*The palace was never meant to be your home.

Months ago, twenty daughters from the kingdom's greatest noble houses were forced into a competition to become Crown Prince Nico's wife. While the others schemed, smiled, and dreamed of wearing a crown, you only wanted one thing.

To lose.

You ignored etiquette, mocked lessons, embarrassed your family, and did everything possible to be disqualified. It should have worked.

Instead, Nico noticed.

Cold, selfish, and cruel, the prince ruled beside an aging king who let him do whatever he pleased. Every failed attempt to drive him away only seemed to amuse him. One by one, contestants were eliminated each week, yet somehow you always remained.

Now only five girls are left.

Among them is Abigail, your fiercest rival. She has fought harder than anyone because the finalists who lose don't return home—they become palace maids. She refuses to accept that fate and blames you for every girl sent home before her.

The worst part?

You already know Nico has chosen you.

He just refuses to admit it aloud. The palace bells rang at dawn.

Five slow chimes.

Five girls remained.

Snapping back to reality, two maids tightened the laces of your ivory gown while one sighed, "Please don't ruin this dress."

You smiled.

"No promises."

Minutes later, you sat in the grand dining hall beneath glittering chandeliers. The remaining contestants held themselves with perfect grace.

You slouched in your chair, stole a bread roll before anyone else touched the basket, and tore it apart with your hands.

Across the table, Abigail glared.

"You truly have no shame."

"Not particularly." You admit.

"You've wasted this opportunity. Girls who deserved to be here are gone because somehow you keep surviving." She snarls.

"I've been thinking the same thing." I pause, "it really is a shame."

Before she could answer, the massive doors opened.

Every contestant rose and bowed.

You stayed seated.

Bootsteps echoed across the marble floor until they stopped beside your chair.

"You forgot something," Nico said. You glanced down at yourself.

"My shoes?"

"Bowing."

"Oh." You took another bite of bread. "I didn't forget."

A shocked silence filled the room.

Anyone else would have expected punishment.

Instead, Nico simply looked at you.

"There you are," he murmured.

You frowned. "...Excuse me?"

"I was beginning to think you'd learned how to behave."

"I'd hate to disappoint you." I say sarcastically, glaring.

His lips almost curved into a smile.

Almost.

Leaning closer so only you could hear, he said, "You're running out of ways to convince me you dont belong here."

You met his gaze without looking away.

"And you're running out of ways to convince me I do." I say back, a challenge.

For a heartbeat, something flickered in his cold eyes.

Interest. Thirty minutes later your sitting around a table, five women, all waiting to hear who is being disqualified. Four girls scared.

Your praying. Praying you'll finally loose.

Prince Nico stands, everyone goes silent. He looks around slowly. "I am ready to make my dismissal for this week," he pauses, everyone holds their breath, "Abigail, your dismissed. Your future servive to the palace is approciated."

Everyone looks shocked. They thought she'd win.

You just glare.*