Chapter 1

The day the royal decree arrived, everyone was singing my praises. Only I knew it was a sham.

Alexander Grant wanted me out for three years so he could marry the woman he truly loved, Isabelle Winters.

I didn't call him out. I just packed my things and left for the Northern Frontier.

For three years, I put my life on the line, trading blood and sweat for countless victories.

When I finally returned to the Capital City, I didn't bother to see Alexander. Instead, I married Prince Edmund, the man he feared the most.

Six months later, fueled by my military prowess and schemes, Prince Edmund claimed the throne.

Alexander stood outside the throne room, finally remembering who I was.

*****

The day the decree arrived, the entire Sinclair Manor was buzzing.

My father, William Sinclair, the Great General of the Realm, was absolutely flushed with pride. He clapped me on the shoulder, his voice booming. "Charlotte, His Majesty has named you 'General of the Northern Frontier.'

"You're to set off at once to guard the frontier for three years. This is the crowning glory of our house!"

The servants bowed, their congratulations echoing off the walls. "Congratulations, Ms. Sinclair!"

Amidst the jubilation, my heart was like a stone. I stared at the scroll, the ink barely dry.

I knew it was a forgery. Or rather, it didn't come from the king's hand at all. It was the handiwork of my fiancé, the Crown Prince Alexander.

Three days ago, I had caught him in his study, painstakingly mimicking the king's script. At the time, I foolishly thought he was merely honing his penmanship.

Now that I think about it, he was forging my "crowning glory."

He wanted me out of the way for three years. He wanted me sent to the Northern Frontier, a frozen wasteland where one spends every waking hour fighting off the Wild Tribes.

With me gone, the path would be clear for him to wed the lady who truly held his heart, Isabelle Winters, the Earl's daughter.

She was a delicate flower, a creature of poetry and grace who could command a room with a single sigh.

On the other hand, I was raised in the mud of military camps, knowing only the weight of a blade.

My hands were calloused from the reins of a horse; hers were made for the harp and the watercolor brush.

Alexander once said he adored my "lionhearted spirit." He promised that when I came of age, he would make me his Crown Princess and lead me to the altar in a ceremony the likes of which the ton had never seen.

But everything changed six months ago when Isabelle returned to the Capital City with her father.

His visits to Sinclair Manor grew few and far between. The fire in his eyes when he looked at me died down to a flicker of guilt.

On the rare occasions we met, he seemed to have a lump in his throat, unable to speak his mind. Now, I finally understood.

He didn't have the stomach to break our engagement and risk the wrath of my father, who commands the king's legions.

So, he pulled a disappearing act. He used a forged decree to send me into exile.

Between the bitter cold and the perils of war, my return after three years was far from a sure bet.

Even if I did make it back, the world would have moved on without me. He played his cards perfectly.

"Charlotte?" My father's voice snapped me back to the present.

I looked up and forced a smile. "I shall go, Father."

I stepped forward with composure and bowed before that sham of a document. "I humbly accept His Majesty's command."

I didn't call his bluff. What would be the point?

Should I run to the King and cry foul? Should I claim the crown prince forged a royal order just to jilt me so he could marry others? Would the king even believe me?

To protect the royal family's honor and the Crown Prince's reputation, the king would only sweep it under the rug, and I would still be sent to the Northern Frontier, and I'd have the stain of 'defiance' hanging over my head.

Alexander would walk away scot-free. I saw no reason to play the fool.

Since he provided me a back door, I decided to take it. Besides, leaving this den of vipers for the frontier sounded like a breath of fresh air.

I calmly took the scroll and straightened up.

My father beamed at me, his eyes brimming with pride and satisfaction. "That's my girl! A true Sinclair through and through. We shall throw a grand ball tonight to see you off in style."

I smiled and nodded. "I should like that, Father."