Freya

The line of SUVs approaching our village pulls up with another row of dump trucks behind it, huge machines piled high with some sort of material.

Ugh. It’s going to be impossible to walk through the ruts on our main street once they’ve driven over it with that shit.

Whatever that weird flutter was in my chest, it’s mostly replaced with anger now. My father should have known the prince would cause more harm than good here.

I step away from the window and finish getting dressed, putting on some decent shoes instead of the high heels my stepmother chose so at least I won’t trip in this over-the-top...