the love she dreamed about on the island. Her parents had fallen in love through an arranged marriage. It could happen to her, too.
She’d avoided thinking about tomorrow. Now she looked forward to the future. “When do I leave for the island, sir?”
“If I complete negotiations with King Dario and Prince Enrique tonight, you may leave tomorrow.” Alaric said. “Your brother Brandt, a maid and a bodyguard will accompany you.”
This was Jules’s last chance for a life of freedom. Not only for herself, but her children and her country. She couldn’t make any mistakes. “I’ll be ready to depart in the morning, Father.”
Lying in bed, Alejandro Cierzo de Amanecer heard a noise outside his room at the beachfront villa. The stray kitten he’d found at the boatyard must want something. He opened his eyes to see sunlight streaming in through the brand-new floor-to-ceiling windows. Most likely breakfast.
The bedroom door burst wide-open. Heavy boots sounded against the recently replaced terra-cotta tile floor.
Not again.
Alejandro grimaced, but didn’t move. He knew the routine.
A
