Love or Love Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. The setting and time period doesn't exist in real life. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imaginations, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2022 by Hana Xiong

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  For future me and past me from present me

  and everyone else who enjoyed this

  Contents

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  8. Chapter 8

  9. Chapter 9

  10. Chapter 10

  11. Chapter 11

  12. Chapter 12

  13. Chapter 13

  14. Chapter 14

  15. Chapter 15

  16. Chapter 16

  17. Chapter 17

  18. Chapter 18

  19. Chapter 19

  20. Chapter 20

  21. Chapter 21

  22. Chapter 22

  23. Chapter 23

  24. Chapter 24

  25. Chapter 25

  26. Chapter 26

  27. Chapter 27

  28. Chapter 28

  29. Chapter 29

  30. Acknowledgments

  31. Warnings

  32. About Author

  It was always scary to know that our father would be gone for who knew how long. Our father was the king of Kingdom Pire. However, this time seemed even scarier because my father had announced a wedding for my younger brother, Elijah—the heir of Kingdom Pire.

  I was the oldest child of the royal Pire family and the only princess of Kingdom Pire. I wasn’t the heir or the oldest son and definitely wasn’t interested in ruling a whole kingdom. Witnessing my father grow old and gray over the years of ruling our home was enough to make me glad I’d been born a princess.

  And if our father never came back, I would have to witness my dear younger brother turn old and gray throughout the years of reigning over our home.

  That was why we were all seated at the dining table: to gain this knowledge. Red cloth ran along the middle of the white table. White wooden chairs accompanied the table. The chandelier hung low compared to the gigantic room but high enough that we couldn’t even touch it if we jumped.

  Echoes of the servers’ shoes repeated in the room on the marbled floor. Underneath our feet was a red velvet carpet. On the walls were pictures of our family, while other spots were occupied by torches we rarely used.

  I looked to my left, where my father was seated at the edge of the table. My mother sat in front of me with the tiniest smile. Her dirty-blond hair looked brown in the dark. She had a sharp pointed nose and a wrinkled forehead. Her green eyes were drowsy and darkened.

  My father sighed as he sipped a spoonful of soup. “Kingdom Fymore, our biggest ally, will be coming over in a week to begin the wedding.”

  Elijah didn’t eat while my father talked. His seat was right next to mine.

  “Elijah, my son, I assure you Princess Lillian is a beauty, a diamond to the eye.”

  “Yes, Father. But is she kind and sweet?”

  “Well, we shall find out.”

  “Father.” Elijah shifted in his seat with furrowed brown eyebrows, their color matching his fringed up hairstyle. His hold on his silverware tightened.

  “Yes, Elijah?”

  “Why couldn’t you have us meet before our wedding?”

  Our father laughed. “What’s the fun in that, son?”

  Elijah frowned at the response. Our father continued to eat cheerfully while the rest of us barely touched our plates. My mother ate slowly as she glanced around the table to see our faces. I doubted this was a surprise to her, yet she was quiet.

  “Father, when will you come back?” George, the youngest of us, asked. His brown hair was combed to the right, over his green eyes. He was the only one who’d been given green eyes by our mother. The rest of us had eyes the color of earthy brown, like the dirt that grounded the trees—gifted by our father, of course.

  Father stopped eating, and everyone sat still. We were afraid of his answer.

  “Soon, my boy. Soon.”

  Luke, the second-oldest son, smiled at our youngest sibling. His hair was longer than his brothers’ and light as our mother’s. Luke wasn’t much older than George, but he knew just enough to know the answer as well.

  I handed Luke a piece of bread spread with butter. Luke was the most delicate sibling. He would come to lunch arguing with anyone about what he’d learned and how he disagreed, his cheeks flushed like a red-hot poker. A tear would appear when he scraped his knees with no marks afterward. A tiny bump could cause such emotion from the boy.

  The first girl he’d ever confessed to rejected him, and he hadn’t talked to anyone for three days straight. I’d made him eat breakfast with me and gave him buttered toast sprinkled with a bit of cinnamon and sugar. Ever since then, that was what I always gave him when his eyes would water or flame.

  “Thank you, sister.” He started chewing on the bread like he had just bitten into fresh honey, his eyes delighted. George jumped, asking for one too. How could I resist? These were my brothers. My blood. My life. Not even forever could tear us apart, because our blood ran more than the existence of forever. It ran past our lifetime, our death, and our name’s existence. Forever was a word, but blood was a substance within the universe that I cannot share with anyone besides my family.

  “Elijah, would you like a piece as well?” I asked. He shook his head with his lips pressed together. He grabbed my fork with a perfect piece of grilled chicken and ate it instead. His lips loosened and grinned, and he winked toward me.

  “You little brat.” I pushed him and grabbed my fork back with a small laugh. He choked on his laughter as he ate my piece of chicken. Soon enough, we were all stealing one another’s food while the queen and king beamed at us, their eyes lit like the sunrise.

  This felt better. This felt right. This was the Pire family.

  The Fymores arrived sooner than I had expected. The only things I’d heard for the past few days were my brothers fighting, as usual; a bunch of ruckus as my father and his army prepared for battle and travel; and the birds chirping in the garden as if I wanted to hear them sing at sunrise. There was no sign of preparation for a wedding or for guests to come by until this day.

  My father and mother were ordering the servants like maniacs to make everything perfect to welcome the Fymores. They wanted this and that at a certain spot, and they tasted all the foods after the taste testers. Someone could always poison it afterward, but I wouldn’t put it into the picture knowing how much they were sweating to make sure everything was ready.

  I didn’t really remember the Fymores. They’d visited on my very first birthday, but I didn’t remember a single thing as a one-year-old. I went to their baby girl’s birthday, but I was only one—one and busy annoying tiny baby Elijah. It was a very faint memory. There they were: the only memories of the Fymores I recollected.

  If I’d done my math correctly, Lillian would be around my age. I’d heard her birthday was in a month or so, but those were whispers. She wasn’t so little anymore. I could not for the life of me even remember her face. Granted, the last time I had seen her she had just turned one. I needed to cut myself some slack.

  I stepped down the stairs slowly as things were being moved in the ballroom. I glanced over the thrones my parents
sat on in the living room, where our people would usually see their king and queen.

  The carpeted stairs were nice. I didn’t have to worry about slipping, but I could always fall, especially with the dresses I had to wear. I was wearing the lightest shade of blue. The bottom part of the dress flowed down my legs, and I was thankful I didn’t have to wear a wired bottom to make it fluff out. I’d never fancied those. The corset I was wearing, however, was a pain in the ass. I could barely breathe. I didn’t even know why I needed a corset with this dress.

  “Good morning, princess.” Servants started greeting me as I landed on the floor of the living room. The off-white walls had framed paintings of my family before my father. The columns were textured ever so slightly, and a red carpet led to the two thrones at the end of the room underneath the stairs. They were made of gold, silver, and steel and had velvet cushions for the most important people. There were seats on the opposite side of me, where the children sat, that had steel legs and cushions made of the same materials as the thrones. The servants were behind those chairs, carrying things to go through the hallway. I bowed my head at them with a friendly expression: smiling, eyes bent into moons, and nose scrunched.

  “Father. Mother. What time are the in-laws coming?” I walked over to them and leaned against the wall. It had been quite the walk to get there. The hallway led to two guest rooms and a bathroom. Then it led to another room, which eventually led to the ballroom a couple turns away. There were many archways to enter the huge room. The room could’ve held a whole village, honestly. There was an upper floor as well. Personally, I wondered when someone would fall from there because of their drunken bottom.

  My mother turned to me as she rested her hand on my arm. She fixed my braided hair and touched every part that seemed flawed to her, which so happened to be my hair, my lips, and my cheek. “Victoria, honey, please take the time to look good in front of the Fymores.”

  “Mother, I’m perfectly fine the way I am. See?” I twirled around in my dress with a grin. She rolled her eyes with an effortless begonia-pink smile on her face. I wouldn’t have been able to recognize the different shades of pink my mother wore if she were not my mother. Her smile had shone above my face when I woke as a child and in the mirror as she brushed my hair. It was quite familiar to me. She was the sunrise to a teeny bud that was me.

  “Perfectly fine in that snobbish brain of yours. They’ll be coming in an hour, so I need you to get ready. Amber! Please fix my daughter.” She pushed me away. My father turned to look at me, and I waved at him with a small greeting. His grin was ever so bright as he greeted me back while I was dragged away to my room. We went a completely different path than what I had taken to get down here.

  Amber started undressing me gently. Her curly black hair moved around underneath my nose as she did so. Her warm brown skin was like a strong tree standing tall while I was the pale snow burying her roots. She always made sure to ask if it was okay, and who was I to complain? I didn’t have to do the tiring work of undressing myself. Of course it was okay.

  Amber was my mother’s handmaiden. She was the same age as Elijah. I remembered us playing a few times when our mothers were busy preparing for political things or lady things. I wouldn’t know, as they were all faint memories.

  “How’s your mother?” I asked through the silence. She stopped loosening the strings of the corset to look at me through the mirror.

  “She’s gotten better, princess. I have the queen to thank for that.”

  “Just call me Victoria. We grew up together. Sort of.”

  “It would be rude of me, princess.”

  I shrugged. She took off my corset. I stood naked, and the air hit every part of my body, raising bumps on my skin. I wanted to wrap myself from the unfamiliar breeze against my flesh. However, I just stood there waiting for something to happen. I didn’t know how my mother wanted me to look, but it seemed like Amber did.

  The girl cleaned me with a wet cloth, then gently rubbed scented oils on me. I inhaled through my nose to take in the scent. Rose. Of course. I looked back at my bed, where Amber had placed the dress my mother had chosen for me. It was a red velvet dress that folded and flowed down in a puff. It wasn’t a big puff, which would’ve needed those despicable wires, but a barely blooming rose.

  “Why did my mother ask you to come do this?” I asked. Amber gave me a shrug, and her eyes looked over my body once.

  “I assume your maid is busy, miss.”

  “Analise is never busy under my supervision.”

  “I believe the queen asked her to help around the ball.”

  “Poor girl.” I let out a small chuckle. Amber returned the chuckle with a smile before putting a strapless undershirt on me. It wrapped around my body but was much looser than a corset. Thank the heavens.

  The dress was finally put on me, and everything was just about done besides my hair. I sat down, and Amber silently did it. Her eyes never crossed mine as I stared at the pages on my desk. They were pages of empty words because I couldn’t think of anything to write. My mother had made me write a narrative for a story she’d made me read, but I hadn’t been able to think of anything. The book was a total bore.

  I looked up once again to catch Amber’s eyes and broke the silence. “Do you think Princess Lillian is pretty?”

  “I am certain she’ll be as beautiful as everyone makes her seem.”

  “What are people saying about this endearing sister-in-law of mine?”

  “Many things, Your Highness. Some say she could even turn a beast into a human with how beautiful she looks.”

  I hummed. What an extraordinary way to describe one’s beauty. I took it and stayed silent until Amber said she was done. I thanked her before we both walked down the stairs to the ballroom once again.

  Everything was all set up. The lights shimmered, and the band was ready to play on the stage in a corner. My brothers were dressed up, and all the dukes and duchesses had arrived. I walked to my seat next to my mother’s throne as the rest of my brothers sat in a row next to my father’s.

  This was going to be an interesting next few days.

  Violins were playing while the keys to the piano flowed into a gentle melody. The room opened up for the guests we had all been waiting for: the Fymores.

  I had to say, Lillian was a beauty. Her black hair flowed down her shoulders as her dress lay on her body. Her waist looked just big enough for me to wrap my arms around her if I did so. The dress she wore was sky blue and was painted on her body like a wave. The back of her dress flowed to her ankles but never hit the backs of her heels. She had sparkling dark eyes and kept her fingers wired together as she walked behind her grinning parents at the welcome.

  “Lucien! What a sight.” King Fymore hugged my father. He opened his arms to my mother as well. The two ladies did the same to each other as they began to talk about their dresses. My mother had her hair straightened and let it flow beautifully over her shoulders. Our hair was very much alike: silky, straight, and thick. My father had rather thin hair; it never grew out much.

  “It’s a wonderful night to see you too, James,” my father replied.

  I stood up at the same time as my brothers, and we all went to greet the royals of Fymore. I got a hug from both of them.

  “Oh, dear, you give great hugs!” James Fymore said.

  I chuckled in short, awkward takes. “I have had a lot of practice, Your Majesty.” I reached my hand out to my brothers, and they greeted the king in the same way. The queen hugged me and said how beautiful I looked. I did the same to her. She giggled with a blush on her mocha-colored cheeks.

  Princess Lillian was next to greet me. I reached my hand out for her to shake instead. She didn’t seem like the type to give hugs as freely as her parents. She closed herself off with the way her hands wrinkled behind her back. She stood there, frozen; a hug just didn’t seem to be on her list.

  A grin appeared on her face as she realized she was supposed to shake my hand. She looked a
lot like her mother; however, they had their differences, as mothers and daughters do. Her face shape, perhaps. I didn’t know, but I could’ve stared at her all night.

  “Greetings to you, Princess Lillian,” I said as we shook hands. She held on firmly as if she would never let go.

  “Greetings, Princess Victoria,” she said. Her hand in mine felt light as a cloud but warm as the sun. I wanted to bathe in the comfort for as long as I could. She blinked at me, and I stared. Her mouth opened and closed before it opened again. “I’m sorry, but when do we let go?”

  I laughed without a thought of how loud I would be or where I was. Hearing my laugh echo made me clear my throat. The eyes of my family and her family were upon me. I let go of her hand and let out a few more giggles beneath my hand. Her face was powdered in the prettiest pink, and she wrapped her hands together and fidgeted.

  “You let go after you do one or two shakes,” I whispered to her as she started moving to my mother. She stopped walking to nod at me with one of the prettiest smiles I had ever seen on a person.

  Apparently, my mother didn’t want to shake hands, and they hugged instead. Well, it turned out that everyone hugged her instead of shaking her hand. It made me look like a bit of a jerk. That was why I shouldn’t listen to my gut about things; it only led me to being the stupid one. I shook my head mentally as time went along without pause.

  After all the formal announcements of our two kingdoms merging with the marriage, the ball began. Music played, drinks were passed out with people already fumbling, food was warmed up on the long line of dinner tables, and people laughed. With the floating thought that the king of Kingdom Pire would soon be off fighting a war that wasn’t even his to begin with, this was nice. These moments needed to be filled with happiness to avoid the despair.

  I sat down at my spot with a small drink in my hand. I had no clue if it was booze or not, but I drank it. Elijah was out on the dance floor with his bride-to-be. It was adorable, really. His navy blue suit had just enough shiny stones to light under the chandeliers. His hair was still in the way he always had it up. He was smiling with a girl.