All Chapters of Coronation Of A Disaster: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

If I have to smile at one more sweaty politician who thinks "slipping a hand" is part of the diplomatic protocol, I’m going to burn the White House to the ground and roast marshmallows over the ashes."Ms. Forbes," Senator Harrison breathed into my ear. He smelled like expensive scotch and bad decisions. "You look absolutely... *radiant* tonight."His hand, damp and possessive, slid two inches lower on my bare back.I didn't stiffen. I didn't pull away. I simply turned my head, flashing the thousand-watt grin I’d practiced in the mirror since I was twelve. The grin that said, *I am America’s Sweetheart,* while my brain screamed, *I am plotting your murder.*"Careful, Senator," I said, my voice sugary enough to give the entire room diabetes. "If you touch me one more time, I’ll scream. And trust me, the Secret Service has bullets with your name on them. They just haven't decided which caliber they like best yet."Harrison froze, his liver-spotted face turning a fascinating shade of puc

Regalia didn't look like a place where people lived. It looked like a place where history went to die.As the plane began its descent through a thick blanket of bruised-grey clouds, I pressed my forehead against the cold plastic of the window. Below us, the landscape was a violent tapestry of jagged black mountains and dense, suffocating pine forests. Nestled in the cradle of a valley sat the capital city.It wasn't Washington. There were no sprawling suburbs, no highways, no golden arches. There was a wall. A massive, obsidian wall that circled the city like a noose. And rising from the center of it was the castle.*Castel de Sangue.* The Castle of Blood.Even from ten thousand feet, I could feel its malice. It was a monstrosity of dark stone and spires that looked like jagged teeth tearing at the grey sky."I’m assuming the Airbnb option is off the table?" I asked, my voice echoing slightly in the empty cabin.Armano was already up. He was shrugging on a black wool coat that made hi

The walk to the Grand Hall felt like a death march, only with better couture.Armano didn't speak as we marched down the corridor, his boots echoing sharply against the stone, the sound synchronized with the clicking of my heels. He was tense, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning every shadow as if an assassin might jump out from a suit of armor."You can relax," I said, trying to adjust to the weight of the fur-lined cloak. "I think the Beast scared off the really ambitious ones.""The Beast doesn't scare the Council," Armano replied, not looking at me. "The Council of Lords has been drinking royal blood since before your grandfather was born. They are vultures, Marigold. And right now? They smell a carcass.""Lovely imagery," I muttered. "You really know how to make a girl feel welcome."We stopped before a pair of doors that made the Throne Room doors look like closet shutters. They were made of solid gold, etched with