by K. Lyn Hill
Her eyes roamed, studying the man in her company. "What's with this?" She gestured wildly with her shoulders to emphasize the added weight on her back.
"You will make the prince a laughingstock if you enter into the village in your undergarments. Since you refuse to dress yourself properly, you will cover up some of your lack of propriety."
She wanted to stab him with something pointed and blunt. Perhaps a nice stick? Seeing as though they were surrounded by a plethora of them, it was certainly an option.
Her hands slightly trembled as she shrugged off his jacket and threw it back at him, but she would be damned if she showed him any weakness. "No thanks, it smells like sweaty guy." He looked at her like she just dipped a baby squirrel in acid.
"You either put your clothing on or you wear my cloak. Either way, you will not appear as you are!" His rough voice rose, and it took everything in her to resist punching him in the face.
"Hmmmmmm. Watch me." A look of pure determination was all he would get from her.
The road was lined with rundown shacks, straw roofs and wood paneled doors. There was only one thing off about it; it looked too real.
Men and women roamed around the streets hard at their assigned tasks. A weapons forge shot out sparks while meters away women churned butter in giant urns. Her eyes danced from one person to the next while her heartbeat amplified to a dangerous crescendo. They were good actors. A little too good…
Shaking off the eeriness of the situation, she contemplated what it would be like to work at a place like this full time. She imagined it being entertaining, getting to be someone else for a day. A princess. Perhaps a queen. A snort escaped along with that ridiculous thought. She was no queen. Maybe the queen’s bodyguard but that would be about as far up as she would endeavor to climb on the ambitions ladder.
Slowly, people began noticing her, stopping what they were doing to stare. Their mouths opened freakishly wide; it was almost comical. Women shook their heads in shock while men gawked. Typical. A woman stood behind a dark-haired man whose lustful eyes were trained on Aerity’s chest. The woman, who Aerity assumed was his wife, zipped out her hand and wacked the back of his head. The laughter burst out of her before she could reign it in. Eli darted in front of her so fast that she almost slammed into his back.
"Do you understand yet why you should be wearing more clothes? Flies could set up permanent residence in their mouths and they wouldn’t even notice." He tossed quietly over his shoulder so only she could hear.
She leaned towards him, close enough for him to feel her breath on his ear. "I don't really think they are looking at me." Yeah. She was totally fibbing. They were hard core looking at her, but she wasn't about to admit it. "Maybe they are looking at the ogre who is accompanying me, thinking wow, they really do exist!" She waited for his final explosion, but it didn’t come. How disappointing. Only the beat red coloring of his face gave away how much he wanted to throttle her. Good. Served him right for being in such a horrendous mood.
Once they passed through the village, she tried to erase the whispers that followed.
"Did she run away with a lover?” Someone asked.
“Is that why she isn't clothed?" One woman gasped.
Another bluntly stated, "How can we be sure any heirs are really his when the prince marries her?" Um. Ouch.
Wiping the growing embarrassment from her face, she concluded that maybe Eli was a teeny tiny bit right about the clothes. Once again, it wasn't something she would ever admit to him. Her pride wouldn't allow it, even if it was taking a hit from these people's judgmental opinions. Oh well. She shrugged to herself. Couldn’t win em all. As soon as she figured out how to get home, she would be out of there. They could think what they wanted. She would never see them again. Most of the fairs she had heard of went on tour. Hopefully. An annoying little voice flew around her mind like a bothersome gnat. She wondered what state she was in and how she could have possibly gotten so drunk at a renaissance faire that she blacked out and lost shards of her memory. She supposed crazier things have happened, although that seemed a little excessive, even for her.
Lost in thought she somehow missed the immense entrance to an even bigger castle. Judging by the impressive size of the structure, it clearly took a long time to build. Perhaps they didn’t tour then.
Eli not so gently grabbed her arm, dragging her through the towering arch at the end of the drawbridge. Yeah. A freaking drawbridge.
She knew she looked like a tourist with her wide eyes and dropped jaw, but she couldn't believe the extensive details inside the gate. Every flower imaginable peppered the courtyard floor. Ornate columns were placed sporadically around the open space, neatly trimmed grape vines added a Victorian style to the Grecian looking setting. Guards were placed stoically, lining the wall with swords hanging at their waists. Again, the swords looked far too real to be costume.
Curiosity running away with her, she slipped away from Eli to investigate her new surroundings. A hiss captured her attention, but she ignored it, knowing it was Eli. Then she heard a whistle and she stopped dead. A whistle? Really? Like she was a dog that was supposed to follow at his heel. It made her think of those little kids with the leash backpacks. It was good thinking for a two-year-old but for a twenty-one-year-old, not so much.
Menacingly, she faced him, snarling like the dog he thought she was. "Did you just whistle at me?"
He appeared amused for the first time that day. "When one acts like a pet, one gets treated like a pet."
She blinked. Heavily. "You seem to forget our past Eli, which is quite disturbing considering you well know the level of havoc I can wreak on your life.”
His amusement morphed into speculation, then back into irritation. "I told you earlier, Princess, we have no connection. You are absolutely nothing to me. You are however the prince’s future bride and that is the only reason I am currently tolerating your company." Future bride? What part of his ass was he pulling this out of now?
Feeling cheeky, she chirped. "If I am to marry the prince, doesn't that make me your future queen?" It wasn’t meant to come out as a threat but it hung between them like one. Silence clung to the air as he stepped in far too close for her liking.
"Over my dead body will you be my queen." Shocked by the anger in his voice, she didn't even realize that a guard had taken hold of her arm. As she was escorted to a bedroom, her mind spun thinking about everything that was happening to her. She was in a weird place, with weird people, and whisked to a weird room. Her ‘best friend’ tied her up, dragged her to a castle, told her she was engaged to a prince and then aggressively promised to die before allowing her to be his queen. And after thinking about the poop log she was practically spooning with in the forest, she desperately needed a shower. So overall, in retrospect it was a pretty good day. She snorted.
Taking inventory of her "new rooms" (as the guard so eloquently put it), she came to a big, blinding, gigantic, life altering realization. Yup. A little dramatic again, but still. This took the cake.
She could see it now; this was most definitely worse than New Orleans.
Chapter Three
Damien
He wasn't one of those naive sniveling fools who believed in love at first sight, nor was he one to admit ever considering it a possibility; however, he wouldn't deny the severe tug on his chest when he laid eyes on her for the first time.
As the prince, his main obligations were well known. Marry and produce heirs. In his mind, fairy tales were laughable. Magical happy endings a pipe dream. The instant attraction between a man and a woman were fantastical notions to fill a child’s head with whimsical daydreams and unrealistic expectations. And yet, that one moment he had been in her company filled his mind with inklings of doubt. What if…
Thoughts of happiness didn't plague him but imagining possibilities did. What if the woman he was to marry could be more than a duty? He wasn’t flimflammed into believing he would find the perfect queen wrapped in one becoming package,
especially since his marriage mate had long been decided for him, and more importantly, his kingdom. But perhaps they could grow into something more. More than a responsibility. Something more tangible than a mere dream. He didn’t need a stunning beauty, just a personality to fill in any missing pieces.
Ceranthium and Aritrithria had been at odds ever since he could remember. Soldiers on both sides had equal firepower, although Aritrithria was known for their savage ways. Skirmishes frequently broke out leaving no other option. If their kingdoms wished for peace, this wedding was the only means to accomplish the feat. One final act to end all wars. Damien just hoped that the war didn’t simply continue in his own household.
Despite their engagement being contracted even before Siel was born, it had taken up until the year prior to officially make her acquaintance. And what a meeting it was. She was mesmerizing. He was simply a moth to her flame. Pulled in by her allure, warmed by her presence.
That was until he got close enough to feel her chill.
Cold, distant eyes raked over him as her perfect heart shaped lips formed a look of distain. Grasping her hand, he offered it a kiss causing a ripple to traverse down his spine. He had looked up just in time to see her turn away. Almost as if she couldn't stand the sight of him, let alone stomach his lips on any part of her skin.
There had been rumors. Many of which he had hoped were false. Her beauty was known throughout the land but trailing along behind it was of her selfishness and manipulation. It was no surprise to anyone that she ran before their wedding. The level of disgust he had seen on her face would forever haunt him. How was he to take her as his wife? Without her willingness, there would be no heirs and the thought of forcing her to bed him was just as sickening.
Chaos interrupted his thoughts as Elias barreled into the room. "You cannot marry her!" His heavy breathing contradicted how in shape he was.
His words clung to the air before sinking down towards the pit of Damien’s stomach. "You found her?"
“Of course I found her." Elias spat like it was a moronic question to ask. Anyone else would have gotten whipped for speaking to a prince in such a manner but Elias was a trusted friend and companion. He got away with much more than he should have been allowed. As long as his father didn’t witness it, Damien didn’t mind. He liked Elias speaking to him like a normal human being. Others formed impressions of the prince based off rumors and speculation. And most of the time, they weren’t forgiving or accurate.
"I had to tie her up like the animal she is. Pretty as a viper and I promise that she will strike you down and poison your very soul."
His passion made Damien pause. That wasn’t exactly promising news but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, he was to marry her. End of discussion. But as always, he humored Elias and the notion that he had an actual say in his life’s direction. It may have been ridiculous, but he truly wanted this marriage to work. Something between them could sprout and grow. If not into love, then at least a good friendship. It was hard to imagine being bonded to a wife that wanted nothing to do with him, so he would do his best to remedy that. "Oh, don't be absurd. I'm sure her bite will just leave a little mark. One I'm very anxious to feel on our wedding night." As much as Damien tried to make light of the situation, it did nothing to ease his apprehension.
Elias whole heartedly seemed to disagree, seething, as he settled his hands on the corner of Damien's desk. His anger wasn’t surprising. Elias harbored many demons that Damien neither knew about nor understood. Not that he hadn’t tried to ask his friend about it. Each time he had, the response only grew darker until Damien realized that some skeletons were better left buried. If nothing else, the events with his father had proven that. "She stripped down to her underclothes in front of me, refusing to put her dress back on. She is wild and untamed. I doubt you can even count on her virtue being intact. She was making perverse comments to me for the entirety of my company."
She was making lewd remarks? Was it only him she found so repulsive? He wouldn’t consider himself the most handsome man, thanks to the deep scar running down his face (compliments of his father), but he didn’t think himself horrid to look upon either.
"Did you enjoy the view?" He wasn’t quite able to stomp out all the jealousy in his sentence until the words had already barreled out. He almost cursed out loud at his weakness. No person should hold the power to make others feel weak. Another lesson learned from his dear old dad.
Elias' eyes snapped to his before Damien could school his features, leaving it far too open and exposed for his liking. “I promise I have no desire to steal your bride, destroying any hope we have at peace.” Elias was horrendous at masking his anger. It was palpable, reverberating off the walls like an echo. As calm as he tried to appear, Damien knew him better than that.
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Damien tried to move past the awkward conversation, pushing aside the hurt and anger in his chest. "Where is she?"
A mirthless laugh slipped out of his companion. "Probably sharpening her fangs!"
That wasn't a good sign. Not at all. "Thank you, Elias. I’ll take it from here." Take what from here? What was he supposed to do with a woman who hated him?
Then something Elias said clicked. "Wild and untamed?" The princess he met was far from untamed. Cold and calculated with hatred burning in her eyes, yes, but she was neither wild nor did she express anything other than distain. He didn't know quite how to take Elias' words. Maybe she was a poisonous viper, but Damien was only making a half jest when he joked of her bite. Just the thought of her presence was heating his blood already and she wasn't even in the same room.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he attempted to stave off the unwanted images flashing before his eyes. It was no time to fantasize, even if it was his future wife. He needed her to see she was more to him than just a business transaction. Maybe that would help temper her volatile storm. But as always, he needed to appear stoic and unaffected. “As a king, no one will think twice about ripping you to shreds. Friends, family, lovers will take and take until they have bled you dry. Trust no one. You must be impenetrable. Make them fear you. Only then will you have their respect and submission.” His father’s words always felt dirty, slinking around his mind like a disease. He didn’t wish to be anything like his father and yet he knew the king’s words to be true. Too many people deceive and cheat and if a ruler appeared to be too soft, there would be dire consequences.
He steeled his back and slipped out of his office door. The moment to be himself ended abruptly as he became visible to prying eyes. Turning to face the stationed guard, he tightened his features. Time to play hardened ruler, yet again. "Please assign someone to keep a close eye on Aerity. We can't have her running away again before our next wedding attempt.” The guard nodded, bowed and made his way down the hallway towards the princess’ wing. It was all a game. A façade. And he was so bloody tired of it. But all he could do was hope that maybe the princess’s revulsion for him was just a mask as well.
Chapter Four
Aerity
After Aerity was man handled and dragged through town by Eli, the new spawn of satan, she tried to make sense of everything that was happening. She hadn’t recognized anything on their walk to the castle earlier that day. The only logical conclusion she could draw was that she was losing her mind. Yup. That was most definitely it. Because it sounded far too cliché to wonder if this was all just a dream. Things like this didn’t just happen.
Pinching herself didn’t work. She saw no flashing, obnoxious lights shining in her pupils. Panic slowly crept up her throat. Deep breaths. In...out...She practiced one of Mya’s training exercises. “Use what you know to discover what you don't”. Fact number 1…she woke up tied to a tree in the middle of a forest with no clue where she was or how she got there. Fact number 2… everyone was dressed and talked weird. And Fact number 3…Eli was acting like he crawled out of the devil’s anis. Yup. She was screwed.
“Princess, I need to tighten the strings." The trembling voice of someone, who yet again wanted to trap her in a blasted corset, snapped her out of her pity party. A terrified doe like face stared back at her like prey would watch a hunter moments before the riffle shot fired. Aerity was the one who should be fearing for her life. If they kept dressing her in such air constricting contraptions, she wouldn’t live long enough to figure out the mystery of why she was there.
"I won't be able to breathe if you tie it any tighter, sweetheart." Aerity tried using calming tones to help the girl relax a little bit, which was kind of funny considering the swirling cloud of doom currently floating above her own head. The poor girl was shaking like a leaf. At the sound of her voice, the girl’s head shot up but not with fear. This time she looked inquisitive but Aerity could still make out the tension in her shoulders.
"What's your name?"
Her eyes seemed too big for her face as they shifted back to the floor only to slowly peek up timidly through thick curled eyelashes. “Carly."
"Carly, can you tell me where we are, hun?" The shock was evident on the girl’s face at her term of endearment. Or maybe it was her stupid question.
Regardless, Carly answered, "The palace, Princess." Although the girl tried to sound respectful, there was also a large hint of DUUUHHHHH in her tone. Yeah well, add it to the list. Aerity was full of DUUUHHHH right now.
Why did they all insist on calling her princess? "There’s no need to call me that. You can call me Aerity. Or Aer. That’s what my friends know me as."
Carly stumbled over her words. "I can't call you that my lady. You’re a princess."
Man, these people were wacked out. Her? A princess? Silly girl, tricks are for kids. She had more scars on her body than most other women got in a lifetime. She had seen a lot in her twenty-one years of living. Her father gave up keeping her in the dark to the evil of this world. She used it. Honed it. She was nobody’s princess. She was a fighter. Whatever was happening now, she would take it like a man. Well, maybe like a woMAN. HAHA. Get it?