All Chapters of BRED FOR DUTY: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Adalia’s JournalDay 2,411.Mother says I should act more like a princess and less like a gladiator. She says a princess is never heard—she’s supposed to be delicate and sweet as a songbird. But how can I be, when I was Father’s son for the first two years of my life? I watched him train with the guards. Mock battles are all I know.Queen Leora is beautiful—Aphrodite couldn’t hold a candle to her. I will be queen one day, but I intend to take a much more active role. I respect Mother's choice to be a mother first, but I don’t understand why she had to put down her sword for it. My father refused to let her join him in battle, but when I become Queen, I will go to every fight. I will not throw away my passion for marriage. Why should I, when my brother Randi can produce heirs if needed?Tomorrow, we travel to the Northern Kingdom. I know the visit is a facade to cover a military strategy meeting—why else would General Conan come along? The trip will give me insight into their army and w

Archer’s JournalDay 2,412. She carries a broadsword concealed under a ceremonial ballgown. Most nobles would call it madness; I call it brilliant.Adalia is an enigma—a princess who bristles at velvet and looks at a royal court as if it were a battleground waiting to break out. As our fathers retreat to the war council to discuss the rising rebel threat, I find myself far less concerned with the politics of our alliance and far more consumed by the woman who refuses to yield to it.Outside the private chamber, Archer leaned against the stone wall, waiting patiently while Adalia adjusted her concealed weapon.When she stepped back into the corridor, her sword was bound tightly against her ribs—tighter even than her corset. Archer was staring absentmindedly down the hall, lost in thought.“She is remarkable,” Archer muttered under his breath, unaware he had spoken aloud.Adalia paused, raising an eyebrow. “Who is?”Archer turned, his expression instantly smoothing into a composed, neutr

Adalia’s JournalDay 2,412.I made peace with my lost dreams years ago. I buried the girl who wanted to be a knight under steel, discipline, and blood. But today, Xander returned—and brought the ghost of everything I surrendered back with him.Adalia’s fingers were filthy with dried blood and mud as she untied the soaked linen from a Southern soldier’s thigh. She focused entirely on the tear in his flesh to keep her mind off the heavy, suffocating pressure of Archer’s gaze burning into her back.Every step the Northern prince took behind her rang like a hammer on an anvil against the cobblestones. The deafening roar of battle had finally died down across the inner courtyard, leaving behind a sick, metallic tang in the air and the lingering stench of ozone.“They knew we were here,” Adalia muttered under her breath, pressing her thumb hard against the soldier’s wound to check the bleeding. The soldier grunted, but she barely heard him over the frantic pounding in her own ears. “They did

Adalia’s JournalDay 2,412.A gown laced so tightly I cannot breathe, sitting beside a prince who claims me, across from the man I used to love. And now, the Kings demand our vows.The steel stays of Adalia's corset dug relentlessly into her ribs with every breath she dragged into her lungs. She had traded her blood-stained tunic for a formal black and red ceremonial gown, but as she stood at the threshold of the grand dining hall, she felt more trapped in this silk cage than she ever had in her plate armor.She squared her shoulders, smoothed down her skirts, and forced her chin high. She was a warrior of the South, and she refused to let this Northern court see her shake.Archer was waiting for her at the archway. The moment she crossed the threshold, he offered his broad arm, his hazel eyes softening with something scarily intense. “You look magnificent, Princess.”“You’re actually in a dress,” Xander’s smooth voice cut through the air from his seat at the long U-shaped table. He wa

Adalia’s JournalDay 2,412.He looks at me not as a prize to be won, nor as a delicate princess to be sheltered, but as an equal. It is terrifying how easily he slips past my defenses.Adalia stared up at Archer, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. He was standing so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body through the cool night air.“And what about your duty?” she challenged softly, trying desperately to hold up her defensive walls. “Your father expects a quiet, traditional Queen for the North.”Archer reached out, his warm palm gently cupping her cheek. Adalia meant to pull away, to show him she wasn't easily swayed by soft gestures, but before she could stop herself, she leaned subtly into his touch.“My duty is to protect you, our kingdoms, and our future,” Archer murmured, his thumb brushing softly over her cheekbone. “I am to be a King, a husband, and a father. In that exact order.”Adalia noticed the sequence of his words immediately. “How do you do it?” sh