Sitting up, I arched my chin to get a better look. As my eyes focused, they settled on an imposing man wearing a cowboy hat, a white cotton shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and worn denim jeans, a little too dirty for my taste. But with blue eyes that were more daring than sensitive, he was definitely cute. Okay, the words explosively handsome came to mind, even if he did leave me confused. “There aren’t any seats,” I declared with assurance.
“Well, yeah that’s because it’s taken.” He raised his tan hand out in a gesture to himself. “You’re inmyfield, and it’s all taken.”
Confused by his lackluster analogy, I dramatically scanned both sides as exasperation seeded in my chest. Nothing but green rolling hills of prairie for miles around. I was certain of that because I’d been napping in this very spot since I was a little girl. Clearly, this man was playing some sort of game. Even if he was handsome, he was being rude. I didn’t care for the way he stood way too close, towering over me. His demanding presence made me want to shrink back, or even race out of here. Exceptfor the fact that this wasmynapping spot, I stayed. “But, sir, it’s an open field.”
Anticipating his lips would curl, and he’d apologize for being rude, I was wrong. He held his gaze steady in a more piercing than inviting manner. “Will you please leave?”
I startled for the second time, and scrambled to my feet, taking care not to trip over my bustling skirt.Make me!I yelled in my head, but years of etiquette school had me biting my tongue.Nobody ever talked to me like that!Not that I put myself on a pedestal, but people always respected me. Sharply angling my elbow like a spartan cheerleader, I placed one hand on my hip and fumbled for the perfect reply. One to outwit him. One to outsmart him. One to make him feel terrible. “Well, enjoy being lonely!” I sputtered back. “Good day to you, sir!” I spun on my heel and sped off.
I had been enjoying one of the best naps of my life, out in the fresh air, letting the sun warm me with its lullaby rays. Clearly, this rude man wasn’t going to let me be. It was better to leave than to argue with stupidity. I tossed a haughty look over my shoulder, and noisily hmphed back before adding in a mutter loud enough for him to hear, “Some people don’t know how to treat a lady.”
Was it too much to ask for a little politeness? I crossed the field, heading to the worn dirt path leading through the small forest to take me home to the palace. It appeared even the grasshoppers sensed my irritation because they hopped away, keeping their distance as I stormed right through the field. This was undoubtedly the first time I’d ever been interrupted by anyone, let alone told to leave. I was in complete disbelief as I continued to plow my way into the forest.
Even though the forest was thick, if I looked up, I could make out the palace tower’s peak standing on the tallest butte. It was a remarkable feat of architecture, with tall pillars drapedin ivy, and pearl-white stone walls. Upon my approach to the palace, I made out the intricate carvings that were a nod to my ancestry. Each upper-level room had its own balcony, giving way to breathtaking views of the rolling countryside as far as the eye could see. It was a true fairytale growing up here, and I—a princess—lived in that fairytale.
That was before the war . . .
I found my shoes before I passed through the first set of guards, and I stumbled into them before they could catch me “indecent.” I entered the grand courtyard by way of the symmetrical maze of hedges, and statues of seraphim. There was a faster way to enter the palace, around the back, the way the staff entered, but I much preferred to take in its beauty by way of the front entrance. I slowed even more as I passed by the guards who stood tall by the main entrance, not flinching as if they were perfect statues themselves.
My personal guard, Weston, had already made it back and occupied his post. I never quite understood how he managed to do that, because he always lurked in the shadows whenever I was out. As I passed Weston, he slyly reached into his red coat pocket and pulled out a folded paper. Keeping his palm down, he passed it to me as if it were a covert operation.
Without looking at it, I tucked it into my skirt pocket and continued through the main entrance. I stalled, not wanting to run into Father, and meandered through the chamber, taking in each museum-worthy art piece. Something I did daily when I wanted to kill time, but something seemed off. . .
I halted my steps. Several art pieces were missing, including Father’s original Monet landscapes. In their place, perfect rectangles outlined the crimson wall paint faded around the spot where the art used to hang. My eyes drifted down the hall, noting many more paintings had vanished. Van Gogh. That didn’t disappoint me as much, as none of his art made any sense to me.But the Bouguereau . . . I paced forward, needing to touch the empty wall for myself. That was my favorite. Where did it go?
What on earth?I scratched my head, and checked back over my shoulder, still in disbelief. If one had needed restoration, the curator would have taken justone. Not an entire row.
Rushed footfalls echoed from the corridor, followed by Mother’s inquiring voice, “Erralee, honey, where have you been? Your father’s been looking for you.”
Pivoting slowly on my heel, I pressed a smile on my lips to greet Mother. “Just off in the forest.”Well, until that idiot showed up and ruined it, but you don’t need to know about that. Somehow you’d make it my fault.
“Ah dear, Erralee.” Mother’s brows bent down thoughtfully, but I couldn’t ignore the worry line pinned in the center of her forehead. “I had thought you’d outgrow those nature fantasies by now. It’s time you thought about your future.”
Mother was never one to argue. She was soft-spoken in nature. The perfect balance to my hot-headed father. If she wasn’t happy, she would typically not say anything. It was a little jarring she chose confrontation about thisnow.Sighing, I bit back words of rebuttal and moved closer, reaching an arm out for a side hug. “Ah, mother, I adore nature. There is nothing wrong with that.”
“Normally, there isn’t.” Her thin, red-painted lips pinched as she took a more serious tone. “Your father had a surprise visit from King Aswell. He reigns over an island off the coast of France. His island is filled with mineral mines, and he isextremelywealthy. He has dedicated a large amount of his finances to a very impressive military.” Mother gave me a dramatic side eye, tacking on, “He is interested in meeting you.” She batted her lashes as if to hint that there was something braided in her words. “He wants an heir and is searching for a wife.”
I fought like a pack of famished monkeys left with only one banana not to roll my eyes. Instead, I offered a soft shrug. “I don’t see how that concerns me.”
Mother’s lips held tight, not letting another detail about King Aswell slip out. As if to shift the conversation, she pointed to the stairs. “Please hurry and change for dinner.”
Letting one foot slide in front of the other, I dragged my feet in obedience. Mother called after me with a tone of urgency, “And do put in the effort to look extra nice.” I didn’t check over my shoulder. I understood my charging orders. I also didn’t doubt Mother would send Margarette, her lady’s maid, to assist.
Margarette had done it. I was a vision of beauty, with my raven hair cascading down my back. She had draped my slender figure in the highest luxury silken gown, which shimmered so much it appeared illuminated as I moved through the glow of the muted dinner lights. I didn’t feel like smiling, as I hated to be put on display this way. However, as I strode through the grand hall, and caught my father’s proud eye, I forced my lips to curve into a gentle smile.
Normally I sat at the end by Mother. Tonight, I was moved to the other side of the table, between Father and King Aswell. On King Aswell’s right was my older sister, Ruenella. She also wore her finest dinner dress, and was adorned with so many jewels, she looked more like the queen tonight. I passed her a knowing smile, as I fully understood her out-of-character attire was Mother’s idea.
Ruenella was older than me, shy and quiet in public. She was yet to make a lasting impression on any of the men to whom Father had introduced her. Father never hid his disappointment about it either. Maybe Father had lost faith in her ability to date altogether, because this was the first time Father had included me in one of his setups.
Feeling as though my destiny was on the line—and not in a good way—I took my time as I struggled to walk gracefully. My legs grew heavy, each step more and more difficult to maneuver under the weight of this dress.
My throat dried, and I swallowed when I bravely let my gaze meet King Aswell’s. His face was stern, bearing a long, hooked nose. He had piercing dark eyes, and deep lines on his face that hardly softened, contrasted by his straw-like, corn-yellow hair. I fought hard to inhale smoothly as the grin he laced on his lips appeared arrogant.
Father stood; his eyes etched with his you-will-be-obedient look, and he motioned to King Aswell as he announced me. “This is my daughter, Princess Erralee.”
King Aswell stood stiffly as he raked his eyes over me. “How do you do, Princess Erralee?”
Wouldn’t you love to know, you arrogant, skinny, bird-faced geek. I curtsied, lowering my eyes respectfully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
