Kiss of the Royal

by Lindsey Duga

  “It’s fine,” I told Weldan, although I knew for a fact that the suit came from the Battle of Galliore during the great griffin invasion. “It’s just an old decoration.” How had he crashed into it walking down such a wide corridor? Could anyone be so clumsy?

  Weldan continued forward without another glance at Zach. I followed him, watching Zach over my shoulder, who was now picking up the pieces of armor. His movements were fluid and graceful as he plucked up the heavy pieces and set them aside—certainly not movements of someone who would’ve knocked it over in the first place.

  We came to the dining hall. The training grounds outside were visible through tall open windows bordered by maroon curtains sporting the Legion emblem. The Saevallans shed their heavy armor and cloaks and handed them off to the array of servants before heading to the long brucel-wood tables. In no time, Weldan and I were left standing alone, watching the rest of his Royals served plates piled with hot quail eggs and brien-peppered sausage, herb and honey bread with mint yogurt, and fresh strawberries topped with sugar cream.

  I gestured to the end of a table, and we sat across from each other.

  “To be honest, princess, there are few in the entire land who could be worthy of bearing the Mark of Myriana.” Weldan nodded in thanks to a servant who brought him a goblet and a plate of steaming food. “But…” He began, pausing to take a sip from his cup, “if anyone has the raw skills, it is Zach.”

  So I’d heard. It was still hard to rectify the unbelievable rumors of the magnificent warrior with a man who laughed at crude jokes and tripped over hall decorations. “You mean the one who just dismembered a suit of armor?” I said with a teasing smile.

  “Well, to be fair, he was probably pushed.”

  I blinked. “Why?”

  “Kendra is always finding an excuse to pick a fight with him. They have a history.”

  “They were partners, then?”

  “Oh Heavenly Queen, no. They’d probably kill each other before they even noticed the monsters. Besides…Kendra is my partner.”

  I felt a twinge of disappointment. If Zach turned out to be a bad match for me, I would’ve liked to have had Weldan as a possible option. He was much more the warrior I’d imagined.

  “Sometimes I joke that they’re jealous of each other. They both try to monopolize my attention.” Weldan chuckled. “But Kendra has problems with…well, you can see that Zach is a tad unorthodox.”

  I watched Zach enter the dining hall, holding the suit of armor’s helmet under his arm. With the stealth of a thief, he swiped a plate of fruit off a passing servant’s tray and replaced it with the helmet. He plucked an orange off the stolen plate and tossed it into the air, then caught it while dodging and grabbing a chunk of sourdough bread from another servant’s tray. He sauntered over to a table, sat by himself, and began to peel the orange.

  It seemed strange to me that a young man who had acted so clumsily before, pushing through his comrades and being manhandled by his Commander, moved about with such finesse now. Was it all a facade?

  “Yes, I can see that,” I said. “Truthfully, it looks like he just walked in off the streets.”

  Weldan took a bite of toasted herb bread dripping with mulberry jelly. He chewed slowly and swallowed. “Actually, he did. He came to us, claiming his birthright as a half prince. He may be uncouth and annoying, but he’s a good man and a loyal friend. Though he’s never respected authority, which doesn’t make it easy on me as his acting Commander.” Weldan rolled his eyes. “But mark my words, Zach is the one you need. He is, in fact, a legendary swordsman. The rumors you have heard of him are all painfully true.”

  It had been fun to entertain the idea of a warrior like that with my sisters, but now it was getting ridiculous. I leaned forward, raising a brow. “Oh come on, Prince Weldan, you and I both know that—”

  “Excuse me, princess,” Weldan began, “I hate to interrupt, but I just remembered that I must send a carrier bird to report to the Council at Saevall that we made it here safely.”

  “Of course.” I motioned to a servant, and the young maid hurried to our table. “Please take the Commander to the aviary and see that he has the rest of his meal sent to his room.”

  The servant curtsied, and Weldan thanked me, strolling off after the maid, his long scarlet cloak trailing behind him.

  Sighing, I stared at the table, my eyes tracing the intricate swirl designs in the wood. The fact that Weldan had vouched for Zach’s strength was a good sign. However, his insistence that such rumors were true was discreditable.

  I was still staring at the wood as a single bright-red strawberry rolled into my view. I looked up.

  Zach had taken Weldan’s place with the stealth and silence of a thief, and he was watching me with yet another smile, a plate of fruit in front of him. “You’re right. I’ve never had better,” he said, taking a bite of a strawberry.

  “I’m glad you like them.” Sitting so close, I took in details I hadn’t noticed during our introductions. His hair was kept short, not a single strand falling into his hazel eyes, and windswept to the side, the color of the darkest leather saddle. He had the beginnings of a beard, with an odd streak of bare skin along his jaw. I wondered if it was because of a scar.

  “So what was my Royal Commander saying about me?” Zach asked, raising an eyebrow.

  My mouth almost twitched into a smile. “He told me you are…unorthodox.”

  Zach’s grin stretched. “To say the least, princess.”

  “But also that you are a legendary swordsman.”

  “Did he now?” Zach leaned back and folded his arms, his grin falling slightly.

  I realized now I could put all those rumors to bed. After all, their very source sat right before me. Glancing around at the rest of the western Royals, I made sure they were still engaged in their meals and conversations. I wanted to hear this directly from Zach, with no interjections from anyone else. I wanted the truth.

  “Prince Zach—”

  “Just Zach.”

  Having me drop his title was a definite indication he hadn’t been in the Legion for long. His commoner upbringing must be deeply ingrained. “Zach, there are some fairly…amazing rumors about your skills. I was wondering if any of them were true.”

  Zach snorted and shook his head. “You’ll have to be more specific. Which rumors?” He bit into another strawberry.

  “Did you really take a troll’s lair down by yourself? Absent partner?”

  Zach stared at me, chewing slowly. Finally, he swallowed and said, “You’ve heard about me, but I know next to nothing about you.”

  “No one’s told you about me?” I asked, too surprised to be annoyed that he evaded a question he’d invited me to ask.

  “I didn’t say that.” He placed the strawberry stem back on his plate. “It’s just that I don’t take much stock in rumors. I prefer to get to know the person myself.”

  The smirk told me he wasn’t just referring to the rumors about me—but of course now I was curious as to what he’d heard. Was that his way of telling me I shouldn’t believe all the rumors about him?

  “Milady, if you don’t finish eating soon you’ll be late for your class.”

  I glanced up to see Brom standing next to the table.

  “Sacred Sisters,” I muttered. I’d forgotten that I’d swapped a class with Tulia so she could rest after returning from patrol. I stood and gave a short bow to Zach. “Apologies, Pri—Zach. I have a class to teach. I hope to see you at supper.”

  Zach smiled and went back to his food. With one last glance at my potential partner, who was now leaning over and swiping a chocolate croissant off an unsuspecting Kendra’s plate, I suppressed a small giggle, and followed Brom out of the dining hall.

  …

  The moment I entered the classroom I unfastened my cloak and tossed it onto the back of the lecturer’s chair. It wasn’t often that the Legion princesses or princes taught classes, since most of the time we were either training or out o
n assignment, but the Mages felt it was important for the young recruits to learn from their superiors and establish a bond well before the battlefield.

  With a glance at the young princess recruits and their looks of reverence, I found I quite agreed.

  “Princess Tulia is resting from her time out on patrol, so she requested I fill in for her.” I scanned the students’ faces as they sat in neat rows behind finely polished wooden desks. The girls in this class were all under ten years old. “Good morning, ladies.”

  At once, the princesses stood and curtsied in the same manner I had greeted Zach. “Good morning, Princess Ivy,” they said in unison.

  “Let us begin with prayer. Would one brave princess like to lead us?”

  A few timid hands rose into the air, and I picked the smallest. The little girl bowed her head and clasped her hands across her stomach. We all copied her prayer stance.

  “O Sacred Sisters, daughters of holly and thistle.” Her words started shaky but grew stronger as she continued. “Help us ignite the magic of our brethren and guide us through the darkness with your divine light. It is with your blood that we stand strong. And it is by your blood that we reign.”

  “Long live the Royals,” the class said in unison, “the Light against the Darkness.”

  “Thank you, princess,” I said to her with a smile. “Everyone may sit.”

  Roughly a dozen girls all slid back into their chairs.

  I glanced at the lesson plan Tulia had left on the desk. “You’re on History? How long have you been here?” History was something Mages taught. The Legion princesses offered more hands-on lessons, which I intended to do.

  A princess with ebony skin raised her hand. “Seven days, Your Highness.”

  Tulia hadn’t mentioned that her class would be the newest recruits, and I was surprised I hadn’t recognized any. Then again, a week ago I was on patrol and got hit with the dwarf’s locking curse. It just now occurred to me that I had missed the spring initiation ceremony. It wasn’t so important anymore, though, since a new ceremony was held at the beginning of every season now instead of annually.

  I sighed. It had been a long time since I’d taught the basics. “All right. Who wants to recite the story of our founders?”

  No one moved. I placed my hands on my hips. “Don’t be shy. Anyone who’s been to chapel knows the story.” Chapels throughout the four kingdoms had beautiful stained glass and paintings of the story of Myriana and Saevalla. Even if the girls had never read a history textbook, our religious teachings made sure they knew of our holy queens’ origins.

  The girls exchanged glances before one with short blond hair stood, tugging on the hems of her sleeves.

  “Go ahead,” I said with a small dip of my chin.

  “Long ago, before the Royal Legion existed,” she began, “before queens, kings, princesses, and princes ruled the four kingdoms, there lived a lonely old woman in the great northern forests. Her cabin sat alone at the base of the Wu-Hyll Mountains. She was called Maid Freida. Having lived by herself for many years, she longed for children.”

  The cadence and eloquence of how the young girl spoke surprised me. Part of me wondered if she had been around the Romantica, and if she had picked up their alluring way of telling stories. I hoped not. The Romantica’s heretical teachings of Love were woven into their stories, songs, and plays. A small child being around the Romantica’s influences, even in innocent settings like festivals, could have long-lasting detrimental effects, especially for a Royal. Any knowledge or belief in Romantica ways needed to be rectified immediately with the Legion’s teachings.

  Then again, the girl could just have a natural talent for storytelling.

  “One cold morning,” the little girl continued, “while Maid Freida was picking up branches, she heard an infant crying. Then two infants…”

  My eyes slipped closed as I listened, transported back in time to when I was no more than five years old and spent my days in a luxurious bedroom with satin pillows and curtains. I sat huddled in the lap of my sister, Clover, her arms draped over my shoulders and her chin resting atop my head. Her scent of vanilla and cinnamon tickled my nose.

  My sister’s voice melded with that of the young princess’s, and soon it was Clover telling me the story again…

  “She followed the cries to find two bundles of red-cheeked babes sheltered under bushes of holly and thistle. Maid Freida took them home to her cabin and raised the two girls as her own. She named them Myriana Holly and Saevalla Thistle.”

  I reached up and tugged one of Clover’s dark tresses. “And that’s why we’re also named after flora.”

  Clover’s light fingers danced over the bridge of freckles across my nose. “That’s right, little wisp, we bear her name as our surname, and as direct descendants we’re named after flora. Now, will you let me finish the story?”

  I giggled and swatted her hand away. She caught my small fingers and squeezed them, then continued the story I’d already heard a thousand times.

  “One day, Myriana and Saevalla came across a young hunter traveling through the woods. He told them his name was Raed and he was on his way to the dwarven mines to trade his fine animal skins for jewels the dwarves mined deep within the Wu-Hyll Mountains. Although Myriana and Saevalla begged Raed not to go, he left them with crowns of flowers for their hair and continued on his way.”

  I whimpered in Clover’s lap, and she laughed softly, brushing the hair from my forehead. “Would you like me to stop?” she asked.

  “No, keep going,” I pleaded.

  “One winter’s night, a hideous beast came to Maid Freida’s cabin. But the beast meant no harm, and he collapsed from exhaustion on their doorstep. Together, the girls and Maid Freida brought the beast in, fed him, and nursed him to health.

  “Through the winter months the beast stayed with them and sometimes wove together crowns of holly and thistle for their hair. One day, when Myriana was out gathering herbs, she found the shredded cloak of the hunter, Raed, not far from the entrance to the dwarven caves. Remembering the flower crowns he’d woven, Myriana realized that the dwarves must have placed a curse on Raed, turning him into a beast.

  “Desperate to save Raed and seek vengeance against the dwarves, Myriana journeyed to the mines within the Wu-Hyll Mountains. Her sister, Saevalla, ever protective of Myriana, went with her, and—”

  “I’d go, Clover,” I interrupted, pressing my back into my sister’s chest. “Like Saevalla, I’d go with you.”

  Clover leaned over me and kissed my forehead. “I know, Ivy. I’d do the same for you. That’s what sisters do.”

  I shot a glance at the locked door to our bedroom. Our mother was still away. We were still safe. I looked up at Clover. “Then what happened?”

  “Raed followed the two of them to the mines and arrived just as a dwarf was about to attack them with a great ax,” Clover continued. “He jumped in to save the sisters and was gravely wounded. It was then that Myriana bestowed upon him the first Kiss that—”

  Giggles erupted around me, and I was brought back to the present, back to the classroom full of princesses.

  I pulled myself out of the remnants of my memory and smiled at my students. “What? You don’t think kissing a beast’s snout would be pleasant?”

  The giggling escalated to laughter, and I motioned for them to calm down. I flicked my hand back to the princess. “Keep going… You’re doing great.”

  The girl beamed. “Myriana’s sacred Kiss held power unlike anything humans or mages had ever seen. Her Kiss turned the beast back into a man and gave him the strength of ten men. With the power of her Kiss, he was able to slay the dwarf.”

  I gestured for the girl to take a seat. “Well done, princess.” She was an excellent storyteller, like Clover, and I felt guilty for thinking she grew up around Romantica. She didn’t even mention the True Love’s Kiss version that the Romantica cults liked to spread. Then again, even recruits should know to never utter such blasphemy. “Now, who
can finish the story?”

  Another princess with brown ringlets stood. “Myriana, Saevalla, and Raed took the dwarves’ treasure and built the kingdom of Myria, establishing themselves as the first Royals and founders of the Legion. To continue the magic in their bloodline, Myriana and Raed produced an heir.”

  The girl paused, hesitating. It was common for everyone to avoid the next part of our history. Not many liked discussing the origin of the Wicked Queen. But it was important to never forget the evil we were up against.

  “Continue,” I said.

  Emboldened, the girl threw back her shoulders. “The brothers of the dwarf that King Raed had slain stole the first heir. As the ultimate act of revenge, the dwarves cursed the baby princess so terribly that she became a creature of darkness herself—the Evil Queen.”

  The young princesses shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

  “To protect the lands against the Evil Queen, Myriana and Raed produced more heirs with their power, and, to add more soldiers to the war, Raed and Saevalla also produced heirs blessed with the same power.”

  “And the other lands?”

  “Under Myriana’s teachings, other lands used the Kiss to drive back wicked creatures and establish their own kingdoms.” The girl cleared her throat. “For five centuries, the Legion has ruled throughout the Lands, keeping the Forces of Darkness at bay, protecting the people and teaching its subjects to make decisions through logic and reason, not emotions.”

  “And how do we teach them?” I prompted.

  “We lead by example.”

  I indicated that the girl could sit back down. “Correct. We practice what we preach, girls. As Queen Gardenia Myriana once said, perish emotions and vanquish doubts, and we will drive out the Forces. Which brings us back to why we’re all here: monsters. Our five-hundred-year war against the Evil Queen and her Forces of Darkness. Now, you are all princess recruits, but one day you will be full Royals of the Legion and follow your princes into battles against goblins, trolls, witches, dragons, wraiths, griffins…” I paused and looked at their nervous faces. One girl in the front row looked to be only seven years old. She had a large bruise under her eye, perhaps from her first sparring class. I crossed to her desk, took her hand, and gently pulled her up. “…but it is with your power, your Kiss, that we stand a chance against these creatures. What’s your name, princess?”