We are out of ideas and out of time.

Our stylist puts the finishing touches on my gown, sewing a few pearls down properly and securing a loose piece of lace. The light blue with lace overlay is not really doing it for me, but neither is being married to the most atrocious person I can think of, so it's fitting.

"I'm sorry," Erica says, hanging her head and playing with a piece of fabric at the edge of her bodice. "I really thought we got through to him."

"It was a longshot anyway," I sigh, forcing a smile in her direction. "And at least I'll have you and maybe Enzo around for a while to keep me company. I'll be the queen. Who even needs to spend time with the man they're married to, right?"

It's a good thing I never wanted to be an actress. A really good thing.

"Maybe we can convince father to delay things," Erica offers feebly.

"Oh, yes," I joke. "And maybe we can balance a camel on your head and teach it to do magic tricks."

"That would actually be pretty cool," she says, looking up and pretending to hold a large camel in her arms. "I'd be okay with that, actually."

We laugh, and for a second it feels like it always has. Just the two of us enjoying life and not worrying about our future. I'm thrown back to our childhood when Mother would play pirates and zookeeper and everything under the sun with us.

"Remember what Mom always used to say?" I ask out of nowhere, causing Erica to pull my hand in with hers and hug me as much as our small-car-sized skirts will allow.

"You are special because you're you, not because you were born where you were," she answers easily.

"And you'll do great things. No matter who you grow up to be," I finish.

I wonder sometimes if she really believed that. Or if she just meant it to be inspirational for two girls whose whole lives were so controlled by media requirements and bodyguards and personal butlers and nannies.

"Do you really think she believed we could make a difference, no matter what we grew up to be?" Erica muses. "Or do you think she was just setting us up for what was bound to happen if Father got his way and ran the country into the ground?"

"Erica!" I exclaim. "I've never heard you say anything so uncharitable towards our parents before."

"It has to be said," she says, looking at me through the mirror. "I don't regret it."

She pauses for a second before adding. "I like that we look like fire and ice."

I stare at our reflections in the mirror. Her delicate orange dress has a gold overlay because she's allowed to wear what she wants and I have to look 'accidentally bridal' for my 'unplanned engagement announcement'.

Cue barf. For real.

A knock at the door tells us everything we need to know. Antonio hasn't come and Santino has arrived.

"It's time, Your Highnesses," he calls through the door. He will wait to be allowed entry. He's never forgotten that rule since the day he walked in on Erica wearing nothing but her undergarments. He was beet red for a week.

"Maybe we could run," Erica offers. "I think Enzo knows some people who would hide us."

"Yes, running would be such a good idea. Giving Father the opportunity to announce my elopement is just so much better than the alternatives." I roll my eyes dramatically. "Plus, if I'm going to be married off, even if it is to that insufferable man, I'm going to be the one to announce it. It's my life. I'm going to take some control back."

"Wait. How could Father announce your elopement?" Erica asks. "You wouldn't be eloping. You'd be with me."

"You don't miss a thing, Erica." I catch myself laughing through sealed lips. "I'm sorry, but do you really think he wouldn't use my absence to make up a story. Any story that suits his needs, right?"

"No," she admits. "No, I know he'd spin it. Just like he's spun everything else in our lives. We are just a means to an end with him aren't we?"

"Too bad he's setting me up to be queen," I point out. "He's not going to be very happy he did that once I actually get there."

"Do you think he wants you to back down?" Erica asks.

"What do you mean?" Because, no, I'd never thought of that.

"I was talking to—"

"Enzo. of course."

"Right, and he said something that made me wonder. Do you think Father might be selecting the worst person he can find and driving all reasonable suitors away because he wants you to say no. He knows I don't want it, so if he sabotages you..."

"What does he get, though?" I ask. "I mean, it's not like they're going to let him keep being king. Are they?"

And then something Antonio said the other day about a gardening cousin in Berlin being next in line after him spins back into my head. "Who's next after us? If you and I are gone, who succeeds Father?"

"He's looking for someone he can control," she whispers. "Enzo was right. Father wants us to leave. And if we don't, he wants you to marry a husband he can influence."

"Good thing he underestimates us," I reassure her. "I'm not going to let that happen. This country deserves better. And I've never wanted to marry for love anyway. I'll get to live that vicariously through you and Enzo."

I nudge her and her whole face flushes red, but her smile lights up the whole palace. Maybe even the whole country.

She deserves it. She deserves to be happy. And this country deserves its queen.

It's time to put myself aside and step into my role. It's time to protect Erica from everything she shouldn't have to bear. And it's time to lean on the people I love.

"I can do this," I say out loud.

"You shouldn't have to," Erica says. But she doesn't get to finish her thought, because the door pushes open to reveal Santino again, wearing a 'sorry' smile.

"I know," I say. "We really have to go down."

A quick check of my watch tells me Antonio was supposed to be here a half hour ago if he agreed to our deal so we could talk terms and finalize everything before the announcement.

"We tried our best," I reassure Erica as much as myself. "We did what we could. And now we will do what we must.

I thread my arm through Erica's and hold my head up high. I am Princess Gemma of Tilcara. And no one can take that away from me.

Especially not my father.

~ * ~

As is customary, the party is in full swing by the time Erica and I arrive, and the herald stands beside the four guards positioned at the main door. My entrance has been heavily choreographed to the point where even the orchestra have a role.

I'm to walk accompanied, with Erica behind me. But the plans have never before included four guards at the door.

"Is it just me, or are there more guards than usual?" Erica asks, hand shaking in mine.

"It's normal at a ball," I reassure her, squeezing her hand, though I have to admit she is right. It does seem like a heavy security presence for a birthday ball.

"Your father is arriving any second," Santino whispers to us both. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I shall be here to escort you back to your rooms when you leave the ball."

"Thank you, Santino," I say with a smile, squaring my shoulders to stare at the door so I don't do Father the courtesy of looking at him when he arrives.

"Santino?" Erica questions. "How many years were you in the army before you accepted this role?"

When did Erica get so good at this game of intrigue and espionage and allies?

"Just over twenty-five years, your highness."

"You weren't supposed to tell me that," she smirks. "But thank you."

His footsteps disappear down the hallway. But no sooner has he left than two sets of footsteps approach from the left... and the right.

My eyes jump to the guards and Erica before I peer down the hallway to see Father approaching with Spencer.

Then who is...?

"Oh my God," Erica gasps before I get a clear look. "He came."

"Who's he?" I ask, peering around her very large up-do and right into the face of Prince Antonio. His plastered smile is fooling everyone but me and probably Erica.

"Are you alright?" I ask when he approaches with Enzo by his side.

"No," he says. "But neither are you. So I guess we have that in common."

I can't keep the disgust off my face. "I promise we'll get out of this as soon as we can."

"No," he says finally. "It's for our people. We'll do what they need. You know that as well as I do."

I do.

My father's footsteps approach with increasing speed and volume, so I turn to face the guards, thread my arm through Antonio's and instruct them to announce us, lining Erica and Enzo up behind me in a final act of defiance my father will have no say in.

"Open the doors," I say. "Let's begin the ball."

"Anabella Francesca Noemi Gemma," my father's commanding voice booms through the open hallway. "You will wait for me."

"I will not," I call out. "My finacé and I are ready to open the ball."

He stops in his tracks. Actually stops like he just stepped in glue. "What did you just say?"

The look on his face almost makes this whole awful experience worth it.

Almost.

"You heard me, Father. I said that my finacé and I are ready to open my birthday ball."

"I—" Father stutters.

"You got what you wanted, right Father?" Erica says sweetly, her voice all joy and brightness. I have to admit my pride in her is bigger than I ever thought possible. Enzo is good for her. Helping her assert herself. She's going to need that if we're going to pull these countries out of the holes our parents left them in.

I'm going to need it too.

"Announce me," I command, though it breaks all protocol and everything we rehearsed.

Without a moment's hesitation, the herald steps up to the doors and the guards do as I demand.

As he steps through the door, the room quiets and the orchestra doesn't miss a beat, shifting into the quiet tones of my entrance song.

The herald's voice is clear and loud as he announces our arrival. "Introducing The Princess Anabella Francesca Noemi Gemma of Tilcara, accompanied by her betrothed, Prince Antonio Gabriele Emiliano Salvatore of Manarola."

"Here we go," Antonio says, putting his hand over mine with a smile, holding out a delicate gold ring with a beautiful sapphire in the center. "Maybe you should put this on first."

"I'd be honoured," I reply. And the cameras get a shot of Antonio sliding a ring onto my finger.

There is absolutely nothing Father can do now. My engagement is as public as anything can be. And the poor man my father promised the world to is staring, mouth gaping open like he's trying to catch flies.

If he were any nicer of a man I would feel a little bad for him, but as it stands, I can't bring myself to care.

"What happens now?" Erica asks from behind me, securely holding Enzo's arm in her own.

I turn back to face her, Antonio turning with me. "Now, Sister, the real work begins. Now we make Father regret the day we learned the rules of his game."