A Guiding Light Read online

  A Guiding Light

  A Royal States Novel

  Susan Copperfield

  A Guiding Light

  A Royal States Novel

  by Susan Copperfield

  In the Royal States of America, magic rules all, but life—and love—always finds a way.

  Once upon a time, Adam had been betrothed to North Dakota’s heir, and she’d been his everything, his reason for living. Failing to develop his parents’ talents, he’s stripped of his rank and shipped to a remote corner of the kingdom to live out the rest of his life as a shamed outcast.

  Defying the realities of his new caste and hiding his love for the one woman he can’t have, Adam turns to the stock markets, ghosting through the financial world in search of purpose. Trouble comes calling when his beloved’s little brother shows up on his doorstep. Adam’s first mistake is inviting in the royal runaway. His second is listening to the child’s plight, learning of New York’s plan to crash North Dakota’s stock market and incite rebellion.

  Unless Adam does something to stop the rival kingdom, his former betrothed will become the property of another man. Unwilling to see her reduced to a trophy bride and unable let her go without a fight, Adam pits his love and fortunes against the influence and power of kings.

  Should Adam falter, North Dakota will lose more than a princess: it will fall to civil war.

  Copyright © 2017 by Susan Copperfield

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Lori Grundy

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Foreword

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Susan Copperfield

  Susan writing as RJ Blain - Magical Romantic Comedies (with a body count)

  From RJ Blain’s Witch & Wolf World

  Other Stories by RJ Blain

  Foreword

  Dear reader,

  Underaged marriage is a serious problem within the United States (and other parts of the world.) In Null and Void, I touched on this current practice. Yes, it's a current practice in the United States.

  When I wrote Null and Void, my intention was to bring this practice to light, taking what is (questionably) the best-case scenario and using it to showcase the issue, which at its base level, is horrific.

  In Texas, current laws allow estranged (IE, runaway) children to marry anyone they choose as long as they are 16 years of age or older. In Null and Void, I changed this law to 15 with parental consent, which is a current law in the following states: Hawaii, North Dakota, Utah, West Virginia, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Washington.*

  Washington requires a superior court judge waiver.

  Many other states allow 16 with parental consent. There are states with younger than 15. Tennessee has a history of marrying ten year old girls to adult men.

  In the case of pregnancy, the following states have no limitations on the age a girl can be married: Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Delaware, Florida, Idaho, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Nevada, New Jersey, New Mexico, Ohio, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Tennessee, Washington, West Virginia, Wyoming, and Massachusetts.

  Georgia, Maryland, and a handful of other states have rulings on pregnant girls being married at 14 or 15+ years of age (with or without parental consent.) The rules vary by state.

  This arc was not a mistake. It was not a glorification of the issue, either.

  It is a social commentary about how current laws can dramatically harm our society. The Royal States world is a post-dystopian society that embraced elements of extremism.

  Before change can happen in the Royal States world, it must be faced.

  In the Captive King, this issue is revisited, and some of the more astute readers will be able to identify the shift against child marriage in the society.

  In A Guiding Light, this issue is faced in blunt clarity.

  Including this arc was not a decision made lightly. The inclusion of a society following this practice is not a reflection of the author’s personal beliefs.

  For more information on the problem of child marriage in the United States, American Child Bride is a book you may wish to check out of the library or order from your favorite bookstore. It touches on the history of this issue.

  However, you can simply verify the truth on google or with your local government law offices. While I don't typically recommend wikipedia, due to the easy nature of age verifications for marriage, it's a good starting point for those interested in learning more about this issue.

  Thirty-six states permit minors to be married if they meet certain requirements. These requirements vary but may include pregnancy (consensual or otherwise,) parental consent, and common law circumstances.

  Thank you for reading.

  Disclaimer: Laws change on a yearly basis, so these rulings were valid at the time this foreword was written.

  Chapter One

  Had I been a wiser man, I would’ve punted His Highness’s scrawny ass to the curb instead of inviting him in. The royal pain in my ass, twelve years old and the youngest child of North Dakota’s monarchs, swore he’d be useful, promised to sleep on my tattered couch without complaint, and attempted to bribe me with doing my chores.

  I remembered being his age; when I’d stooped to offering to do someone else’s chores, it was serious business.

  As I didn’t want my neighbors figuring out I was harboring a prince, I held open the door. Before I could say a word, Prince Marshal darted inside, skidded to a halt, and started stuffing hundred dollar bills into my pockets.

  I closed my door with one hand and pinched the bridge of my nose with the other. While the first day after my construction job ended for the year always threw me for a loop, I’d never been blindsided by royalty before. What the hell was I supposed to do with a prince, and what was the maximum penalty for harboring him? Would I be sentenced to life in prison, or would I earn a quick execution?

  “You’ll let me stay, won’t you?” Prince Marshal shoved a few more bills into my pockets, ran out of room, and stared at the crumpled wad of cash left in his hands. “Please.”

  I wasn’t equipped to handle a child. I could barely handle myself. Kicking him to the curb would’ve been wiser—and safer—for both of us. “Are you insane? You live in Fargo. This is Hettinger. That’s over five hours away from Fargo. Why are you here?”

  I’d never met the kid in my life; I’d been long gone from his family before he’d been born. That someone from the royal family, even a kid, had noticed me undid all the hard work I’d done convincing myself they were out of my life permanently.

  A member of the royal family showing up on my doorstep was a direct violation of my strict rule to keep anything royal out of my life.

  Prince Marshal grinned at me, stood on his toes, and stuffed more bills into my shirt pocket. “I st
owed away on a mail truck. It was easy. I hid.”

  Great. The prince had developed his mother’s talent early. He’d probably pack a punch down the line, disappearing on his whim. His talent, a rare twist on an illuminator’s talent, made him the ideal troublemaker. Instead of being a guiding light, he tricked those around him into believing he wasn’t there.

  With a strong enough talent, he’d even be able to fool cameras.

  “Why did you run away, and why on Earth would you run away to here?” Snagging a prince by the back of neck would land me in prison, but I hauled him to the couch I’d be sleeping on because I couldn’t stand the thought of the kid being poked with busted springs throughout the night. I shoved him down, crossed my arms over my chest, and glared at him. “Start talking.”

  The brat dared to giggle. Great, just great. I was over six feet tall, he was scrawny and needed to have a few milkshakes poured down his throat, and he thought I was funny. I should’ve moved and covered my tracks. There was only one place I could think of he could’ve gotten my address: I’d made the stupid mistake of sending a letter to my parents. They’d tried to contact me three times, but I’d used a return to sender stamp denoting an invalid address to discourage them.

  I’d thought my ploy had worked.

  Obviously, it hadn’t.

  “Giggling is not talking.”

  “I stole your address from my sister.”

  The last person I wanted to talk about was Her Royal Highness Princess Veronica, the woman I was cursed to love for the rest of my life. Instead of developing my parents’ rare talents and their elite rank, I’d gotten a dose of empathy and barely enough illumination to find the bathroom in the middle of the night.

  Only my doctor knew I was a leech, and he only knew so he could prescribe the medications meant to dull the symptoms of an unrequited bond. He thought the therapy was working.

  I played along with his belief, hoping for the day Dr. Berriner would authorize the nullification that would finally free me, in truth, from the royal family’s affairs.

  Prince Marshal showing up on my doorstep had not been part of my plans.

  I held my breath and waited for the unsettled feeling in my chest to subside. “How did your sister get my address?”

  “She’s stalking you.” Prince Marshal dumped the money in his hands onto my scuffed coffee table and fished more bills out of his pockets, adding to the crumpled collection. “Mom says I eat through money; I brought this so I’m not a burden.”

  I understood. At his age, I’d been convinced I’d one day rule North Dakota with his sister, and I’d thrown myself into my responsibilities so I wouldn’t disappoint anyone. I wasn’t sure what to think of his claim my once betrothed was stalking me, but I didn’t like it.

  Her even thinking about me was another direct violation of my rule to be completely uninvolved with royals.

  Hell had found its way to my door in the form of a young prince. The problems of my past would have to stand in line behind more practical matters. “If you’re expecting gourmet cooking, you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “You’re not going to call Mom and Dad? Or the cops?”

  I clacked my teeth together, ground them for a while, and sighed. It came out more of a growl than anything else. “I don’t know your parents’ number, nor do I want to know it. I also don’t want to deal with the cops—or get arrested—so you better start talking, kid. Why are you here? Why did you run away? Why would you steal my address from your sister? How the hell did she even get my address?”

  I grunted at my slip, although I considered it a miracle I’d managed to ask so many questions without a single fuck slipping out. A plethora of fucks waited for my use, and as soon as he was out of earshot, I intended to use them all.

  For eighteen years, I’d stayed off the radar, dodging anyone and anything that might link me to Fargo, the royal family, or my family. I’d jumped through a lot of hoops to maintain my privacy, although I’d put in most of my effort keeping my business life segregated from my personal one. After I dealt with the royal problem on my couch, I’d go over my work and ensure the royal family couldn’t trace me any more than they already had.

  As soon as I returned the kid back to where he belonged, I’d disappear again, and I’d do a better job of it.

  Damn it, I’d gotten too complacent.

  “I didn’t steal your address. I copied it. It was on an old envelope she’d stolen from someone. Nobody touches her envelope. I wrote it down while she was sleeping so she wouldn’t murder me for touching her envelope.”

  Yep, the letter to my parents was biting me in the ass again. I really should’ve moved after sending the letter, which had contained a repayment for every cent they’d invested in me when after they’d sent me away at fifteen, a failure for not producing the talents required for me to be wed to Veronica and rule North Dakota at her side.

  Why would any of them come to me after so many years? “Why come to me?”

  Prince Marshal dumped more cash on my coffee table and refused to look me in the eyes. “My sister said I could trust you.”

  Princess Veronica was addled. Why would she trust me? Any sane person would list me as a high risk. I had more reasons than not to hate the royal family. If anything happened to any of them, I’d be one of the first people they’d accuse.

  They’d ruined my life because I hadn’t been born with the right magic.

  Had she remembered what I wished she would forget? I’d loved her from the day she’d tumbled over the castle wall into the stream serving as the castle’s moat, much to the horror of her guards. I’d been fishing for trout but had caught a princess instead. Even when I’d hooked her arm, she hadn’t cried.

  At five, I shouldn’t have had any magic yet at all, but she’d woken my talent early and sealed my fate. I’d offered her my fishing pole and taught her how to cast as an apology for hurting her with my hook.

  She’d been happy and excited, everything I’d wanted in my life.

  Those days were gone, and I missed them.

  If I was going to survive a royal sharing my roof, I needed to ditch his title or I’d be the one addled. “Why’d you run away, Marshal?”

  “Mom and Dad are being pressured to send Veronica to New York and make one of my siblings the next monarch. New York will ruin our economy to coerce her into going. They want our talents in their royal bloodline. If they want Veronica, they’ll have to get rid of you, but they don’t know about you yet. They will soon. My sister’s scared. Our parents don’t think they have a choice.”

  Shit. “I have absolutely nothing to do with your sister going to New York. It’s none of my business. Why involve me?”

  For a kid, Marshal had one nasty glare. “You’re a leech, and you’re bonded with my sister. Why else would she go into full hysterics when anyone touches her envelope? Only an idiot would ignore the signs.”

  “Well, ain’t that just fucking spectacular.”

  Damn it. One had slipped out. I pinched the bridge of my nose harder, hoping the pressure against the blood vessels would put me out of my misery for a few minutes. It didn’t work.

  Marshal grinned and bounced on my sofa, which squeaked in protest. “Veronica reminds them every day they had made a mistake by taking you from her. She doesn’t realize you still live here, but I saw it.”

  The devil disguised as a child was a seer who could hide himself from watchful eyes. Under no circumstances could I ever let him trick me into playing hide and seek with him. “You’re a seer.”

  “I have my great-grandmother’s talent. Veronica loves using me as an example, reminding our parents you’ll pass down your parents’ talents into our line. I think they’re all stupid. I’m tired of them fighting all the time, and only you can make it better.”

  Great, just great. A runaway prince expected me to clean up a royal mess. I hadn’t asked for anything that had happened. At five, I’d only cared about catching fish, and Veronica had liked fishi
ng, too. Worse, if Marshal truly had inherited the seer’s talent, he’d be catching glimpses of likely futures.

  Seers rarely lived long or happy lives.

  Poor kid.

  “Is your talent strong?”

  Marshal squirmed and wrung his hands together. “Unfortunately. I’ve dreamed of you every night for months. They’ve gotten stronger, more consistent. That means the future’s inevitable. New York will attack our economy to get my sister, and you’re important. You can fix it.” The child’s brow furrowed. “That’s what I don’t understand. I don’t see how it’s possible. I can’t see how you fix it. You’re…”

  I took a long look around my tiny basement apartment, which consisted of a sparse living room, a kitchenette so small I couldn’t open the oven door the entire way, and a bedroom with a shower installed in the corner because the bathroom didn’t have room for it.

  “Poor?” I suggested, allowing myself a smile for tricking him into believing the evidence of his eyes. “Your talent doesn’t tell you how I’m supposed to help?”

  He burst into body-shaking sobs. “It’s too confusing!”

  Grimacing at my accidental cruelty, I sat beside him, wrapped an arm around him, and held him while he worked his way through his tears. “I’m sorry.”

  “If they find out I’m dreaming, they’ll never let me out of the palace again. I don’t want to stay there. Let me stay with you.”

  Common sense demanded I return Marshal to where he belonged, but my chest ached for him. I understood; I had a bottle of pills that dulled my talent so I could live without the only woman I’d ever love.