Page 1 of Royal Resistance

Once upon a time, a princess went for a walk with her grandfather.

“I want to be queen,” Tema surprises me by saying.

Actually, no. Nothing this little girl says really surprises me.

Princess Tema. My first grandchild. Out of my life for the first eight years of her life, and now ensconced in a way that feels like she’s always been here in the castle with us.

Some might say Tema is the new love of my life. What grandfather doesn’t think that way about their grandchildren? Their first grandchild.

She’s no longer the only one, but she’ll always be my first.

I chuckle at the vehemence of Tema’s announcement. “I wouldn’t wish too hard on that,” I tell her. “You may turn out like your father, and running a country would be the last thing he wants.”

“I think I’d make a good queen,” Tema insists. “Aunt Edie thinks so, too.”

Queen Edie, I correct in my head. Still sounds strange. Good. But strange.

“You didn’t want to be king,” Tema points out. “And you did a good job.”

I smile at the praise. “I like to think so.”

“How did Grandma become queen?”

I hate that Selene never got to meet her granddaughter. Hate that we’ll never know if she wanted to be called Grandma, or Nana, or some version of Oma. It helps to know that Selene knew about Bo’s secret wedding. She knew, and she would have been happy. Happy and excited… and annoyed that she hadn’t been there to see it. It made a mess of things, but I am glad that Bo told Selene about Hettie before we lost Selene in the accident.

The accident that left our five children motherless.

I like to think Selene knew about Tema.

“She married me,” I tell her, swinging our hands between us. “I was king, so she became my queen.”

“Before that.”

“Your grandmother was a lot of things,” I muse. “But she was a princess herself before she met me. Without a kingdom, though.”

“How can you be a princess without a kingdom? I’m a princess, and this is my kingdom.”

She got that right—all of Laandia loves their princess. “Selene’s father—your great-grandfather—was a king, but he abdicated. You know what that means?”

“It’s what you did.”

I did. “It’s a long story.”

Tema squeezes my hand. “And you’re going to tell it to me, aren’t you?”

1

Magnus

The arena shakes as I rip into the solo. Fingers dancing, heart thumping along with the drums, I’m one with the music.

At least that’s what I tell myself. That’s what they think, how the crowd sees me. The lead guitarist for Kräftig, finishing up the European leg of our latest tour.

Benny, with his long curly hair held back with a bandana, is going crazy on the drums. Etienne, steady and stoic, keeps time on the bass. Classically trained, Luciano shows me up every time he solos. And Duncan—his face as much as his voice bringing in the girls.

I’m not the best musician or singer, but I’ve got the energy, I’ve got the pow, and I keep us rocking.

This—on stage with my friends, playing for the sold-out crowd, and keeping them here right with me in the palm of my hand—this is what I want. The music and the fame and the guys in the band, where I don’t have to make all the decisions and responsibility doesn’t weigh heavy on my shoulders.