Loving a Prince Charming

by Danielle Monsch

  “And his engagement to Rosamund.” The words had a bitter, ashy aftertaste to them, and a childish urge to spit struck.

  Her father stroked her hair the way he had since she was a little girl. “I am not the king’s confidant and I do not understand his actions lately in regards to the engagement, but I do know His Majesty is determined this marriage take place, and that it is of the utmost importance.”

  Kira gave her father a final squeeze then stood, taking several steps away from his embrace. The comfort was wonderful, but she needed to deal with this alone. It was her burden to bear. “I won’t ever come between Seth and his kingdom. I won’t… -I won’t tear his heart in two. I won’t have him regret what is his greatest gift.”

  He seemed to understand her need for distance since he stayed seated. “I know you won’t. Never doubt you are as honorable as he is, Kira. You couldn’t love him as well as you do if you weren’t.”

  It was only a fraction, but his words lightened the load in her heart. For the second time that night, she lifted her arm to rub against wet eyes. “I need to go for a ride. I need to be alone.”

  Taren looked dubious. “You’re distracted right now and an easy mark. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Only into town. Riding away from the castle will start to clear my head. I won’t let myself become a mark, ever.”

  It took several moments, but the nod of agreement did indeed come. “Do what you need to do, but be back before morning.”

  “Promise.”

  And while she did keep her wits enough that she was never in danger from an enemy, Kira’s meandering journey brought her to an area of the city she had not visited before. A small tavern, brightly lit and oddly inviting, drew her eye, and after stabling her horse Kira walked inside.

  It was half-filled, the talk subdued and the clientele older, but there was a strain of merriment for all that. Kira sat at the bar.

  “What can I get for you, child?” From behind the door an older lady walked out, gray-haired and cherub-cheeked. Her smile was warmth personified and every tense muscle in Kira’s body relaxed as she basked in the woman’s presence.

  “Nothing too strong. A cider please.”

  “Of course, of course.” The woman bustled about the bar. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.”

  “First time here. Name’s Kira – thank you,” she added, as the woman set the glass in front of her.

  “I’m Sara,” came the reply. “And while I find it fascinating, not many young ladies come in here with a sword at their side. Care to share your story?”

  With a shrug, Kira answered, “It’s nothing world-shaking. My father believes that a woman should be able to protect herself. He taught me.”

  The look on Sara’s face was pure approval, and her voice held not a hint of mockery. “Good for him! An admirable man. Men like him are part of the reason women will have equal rights one day.”

  Kira took a sip of the cider, needing both a moment to compose her thoughts as well as a drink to soothe her parched throat. The movement pulled her sleeve away from her wrist, exposing skin.

  The moment Kira put her glass down, Sara picked up her arm and twisted it slightly so her inner wrist was visible. “What an unusual birthmark.”

  The intricate bundle of lines on Kira’s skin was only an inch wide, but it was such a complex design that people often mistook it for a brand at first. “Yeah, it is unique. I like it.”

  Sara rubbed her thumb over the mark. “Anyone who knows the old ways would say you were fairy-marked.”

  Kira looked up from the mark to see the older woman staring at her, the blue of her eyes as kindly as ever, but there was force there as well, and a depth of knowledge Kira was going to drown in.

  “Excuse me, please. Are there any rooms available?”

  That someone had gotten so close without her noticing embarrassed Kira, though it was an unassuming man with his equally unassuming wife and son. She pulled her arm from Sara and leaned back, her father’s warnings zinging through her mind with an audible snap.

  “Of course we have a room. Can’t let this handsome little man not have a roof over his head.” Sara was back to being the grandmother of all as she bustled the family in and got them settled.

  Kira took in the inhabitants of the tavern again, observing them a little more carefully than she had the first time. They all looked happy and grateful, that was true, but their happiness was of the same variety as the family that just came in. It was a gratitude that they had found an oasis in the midst of their troubles and that they could lay down their worries for a little while.

  Sara returned. “More to drink?”

  “No, thank you. Is something going on, some sort of trouble?”

  A spark shot through Sara’s eyes and she leaned forward, motioning Kira closer in a way that screamed she had good gossip to share. “They are refugees from the city of Tolshire.”

  King Matthias’s city. Seth’s fiancée’s city. “I have heard nothing about Tolshire being in any sort of trouble.”

  Sara’s lips thinned. “It’s being kept very hush-hush. The refugees aren’t supposed to be coming here. The soldiers are herding them to camps, but the camps are crowded and, frankly, unlivable, and as a result many of them are escaping and taking their chances to come here.”

  Kira locked her hand around her empty glass, needing something to hold on to. “Why? What’s happened there?”

  “The curse happened.”

  The curse. That damned curse that ruled over every moment of Seth’s life – and, by extension, her own. Kira shook her head. “The curse hasn’t been fulfilled. There would be talk of nothing else if it was. No one could keep that secret.”

  “No, at least, I haven’t heard that it was. What I have heard is that the fairy who cast the curse left a message for the king. To punish the king for being so arrogant about keeping his daughter safe all these years, when she finally does succumb to the curse, a dragon will appear in the city to imprison her forever. So the king has ordered the city evacuated until her twenty-third birthday is over.”

  Damn. Bad. Bad. This was so bad. If Rosamund did succumb to the curse, Seth wouldn’t let a dragon stop him from trying to save her. The only problem with that was while Seth was a decent fighter, he was in no way experienced enough to slay a dragon.

  He still couldn’t beat her dad.

  Kira threw money on the table and ran for her horse.

  Chapter Four

  If he had been asleep, the light taps on the window would still have woken him. It was a lifelong signal between Kira and him and the only noise in the world guaranteed to rouse him.

  But he wasn’t asleep. He had been unable to clear his mind of that damned perfect curve of Kira’s top lip, and the image of how her eyes had changed and darkened was on a constant loop. And now he headed towards the window to let in the cause of all of tonight’s turmoil.

  At the sight of her, all his thoughts of how sunlight lit her hair or how the curve of her neck was more appealing to him than other ladies’ half-exposed bosoms faded. Her face was serious in a way she rarely was with him, outside of those rare moments she thought him in danger.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t answer right away, instead pacing the long length of his room. Seth knew that the worse the news she had to tell, the more Kira needed to collect herself before she began to speak, and considering she’d circled the room three times and still had not looked up from the carpet, this was going to be very bad.

  Kira pulled herself up, her body going soldier straight and battle-ready. Another bad sign. “I heard some very disturbing news in town. A part of me doesn’t want to tell you, but…”

  She started pacing again. And while her actions worried him, it didn’t stop a slow flame of contentment from burrowing itself in his chest. Her distress was because this had something to do with him. Her anger and frustration at the situation was because he was involved.

 
; Kira was her most fascinating in battle mode, and the more she paced the more that part of her came to the fore. Her stride lengthened and firmed, her steps near gliding over the carpet, the walk of someone who was ready to battle in any direction at a moment’s notice. Her posture shifted so her sword was within reach and ready to draw without any obstacles to slow the action. Her face became unreadable. Not angry, but blank, with no emotions an enemy could use to detect her next movement.

  She walked toward him again, and he wanted to gather her up in his arms and swing her around. Her face would lose the blankness and her mouth would form an O of shocked surprise, a development he’d take advantage of by placing his mouth on hers. Her lips would be warm and soft, and when they parted he would slide his tongue inside and battle with hers.

  Seth gasped, the image so strong he could almost believe her taste was on his tongue. “Kira!” he shouted, as much to shock himself as it was to shock her.

  It worked. She stopped, her face losing the blankness. Replacing it first was surprise, followed by determination and worry, before finally plunging into a deep-seated misery. She drew in a deep breath. “Sorry. I think for the first time, I really don’t know what to do.”

  Kira was bossy and always knew what to do, even when she didn’t – she made a decision and went for it. This indecision did not suit her, and he didn’t want to see it on her again. “You do what we’ve always done. We tell each other and figure it out together.”

  The misery was still etched too deep into her beautiful face, but a genuine smile formed on her lips and her eyes shifted from a dark and stormy green to a brighter, more verdant shade. “Yeah, that’s what we do. Whatever’s before us, we figure it out together.”

  Seth rose, using the same gentle movements he would to calm a bucking filly. He reached out and took her hands in his, entwining their fingers and rubbing his thumb over the birthmark on the inside of her wrist, a move he always used when her emotions were riding high. “What’s happening?”

  She cleared her throat and blanked her face. This time was on purpose, the way a soldier would when giving a disturbing report to a superior officer, devoid of any personal hurt or worry. “Tolshire has been evacuated by order of King Matthias. There has been another layer added to the curse. The fairy who cursed Rosamund said that when the curse is fulfilled, a dragon will appear to attack anyone coming to save her. The residents of Tolshire are being herded to refugee camps and instructed to not return to the city until after Rosamund’s twenty-third birthday.”

  The air around him became weighted, making breathing impossible. His lungs could not bring in enough air no matter how hard his chest worked.

  Warm fingers squeezed his own ice-cold ones. “Seth,” her beloved voice whispered, and only the warmth the bone-deep contentment her presence always provided kept the ice from sinking into marrow and muscle and straight into the heart of him.

  Stay in the castle.

  Damn his father. What game was he playing? “My father knows,” he said, and Kira’s eyes widened as the same realization hit her.

  “Why would he not tell you?”

  Seth shook his head. “My father doesn’t tell me most things. We have to try Taren and see what he knows.”

  They snuck out the window and made their way to the little house Kira lived in with her father. They opened the door to find Taren still awake, reading a book beside the fire. The Captain of the Guard looked up as they entered but said nothing, his gaze expectant and weary.

  A second chair was pulled in front of the fire, separated from Taren by a small table. On the table were two cups of half-finished tea. Seth glanced around but no other visitors announced themselves. Taren volunteered nothing, so Seth spoke first. “Tolshire is being evacuated. The curse has been expanded. Why was I not told?”

  Taren put his book down beside the teacup nearest him. “His Majesty did not want you to know.”

  “Not a good enough reason from you,” Seth said, anger propelling him forward until he towered over the older man. “You’ve always told me things the king wished to keep from me when it’s the right thing for me to know. Why is this time different?”

  Taren sighed and turned to look into the fire. For the first time, it struck Seth how old the man looked. Deep lines grooved themselves into every inch of skin and his face had an ashy undertone that the firelight couldn’t quite hide. The man was a warrior of unparalleled caliber even now, but his best days were far, far behind him.

  The firelight highlighted an internal battle going on behind the man’s eyes. Seth turned to Kira, but for once her eyes were not on him. Instead she too was looking at her father, her own confusion at the man’s odd behavior reflected in her face.

  “This damned curse,” Taren murmured, a small speck of sound that Seth wasn’t sure was meant for his audience. “Pride brought it about, and pride has kept it alive.”

  “Taren?” Seth asked, taking the seat across from the man.

  The man’s gaze shifted to him then. He nodded, coming to terms with something inside of himself. “I’ll tell you all I know. I don’t know everything, but at least you’ll be a little less in the dark.”

  Kira came over and sat on the arm of Seth’s chair, waiting for what her father had to say.

  Without preamble, Taren began. “The curse began because King Matthias insulted a ruler of the magical kingdom, The Elf King, who sent an emissary to tell Matthias he and Queen Esmerelda would have a daughter and he wanted to wed her to one of his warriors. King Matthias would have none of that. He told the emissary his daughter was a princess and would never be so low as to marry a warrior. He dismissed the man without any courtesy.”

  “That was what started all of this?” Seth had never known. What a ridiculous reason to destroy a child’s life. “The Elf King is a low being.”

  “No argument,” agreed Taren. “But while I doubt the Elf King is the type to react well to any rejection, the fact that Matthias did it so publicly and with so much derision was what assured the fairy ruler would strike back. Matthias and your father had always had an understanding that their children would be married, and with the news that Matthias’s child was a girl, they turned around and announced to both kingdoms the news of the engagement.”

  “Did the Elf King have any part of Queen Esmerelda’s death?” Kira asked as she rubbed her palm over her thigh, a gesture she often displayed when she was upset. Seth reached out and enfolded her hand in his.

  “We don’t know. We don’t think so. He seems the type that if he was indeed instrumental, he would announce it rather than keeping silent.” Taren picked up his cup and drained whatever liquid was left. “Still, Esmerelda’s death was an ill omen and, looking back, the start of it all. Because Rosamund was the firstborn and because they had to make the engagement official, neither king would not delay the introduction ceremony, but we all felt it was a mistake. We – I – begged them to wait. I didn’t know if the Elf King would ever forget, but I wanted to at least give him a chance to. They would not. They said they had a plan.”

  “The fairies,” Seth supplied.

  Taren nodded. “The fairies. Esmerelda was from a blessed kingdom, one with great ties to magic. It was the reason the Elf King sought their daughter in the first place. The fairies would be there to bless the child. Our kings hoped that the presence of Esmerelda’s magical kin would dissuade the Elf King from pursuing any vendetta.”

  “Instead it probably spurred the Elf King on, because he could not allow himself to appear weak in front of beings he dealt with in his own lands,” Seth finished.

  “That was what I thought too, and told King Thomas as well. He wouldn’t listen. The Elf King waited until after the blessing ceremony was finished. That was done with only the family in the privacy of the castle. He chose to strike during the public portion of the ceremony.”

  Now this part Seth had heard before, about the giant raven which had flown down and made the grim pronouncement that the child was cursed and
would stick her finger with the spindle of a spinning wheel, falling into an eternal slumber, with only true love’s kiss able to break the spell. From all accounts chaos ensued, with the guards trying to kill the bird and people scattering from the evil magic. Matthias squirrelled Rosamund away after that, and no one saw her again.

  “Why couldn’t the fairies reverse the curse?” Kira asked, her fingers squeezing Seth’s.

  “I don’t know. I know they were asked and they didn’t.” Taren ran his own palms over his thighs, echoing his daughter’s earlier nervous gesture. “Kira, I have something to tell you.”

  Taren sounded scared, the first time in memory Seth had ever associated that emotion with this man. Kira settled into stillness, her fingers going lax in Seth’s grasp. “What is it?”

  “I was never going to tell you this, but I have been in discussions recently, discussions of the old days. After much thought, I think you knowing is the best way to move forward and to get away from this curse.”

  A fine tremor ran through Kira’s form. Taren’s fear was unsettling to Seth, but it was wrecking his daughter. “What is it?”

  Taren licked his lips. “A week after the raven delivered the curse, King Thomas came to me. My wife had been dead a very short time. I sometimes wondered if somehow her death was part of the evil that had been poisoning us.” A different grief fell over the man then, as for a moment his memories of his departed wife were almost tangible behind his eyes.

  He shook them off and continued. “King Thomas said that plans had been made, and that I was to help rebuild the kingdom…” Taren tore his gaze away from them and went back to the fire. The flames highlighted the unshed tears in the man’s eyes. He paused for several moments, and then said, his voice regret personified, “You are not my daughter, Kira. King Thomas gave you to me when you were just a baby for me to raise. He said you were to be trained as a warrior and that you’d be Seth’s companion and eventual guard.”