ALEX'S POV
The assassination threat arrived during breakfast.
My security chief, Marcus, slid the tablet across the table just as I was biting into toast. The message was short and simple: "The crown prince dies today. Long live the revolution."
"Seventeenth one this month," I said, pushing the tablet back. "Is there actual credible intel, or is this another teenager with a manifesto?"
Marcus's jaw tightened. "We're taking it seriously, Your Highness. Especially with the lottery winner arriving today. The timing is suspicious."
I almost laughed. "You think some poor scholarship student is here to assassinate me? Have you seen her file?"
"That's exactly why it's suspicious, sir. Jade Morrison didn't apply for the lottery. Her sister did, using her identity. Morrison has no social media, no digital footprint beyond basic employment records. She's a ghost."
That made me pause. "So she's either very good at hiding, or she's exactly what she appears to be—a normal person who got dragged into this."
"We won't know until she arrives." Marcus stood, straightening his suit. "Your schedule today is packed. Security briefing at 0700, diplomatic protocol review at 0800, then the lottery winner's official welcome ceremony at 1000 hours. After that—"
"After that, I have Advanced Political Theory, followed by lunch with the Norwegian ambassador's daughter, then fencing practice, then a video call with my father about the upcoming summit." I recited it perfectly because my life was the same thing every single day. Scheduled. Controlled. Suffocating.
Marcus nodded, satisfied. "Don't forget—Camilla requested a meeting during your free period."
My stomach dropped. "I don't have free periods."
"She was quite insistent, sir."
Of course she was. Camilla Beaumont, my ex-fiancée, hadn't accepted that our arranged engagement was over. For six months, she'd been "accidentally" running into me, sending me letters, showing up at family events. My father loved her. The council loved her. Everyone thought we were perfect together.
Everyone except me.
"Tell her I'm busy," I said.
"I've told her that for three weeks, Your Highness. She's threatening to speak to your father directly."
Great. Just great.
I stood, buttoning my jacket with sharp, angry movements. "Fine. Five minutes. That's all she gets."
Marcus looked like he wanted to argue but knew better. I was the crown prince. Future king. I didn't have time for ex-girlfriends who couldn't take a hint.
The security briefing was boring. Same threats, different day. Radical groups who hated the monarchy. Foreign agents trying to destabilize our country. Jealous nobles who thought they deserved the throne more than I did.
I stopped listening after the first five minutes.
Instead, I found myself staring at the file on Jade Morrison. The lottery winner. The girl who didn't want to be here.
Her employee photo stared back at me—tired eyes, messy hair pulled into a bun, wearing a coffee-stained uniform. She looked exhausted. Defeated. Nothing like the polished, ambitious students who usually attended Regency Academy.
"She's not a threat," I said, interrupting whatever Marcus was saying about security protocols.
Everyone in the room turned to look at me.
"Excuse me, Your Highness?" Marcus asked.
I tapped the photo. "Jade Morrison. She works night shifts at a café to support her younger sister. Her mother died two years ago from cancer—they couldn't afford treatment. She dropped out of college to pay bills. Does that sound like someone plotting to kill me?"
"Desperate people do desperate things," Marcus said carefully.
"Desperate people survive. They don't waste time on assassination plots." I closed the file. "She's probably terrified right now. Forced to leave her life behind for some school she never asked to attend. The last thing she's thinking about is hurting anyone."
The room went silent. I realized I'd been defending a stranger. A scholarship student. Someone I'd normally ignore completely.
Why did I care?
I cleared my throat. "Just... don't treat her like a criminal. She's been through enough."
I was heading to my next class when Camilla cornered me in the hallway.
She appeared out of nowhere, blocking my path with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her perfume was too strong, too familiar. It used to make me feel safe. Now it made me feel trapped.
"Alex! Finally. You've been avoiding me."
"I've been busy, Camilla."
"Too busy for five minutes?" She stepped closer, her hand reaching for my arm. "We need to talk about us."
"There is no us." I pulled away. "We broke up six months ago."
Her smile cracked. "Our parents arranged our engagement when we were children. You can't just end it because you're having a phase."
"A phase?" Anger burned in my chest. "Camilla, I don't love you. I never did. We were friends once, but that's all we'll ever be."
"You loved me enough to propose."
"I didn't propose. Our parents announced our engagement at a state dinner without asking either of us first. I was seventeen years old."
Her eyes filled with tears—calculated, perfect tears that used to make me feel guilty. "So that's it? Four years together meant nothing?"
"We were never together. We were... convenient." The words came out harsher than I meant, but they were true. "I'm sorry, Camilla. I really am. But I won't marry someone I don't love just because it makes good political sense."
"Your father will never allow you to break this engagement."
"My father doesn't control who I marry."
Camilla's tears disappeared instantly, replaced by something cold and sharp. "You'll regret this, Alex. I've given you everything, and you're throwing it away for what? Freedom? Love?" She laughed bitterly. "You're a crown prince. You don't get those things."
She walked away, her heels clicking against the marble floor like gunshots.
I stood there, breathing hard, wondering why I felt like I'd just made a terrible mistake.
My phone buzzed. A message from Marcus: "Morrison has arrived. She's being processed in the main office. Ceremony starts in 20 minutes."
I headed toward the auditorium where the welcome ceremony would take place. Students were already gathering, whispering excitedly about the lottery winner. Most of them had never met a "regular" person before. To them, Jade Morrison would be like a zoo animal—interesting to observe, fun to mock.
I should feel nothing about this. I'd seen nineteen lottery winners come and go over the years. Most of them dropped out within three months, unable to handle the pressure and isolation. The ones who stayed usually became bitter and resentful, or they transformed into social climbers desperate to fit in.
Jade Morrison would probably be the same.
So why did I feel... protective?
I shook the thought away and walked into the auditorium. I had a speech to give, a smile to fake, and a perfect image to maintain.
I was almost to my seat when my phone buzzed again.
Another message from Marcus: "Problem. Morrison is refusing to leave the car. She's demanding to speak with whoever is blackmailing her about her sister."
My blood went cold.
Blackmail? What blackmail?
I pulled up her file again, scanning through the details I'd missed before. And there it was, buried in the notes section: "Subject secured via coercion protocol. Sister Victoria Morrison faced potential fraud charges for lottery identity theft. Subject agreed to attend to protect family member."
They'd threatened her. The academy—MY academy—had blackmailed a grieving girl who'd already lost everything.
Rage flooded through me so fast I couldn't breathe.
I was supposed to give a welcome speech in fifteen minutes. I was supposed to smile and shake her hand and pretend everything was fine.
Instead, I turned and ran toward the main entrance.
I didn't know why I was running. I didn't know what I was going to do when I got there.
I just knew that Jade Morrison was about to walk into a trap, and for some reason I couldn't explain, I needed to warn her.
I burst through the main doors just as a black car pulled up.
The door opened.
And my entire world shifted.