One princess searching for her prince charming.
Twelve princes, dukes, elves, and a commoner, competing for the princess’s heart.
One assassin among the bachelors, plotting to kill the princess and bring the empire to its knees.
Warning: this fantasy romance contains dangerously hot princes, sexy elves, and a heart-throbbing peasant. Read at your own risk!
This slow-burn, clean romance is Zoiy Galloay's debut novel.
One princess searching for her prince charming.
Twelve princes, dukes, elves, and a commoner, competing for the princess’s heart.
One assassin among the bachelors, plotting to kill the princess and bring the empire to its knees.
Warning: this fantasy romance contains dangerously hot princes, sexy elves, and a heart-throbbing peasant. Read at your own risk!
This slow-burn, clean romance is Zoiy Galloay's debut novel.
It cannot be denied that I was fortunate to have this opportunity. Where many would complain about the lack of freedom given in marriage, I gratefully acknowledged that there were at least twelve boys to choose from.
For me, marriage was a duty, not a right. It was an obligation, not a dalliance. My parents, the empress and emperor of Velazia, were examples of this. They ate together, they sat together during public events, but when nighttime came, they went to opposite sections of the palace and slept alone, only to repeat this routine the next day.
This was expected of me.
Yet… who wouldn’t be curious about love at seventeen?
My mind lifted into the clouds, daydreaming of the feeling of being in love and being loved, something that caused my heart to press against my chest and beat faster. When I came out of the daydream, I found myself staring intently at the three-layered glass chandelier hanging from my bedroom ceiling.
Quickly, I straightened my neck and brought my attention to the servants who were tightening my stays, polishing my shoes, and preparing to put my skirt on, hoping nobody saw me ogling at the ceiling.
I cleared my throat.
Really, all I knew of love was from watching dramas at the Orb Theater in town; tragedies really. Somehow, two people would develop feelings for each other and were met with impossible odds that kept them apart—yet how these feelings developed between two people was yet a mystery to me. Interestingly enough, these lovers were either enemies from different kingdoms or people of different social classes who fell in love, and almost every time, they both ended up dying in the end. Yet part of me always rooted for them to end up together, happily ever after, despite the fact that they unceremoniously defied social protocol.
Truly, love made no sense.
It seemed irrational.
Nonetheless, I would perform my duty to the empire and follow in my parents’ footsteps by marrying a boy with the perfect image and profile.
I tried to end my thoughts at that, yet… I couldn’t escape from the lingering curiosity in the back of my mind: what if I fell in love in the next four weeks?
The last servant finished plucking off a single black hair of mine that fell on my sleeve. After everything was perfect, they asked if there was anything else for them to do, but I wished to be alone with my thoughts before the ceremony, where I was about to meet my future husband. They curtsied and left my room.
My nerves shook enough to make my legs feel weak and I had to get the jittery feelings out before presenting myself to the world.
As the crown princess destined to inherit the empire, perfection wasn’t an option for me—it was a requirement. The entire empire was watching, and if I made a mistake, criticisms were often harsh. Among many things I had to be: I had to keep a thin figure, have grace in my every movement, and speak with beauty, power, and sophistication. I had to be studious, knowledgeable in modern literature and military tactics, and up-to-date in all political affairs. I spoke five languages fluently in the native accents. I sang, danced, and played the harp. I fit the role of next ruling empress to the “T.” And because I played the part perfectly, my new husband had to fit the role as well. My demands were high. Or rather, my mother’s demands were high. But I wanted to please her, so I complied with her demands. Thus, my husband must be supportive, faithful, generate positive press, and give me inspiration and strength during my reign. He must be sagacious, and know five languages, and be current in political affairs, and… and… and well, he must be everything a royal should be! Most importantly, he must provide me with several heirs to the throne.
All this, I felt would be an obvious trait to find in a partner.
For the hundredth time, I individually scanned through each of the twelve drawings of the participants in the Royal Matchmaking Competition, called the RMC, and I imagined what each boy was like in person.
Then I took a few deep breaths and let the jitters drain out of my legs and onto the floor.
The RMC was a month-long competition where the most eligible princes, dukes, and noble members from each of the seven cities within the empire—plus one peasant—competed for a chance to marry the next empress or emperor of the Velazian Empire; which was me.
The city of Velazia—now called “the capital” of the empire—was ruled by a rather ambitious ruler 200 years ago (my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, Emperor Alexander). He conquered several surrounding cities, establishing our Empire’s hold on the region. But our control was always shaky and the empire almost fell apart. The royal families from the conquered cities either wanted more say in the government or to secede from the empire (by force, if necessary). This was exacerbated by an internal peasant revolt from rising taxes for the war efforts. To appease everyone at once, a treaty was made between the seven cities to hold the RMC. And therefore, it gave each of these demagogues a hand at ruling. Including the peasants.
As the Crown Princess, I had a royal duty to satisfy these royal guests now arriving at the palace.
This was my coming-out ceremony. A chance to prove myself to my mother, to other nobles, to my people, and to the world.
After reading the profiles of my twelve suitors over the last month, I picked out the obvious forerunners. Half the contestants were already eliminated from my personal list of potential husbands. Although I was curious…
Could I really experience love with one of these boys still on my list?
Would a boy who I fell in love with be equally capable of ruling as the emperor?
How do two people fall in love?
Is it by choice or fate?
My fingers caressed the soft paper of the miniature sketches of each bachelor. The two elves, Zazan and Qinrel, attracted my attention the most, for their skin glowed, their hair glimmered, and they were awfully handsome! Perhaps it was the artist’s rendition, except rumors stated that elves (royal elves in particular) were irresistibly attractive to humans and thus it could be real. In any case, I was eager to meet them. It was always a fantasy of mine to marry an elf.
Love or not, I could marry someone attractive to look at from across the dinner table.
With a smirk, I put their portraits down and took up another.
Each bachelor was chosen by their own people to enter the competition, but the contestants had to match a certain profile. They must be of a noble bloodline, must be of a certain age range, plus they must be willing to abdicate the seat of power in their own city if the opportunity arose. Although Velazia held the seat of ultimate power in the empire, each city had a ruling royal family to oversee the operations of the government. As part of the RMC agreement, they were allowed to retain the titles of king or queen. They refused to sign the RMC treaty without this. So it was done.
There were seven noble contestants within the seven cities of the Velazian Empire, plus one commoner, which made up eight contestants. However, many people didn’t like my family, both internally and abroad. My mother ruled with an iron fist and showed little mercy. This, combined with her policies—which were very profitable, so I didn’t know why others complained—made anyone who couldn’t benefit from her regulations angry. Marrying me, after all, meant that my bridegroom would rule as the next emperor, so the RMC was useful in satisfying our conquered and unconquered cities. In terms of foreign relations, we were on bad terms with the dwarf kingdom after my mother humiliated the dwarf prince during her RMC. Plus, Payonna Queendom, in the south, didn’t like our influence within the realm (some rumors claimed they were planning to conquer some of our weaker cities to gain control of our resources). So the four neighboring foreign queendoms and kingdoms were invited to the RMC in order to “satisfy their thirst for power,” and keep positive relations with them. This made up twelve contestants in total.
I looked over the commoner’s profile. His name was Kipp and he won the opportunity in a contest held by the crown, for we couldn’t just allow any peasant to enter the palace. Unicorn forbid! He had to have public speaking abilities, honor and dignity, and be attractive. Allowing him to join the RMC was a show of compassion toward the people that the aristocracy was listening, but in reality, the aristocrats didn’t take him as a serious competitor. Some saw his admittance as a hoax.
Kipp’s smile was rather cheesy as he showed off his big straight pearly white teeth. People didn’t usually smile in portraits and they didn’t usually have good teeth. That was probably why he was chosen. Nonetheless, the young peasant was likely to lack knowledge in any foreign or political affairs, and thus already off my list.
A hoax, indeed, it was.
Out of the contestants, I had only met one before—my distant cousin Clayton, the Duke of Pinecrest. He was chosen as Velazia’s contestant. Pinecrest was a province on the western outskirts of the capital bordering a lush forest. But I confidently told myself I’d never marry him because of our close relations.
Or would I?
It was three years since I last saw him at a royal dinner where my mother publicly humiliated me for not being aggressive enough in my approach to the gremlin gangs. At the dinner, I didn’t think much of Clayton. Now I wondered, was he filled out? Handsome? More mature? Less irritating?
Still, it was awkward. We were related. And I wanted to mend problems with other cities through this marriage.
Everyone at that dinner party would be here during the RMC. It was a chance to redeem myself. Yet, just thinking of seeing them made me want to crawl into a tiny hole, never to emerge again.
One of the most interesting contestant was the dwarf named Hedgewood. Being 5′4″—only an inch shorter than me—he was rather tall for his species. He wore glasses. Most unusual. And was clean shaven. Don’t they usually have beards? It was a general bias that all dwarves had thick beards and a stocky physique, reaching a maximum height of 5′, and they loved to work in mines. He did not fit that stereotype. Not at all.
Meeting him will be interesting.
Yet the dwarf was already off my list. After all, I didn’t really need the alliance of the distant dwarf kingdom. Payonna was more important. But I’d allow the dwarf to attend the competition, regardless; a show of hospitality.
Prince Edgar was the most promising out of all the contestants. He had an impressive profile and fit my list of requirements of a husband perfectly! He was a high-ranking prince, wealthy, owned several mines, he looked regal in his velvet canions, and was rumored to have an astute understanding of the world and to be agreeable. I eagerly anticipated meeting him the most. The list of competitors went as follows:
12 Royal Matchmaking Competition Candidates
Nobles of the Foreign Realms
1. Zazan, Prince of Eldoren
2. Abdulla, Prince of Payonna
3. Octavio, Prince of Pixieland
4. Hedgewood, Prince of Adonis Peak
Nobles of the Velazian Empire
5. Edgar, Prince of Baylor
6. Alejandro, Prince of Ogarz
7. Qinrel, Prince of Nololay
8. Lanselos, Duke of Moonstone City
9. Clayton, Duke of Pinecrest, Velazia
10. Zaccaria, Baron of Tildon
11. McKinley, Knight of Centaurus City
Winner of the Velazian Commoner Competition
12. Kipp, Actor
Guests were already arriving, and the opening ceremony would begin within the hour. To me, this would be a quick and easy process. I would impress and inspire the guests with my grace and intelligence, find the perfect man within a few days, and make my parents proud of me with my good decision; then my rule would be the golden age of the empire.
I neatly arranged all portraits into a pile and set it on my cherry-colored desk, which matched my large bedposts, vanity, and various chairs around the room. Then I headed to the opening ceremony.
Princess Qloey is of age, and must choose her husband. The man who will rule beside her as Emperor. But with the Empire in a fragile state, she has to choose from a pre-approved list of twelve eligible bachelors from different regions. Two Elven Princes, a Dwarven Prince, a selection of human Princes from neighbouring Kingdoms as well as an assortment of other royal titles. There's a chivalrous knight, and an illiterate, but talented actor thrown into the mix too. All of them taking part in the Royal Matchmaking Competition; the winner becoming Qloey's husband and future Emperor. But, while Qloey is enjoying the attentions of the handsome candidates and learning all she can of their lands and customs, she's also in grave danger from one of them. One of them is aiming to kill her. Will she pick the perfect husband, or will she fall for the assassins charms?
Qloey is very much the 'perfect' leading lady in the trope of being a princess. She's naïve about the world around her, having never really left the huge palace. She is very much under the thumb of her domineering mother, the current Empress. Her mother is a cruel woman, prone to divisive prejudices and greed - and as a result, see's Qloey's innate compassion as a weakness. But Qloey, in true heroine fashion, aims to be better than her mother; pushing her patience to her limits when she introduces new protocols and attempts to quash her mothers harsh laws. It makes Qloey a little hard to swallow; yes, it's good to see her grow and learn from her own previous ignorance - but her incessant need to please everyone is a little too sweet. As for Qloey's mother; I like a wicked female as much as the next person. But she's almost too nasty. There's very little redeeming factors about her - always quick to criticise her daughter in public and private. She's truly a monstrous figure and a villain that Galloay should be proud of. However, sometimes a softer side is desirable in a villain; make us question their motives when they show they have some sort of redemption possible. But that's simply a personal preference.
In all, Galloay has created a vivid fairytale world, with bright and vivacious characters.
S. A.