That Royal Betrothal

        COPYRIGHT © 2020 by R.A Higheels

         All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

         Hello, guys!! I'm glad you clicked on this book. I must really say you are about to taste my days of hardwork and commitment put when creating this book. Yet, there are things you should know before reading this book.

- This book is not set in 17th or 18th century like most royal books. Rather, it is set in 21st century.

- There will be sexual content, cussing and it could also trigger violence since it's a drama. I will be making use of what happens in normal day life. We are humans. We all make mistakes.

- The Italian surname, Moretti is not something I did by mistake. It's the plotline and if you read further, you'll get to know why it's that way.

 - Do not ask for a sequel. If I wanted to make one, I could have given you insights on it. Do not, it's annoying.

- Do not spam my comment section with insultive words. If you don't like my story, then go write yours.

- Constructive criticism is welcome. Nobody is perfect so as we learn everyday.

- You can send me banners or graphics of my book on Dm. It's always welcome.

- Please do not translate my book into other languages. If at all you want to, let me know. No Writer wants to see her work in another author's name.

- This book is only on three sites as at now. Wattpad, Goodnovel and Quotev. If seen on any other site, do not fail to inform me. We are a community, let's stand by it.

That's all for now. I hope you enjoy your book. Yes, yours!! It's all yours... :)

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Prologue

*2 weeks before*

     I remember mum’s exact words. Like her last words to me about my betrothed marriage. She had said,

     That day exact replayed in my head over and over again like a broken brick, fixing over and all over again. I had attempted to convince my mum to stop this, looking forward, raising my chin up and stabilizing my shoulders like a true royal princess.

     “You, you can fix this. Why won’t you?”, I had said to her. Mrs. Sanders was an epitome of a perfect queen. She had been a peasant long enough even before she became a royal queen of England. She looked younger than her age and is a mouthwatering beauty.

     “To fulfil all righteousness, child. You will understand sooner or later. Pray thee, this masculine is the best for you. There is nothing more surreal as this”, she says in her clean English accent. Years of being a royal queen really shaped my mum. I mean, you should have seen her when she was a full-time peasant mistress. Always chilling like a villain.

     “Mum? I don’t think I’m ready”, I said as calm as I could. After years of being taught how to be a proper English, I have been told to be relaxed even when angered to the extreme. I held the folds of my lilac knee length night gown, staring at the moonlight outside the window.

     “That comes the best part of it all”, she smiled highlighting her perfect sets of white teeth, swaying her graceful manicured hands in the air with her curls going here and there.

     “You are ready to enter this whirlpool, child. This is your betrothed, love. You would do just fine”. I stared in surprise at what she said knowing that she was the one that actually understood me in the palace. And the fact that she was going to let her daughter; her only begotten daughter in all to get married to another who was unknown. Who didn’t matter to us in the palace just a while ago.

     Really, I had expected more from mum. Apart from being her only daughter of the four royal heirs, my siblings were all males and I was the second born. My elder brother got married to his betrothed, two years ago, and they really do fine presently but I can’t compare my situation to his because the girl literally grew up in the castle.

     “Okay, mum”, I grunted in defeat, bending my shoulders down. I had decided to face this head on even if I had no idea how. I’m a full grown charming woman to even begin with so I wasn’t going to be affected in the slightest manner.

      “My goddess! What are you doing, dear? You don’t ever slump your shoulder backwards in defeat. You are a princess and you should be graceful at all times”. She gave a sigh and braced herself too. She then wrapped me into a hug squeezing me so tight and protective.

      “Ur—mum? This is so unladylike”, I reminded her in her usual neat, arching my brows.

     “I know, dear. Fuck it!”. She said in a spin of second and hugged me tighter. I gripped her warm hug and settled in, breathing gently.

     I was really going to miss her, you know.

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         “There is no such thing as a good story. There is only something like a good book. A good book is where a reader finds complete solace and comfort; a way to escape harsh realities relating to his life”

-         R.A Higheels

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