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Love what is that Can I eat it

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Resumen

she won't trust in something as flimsy or changeable as love.

Chapter 1Chapter 1

"Our engagement is cancelled, Lenora."

Prince Ronan's voice was flat and dispassionate as he faced me.

I had to admit, he definitely had a flair for the dramatic. To meet me here, under this awning, surrounded by the downpour of rain, made this event seem all the more sad. His face was serious, his stance slightly defensive. From head to toe he was the perfect image of the tragic hero. I felt a strange desire to applaud.

Unfortunately, the outfit he was wearing was much less impressive. Who had made his clothing? It was expensive-looking, but to the discerning eye, one could easily tell that the fabric was cheap, thinly woven, and that the stitching was uneven. Knowing how much the royal palace spent on clothing, I felt a headache coming on. What an inferior product. So insulting.

The prince was still talking. Why? I felt his first sentence was more than enough.

"I know this is a terrible shock."

"Is it?" I kept my expression blank, suppressing the urge to laugh. Fortunately he didn't seem to notice my peculiar reaction, seeming intent on proceeding as dramatically as possible.

"I have fallen in love with another woman. My heart is completely swayed, I cannot have another." He sighed tragically, staring off into the rain. "So, unfortunately, I must break off our engagement. I trust you understand."

I nodded quietly, wondering if people were enjoying the food inside. My family had come here for the Prince's birthday, but I hadn't wanted to be here. Unfortunately as his fiancé, I didn't really have a choice. The only thing that I had looked forward to was the food, which had looked delicious, but there wasn't a chance to try that before he had pulled me away for an "important chat."

"I know you're heartbroken, but try not to cry." Seriously, he was still talking? I shook my head. Did engagement breakups really have to take this long?

_______________________________

I stood on a balcony in the rain, facing the man who refused to marry me, crying as my heart broke.

"What will I do without you?! My entire life has been spent preparing to be your bride."

The prince's face was stony. "That's not my concern."

"BUT I LOVE YOU!"

_______________________________

I pushed away the memory of my previous lifetime with a sigh. This is much easier the second time around.

Ronan misinterpreted my expression and sigh. "Do you need to be alone?"

"No."

I held out my hand.

"…" With a confused pause, he pulled out a handkerchief and placed it gently on my outstretched palm. Did he think I wanted something to dry my eyes? I wasn't even crying! I dropped it on the ground, grinding it into the dirt with my shoe, and held my hand out again.

"…What do you want?"

"Compensation."

He looked shocked. "Pardon?"

I smiled at him. "It's simple. I am the daughter of a duke. My time is valuable. This marriage was an arrangement meant to mutually benefit my house and the royal family. By breaking this agreement, you have essentially wasted my time and good intentions." I pulled out a piece of paper from my pocket and started making calculations.

"But…"

"Shush, I'm thinking." I kept writing on the paper. "Let's see. I have been forced to visit the palace twice a week for several hours at a time to 'further our relationship.' Add in the eight hours a week that I spent with your mother and your staff in 'future queen training' which is now essentially useless to me…" I started adding up the figures, nodding to myself.

His face was turning red with anger. "You dare…"

"Not to mention…" I interrupted, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "I had to purchase for you presents on each of the major holidays and your birthdays, which I would not have done otherwise as it wouldn't have been proper if I was not your fiancé. Adding onto that the formal attire I've had to purchase for royal functions, and let's not forget to add 15% for pain and suffering…" I looked at the final number with a happy whistle of appreciation. "Here's what you owe me." I handed him the paper.

Ronan crumpled it in his hand. "This is preposterous! Who ever heard of compensating someone for a broken engagement?"

"Let me remind you, your highness, that I am essentially ruined in the eyes of the nobility." I shrugged, "Who will offer marriage to me, now that I am the cast-off of the prince? You are destroying MY life for YOUR selfishness, and you want to quibble about several hundred…"

"This says THREE THOUSAND!"

"…Several thousand crowns?" I chuckled. "Or we could bring the matter before your father the king? I'm sure he would love to hear about how you're cutting ties with the influential Duke of Armeny's daughter."

With a groan, he searched his pockets, pulling out 3 gold tinted notes. "I only have 1500."

"I saw the envelopes you received for your birthday, your highness. They're in your pocket now. Check them."

Reluctantly he did, finding increasing the total to 2800 crowns. I took it from his hand, double counting it to be sure.

"You can't be serious." He blustered, his face now turning pale.

I smiled gently. "You're right, I should learn to be more lenient." Enjoying how he relaxed at my words, I sighed, holding up two fingers.

"I'll forgive the extra 200 crowns you owe me, for old times sake."

With that, I turned and walked away.

"Lenora!" He called out my name. I paused, not amused.

"We are no longer acquainted, Your Highness. Do not call my name so familiarly." The air between us almost seemed to freeze with the coldness of my tone.

Ronan was obviously shocked. "I thought you were in love with me?"

This from the man who is dumping me? I laughed.

"Love? What is that? Can I eat it? Will it keep a roof over my head?" I rolled my eyes.

"No, your highness. Compared to such flimsy emotions and feelings, I greatly prefer the solidity and dependability of money." I shook the pouch in my hand with a grin and turned to walk away again.

This time, he didn't stop me.

It was finally done. I felt relieved. After all, if he hadn't broken it off, I would have had to do something about it. I was never going to marry him.

Especially since this was the second time he had broken off this engagement. He just didn't remember the first.

"Now the real work begins." I muttered, walking back into the party with my head held high.

______________________________________

3 years earlier…

I woke up in a familiar bedroom, staring up at a silk canopy, absolutely confused.

Didn't I die?

I distinctly remembered starving to death out on the streets in the capital city.

I had not lived a happy life.

The majority of my childhood and adolescence had been spent preparing for one goal, and one goal only: to marry the crown prince Ronan and become the future queen. At the time I had seen this as my duty, and had been happy to work hard for my family's sake.

It wasn't until the rainy day that the prince broke our engagement that I realized how naïve I was.

My father, despite being a duke, had never been talented at managing money. As nobility, most of our income came from taxation of those who lived and worked in our lands. My father was overly trusting of our tax collectors and never double checked their numbers. They took too much from the people and none of it went into taking care of the estate. As a result of their thievery, we destroyed our relationships with those living on the lands, and barely saw half of the money collected.

This by itself might not have been too much, but my father had no concept of the word "restraint" when it came to spending money. He drove up large bills, buying expensive objects, gifts for my mother and myself, etc.

Poor income, high debt, it was a miracle we lasted as long as we did. That was of course through no merit of our own, but through my connection with the royal family. When we were well connected, merchants hesitated to be aggressive about calling in debts. Worst came to worst, they probably assumed that when I became queen I could pay all of my father's outstanding accounts.

But then the rainy day came. The prince broke my heart and married another girl, and all of a sudden, we were no longer under the crown's protection. With no money coming in, and everything we had being sold to pay off what was owed, our family lasted a little over a year.

My father and mother had never lived outside of the protected walls of their families. They could not survive the shock of being forced out into the streets into a struggle to survive. Unable to adapt, they gave into despair, not considering the daughter they left behind.

I was alone.

I tried. I did my best. I made trinkets to sell, worked as a maid, as a cook, as a store clerk. All of these positions were temporary, and none paid nearly enough to keep me well fed. I grew thinner, sicker and more desperate.

I begged for money, some days were better than other. I only ate food every few days. I drank water where I could find it, worried each time that I would only make my health worse.

I had only been out on the streets a year when I died, hungry, alone and very, very angry.

Why had I trusted others to protect me? What was love that I had my life ruined because of it?

No.

If I could do it again, I would do it differently.

Those were my last thoughts, as my eyes closed for the very last time.

Or so I thought.

I woke up in my old bed, in my old room, very much alive and completely confused.

How am I here?

This house was sold shortly after our broken engagement to pay our debts. It had been torn down and a new cottage had been built in its place as an engagement present to the prince's new fiancé.

All this flashed through my head, but there was no denying that I was in my old room. This was my bed, my house, my clothes…. I looked down at myself, even more startled. my body was definitely a bit smaller than I remembered.

I ran over to the mirror by my wardrobe and looked at my appearance.

"Young…" The word slipped out unconsciously from my lips. I looked about fifteen years old. I touched the mirror with an outstretched hand; the glass was cool against my palm. It was not a dream or a mirage. It was real.

"I've gone back." I had been twenty when I died. If I was right, I had woken up five years in the past.

Three years before the prince broke our engagement, ruining me and leaving my family to self-destruct.

Which meant…

I started to laugh, a startling sound in the otherwise silent and empty bedroom. I couldn't help myself though.

I had a chance to change my future.

I sat back down on my bed, deep in thought. Obviously I needed to prevent the downfall of the Duchy of Armeny. The catalyst had been my broken engagement with Prince Ronan.

Should I try to prevent it? Make the Prince fall in love with me?

I only gave that idea a brief moment of consideration before discarding it.

Marriage, children? Would they guarantee that I wouldn't die out on the streets?

Obviously a man's devotion could waver. Children needed to be fed and clothed for years before they could contribute financially to a household.

No, I would pass on the love and marriage. Let Prince Ronan cast me aside again. Who needed the support of that fickle idiot?

This time I would be ready.

I was going to make the duchy not only financially stable, but a moneymaking powerhouse.

I had no time to waste. I stood up, eager to get dressed and get started on my day. I had a lot to do in a short amount of time. As I got ready, my stomach rumbled, signaling that I was hungry.

___________________________________

I was curled up in a ball on a street corner, an empty bowl in front of me.

Pain.

My stomach ached, the emptiness too terrible to bear. How long had it been since I had last been full? I clutched my empty belly, frustrated tears clouding my eyes.

Footsteps. Someone was walking by. Desperate, I tried to lift my head, only able to project a weak, tired voice.

"Please, spare a coin so I can eat?"

The person paused, conflicted, before walking quickly away in the opposite direction.

"Please."

My hunger worsened.

____________________________________

I pressed a hand against my stomach, swaying with the force of the terrible memory. I looked back into the mirror in my room. My eyes looked coldly back at me. It was a determined face, with a tinge of anger.

I would not fail to protect my family and myself this time around. I definitely could not fail.

Starving to death was painful, so my aim was to never to trust in love again.

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