I wanted to smile, but I couldn't. Not when I felt different sets of eyes on me and the other guards strategically placed among the cameramen and crew on the set of the morning news show.

I watched Winter take a deep breath after a staff member clipped a small mic to the v-line of her peach floral blouse. Her fingers nervously fiddled with a few index cards in front of her at the crescent-shaped anchors desk. Even though her speech would scroll before her on the teleprompter, she insisted on having one or two cards in front of her in case she "forgot to read or something." Her words. Despite the look of confusion on more than one person, me included, no one dared to argue with her. Not even her mom. Or, more surprisingly, Phil.

Renning shot me an apprehensive nod as he and other high-ranking officials headed toward the control room, where they could quickly shut down the feed if something went wrong. Pinning my arms over my chest, I gave him a curt nod in return and sort of hoped he would take it as a sign everything would be okay.

I had no doubt Winter would probably flub a line or two or even lose her train of thought, but in the end, she would kill her speech and the country would have a newfound respect for her. How did I know this?

From the fireside stories my ancestors shared with young, gullible children that still believed in fairy tales and magic. According to my grandfather's tales he heard when he was younger, our family were descendants of those specially chosen to protect the royal family. The appointed guardians pledged their loyalty to the crown not necessarily the person who wore it. Without possessing any type of magic, the guardians simply knew who the true royals were and either fought to help them keep or take the crown.

Even when I was younger, I thought the story was complete bullshit. The guardians just knew? No visions? No magical wizards? No weird sense or sensation? And what kind of fable didn't include fire-breathing dragons, pretty princesses, and a bit of magic? My ancestors definitely lacked creativity and imagination.

Grayson Bannen was born during the reign of his grandfather, King Rowan Bannen, and lived a relatively normal life until he was 17. While security kept an eye on Gray and his sisters their entire lives, surveillance turned more vigilant when their father, Vaughn, took the crown after King Rowan was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and stepped down. My best friend since kindergarten was now a real-life prince.

With his dad newly crowned, the entire family were set to travel all over the world for special appearances, which threatened our plans to attend university in England. Gray, somehow, convinced his parents and the director of the royal guard to proceed with our higher education as planned with me acting as a quasi-security guard. I wasn't thrilled with the idea initially because I had been more than ready to try the whole college experience, getting super drunk, messing around with a ton of ladies, and making a minimal amount of trouble.

But when Gray mentioned my tuition and other expenses would be taken care of and I would actually be paid to hang out with him, I changed my mind real quickly. If I managed to keep him out of a significant amount of trouble for three years, I would be offered a permanent position with the royal security guard.

Other than Gray breaking a few hearts, skipping one or two classes, and accidentally killing about a dozen koi in the campus gardens, we graduated relatively unscathed. His guilt over the koi pond incident led him to anonymously donate enough money to buy at least a hundred replacement fish.

In all the time I had spent with him and his family, I never sensed or even witnessed any magical moment.

Until I saw her. Before she even touched the sword.

I had been working on my third beer with some buddies at a bar when I noticed her and Phil shooting pool with a few locals known to organize volunteer efforts whenever disaster struck.

Even for being short and tiny, Winter stood out among the group. She definitely wasn't a wallflower, but she also didn't like being the center of attention. Just standing next to Phil with a pool stick in her hand and running the other through her long black mane, she was simply gorgeous.

Something odd rolled around in my stomach and a combination of warm and cold air swept through my body the second time I discreetly glanced at her. Silver glittered dust particles gently danced around her. And only her. They constantly swirled around her as she moved around the pool table.

Even after shaking my head a few times and rubbing my eyes, the magic pixie dust never left her. I chalked it up to having too many beers or drinking them way too fast. But even as my brain refused to acknowledge the illogical possibility, everything else inside me simply knew.

"Quiet on the set!" one of the crew members yelled as the hushed murmurs immediately fell silent.

The long-time news anchors, River Monaco and Tag Heywood, both impeccably dressed with perfect hair, flashed artificial smiles at Winter as they glided into their seats behind the desk. I watched Winter fidget nervously in her chair as her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the note cards. The silver fairy glitter softly swirled around her. I quickly scanned the area, wondering if I was the only one that could see the bit of magic, but no one else seemed to blink excessively or rub their eyes in disbelief.

Another crew member started the countdown before the familiar perky musical theme blared through the overhead speakers and River cheerfully greeted the audience.

"Needless to say, the past forty-eight hours have been a whirlwind of high emotions and pointed statements ever since King Bannen announced a young American woman pulled the sword from the stone and will be crowned queen in a historic coronation in thirty days," Tag cut in smoothly after his co-host's introductions and quick weather report. "Despite the king's full support and high praise for the future queen, 26-year-old Winter Copeland, many have voiced their concerns and opposition regarding the change."

The word "many" was definitely an understatement ever since the footage of Winter clumsily freeing the sword had been leaked to the entire world. When people weren't making fun of her or turning the country into a huge joke, everyone in the world seemed to have an opinion on her royal future. And the majority didn't have an issue vocalizing their doubt.

With Phil never leaving her side and her mom feeding her comfort foods, Winter raised a metaphoric finger to the world as she met with King Bannen, Renning, and other dignitaries to discuss some of the specifics of her speech.

As the newscaster quickly summarized Terry Ament's pack of lies and his subsequent arrest, I studied Winter sitting straight with her shoulders back and a passive expression on her face. I kind of wished she and I had a more tight-knit relationship rather than the current love-hate one because maybe I could discreetly support her with a quick wink or some other non-verbal cue.

All I could do was stare at her. Like a creep.

"With us this morning is Ms. Winter Copeland who would like to address the allegations and the controversy over the crown," Tag said as the camera panned to Winter who gave a small nervous smile. "Ms. Copeland."

"Thank you, Tag. River," she said effortlessly, acknowledging the hosts with a quick nod. "I appreciate the opportunity to say a few words regarding the concerns and allegations against me."

She and I took a deep breath at the same time before she looked straight into the camera and began her speech.

"Everything Mr. Ament said about me was absolutely correct," Winter started, with a very small smile. "I am young and unemployed. And, unfortunately, sometimes I feel entitled to certain things, but my mom and my best friend have no problem kicking me off my own high pedestal.

"And, again, I agree with Mr. Ament that I'm a stranger unfit to represent this proud and kind country. I have no previous experience with royalty even though I have been called a pretty princess once or twice. I may not know the full history of the Moneres Islands, but I know the people I've met are incredibly kind and welcoming. I am beyond grateful for the support and encouragement I have received."

Why does she sound like she's rescinding the crown? I thought, with a worried frown. Her last distinct words on the matter were, "Queens don't quit. They fight. Or stand up for themselves. Or something positive." Then she rambled on about heading into battle with the troops and then metaphorically knocking down a bully or two. I tuned her out about ten seconds into her answer.

The day I officially met her, I listened to every single word she said. Her sarcastic remarks. Her curious questions. Her cute little banter with Phil. I breathed in every word because I didn't spot one speck of fairy glitter that day. I silently chastised myself for believing my grandfather's stories for a moment because I had too much to drink. My stomach was just fine. Nothing swept through my body.

However, I closely examined my package the moment I was alone to make sure the pretty little minx didn't have any actual powers. I used all my restraint and then some to not touch my junk in front of my boss and the future queen at the time.

Just as I dismissed the notion of magic for a second time and reminded myself to not drink so fast next time, Grayson called me soon after Winter and Phil arrived at the castle. While his dogs' unusual behavior bothered him during the visit because the intimidating canines adored him and obeyed his commands ninety-nine percent of the time, his younger sister's pet's sudden sunny disposition freaked him out.

What truly scared the bejesus out of me? Believing Cordy could see the pixie dust too after watching her numerous times trying to either eat or catch the silver little particles. Others thought she wanted attention whenever she jumped into the air with her mouth comically wide open or desperately chased the dust in circles. Maybe because we shared the same gift or whatever, Cordy only tolerated any sort of interaction with me and annoyingly growled at the rest of the security team.

I, unfortunately, envied that gigantic rat when she spent time with Winter in the library, where she rehearsed her speech for hours. Other than one or two of the speech writers, Phil, and her mom, no one else was allowed to hear her practice runs.

Winter briefly glanced at the note cards in front of her before speaking directly to the camera once more.

You're not a quitter, I silently pleaded with her, wondering if she could see me among the crowd on the sidelines.

"While Mr. Ament has every right to feel anxious and uneasy about having a complete stranger represent his country, he doesn't know who I am," she said, her voice hard and her brown eyes steely with determination. "He has an idea of who I am from his research on the internet and other public domains, but, in reality, he doesn't know who I am and what I can do."

You go, girl! Was I even allowed to say or think that?

"I fight," Winter said sharply. "I fight for those I love. I fight for the weak – for those who don't have a voice. And I will fight for myself and my beliefs when someone like Mr. Ament challenges my name and intentions with blatant lies and threatens to ruin my reputation. Well, joke's on him because I don't even have a reputation."

My lips twitched, wanting to break out into a wide smile at her inevitable sarcastic wit, and my head resisted the urge to shake in mock indignation.

"I'm a 26-year-old unemployed and very single woman from America," she repeated, with a small twinkle in her eyes. "I am definitely not as important as he thinks I am, believing embarrassing footage of me being tossed over the rock not only will force me to retreat and hide but push my friends and family to abandon me.

"Do I wish I looked more badass or at least graceful when I pulled the sword? Of course. But given my knack for unnecessary floundering, how everything went down seems more like me. Because, honestly, I don't know what the poop I'm doing. I don't even know what life milestones I should have achieved at my age.

"Even though my life may seem like a hot mess at the moment that doesn't mean I don't know who I am. I'm going to try my best to represent the good people of Moneres Islands. I'm more than willing to learn everything I can about the nation and fight for what the people deserve. You absolutely deserve someone better than me, but maybe this is my destiny. The myth about the sword just confuses me sometimes ... "

My lips wanted to smirk in triumph for anticipating her eventual ramble as Winter drifted slightly from her prepared speech that somehow made her more endearing.

The silver glitter continued to softly twirl around her as she shook her head, smiled, and apologized for her meandering thoughts. When Grayson brought the dogs over after the fun little meeting with the attorneys, I realized why the magic pixie dust emerged at certain times.

When Winter felt vulnerable.

I couldn't see the dusting the day we were officially introduced because she hid behind a wall of sarcasm and snark.

While she might have been nervous during the meeting with the lawyers, the sparse layers of glitter surfaced when the asshat mentioned her father. Because I was severely tempted to pummel the guy into a bloody mess for calling her a concubine, I took my sweet ass time pulling her away and giving her another chance for a second kick in the nuts. The guy totally deserved it.

My heart twinged with an unknown feeling when I stood outside the library door and listened to her sob with Samson and Marley by her side. I heeded Phil's warning about leaving Winter alone to process what happened, but my need to comfort her honestly confused me. I was not good at comforting anyone; my younger sister learned that lesson at an early age.

With tears streaming down her face, my sister had asked me why my friend, Scott Ackerman, didn't like her as much as she liked him. Stupidly believing she would appreciate the truth and would move on, I mentioned she talked too much and too fast for him. My mom wasn't amused at my honesty, shooting me a dirty look, as she correctly comforted my sister.

Even now with Winter absolutely killing her speech, a sense of vulnerability still lingered inside her as she bared her honest thoughts in front of a crowd of strangers and thousands of viewers at home.

"I promise to fight for the nation because that is what strong, independent women do," Winter said, with fire in her voice. "We don't bow to anyone. And we most certainly do not take orders from men going through a mid-life crisis and do not know the first thing about being a woman. Seriously. That's why I'm here right now, addressing the country.

"Listen, men, here's a word of advice. Don't tell women what they can or cannot do because not only are you going to piss them off but you're giving them permission to prove you wrong. The law set by the patriarchy refused to give women a chance to free the sword. My best friend and I, and countless of other women before us, just wanted a chance to prove that we're just as capable – if not better – than men.

"I believe I proved that with the sword, and I will continue prove myself by fighting for your trust, respect, and understanding. But please I know I am trying my best despite any mistakes I might make. As much as I want to be the perfect queen – and the queen you deserve – I will occasionally fail and stumble, but I will also dust off my knees and stand back up. Because queens don't quit. They fight.

"Queens fight for what they believe in. I believe in myself, and I believe in the people of Moneres Islands. Hopefully, one day, I will deserve this amazing honor the sword and the country have given me. Thank you."

Tag thanked Winter for her time and mentioned which stories were coming after the commercial break. As soon as the main camera guy yelled, "Cut," a soft murmur and slight hustle swept through the crowd on the main level.

Whispers, side-eye glances, and unspoken judgments had filled the floor before the telecast, but now, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement, wide-eyed curiosity, and a sense of relief.

Winter smiled brightly and shook hands with eager crew members as they led her toward her mom, Phil, and Weber.

My chest tightened with pride and respect, and my heart charged toward the unknown with a sense of heightened intoxication. As I pressed the palm of my hand against my chest in an attempt to slow my pulse, I caught a glimmer of something different dancing around Winter.

One small particle of bright red swayed softly among the silver dust. My mind pointed out I associated the color with death and love as my heart continued to jump around for joy at the sight of Winter eagerly hugging her mom.

Shit. Phil was right.