Our outburst led Mr. Ament to grimace with disapproval, Mr. Novak to sneer with superiority, two attorneys to gasp in surprise, and the only female colleague to duck her head to hide her smile.

Should've made her take the lead, jackass, I thought sourly. I highly doubt we'd be at this stupid impasse.

"Ms. Copeland. Ms. Cooper," the senior attorney said, clearing his throat and running a hand nervously through his thick fluff of white hair. "It's that sort of response we want you to avoid when meeting with other dignitaries and high-ranking officials."

"And none of you are neither," Phil said shortly, tossing her dark hair behind her shoulders. "So, our response was completely appropriate considering the patronizing and contemptuous tone you've been using since the moment you met us."

"I may be a single, unemployed woman, but I'm not an idiot," I added harshly, with a whole bunch of "girl power" attitude. "I'd like to believe I'm a well mannered and polite person, but you should never, never underestimate the power of a woman, gentlemen."

"While we understand your sentiments," Mr. Novak said, steepling his fingers. "We have every right to proceed with the necessary precautions with someone with your record."

"My record?" I exclaimed, knowing my eyes widened in surprise and confusion.

I had no criminal record. I wasn't even arrested during the many rallies I attended when I was in college. I managed to flirt my way out of any speeding ticket – even written warnings.

"And considering how you obtained the sword in the first place also adds to our list of concerns regarding your ability to properly and appropriately represent our country," another fifty-something attorney threw in, glancing at a thin black binder of papers.

"Thank you, Dennis," Mr. Ament acknowledged, with a victorious smile. "It's not a secret you and Ms. Cooper were highly inebriated that night."

"Having a few drinks isn't a crime," Phil bit out evenly, cracking her knuckles.

Hostility and discontentment radiated readily from tense but poised posture.

"No, it's not," Dennis the Nag agreed, "but her past records show her judgment is severely impaired when highly intoxicated."

What. The. Hell? Did the folder in front of the beefy middle-aged lawyer with one too many rings on his pudgy fingers list all the instances I had been drunk? Because I had an issue with that for three reasons.

One, the stack of papers should be much thicker because I fully embraced my dad's advice "to have fun" when I was in college – and maybe a few years after earning my degree. Two, keeping a hard copy of my personal social life – public or not – was just plain creepy.

Three, was my amazing social life the best they had on me? Was I supposed to be embarrassed about being a handsy drunk or a terrible karaoke singer? Did they believe this was leverage?

"I'm pretty sure anyone's judgment is impaired after having one too many whiskey shots," Phil shot back, specifically glaring at Mr. Novak who suddenly appeared uncomfortable and thought the key to winning this argument was written somewhere on the table.

"There's photographic evidence of Ms. Copeland engaging inappropriately with a male entertainer at a social event," Dennis countered.

Male entertainer? Social event? Oh, the super hot stripper at Michelle Powell's bachelorette party a few years ago.

A small snicker escaped and a wide smile crossed my face at the memory of that wild and crazy night that resulted in one of the bridesmaids getting married to a DJ we had met at one of the clubs.

"Seriously?" Phil scoffed incredulously, shaking her head. "That's the best you've got? You've got a picture or two of Winter playing extreme hockey tonsil and probably getting a little handsy with a hot stripper?"

The fourth male lawyer frantically flipped through the pages of his copy of my alleged file and shook his head. Me locking lips with a stripper would be the raunchiest or dirtiest proof of my happy hours because I wasn't an exhibitionist no matter how many tequila shots or vodka tonics I had sucked down.

I never flashed my amazing boobs during spring break.

I might have received a dick pic or two, but I never took or sent a photo of my private parts. The mystery of the internet cloud scared the shit out of me.

I preferred to rely on my terrible memory than a video to replay any of my intimate moments.

If the perverted attorneys searched high and low for an explicit sex tape, then they were probably disappointed in their failed efforts.

I might not be the smartest person in the room, but I, sure as hell, wasn't an idiot.

Mr. Ament coughed lightly and shifted in his seat, surprised the "photographic evidence" didn't send us recoiling in fear. "Well, that sort of inappropriate behavior leads to more intimate and private matters that should remain behind closed doors."

Oh hell yeah. The drunken kisses led to three earth-shattering orgasms in a public single restroom, where the door was definitely locked as half dozen people tried to open it.

"Other than kissing an extremely gorgeous guy in public, has Ms. Copeland done anything to led you to believe she would misrepresent Moneres Islands?" Phil asked darkly, arching a dark brow. "Is there a reason you sexist asshats decided to search for dirt and overlook her achievements? Other than Ms. Copeland being a young, beautiful, and single woman, what the exact fuck did she do to you?"

She called me beautiful! I beamed with pride and adoration for my best friend who would kick major ass if she decided to study law.

A combination of displeased huffs and low grumbles emanated from the four men while the female attorney simply smirked. I liked her even though she hasn't introduced herself or said a single word, which confused me slightly. Why exactly did the older white gentleman invite their forty-something Asian colleague when their sexist comments crashed and burned the introductory meeting? Did they believe her mere presence would make me trust them automatically?

I thought lawyers were supposed to be smart because these men were just plain dumb.

"The coronation of someone outside the royal family is unprecedented," Mr. Ament admitted, his long wrinkled fingers fidgeting with his blue silk tie. "But some of your personal decisions, such as a future engagement and parenthood plans, will face certain scrutiny."

"So, you're afraid I'm going to marry an idiot?" I asked incredulously because it was a strong possibility. With three failed relationships in my past, my track record with men wasn't the greatest.

After my last relationship crashed and burned about a year ago, stepping into another one wasn't even on my radar. But I was also a girl with needs who couldn't always be satisfied with her special toys. Unfortunately, the majority of the guys who made me incredibly and deliriously happy in bed failed to impress me when they weren't in it.

"What if I don't believe in the institution of marriage?" I asked, not giving them a chance to answer, as the most brilliant question charged into my mind. "What if I prefer reverse harems?"

Phil snorted out loud and covered her mouth with both hands.

"What?" Mr. Ament shouted, crashing back into his chair, as color drained from his face. "You want to be in a harem?"

"Reverse harem," I corrected, with a casual shrug. "A woman in a serious committed relationship with more than one man. My magical number is three."

"That's completely unacceptable and disgusting!" Dennis exclaimed angrily, pounding a fist on the table surface.

"A consensual, loving, and committed relationship is unacceptable and disgusting?" I shoot back, with fire in my eyes and voice ready to defend a person's right to love anyone.

"That's not what I meant!"

"King Dabar not only had five wives but had dozens and dozens of mistresses," I informed the speechless and blustered attorneys with wide eyes, showing off my newfound knowledge of the country's past rulers. "He had more than fifty children. King Ingmire had one wife but he made sure all twelve of his mistresses lived in the castle."

"The world is ever revolving, Ms. Copeland," Mr. Ament said tightly, color slowly returning to his pale skin. "While your knowledge of the country's history is impressive, the actions of those men occurred centuries ago and no longer reflect the ethics and traditions we hold today."

"So, publicly humiliating your spouse because she was unable to provide a son is a valued tradition?" I asked sarcastically, holding the senior attorney's uncomfortable gaze as recognition flickered in his tired eyes.

"Again," Mr. Novak said harshly, ignoring the older colleague holding up his hand to prevent him from walking into the line of fire. "Times have changed, Ms. Copeland. The previous rulers are just that – past royalty – and we have every right to disassociate ourselves from that period of time."

"Does King Bannen know this?"

The smirk on the lawyer's lips slowly disappeared at my question as Mr. Ament scrubbed a hand down his weary face. "Excuse me?"

"Does King Bannen know you have disassociated yourself from his grandfather, King Gideon Bannen and his time of reign?" I repeated in a serious tone as the tiny child in me cheered wildly, Ha! Take that, asshats!

Even though I desperately wanted to return their superior sneers and arrogant attitudes, I needed to take the high road. To show the jerkfaces this future queen could be composed and reserved.

"I think now would be a good time to adjourn," Mr. Ament interrupted, pushing back his chair and disregarding the younger associate's perplexed look. "We will be in touch, Ms. Copeland, regarding the royal contract."

"Looking forward to it." I tipped my head, feeling Montgomery gently pull my roller chair back from the table.

Never ever underestimate the power of a woman, gentlemen, I thought gleefully, biting down on my lip to keep a victorious smile from spreading, as Phil and I stood and headed toward the door where Weber stood.

Mr. Ament stood in the back of the group with the female attorney while the three remaining men whispered among themselves as they slowly shuffled around the long table.

Before Phil turned to follow Weber through the open door, she shot me a small smile and wiped an imaginary tear from underneath her eye as if she was a parent incredibly proud of her child. I rolled my eyes and shook my head slightly as I felt Montgomery's warm hand touch the small of back to usher me from the conference room.

"Ms. Copeland," Dennis the Snark called out, stopping a few feet away from me and Montgomery.

The taunting way the attorney said my name and how his cold eyes leered disgustingly at me not only chilled my blood but forced my retreating defensive walls to shoot back into place.

"Think your father would be proud of your behavior today?" he spat out cruelly, making my heart sink with sadness and anger. "Think your father would like to see pictures of you kissing strippers and discussing harems as if you have experience?"

Oh, did this asshole just mention my dad? I whipped my head to fully face the stinky lawyer and glare at him with all of my hate.

"That shit – " Phil cursed angrily behind me before snapping. "Weber, get your hands off me."

Despite my entire body tense with rage and my eyes shooting imaginary daggers, I was rendered speechless with an overwhelming sense of grief and longing. The ability to form even the most basic sentences alluded me.

Even ten years later, my heart ached for my dad. Time lessened the pain of unexpectedly losing him, but an emptiness remained in my soul. While the void was constant, I relied on my memories when the sorrow overwhelmed me some days. Simple mental images and snippets of our time together pushed me to move forward and enjoy life more often.

Hearing a complete stranger reference my dad to rein in my behavior caught me off guard as my mind desperately attempted to protect the good memories.

"Watch yourself, Conway," Montgomery growled, moving his hand from my back to my hip.

The lawyer's beady little eyes caught the small action, igniting all sorts of malicious ideas even a blind person could probably see. I had no doubt the pervert's little mind began fabricating all kinds of salacious sexual connections between me and my personal security guard.

"Maybe you should follow your own advice, Tobias," Dennis sneered, stringing out his first name and ending it with a hissing sound. "Willing to do anything for the crown?"

Montgomery's grip on my hip moved to my elbow as he tried to pull me away, but my feet remained rooted in place. Even though my mind wanted to hurl insults and demand my father's good name be kept from his filthy mouth, my voice was nowhere to be found.

"Winter," Montgomery murmured in a low and commanding voice. No other words were needed to understand the message, He's not worth any more of our time.

"Whispering sweet little promises to your little concubine? With her beauty and no father figure, no wonder – "

The rest of his cruel words died on lips the moment my foot swiftly crashed into his nuts. As the dumbass lawyer doubled over in pain and groaned loudly in immense pain, I managed to sneak in another gratifying hard stomp to his precious jewels before Montgomery's muscled arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me from the conference room.

Maintaining my composure and reservations would need to wait another day.