Chapter 1

They walked wordlessly from the main throne room to outside the building. It turned out the palace was even bigger than it looked. There was not only the main building from which they had come from, but also four or five other buildings that acted as separate compounds and were also part of the royal grounds.

Life in the palace was a world among itself, evident even as she merely strolled along. Servants went from place to place with hurried feet and bowed heads as they disappeared behind hidden doors and secret passages. Members of the king's advising cabinet strolled leisurely across grassy lawns as they discussed the issue of the day. Finely dressed ladies, the wives and daughters of politicians, sat comfortably at fancy tables as they spread the latest gossip. And of course there were others who bustled through the palace and its people like ants. From tailors to tutors, they all served the king and his court.

It all passed by as a blur as she focused on keeping up with Ivan. It seemed one glance away too long and he would disappear entirely.

That is just what happened. She swore she had only turned her head away for a moment to watch the curious scene of a young boy trying to entice his pet Capuchin monkey down from a fruit tree, and when she turned back, Ivan was nowhere to be seen. She stood frozen in panic and thought about calling out for him when suddenly a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the darkness.

"Don't dawdle."

His stern words quieted her before she could scream. They stood in a decorative alcove, another secret servant's entrance, where the glittering mosaic wall was actually the door itself. He closed it behind her and let out a sigh of relief.

"This is the servant's hallway," he explained. "They go about the palace like a maze. You are never to enter one without my accompanying you, understand?"

"Yes, Sir." She replied automatically to his authoritative tone.

He held onto her wrist as they walked, though gentler than he had been when he removed the cuffs. There was no pull to his hold. It was only as if he were making sure not to get separated from her again.

The dark passageway was lit by wall lamps and much more spacious then the outside made it appear. It wasn't a cavern but it was just big enough for the servants to go about their tasks unseen. There were stairs that led to upper floors and dumbwaiters large enough for a number of serving trays. She wondered if it could also fit a dead body and just what dark secrets the palace held. Suddenly her eyes were assaulted by a blinding light.

They had stepped back into a brightly lit hallway, this time emerging from a door hidden behind a large state portrait of one king or another. Ivan let go of her wrist as he closed it behind them and for a moment, she thought they had once again entered the main building.

"This is the visitor's wing. We're right outside the room where you'll be staying."

"I don't know how I feel about being right across from that thing," she said with sarcasm as she thought of the pros and cons.

On one hand, it'd be a quick emergency exit if there was a siege or a coup. On the other hand, she could also get dragged away down a dark corridor behind a giant picture and no one would be none the wiser.

"It's not your concern," he shot back coolly. "Come along."

She grumbled as he walked ahead of her to open the door across the hall. He stepped back to let her walk in first and she did so with her jaw dropped.

A king-sized four poster canopy bed, a full bathroom, a chaise lounge by a curtained bay window, and a view of the royal water gardens was just a few of the amenities that overran her train of thought. The room was bathed in warm colors of purples, reds, browns, and gold. It felt inviting; it was manly without being brutish but also feminine without being dainty at the same time.

"Is it to your liking?" His voice purred in her ear and she almost didn't recognize it to be him.

She turned quickly and to her surprise, saw him wearing a genuine smile and a gleam of pride in his eyes.

"It's... it's great," she sputtered out, "but listen, about this whole picking a king thing-"

"Don't fret," he said with a reassuring nod as his smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. He resumed his serious and formal tone as he addressed her concerns.

"I'll explain it thoroughly tomorrow. Tonight, just try and get some rest."

"But I can't stay here without clothes!"

She stood on her tip toes as she became increasingly frantic. To be honest, she didn't want to stay at all.

"And feminine things! And I am just a commoner and me choosing a king can't really be okay and-"

"I understand," he nodded. "Now, I need you to understand that you won't be alone. As ordered, you have my servitude. I'll acquire anything you need and be of help to you in any way I can. So please, good night."

He gave her a bow and dismissed himself from the room.

She still stood wondering just what she was supposed to do. Usually, she would shower before bed but without a change of clothes, that made it impossible. Did he also expect her to wear the same clothes, the same underwear, day after day? The least he could've done was told her where to put her soiled laundry if she had to go without them.

She kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed, starting to fume at the audacity of it all. First her luggage was stolen and now this. Her vacation plans were shot and she had no idea if she was better or worse than before.

Her brows were furrowed in anger as her head hit the downy pillow. They were still furrowed as she slept through the night.

"Miss Alexandra, wake up!"

"What," she yelled in anger as she tried to see who had awoken her.

The sun light reflected off the pond outside and into her room, hitting her dead in the face.

"Shit, my eyes!" Her irritation turned to pain and the blinding light sent her diving back face first into the pillows.

"It's 5 o'clock in the morning and you're barely awake," he chastised, as he tied the curtains in place.

"Why would I even be up at 5 a.m. in the first place," she shot back as she literally crawled out of the bed and onto the floor, the only place the light couldn't reach her.

"As a guest, you are to abide by the rules of your host," he began, as he folded up the bedsheet in his arms. "As a lady, it is unbecoming to be a late riser."

She shot him a dirty look, smacked her lips, and rolled her eyes; a trifecta she knew he would appreciate if his 'as a lady' comment was anything to go by. It was then that she noticed just how he had awoken her, by pulling off her bedsheets.

"As a gentleman, isn't a rude to step into a lady's room and pull off her bedding while she's sleeping," she's said with crossed arms. "Imagine if I had been sleeping naked because I didn't have a change of clothes!"

His face turned red but his glower at her rudeness remained. He averted his gaze and cleared his throat with a cough.

"That's been taken care of," he answered. "If you had awoken when I knocked, you would've known that. I apologize for leaving you so inconvenienced last night. I've brought you a few articles of clothing ordered from a local boutique. If you'd please take a look in the armoire..."

He held out his hand and she followed his gesture to the large cabinet in the corner of the room. She picked herself off from the floor with a stretch and a yawn, more behaviors that irritated him, and walked over to it. She opened both the cabinet doors to find that 'a few pieces' may as well have meant 'entire season collection'.

The armoire had two racks and three drawers and all were full. The top rack held shirts, camisoles, sweaters, and dresses. The bottom rack had skirts and pants. The three small drawers had underwear, socks, and stockings. Even the small shelf on the outside held three pairs of shoes; a fancy pair of high heels, a pair of everyday Mary Janes, and a pair of tall hide boots for rain or shine.

"If anything doesn't fit or isn't to your liking, please don't hesitate to let me know. This is temporary until a suitable catalogue can be found for you. Until then, please make due."

His words were nonchalant but she stood trembling as she thumbed through the clothes, especially the lingerie. She picked up a brassiere from the drawer, checked the tag, and then turned to him with an accusatory look of fear and indignation.

"How did you... How did you know my size? Don't say you guessed!"

Ivan blushed again and looked away as his face became awash in utter disappointment.

"I'd rather not have to answer that..."

"Tell me," she cried with rising panic. "Did you do something while I was sleeping!? What kind of place is this? What have I gotten myself into!?"

Ivan brought his palm to his forehead as she took a defensive posture.

"Forgive me. I had no way of knowing your size without waking you to ask you. But after yesterday's tumultuous events, I wanted to let you rest. So I went and asked his majesty and..."

He spoke with such utter sincerity and dejection that she listened to him all that more closely.

"And..." she asked cautiously.

"He told me just what I needed to know and nothing more, I promise."

She gasped in horror and Ivan ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to hold his composure. They both stood silent as the weight of his words filled the room. So the king had told Ivan her exact measurements, even her shoe size, and all he had needed was a glance. A fear crept into her; heaven forbid she gain any weight in front of him.

"Do I have to pay for these things," she asked politely to break the long and awkward silence.

"No," he answered solemnly. "You may think of it as a gift for my transgression."

"I guess... I guess I'll go wash up then."

"Of course. Not to rush you but please hurry. We're behind schedule enough as it is. I hope the items in the washroom are to your liking. Please take comfort in knowing that his majesty had no input in picking any personal effects."

"Thanks, I guess."

There words were still awkward and distant. She picked out an outfit and went to the adjacent bathroom that was through the door to the right of her bed. He nodded but kept his gaze on the floor, his blush having never left his cheeks.

As Eber Nari was a warm country all year round, she chose to wear a simple floral sundress and her own sandals.

While the clothes fit correctly, Ivan had no idea how they would fit on her. The difference in inches between her waist and hips was not to be underestimated and the seemingly innocent dress was now nearly indecent. His heart stopped when she stepped out of the washroom. She did a little twirl and held up her hands, waiting for his approval. As the twirl lifted her dress a bit too much before bringing it back down, he had forgotten how to breathe.

He cleared his throat and it was then and there that he decided that she would not be stepping outside of that room at all that day. There would certainly be hell if his majesty, King Tamir, or the lotharious Prince Melchiorre caught sight of her. He vowed then and there that he would not let her fall for their wanton advances.

"Ivan?"

She called his name almost impatiently and snapped him out of his thoughts. Accidentally, his eyes traveled from the floor to her feet, then up her legs and kept going, slowly, until he reached her face. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail that rounded her face and made her look more youthful as she pouted.

"My apologies, I let my mind wander too far," he said with a curt dismissal. "Now for today's schedule. Please take a seat."

He motioned her toward a writing desk and pulled out the chair. As she sat down, her dress rode up. He stood over her and pushed the chair in. He looked down only to check that he hadn't pushed it too far in when his eyes saw her thighs and nothing else. Somehow the dress had turned into a shirt and should she open her legs, there'd be nothing blocking his view of her panties, or anything else between them.

He did his job diligently then stood back and stared straight ahead. Had he locked the door? Should he lock it now? Should he close the blinds as well? He would never go shopping for women's clothing again if this is what came of it.

"I think we should begin with the basic rules," he began, "table etiquette, the proper way to dress, how to tastefully wear makeup, and so on."

She let out a yawn and put both elbows on the table with her head in her hands in a mocking display.

"First and foremost will be manners," he said as he gave each of her hands a swat with a short wooden ruler. "Elbows off the table, it's boorish. And to yawn during conversation is extremely rude."

She snatched her hands away and put them by her side. "Hey! What is this, elementary school?"

"Perhaps it is, seeing as how you should have learned both those things then and needn't to be reminded of them now."

She crossed her arms and wanted to give him a ruder gesture but the ruler pointing menacingly in her direction made her straighten up.

"Back straight," he said while pressing the palm his hand onto the small of her back.

"Chin up," came the tap of his fingers to her chin.

"Hands folded in your lap," he said while not daring to peek even to see if she was doing it correctly. "Very good."

"Why am I doing this," she asked, while trying to keep the unfamiliar pose.

"A guest shows respect through their mannerisms," he said again with emphasis. "As a guest of the king, your behavior is a reflection of his judgment."

"Well he did pick me up off the street," she pointed out.

"Curtail that sass, young lady," he said with another, harder whack of the ruler. This time, he purposely hit the side of her dress, knowing he was hitting her bottom. "And keep that form! Only through rigorous practice will it start becoming more natural to you."

She let out a groan and a sigh, genuinely forgetting what the goal of this exercise was. Another whack reminded her and she sat up straighter then an arrow as he went on.

"Showing gratitude should be first and foremost in your mind. You should do nothing that would tax his majesty or make him regret or reconsider extending his hospitality to you. Following the rules of the household is the least you can do, be it for a king or pauper. Guests who expect preferential treatment are guests who are not invited back."

"I'm not trying to get invited back, I'm trying not to get executed for a crime I didn't commit," she objected.

"And I am teaching you how," he said, with every syllable punctuated by another whack to her bottom. "The task you have been given is too far out of your league if you can't even sit still. No pouting," he quickly added as he saw her began to purse her lips.

"It may seem frivolous but please understand. As long as you wear that bracelet, you alone have the power to decide the future of this country. For that reason, I am going to teach you how to contend with kings."

Alex looked at him in awe and he stared back with a proud smile.

"But I don't want to contend with kings," she answered. "I just wanted a vacation."

"Powers in heaven, help me," he said briskly as he turned away in a rage. "Miss Alexandra, you will do as I say and memorize what I tell you to or so help you, I will tan your hide. Do not pout!"

She tried her hardest to hide her disappointment but a small whine crept through anyway. It wasn't loud but it was enough for Ivan to increase her punishment. Just like a school teacher, he made her stand up straight, saying she had lost the privilege of being able to sit down.

As he lectured, she was made to walk a straight line with a book on her head as the sharp sting of the ruler corrected her faults.

"Shoulders low, head up," he chided. "Use the balls of your feet, very good. Do not sway your hips," he snapped.

"I can't help it," she objected. "I have a natural switch. That's why they're called thunder thighs! Thunder," she said while putting down one foot dramatically, "and lightning."

She gave a catwalk strut and stopped, turning and posing with her hands on her hips and tossing her hair. She froze and let out a squeal as she felt his hands brush against said thighs and grab ahold of the hem of her dress.

"Ivan?"

He stood behind her, silent but she could hear him breathing hard. After swallowing, his voice brushed her ear.

"It's very improper to saunter in such a fashion. Especially while wearing an already scant dress. If you don't want me to punish you more creatively..."

Her body jumped on alarm as she felt the heat from his words. He pulled her hem down as much as it could go then let go quickly. She turned to see his stern face, arms crossed and the fire in his eyes dying down as his demeanor returned to that of a schoolmarm.

"I have a lot to teach you and we have a long way to go so please, Miss Alex, stay focused. Enough chit chat and back to work. From the top, book in place," he said as he took the book from her hand and put it on the top of her head, with an apple for good measure.

"1, 2, 3, step, step, step. Drop your shoulders. Now as you're walking, you come across his majesty and you say?"

"Uhm, good day, your majesty? Lovely weather we're having?"

"Except it's hailing," he added.

"Horrid weather we're having," she said with a shrug.

"Good enough," he answered. "Drop your shoulders and keep walking. Next scenario."

As Ivan lectured her morning, noon, and night, being a royal guest felt more like being a royal prisoner.