Chapter 3: Secrets and Sacrifice

My mother was the First Lady; I was the privileged, legitimate daughter.

I loved sneaking out of the mansion in pretty dresses, hunting for Caleb. At night, I’d throw a denim jacket over my shoulders, careful not to smudge my lipstick, and slip down the back stairs—hoping the guards were distracted by the game on TV.

He was still District Attorney then. I trailed him through his cases; the courthouse was my secret playground, the click of my heels on the linoleum music to my ears.

That day, the sky was a flawless blue.

Once again, I blocked his path at the courthouse, pleading to come along.

He gave me that helpless look. I bristled, hands on my hips: "Don’t give me that look! Dad already said I could come, so you’re stuck with me."

Caleb arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Should I go double-check with him, or are you gonna keep following me around all day?"

I jumped in front of him: "No, no—Dad’s busy with state stuff, don’t bother him!"

The deputies smirked behind their desks, trying not to laugh.

Suddenly, someone burst in: "Sir, the Duke family’s son is harassing people. We’ve got the evidence, but without a court order, our guys can’t get in."

Caleb didn’t hesitate. "Urgent calls for urgent action. Take some men and give a verbal order first—I’ll head to City Hall and get the Mayor’s signature."

I blinked. You can do that? Even with all my privilege, the law was still a mystery.

Caleb pulled me onto the police cruiser, taking off at full speed.

I punched his shoulder, fuming. He just grinned, his dimple deepening, enjoying every second.

It took everything I had to sneak out of the house—and here he was, making it look easy.

Mr. Price could lie with a straight face.

When I glared at him, Caleb actually blushed. He cleared his throat, trying to sound official: "I did it for work. You’re the one with the fake permission slip."

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, right.

He was always so upright, so disciplined—except for the rare flash of mischief when he was working. Sometimes I wondered if I was the only one who ever saw it.

"Caleb, what do you want most?"

"To rise to the top, judge right from wrong, uphold the law, and serve the people."

I hesitated. "What about me?"

I felt shy. "I just want to be with Mom and Dad, and… and chase cases with you. Why, you don’t want to?"

Family meant everything.

Caleb was my true love.

He smiled. "That’s my good fortune. I want to be with you, year after year, sharing every spring."

But then, the conflict with Silver Hollow exploded.

The chief demanded a daughter for an arranged marriage—if we sent one, Silver Hollow would retreat and pay a million-dollar tribute every year.

Even Governor Shannon, who’d always been my mother’s rival, cursed in her office: how dare those upstarts demand the legitimate daughter?

Our army was losing. They traded a daughter for peace.

City Hall was a war zone—debate raging, war or peace, who would go.

Dad was wavering, looking for a scapegoat. I was born into the right family at the wrong time.

This was his love for me—a daughter meant less than land.

Caleb, fearing for the Mayor, filed a report: "A daughter is worth a thousand soldiers."

Even though I loved him. Even though I was his fiancée.

Caleb Price. Middle name James. All humility and righteousness, the perfect public servant.

Before the people, what was love?

Like chasing the moon in a lake—beautiful, but you’ll never touch it.