Forbidden Throne: An LGBTQ+ Fantasy Novella

by Jennifer Laslie

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  About the Author

  Other Books by Jennifer Laslie

  Not all Queens need a King.

  As the youngest daughter of seven, Rosalyn never had the luxury of wearing pretty dresses like her sisters. From the moment of birth, she was kept hidden away, only to later be presented to the kingdom as the next male to rule after her late father, King Byron.

  With her coronation but a week away, bordering countries flocked to the castle in hopes of a match with Prince Stefan. Rosalyn wanted none of that. But as soon as Helena, the dragon princess, stepped through the doors of the great hall, a burning desire consumed her, setting into motion events that would turn her world upside down.

  Could her kingdom accept her as a ruling queen without a king, or would she be forced to renounce her title? But Rosalyn isn’t as concerned with that as she is about Helena finding out her true identity. Because as fated mates, would Helena reject her for being a woman?

  Chapter 1

  “I am not kissing a girl!” My face burned with humiliation at the insinuation my older sister made. “Mother said I’m only to flirt and make them feel pretty.”

  Astrid shrugged. “Rosalyn, I’m just saying that if you were so inclined, you could. How else would you get your first kiss while parading around the castle as a boy?”

  How did I answer that? I didn’t. Instead, I winced as Astrid tugged my beautiful chocolate strands into submission by braiding them. She then wrapped the two braids she’d made around my head and pinned them in place.

  “Hold still,” Astrid said, holding my ear in a death grip as she made the last adjustments with her other hand.

  My scalp tingled from all the hair pulling. I glared at the finely woven raven-colored britches and the fancy, light gray frilled shirt draped across my bed. “I don’t understand what all the fuss is about. Who cares if other countries are visiting?” I knew my coronation was a big deal. I just didn’t look forward to the restricting clothes.

  “Time for your wig.” Astrid picked up the hairpiece from the vanity amidst the makeup I rarely got to wear.

  My grumblings carried around the bed chamber, but they’d not change the outcome. The short, wavy hair matched my natural hair perfectly. That way, if any of my own hair peeked through, it wouldn’t be as noticeable.

  Astrid situated the wig on my head, tugged it this way and that, and finally got everything lined up perfectly. Her deft fingers combed through the fake hair and styled it, so it parted on the right.

  I stared at the stranger in the mirror. I always felt like I was inhabiting a body not my own whenever Astrid put my wig on. I’d have to put up with this charade my whole life if I wanted to rule a kingdom. One I hadn’t even asked for.

  “Up, up. Let’s get your chest wrapped.”

  “Can I breathe for a few more minutes before you constrict my lungs?” I asked.

  Astrid’s shoulders sagged. “I suppose. Let me go get Lora so she can help me.”

  I sucked in all the air I could, knowing it would be hard won over the course of the evening. My sisters complained about their corsets cutting off their air supply, but I’d never get to experience that form of torture. Instead, my ample chest would be flattened to hide my gender from the rest of the kingdom.

  I was the youngest of seven girls. My sisters — Brigid, Astrid, Penny, Serenity, Ren, and Lora — were all able to be themselves. They dressed up in expensive fabrics that cinched their waist and flowed down to the floor in glorious finery while I wore pants. They used rouge and pastel eye shadows to highlight their cheekbones and eyes, while all I could do was apply minimal makeup.

  “Good morning,” Lora said, as she breezed into my room with Astrid in tow. She glanced at the clothing on the bed. “That gray is going to make your eyes pop. All the girls will be swooning in your presence.”

  “I’d rather they leave me alone.” I stood up from the bench and stepped over to the canopy bed. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Don’t look so glum.” Lora picked up the binding strip and held one end out to Astrid. “I’d kill to be able to rule a kingdom.”

  “You can have it.” I held my arms up while two of my older sisters squeezed me tight with fabric.

  Astrid tsked. “If Lora had been born a male, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  Lora was only a couple of years older than me, making her the second youngest sister. Nine times out of ten, I wished I’d been born before her so she could be the one to endure this journey.

  “If she’d been born a male, I wouldn’t be the one getting ogled by all the girls in the village when Mom takes me to the market.” I cast my gaze to the floor, trying to pull off irritated, but if I was being honest with myself, I found the attention flattering.

  Some of the girls in the village were pretty, but none of that mattered when I needed to keep my identity a secret and take my place as the next heir to the throne.

  In a week, I’d be crowned. Not only would this mop of fake hair weigh heavy on my head, so would the crown placed on top of it. My life would never be my own.

  “I wonder how many marriage proposals you’ll receive,” Lora said.

  A snort escaped me before I could hold it back. “I’m supposed to be the one proposing, not them.”

  “True,” Astrid said. “But you know how mothers can be. They’ll push their daughters to do crazy things.”

  “Like dress up as a boy?” I’d laugh, except I didn’t find it in the least bit funny.

  “With Father gone, you know you’re our only chance of keeping the throne.” Lora secured the strip in place. “There. Now it’s time for your shirt.”

  “I know.” I lowered my arms, only to have to raise them again as I slipped them into the sleeves of the gray shirt. Frills frothed from my neck down to the middle of the shirt, enough to cover my chest and hide the bindings. They also helped conceal anything that couldn’t be made completely flat.

  My breasts ached and I could barely draw in a breath.

  “Britches are next.” Lora held them open for me to step into. Then she worked to get all the buttons on the front done up.

  “Could you imagine everyone’s face if I wore a dress?” I asked.

  Astrid’s eyes grew as big as the cupcakes Ms. Mabel baked every Saturday.

  “Don’t even joke about stuff like that. If Mom—” Astrid stopped short and swallowed as the door opened.

  “If Mom, what?” Queen Lillith asked as she stepped into the room.

  Lora dipped her head in respect. “Rosalyn was just saying how much she admires our dresses and wishes she could wear one.”

  “Nonsense. Wearing the pants in this kingdom is the best position you can be in.” Mother cleared her throat and stood up straighter. “I only came in to tell you that the guests have begun to arrive.”

  “Who?” I asked, butterflies swarming in my stomach.

  Mother shrugged. “A caravan has been spotted, but the pennant can’t be made out. They should be here within the hour. Make sure you’re downstairs before then.” She turned, her dress swirling around her ankles, and left me and my sisters alone once again.

  “I swear she’s harder on you than any of the rest of us.” Astrid straightened the gray frills at my collar and then placed her hands on my shoulders. “Take a deep breath.”


  “I can’t.” My chest ached already. Today was going to be a long day as mothers paraded their daughters in front of me in hopes of a match.

  Astrid clucked her tongue. “Nonetheless, close your eyes and calm your mind. This week is not the end of the world.”

  Week. I’d have to dress in this getup for an entire week until my coronation. As the only male heir, I wasn’t allowed to show weakness, but all I wanted to do was cry.

  I stood and headed toward the door.

  “Stefan?” Astrid said, using my pseudo name. She knew even in my private quarters, once I was disguised, she should use that name instead.

  Annoyed, I turned and leveled a glare at her. “What?”

  She pointed to my feet. “Shouldn’t you put shoes on?”

  I stomped over to a chair and shoved my feet into a pair of shoes.

  Astrid arched a single eyebrow. “No hose?”

  “No, I’ll be fine without them.”

  “Nonsense.” Astrid knelt at my feet, pulled my shoes off, and proceeded to put my hose on, and then my shoes. She tied the laces extra tight. “There.”

  “Thank you.” I closed my eyes and took the deepest breath I could, all things considered. “You know, most days you treat me better than my own mother.”

  Astrid stood and smoothed out her dress. “She means well. After Father’s passing, a lot of responsibility was hefted onto her shoulders. Without you to take the crown, we’d lose our kingdom. Either another country would challenge us, or a distant male family member would lay claim to the title.”

  As my sister began to wander toward the door, I rose from my seat and followed. “I know. I know. But I’ll never be able to produce an heir, not naturally. The line ends with me.”

  “We’ll figure that out when the time comes.” Astrid laid a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get downstairs before Mother sends a search party.”

  I grabbed Astrid’s hand and removed it from my shoulder, but I didn’t release it. Instead, I gripped it like a lifeline. “Please don’t leave my side today.”

  “How would it look if I stayed by your side all day?” Astrid squeezed my hand. “You’ll do fine.”

  “I’m glad you have faith in me.”

  “I do.” Astrid held the door for me. “Think of it as a game. A king can rule without a queen. They have that luxury, but if you don’t at least act interested, there will be talk. Fool everyone into thinking you are who you say you are. Leave no doubt and the prize will be a life of privilege.”

  As I walked out of my bedroom, I wondered if I could play the game or if the game would play me.

  Chapter 2

  Dust rose from the road in the distance as I stared over the parapet. A blue banner flapped in the breeze through my spyglass. Our neighbors would be the first to arrive. The bordering country of Jenisa had a tentative alliance with us. We traded grain and spices with them.

  I’d never met their princess. Anytime we had meetings with them, they sent a delegate to negotiate. I lowered the spyglass and I wondered if the princess could eventually be a friend. I didn’t have many of those. But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it could never happen. I’d never truly have any friends outside of the castle, not if I couldn’t be myself. They’d only ever know an illusion of me, their minds clouded with thoughts of snaring me into marriage so they could be Queen of Sulenia.

  I was more than my title. More than the next King of Sulenia. As I glanced at all the people gathered on either side of me, I felt more alone than ever.

  “Open the gates,” the Queen commanded.

  The cloud of dust had crept ever closer until the caravan was almost upon us.

  I stood silent with my sisters surrounding me, wind rustling my fake hair, and watched the red carriage in the middle of the line race forward, all while a flurry of activity bustled around me.

  Guards rushed down the stone stairs to do my mother’s bidding. Maids lifted their skirts and hurried off to make sure the last-minute touches were done to each of the guest rooms.

  Mother shooed Brigid out of the way and stepped up beside me to watch the road. “Don’t mess this up,” she said, not even bothering to look in my direction.

  “Why would I ever dare to do that?” Even if she wouldn’t glance at me, I’d glare a hole through the side of her face. “My whole life teeters on the edge of this charade. One misstep and I’ll fall to my disgrace. Isn’t that what you told me the other day?”

  “I’m only reminding you that your life isn’t the only one at stake here.” Those cold, calculating green eyes finally turned my way. “You have a whole kingdom depending on you.”

  Her words cut deeper than any sword could have. She used my conscience against me. People depended on me to keep the peace, people who didn’t realize I was a fraud.

  I stepped past my mother and took the stairs to the courtyard. Finding a spot in front of the crowd, I held my head high and waited for the Princess of Jenisa to arrive.

  Hooves clacked against the cobblestone as several carriages entered the courtyard and circled the fountain.

  As the noise settled down and the crowd hushed, a footman opened the carriage door and out stepped the Princess of Jenisa dressed in a hideous burnt orange dress with white lace covering every inch. Her reddish hair was pulled into a twist behind her head and secured with simple wooden sticks. She daintily held onto the footman’s hand and stepped to the ground as if it would burn her alive.

  Her brown eyes scanned those gathered until they landed on me. A sly smile spread across the Princess’s face as she raised her chin and walked my way in a swirl of orange disarray.

  “Welcome to Sulenia,” said my mother, the Queen. She elbowed me and cleared her throat.

  I hadn’t noticed my mother had joined me.

  Resisting the urge to glare at her again, I bowed low to the princess. “Yes, welcome to Sulenia,” I said in a low, gruff voice. My whole life had been voice lessons, not to perfect my singing, but to train my vocal cords to sound like a man.

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Prince Stefan. My name is Narina Bradford.” Her curtsy was just as daintily executed as her exit from the carriage, small and light.

  If only her dress was a lighter shade. Maybe in Jenisa, they loved grotesque colors?

  “I look forward to getting to know you better and finding out more about your country.” Narina held out her hand as if expecting me to kiss the back of it.

  I ignored her outstretched hand until she dropped it to her side with a sneer.

  “Stefan would love that as well, Narina.” The Queen swept her hand toward the castle doors, shooing people back into activity, and the crowd disbursed. “How about a horseback ride to see some of our wonderful views?”

  My heart dropped into my stomach. I did not want to spend any amount of time with this girl. Yet, the words I’d heard this morning rang through my head. Make them feel pretty.

  If I wanted to avoid any suspicions, I needed to play my role.

  “Yes, I can have two horses brought around if that would suit you.” I plastered on my best smile.

  Narina’s hand fluttered to her chest, her sparse lashes fluttering coyly. “A horse ride around the countryside sounds marvelous.”

  I held out an arm for her and she looped her own through the opening.

  Behind us followed one of her maids as an escort, her head bowed respectfully, and hands clasped in front of her demurely.

  We arrived at the stables and had three horses readied for our ride.

  “I can’t wait to see your emerald-green fields. They’re the talk of the continent.” Narina stood by her horse, hand on the horse’s side, and waited for me to offer her assistance while she chatted. She checked out her feet and then glanced up at the saddle, trying to convey her need.

  I eyed her a moment. “They are indeed the greenest in the land. Some even border on a bluish color.”

  “Fascinating,” Narina said as she lifted a booted foot and wiggled i
t in the air. She wanted me to give her a boost with my hands, but I could still be a gentleman, even with not helping her in that way. I grabbed one of the stools by the stable doors and set it in front of her.

  Narina’s eyes grew wide, but she said nothing. Simple grabbed the pommel of the saddle as she stepped up on the stool and hoisted herself up to sit sidesaddle.

  I did the same for her maid and then returned the stool to its rightful place before easily lifting myself onto my own horse. “Would you like to see the lake or perhaps check out the orchards?”

  “Can we pick our own fruit?” Narina asked.

  Kicking my horse into a canter, I nodded. “If you’d like.”

  Narina’s horse caught up to mine and she expertly guided the horse as close to me as she could. Her legs brushed against one of mine. “You’re very handsome.”

  “Thank you.” I dipped my head.

  Silence hung between us as she stared at me a moment, then huffed and looked forward.

  All I could think of was how vain she must be if she had to offer me a compliment in hopes of her own.

  Our horses brought us to the end of the road where a fence met acre after acre of green rolling hills.

  I dismounted and guided my horse to the other side, then ushered the two girls through. Closing the gate behind me, I caught Narina giving me a once over. Did she know underneath this gray shirt were the same parts as her? My breasts ached from their constricted wrap.

  Back on my horse, I guided our group toward the orchard. The ride would only take a few minutes up the fence line.

  “What types of fruits do you grow?” asked the maid.

  Narina cut her a stern look and the maid looked away.

  “That’s a good question.” I arched an eyebrow at Narina. “Is she not allowed to talk?”

  Narina squared her shoulders. “She is to be seen, not heard.”