A Fierce Princess: The Poisoned Pawn Duet Part I

by S. E. Rose

  A Fierce Princess

  The Poisoned Pawn Duet Part I

  S.E. Rose

  Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by S.E. Rose

  Sneak Peek at The Poisoned Pawn Duet Part II, A Valiant Prince

  Copyright © 2019 S. E. Rose

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.seroseauthor.com

  Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Each book in this series primarily takes place in real locations where the author has previously visited. However, aside from names of countries and cities, the places are described in a fictional manner. The author has drawn from her personal experiences to describe these locations, but also uses fictitious embellishments for the purposes of the story.

  This book contains descriptions of adult relationships and violence as well as derogatory language. If such things offend you, this book is not for you. The book is intended for mature readers.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  To my mother, who raised two brave, independent, strong women. I would never have started this writing journey if you hadn’t taught me to follow my dreams.

  To my grandmother, who always reassured me that the best things come in small packages.

  Prologue

  “Though she be but little, she is fierce.” ~William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

  Chris’s hand is sweaty. I try to pull my hand away from his, but his grip tightens. I look up to tell him to let me go. His glare down at me shuts me up before I even open my mouth. I look back down at the pavement. I feel as though we’ve been walking forever. Auggie and Daddy are to my right. My feet hurt because my shoes are too small. Auntie Lara said I had to wear them because they were Mommy’s favorite.

  I look up at the box carrying Mommy. I know she’s inside because the lid was open before we left the palace. Daddy had asked us if we wanted to see her. I had wanted to see her. She looked asleep. Daddy reminded me she was not asleep. She was dead. Dead like my bunny, Chomper. Dead like my fish, Newton. Dead like the flowers on Mommy’s desk. While my daddy spoke to Chris and Auggie, I walked up to the box. I poked Mommy and told her to wake up, but she didn’t move. I stuck a picture I had drawn into the side of the box. I don’t want Mommy to miss me.

  My lower lip trembles at the thought of Mommy alone in that box. She didn’t have her crown. Her favorite crown that she always wears. Daddy says it’s missing. Mommy will be so sad without it, without me.

  Chris squeezes my hand, and I look up at him. He doesn’t smile but he winks at me. It’s our special wink. It means everything will be alright. Only, Mommy is dead, so everything is not alright.

  I want to whine about my shoes. I want to cry about Mommy. But mostly, I just want to go back to my room, away from all the people. Daddy said we had to let the public pay their respects. We had to go to the church with Mommy in her box, and now we have to walk back to our garden with her. There are so many people on the streets. I don’t like it. I don’t understand why people keep saying that they are sorry. It’s like they did something wrong, only I don’t think that they did.

  Chris pulls my hand, and I realize we have stopped. We are in front of the gates of the palace. A priest starts talking, and we stand there for a very long time. I tap Chris’s shoe with my own. He taps back. Then Daddy takes my hand and leads me up to Mommy’s box.

  Chris and Auggie are next to us. Daddy picks me up because I’m so short I can’t see the top of the box.

  “It’s time to say goodbye to Mommy,” he says. I see a single tear roll down his cheek. His hand comes to rest on top of the box. I place mine next to it.

  “Daddy?” I ask.

  He turns to me. He’s crying, and Daddy never cries. I’m now afraid to say anything out loud for fear I will say the wrong thing. I cup my hands around my mouth and whisper in his ear, “Can I kiss Mommy goodbye?”

  His lip trembles and he closes his eyes for a long moment. “You may kiss her box,” he whispers back to me. I nod, and he leans me down. I place both hands on the box and press a kiss to it. I hear cameras and see lots of flashes. I close my eyes, blocking all the noise and people from my vision.

  “I love you, Mommy. Goodbye,” I whisper. I’m about to raise my head when I look down and see not just Daddy’s hand but also Chris’s and Auggie’s hands too. I leave my hand there, and we all stand huddled around Mommy.

  After a minute, Daddy steps back along with my brothers. He keeps me in his arms, his nose pressed against my hair. He holds me so tight that it almost hurts. I want to tell him so. It’s the feel of another tear against my cheek that keeps me from saying anything because I don’t want Daddy to cry anymore.

  As the priest finishes talking, I feel my brothers on either side of Daddy and me. I look one last time at Mommy’s box before I turn away and wrap my arms tightly around Daddy’s neck, burying my face into him and closing my eyes.

  I’m afraid to open them…afraid to acknowledge what I know in my heart…afraid of what happens now.

  Chapter 1

  Fourteen years later…

  “Are you in?” Sonya asks.

  “Just a minute…” I trail off as I focus on decoding encryption. It’s what I live for…the one thing that is mine and truly me.

  “One second…” I add as I keep typing. Sonya is silent on the other line. It’s not actually that hard. I’m half-focused on the task at hand, while I continue to monitor another project on my other computer, the one no one knows about.

  “And…done,” I finally say.

  “Yes! I knew you could do it,” she says, and I hear her clap.

  I weave my way through the code until I find what I’m looking for and I make a few minor tweaks before I back out without leaving a trace.

  “OK, all done. You owe me one,” I say to my best friend.

  I look down at the video chat in time to see her rolling her eyes. “What can you possibly want? You’re a fucking princess for god’s sake!” she says.

  I smirk.

  “Oh, no,” she says.

  “Oh, come on!” I whine.

  “Are you trying to get me killed?” she asks.

  I pout and she laughs. “You suck!” she says.

  When Sonya learned that Kolvin, the boy she had been coveting for two years, was on a dating app, she may have sort of talked me into rigging the system, so they w
ere a perfect match. And my price may have been her promising to cover for me, so I can go out for one night of fun sometime soon. What are besties for after all?

  “Suzy Q, where are you?” I hear Christian’s voice in the hallway and groan.

  “I gotta go. Later,” I say to her and end the chat.

  A minute later my door bursts open. “Ever try knocking, Lion?” I ask him.

  “Ever try locking your door?” he retorts.

  “Whatever. What do you want?” I ask him. “I’m sort of busy.”

  “Oh?” he asks. Fortunately, I had quickly switched the screen back to a lecture video from my grad program.

  “Just finishing re-watching this lecture,” I say with a yawn.

  “Nice try. What are you really up to?” he asks.

  My brothers both know that I like to hack things for fun, but they don’t know my endgame. They have never known my endgame. Even Sonya doesn’t know everything. I admit spending most of my free time with the world’s demons and outcasts is not a hobby becoming of a princess, but it’s my secret world where I can be whoever I want to be. Online, I am Knight2E4. It’s an homage to my favorite book and my favorite game.

  “Just messing around on a dating site for Sonya,” I admit with a shrug.

  “You know, you really need to stop fucking around online. One, if you get caught…let’s not even go there, and two, you need to start acting like a princess instead of a pirate,” he adds.

  He gets up and starts to leave my room. “Oh, and by the way, Dad wants to see you,” he says.

  I groan and toss myself on my bed. I just as quickly get back up, remove the black eyeliner I’m wearing, brush my hair, and change into an acceptable attire. I grumble to myself as I make my way through the palace to my father’s office.

  If Chris came to tell me, then it’s ninety-nine percent likely that he had just been here before me. I take a deep breath and knock on the door. Harriet, my father’s receptionist, opens it. She ushers me to the large wooden double doors of my father’s office and knocks on them before opening and saying, “Princess Susanna, Your Majesty.”

  “Enter,” my father says. I walk into the room and take a seat across from his desk.

  “Susanna,” he starts, “what are your plans?”

  “My plans?” I ask. I find myself straightening in the chair and crossing my legs.

  “This is your last semester of graduate school. What do you plan to do next?” he inquires, looking up at me over a stack of papers on his desk. He’s wearing his reading glasses and has his head tilted down so that his view of me is not obstructed by them.

  “Well, I…I’m not sure,” I stammer.

  “You do know you are obligated to take over your mother’s charity work full-time if you plan on remaining a paid royal,” he reminds me.

  I sigh. My mother had spent her time creating about a half dozen charities. Most of them centered around underprivileged youths and children with terminal illnesses. I have been volunteering with them since I was old enough to carry items. In fact, the few strong memories I have of my mother mostly center around helping her at various charity events. And I’m well aware that there are two types of royals: paid and unpaid.

  I majored in international politics with a minor in computer programming because it was acceptable. And my graduate degree is in international business relations with a focus in e-commerce. What my family doesn’t know, is that I am one of the best hackers in the world. I could have taught all my computer classes. The jobs I would love to have, however, would not be suitable for a princess.

  After my mother’s death, Chris sank into sports to mask his sorrows, and Auggie spent all his time playing video games. I was left to study on my computer most days. And I learned everything I could about that computer, and all the ones I had after it. By the time I was fourteen, I had made my own server, my own computer, and I had my own secured Wi-Fi. I could hack any of my father’s computer files. By the time I was sixteen, I could hack all our government ministries’ websites. And by the time I finally went off to university, I could pretty much hack anything.

  But I didn’t do it just for fun. At first, I did it to learn more about my mother, her accident, and what really happened. I was young and curious. Then, it became an obsession. And lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m so close to solving a mystery that I can practically taste victory.

  “Susanna?” my father says. My mind snaps back to him. I have no idea what he just said.

  He sighs. “Susanna, I’ve indulged this behavior long enough. You need to step up and take on the responsibilities of your title,” he says as he runs a hand through his hair. I look at him, really look at him. He’s looking older, there are many gray hairs at his temples. Fine lines run across his forehead like a highway map of anguish. He’s still quite handsome, distinguished looking, but he also looks tired and stressed. There are dark circles under his eyes and lines around his mouth from frowning when he thinks no one is paying attention.

  “Dad…” I trail off trying to think of a way to buy more time. I just need a little more time. And then I remember, one of Mom’s charities has its annual gala in six months. That’s enough time. I can do this by then. “How about I finish my classes, and then take some time to decompress? I will announce my role as the head of Mom’s charities at the gala in the fall.”

  I hold my breath and watch my father process my idea. I try not to look desperate. I try to remain calm.

  “I…suppose,” he says. “But what precisely will you be doing for five months?”

  Shit, nothing gets past the king.

  I try very hard not to shuffle my feet. “I’d like to travel a little,” I say because that is the truth. I will be needing to travel. “I think that it would be good for me to see a little more of the world. It will be helpful and insightful,” I add quickly.

  He purses his lips as he considers this. “Very well. But you will run any travel plans by me first,” he commands.

  “Of course,” I say.

  “Very well. Will I see you at dinner?” he asks.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I say as I turn to leave. I make it to the door before I hear his voice again.

  “Susanna?” he says. I stop but don’t turn around.

  “I am very proud of you, my love. You have done well at your studies,” he says, he pauses for a moment before adding, “Your mother would have been proud as well.”

  I nod and leave his office, I sink against the wall just outside, using it to steady myself. “I hope she would be proud,” I whisper, unsure if that would be the case.

  Chapter 2

  I find myself in the vault as I meander the palace, contemplating my future. The vault is two stories below the ground. Two of our guards are stationed here twenty-four hours a day. The security to get inside requires a verbal passcode, face recognition, and a thumbprint. Once inside, the door slides shut behind me as the LED lights illuminate the room. Our family’s crowned jewels are displayed in sets behind bulletproof glass that only moves once I provide another set of verbal passcodes, facial recognition, and a thumbprint. So sensitive is the system, that I have to utter the passcode while completely relaxed; if the system senses a change in my voice indicating stress, it will not open.

  I take in a breath and unlock the cabinet holding the remaining pieces of my mother’s favorite set. There is still a space for her crown. It sits empty, mocking me.

  I’m startled when the door opens. A moment later, Auggie is beside me.

  “Jesus, you scared me to death,” I say. And then realize how ridiculous that is. No one but our family and security could get in here.

  He wraps an arm around my shoulder as we stand side by side, staring at the negative space that once housed our mother’s crown. Really, it’s more of a tiara, but nonetheless, it was her favorite one. She always wore it for special occasions, including the gala she had been attending the night of her car accident.

  It’s still one of our country’s greatest
mysteries. Some reported she hadn’t been wearing it when she got in the car to leave. Others claim she had it on at the accident scene. However, all that can be said for sure, is that it went missing that night and has never been located.

  At first, her missing crown bothered me because I was almost seven and fixated on trivial things. But around the age of thirteen, I became completely obsessed with locating it. I don’t know why. I don’t know what finding it will possibly fix in my broken heart. I just know that I have to find it, and I won’t rest until I do.

  And so, I used my love of computers as an excuse, a conduit of sorts, to look for the crown. A crown that is worth at least fifty million dollars on the black market. A crown that many wealthy criminals would kill to get into their collections. It’s akin to having Amelia Earhart’s plane in your living room.

  “Stop thinking about it,” Auggie says, breaking my thoughts.

  I shrug. “I’ll always think about it,” I admit.

  “She’s gone. It’s gone. Move on,” he says.

  I look up at my brother. Auggie has my father’s dark hair, as do I, but he also has my father’s dark eyes, where Chris and I have our mother’s piercing blue ones. The one thing I don’t have is height. My mother wasn’t tall, but she certainly wasn’t short. My father and brothers are all over six feet tall. But not me. I am barely five feet three inches on a good day. I look like a fairy that never grew up. I’m a stick, with small curves, small everything. The only good thing I’ve surmised from it so far is that I blend into crowds. I can throw on a hoodie and some leggings and sneak out of the palace. No one notices me. There are pluses to not being the heir or the spare.