As I board the private plane for America, I glance back at the medieval castle where I lived in luxury for nearly six months.
I guess I should thank him for banishing me in style, a departing gift as he exiles me back to a trailer in an overgrown lot, a drunkard grandfather, and a minimum wage job that will barely keep the two of us fed.
Three of us now.
The future queen is barren. I leave with the satisfaction that she will never give him an heir.
And when the time comes, my son will be a king.
© Nortina Simmons
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