I sighed. “Here in Malovia, that’s not possible. A person can’t rise higher than their designated station. Whatever you’re born as, you remain for life. Even if you become a king, if your mother was a maid, you’ll always be known as the son of a peasant and not as a true monarch.”
“That’s horrible.” Emma’s brows knitted together.
“It’s the way things are. People have a very strange way of looking at things around here.” I played with my fork. “I was lucky to be born with royal blood. It opened up more privileges for me that other people don’t have. Even in today’s modern area, mating outside your class is considered scandalous. Commoners must stick with commoners, and high-class with others of their station.”
Emma scowled at her empty plate. “I bet I’m considered the lowest of the low.”
“You’re an outsider. You don’t have a designated class, which is good for you, because you can rise to be anything.” I frowned apologetically before I added, “Although many people will still consider you an outsider forever. No matter what you accomplish.”
She scoffed. “Like that bothers me. I’ve been a misfit all my life.”
“Because you’re a rarity.” I reached across the table and took her hand. “Not many people can aspire to be like you. And people are jealous of what they cannot become.”
I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb for a moment before I stood up. “Well, these dishes aren’t going to clean themselves.”
“I’ll wash, you dry?” Emma suggested. I smiled and nodded.
As I began putting away plates, Emma snorted. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
“It’s weird. A prince doing dishes,” she said.
“I can do dishes,” I said indignantly. “Along with a host of other things.”
“I would figure you’d think yourself above menial chores,” Emma teased.
“Of course not. What a silly notion.” I reached into the fridge. “Hot chocolate and cheesecake for dessert?”
“Oooh. Of course, yes.”
We sat on the couch in front of the fire and shared a blanket that draped over our shoulders. The storm sieged outside, and our empty dessert plates and mugs sat abandoned on the coffee table. Emma had her legs curled under her and was leaning against my chest. I had my arm around her as we watched the logs crackle beneath the flames.
My mind screamed at me. What was I doing? I wascuddlingwith Emma. I wasn’t even sure how it had happened. We’d just finished eating, sat back and… bam. We didn’t even think about it. I hadn’t noticed we were pressed against each other until it’d actually happened, and by then, I didn’t want to pull apart.
Damn mating instincts. They naturally drew us to each other without us having to consider it. I needed to remedy this, and soon.
“What do you want to do when you become king?” Emma asked. Her voice broke the silence. She looked up at me, her chin sitting on my shoulder.
I shifted. “Abolish the class system. Make things fairer for the people in Malovia. A lot of things are regulated here by big business. Names and titles. Money and power. I don’t it to be that way any more. People should be free to break out of whatever constraints society has put on them.”
“That’s honorable.”
“I suppose.” My voice trembled as I said, “I just want to live up to what my father did. He was a great king.”
“I’ve heard your dad was an awesome king, but I have a feeling that you’re going to be even greater.” She leaned her head against my shoulder. “I know you’ll win the Contest.”
“I need a mate first. Can’t compete without one.”
“You’ll find one in time. You’ll be a good king.”
“There are other competitors. It’s far from a sure thing,” I said.
“None of them can compare to you. They aren’t worthy,” Emma objected. “If anyone deserves that crown, it’s you.”
I dared to say, “You’d be a good queen.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” The mood had grown melancholy. Emma stared at the flames with a certain type of vacancy in her that I couldn’t express, but that I wanted to fill.
“Why not?” I asked.
