Prologue

Five years ago...

O nce upon a time, there was a handsome prince who lived in a far-off kingdom on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean.

The country of Laandia borders the northern part of the Canadian province of Quebec, which lately seems interested in joining the country of Laandia, and the Arctic Circle, which does not want to join any other country because it is too cold for anyone to live there.

The handsome prince from Laandia is dating a girl who happens to be a billionaire.

That girl is me.

The private plane banks as we leave Newfoundland, giving me a first look at the country of Laandia.

Even at this height, it's a colourful sight because the forests that blanket most of the country are now shades of orange and yellow, with a lot of green, plus blue lakes and rivers.

Still—average. Ordinary. I'm not an outdoorsy type. Give me a five-star private resort with a Michelin-starred restaurant and plenty of boutiques in the middle of the woods and I'll be happy, but without it? Meh.

No one else is looking out the window. They're watching my twin brother Ashton throw peanuts into the open mouth of Milo Stapleton-Shak.

"What do you think, Fen?" Gunnar asks. He'd been excited about showing me his home since we started dating a few months ago.

And now I'm finally going to visit Laandia… along with five of my best friends.

I would have been fine travelling with just Gunnar but since this is technically my birthday trip—mine and Ashton's—having friends along makes sense.

"It looks like… land."

My comment doesn't diminish Gunnar's excitement one little bit. "Just wait until you get the first glimpse of Battle Harbour. And the castle. It looks great from the air."

That is what makes Laandia different from other countries, and I've been to a lot of countries. It has a castle. And a royal family who lives there.

There are many countries with monarchies, but none like the Ericksons. King Magnus is like no other king—he was in a rock band. And won a gold medal in one of the Olympics. He has four sons and one daughter, and each one is more beautiful than the last.

I know because I've seen pictures. Also, because I'm dating the youngest son, Prince Gunnar .

I'm dating a prince.

Of course, I'm dating Prince Gunnar of Laandia—daughters of billionaires get those perks.

And it's just fair that we get those perks, because being a billionaire is hard . Pictures and videos are being taken constantly; there are lies and rumours, and demands for your time to show up at charities, films and parties. And don't get me started on all the shopping you need to do to be on the leading edge of fashion—which I am.

Luckily, I have people to help with that.

It may sound like we live in a bubble of indulgence, with private planes, luxury vacations, and five-star meals at our fingertips every day, and I suppose we do. I've been everywhere —film premieres, Met Galas, parties for Formula One races all over the world. I've stayed in the Ramburgh Palace in Jaipur, Burj Al Arab in Dubai, and Necker Island with Mr. Branson, a friend of my father's.

It's fun. It's amazing. It's sometimes tough, to show the right side of yourself to a world that only wants your left—your bad side. Who wants you to fail.

That's why I have my friends.

They call us the Billionaire Brats, so resentment is alive and well. The six of us have bonded—me and Ashton, heirs to Carrington Toy fortune, Coral, of AAA winery, Lavinia, she of the one name, Viscount Milo, and Rupert, whose father is important in South Africa, but I can't remember what for. There are a few others, like Mase Stirling, but it's the six of us that stand together.

Gunnar is with us now because of me. He met Ashton at some race and then fell in love with me.

I fell in love with him. At least I'm pretty sure it's love. I've never actually said those words to anyone.

Maybe it'll be Gunnar.

"Look now," Gunnar urges and I turn back to the window. Below is the town of Battle Harbour, designed in a U-shape with an open end at the water.

The Atlantic Ocean looks a little different here than what I'm used to around Long Island. Angrier, and more gray than blue.

But it's the houses I focus on."They look like Lego," I tell him.

"It's the prettiest place in Laandia. I hope you like it."

"Of course I will because you're here." I put my arms around him, leaning up for a kiss.

It's the eve of my twenty-second birthday and at this moment, I think this is all I'll ever need.