She hadn’t asked for this life. Being a princess – and someday ruling the entire country – wasn’t her grandest wish. She wasn’t born to be queen, despite her blood and royal decree declaring otherwise. Sure, she had the eloquence that was necessary for the job, but that was about it. Danika was a kind person. She looked out for others, had a soft spot for children and animals, and she sought to make her home a better place. She could do that however, without a crown. Fate, she decided, was to blame for that. For depriving the world of her sister, rather than herself.
Once upon a time, she wasn’t the only child. Danika was the baby of the Novak family. It was her older sister, Sara (the name literally meaning ‘princess’), that was first heir to the throne. That was fine with Danika – she didn’t want it. She wasn’t the envious type, but rather, would have deemed her sister the perfect proper princess. She could handle the pressure, and she’d told Danika so many times that relationships would never work. Sara had accepted her fate. Danika though, was in denial. She wanted no part of it. Since a child she’d witnessed how her parents struggled to find happiness, and a forced life wasn’t much of one at all.
Unfortunately, Sara had an accident. There was a small part of her that always wondered if it truly was that. Not that she would ever think her sister to stoop so low; she wanted to be queen. But, being a royal did put a target on your back – like it or not. By default, the role fell to Danika. She was too heartbroken to deny her parents’ wishes. Even if they hadn’t been the most loving of parents, they’d lost their first born too. She and Sara had been so close, and now her best friend was gone. Forever.
Accepting this, Danika assumed her daily duties. She attended etiquette and charm classes, these more in depth than the ones she’d been sucked in to as a back up. It was overwhelming, and she felt like she was suffocating. Freedom would be necessary to keep her from breaking. However, Danika told herself never to get too close to anyone, because someday she’d be arranged to marry a stranger, and it would be the ultimate demise of her, and anyone that fell for her.
The day she met their new kitchen boy, that went out the window. Not that Danika knew it at the time, but Viktor had caught her gaze immediately. He wasn’t like the dull, polished princes that toted among the court in order to catch her fancy. He was rough around the edges, and kind… but also sexy, and… real. There was no facade, and in a world where people put on a front for someone of royalty, she took that to mean a lot. Flirting with him had first begun as something fun to do – to get a rise out of them both. She couldn’t resist. It wasn’t like she’d had a way to unleash any of that pent up tension that a princess in a sheltered home bubbled up. What she hadn’t anticipated though was to fall in love.
To truly fall in love. And now she didn’t know what to do. All she wanted was to be with Viktor; to spend time together in his small, but private place. To steal kisses and cuddles and create a future together, no matter how meager or simple. But fate really did hate her, Danika had decided. Because her life was far from simple. She couldn’t let down her family; her parents, late sister, or other folks that would someday be under her rule. Most of all though, she didn’t want to let down Viktor. She cared about him more than anything. Just the idea of this ending some day literally made her sick. So Danika tried to take it one day at a time, and enjoy it while it lasted. Otherwise, she’d always be a miserable brat.
Messy blonde tresses splayed about their shared pillow. Danika was tucked into Viktor’s side, the strong arms leaving her causing the princess to release a sigh of protest. But she watched as he silently stalked away from her and toward the bathroom, noting something immediately was wrong. Rising to lean upon her elbows, the princess’ head tilted as she examined him from afar – trying to piece together the cogs in his mind spinning. Hazel eyes focused on Viktor, their stare soft and uncertain until the question fell from his lips. Immediately, as if she’d been struck by a bullet, Danika wrapped the sheets around herself tightly and sat up completely, eyebrows furrowing together.
“Is that a real question?” she asked incredulously, her husky voice wavering – between anger and sadness that he even need ask. “You already should know the answer to that,” Danika pointed out, feeling tears prick her eyes. She tried blinking them away as she self consciously dropped her chin onto her knees. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here in your bed with you. Do you know how easy it would be – to be with him? Not, emotionally, but because no one would care? There wouldn’t be any sneaking around… none of this hiding. It would be a piece of cake. But I would be dead inside, because I don’t love him. I don’t even like him. I love you. But I don’t know how to get that through your thick head, V.”
Viktor always knew that it would be trouble to get into bed with a princess. The bigger issue was that he had also fallen in love with Danika, but knew it would never work out between them. He was nothing but a lonely kitchen boy, doomed to suffer at the hands of his mother's consequences. Even if there wasn't a law against royalty marrying commoners, there was no way the king and queen would want someone like him at their daughter's side. He was unruly, and even though he looked the part of a bad boy, he was anything but. Growing up, Viktor only wanted compassion and attention. Now that he was an adult, starved of regard and sympathy, he stuck to the shadows. It was better when fewer people noticed him; it made him feel invisible and safe. But Danika had seen through all that, which was the reason they had gotten into this mess in the first place.
Deep down, Viktor knew that Danika cared for him. If she didn't, she wouldn't waste her time sneaking around between etiquette lessons. It was hard, however, when he had to see photos of Danika and The Prince. Viktor could see the fake smile on her face but always focused on their bound hands. He wanted nothing more than to be the one at her side but knew it would never happen. Even though the pictures were rough, seeing the faux couple in person was worse. It took every ounce of Viktor's strength to turn away and go back to his kitchen. Honestly, he'd do anything to give that smarmy Prince an ass whooping. Just the thought of seeing The Prince at his feet (wide-eyed and with a bloody nose, no less) brought him too much joy.
Staring over at Danika, Viktor didn't miss the hurt expression that past through her face. He felt a mixture of satisfaction and pain; simultaneously wanting to make her feel better and worse. He knew that this wasn't either of their faults. Not really. Viktor knew how seriously she took her role as a princess; her family and country meant a lot to her. He also knew that she took their relationship seriously too. This was no longer quickies in the pantry or stolen kisses behind the fridge. This was the real deal. If given the chance, Viktor would get down on one knee and propose to her on the spot. He'd never get the chance, but every once in a while he toyed with the possibility. No, all they were allowed was a few more stolen months before her coronation. Then Danika would be married to The Prince, and he'd have to move on. Viktor didn't think that was feasible, but he'd have to do it eventually.
Danika's words left Viktor at a loss. She was right; if she really wanted meaningless sex, she had the perfect excuse. Fooling around with the kitchen boy, making up excuses and hitching rides to the wrong side of town, was too exhausting for nothing. His gears were working in overdrive as he tried to think of a comeback. His teeth gritted with the effort before he let out a noise of disappointment. He leaned his head back against the doorframe, casting a longing side eye in her direction. There was nothing more heavenly than seeing Danika naked in his bed. Her hair, often tied up, was wildly framing her face and her cheeks were flushed. He wanted to kiss her and end this fight. He also wanted to scream and break something because she shouldn't be here in the first place.
What he needed to do was make up his damn mind. Was he willing to spend what little time they had together or did he want to break it off? He had a choice to make.
After a long moment of tense, uncomfortable silence, Viktor slowly made his way to the bed. With a sigh, he got to his knees and rested his head below her feet. It looked like he was groveling, and maybe he was; he wasn't too sure. After a moment, he glanced up at her, his heart breaking at the beauty above him. "Then why do you always go home to him in the end?" His voice was so soft but accusatory. "If you love me, then why are we doing this to one another?" He winced as soon as the words left his lips, knowing he crossed their unspeakable line. He knew it was too late to take the words back, which felt freeing.
He might as well keep going, right? Nothing Viktor said would make it any better. They hadn't said anything about it for a good reason. If they started talking about it now, things could end here and now. "Wouldn't it be better if we never did this in the first place? Because watching you marry that piece of crap is going to destroy me. You do know that, right? I won't be able to watch you with him when I know what it's like to have you in my arms." He left out a ragged breath, feeling like a wild and wounded animal. "Please don't make me watch that, moje srce."
