Harder to Say Goodbye Novel – He smiled at me and said, “Juliette, you cannot be Queen.” I returned his smile, soft and knowing. I never wished to be Queen. How could a living queen bring as much benefit to the family as the emperor’s dead white moonlight? My name is Juliette Voss. My father is Lord General Voss, guardian of the Northwest, a bulwark of the realm. My elder brothers, Sir Aldric Voss and Sir Gareth Voss, serve under his banner, their names etched in glory through deeds of valor.
My third brother, Lucien Voss, shuns the clash of steel for the sharpness of wit. At fifteen, he claimed the title of First Laureate of the Imperial Exams and now holds the exalted post of Lord Chancellor of Ceremonies. As for me, I am the fairest flower of Avareth’s capital. I am also the childhood companion of Emperor Adrian—playmates in youth, bound by tender promises. Once, I was the bride he welcomed with a grand wedding procession as Prince Adrian’s consort.
Not long ago, the Late King passed from this world, and Prince Adrian ascended the throne. The entire realm believes I am destined to rise smoothly to the seat of Queen. What they do not know is this: the throne of the Queen is a perilous chalice, filled with he poisoned waters of the old court’s politics. Should it fall to me, the realm itself might soon bear the name Voss. In the dim glow of the chamber, Adrian Blackwell sat upon the edge of my bed, his smile gentle as he spoke. “Juliette, you cannot be Queen.” I blew out the candle, its light snuffed into darkness, and offered him a soft smile in return.
“Adrian, I understand.” Adrian, knowing my heart, drew me into his arms. “I swear to you, Juliette, save for the title of Queen, all else in my power is yours.” We have known each other since childhood, bound as husband and wife these five years past. I know his words ring true. Yet I turned my gaze from the warmth in his eyes. “Sleep now, my love. The hour grows late.” If only Lucien had not foreseen this all. At the Queen’s coronation, I watched as Adrian placed the Crown upon Vivienne Lowell’s head.
Vivienne, daughter of Lord Chancellor Lowell, once Prince Adrian’s secondary consort. As she received the Royal Seal, emblem of dominion over the six palaces, her eyes cut through the throng, landing on me with a glint of triumph. I met her gaze with a serene, elegant smile. What did it matter? She thought she had bested me at last.
But it was Lucien who wove the tapestry of my love with Adrian, ensuring I would fall short in this contest for the Crown. A house too mighty risks outshining its emperor—a truth no ruler can abide, even one who holds our loyalty as steadfastly as we guard his lands.