Page 1 of The Princess and the Orc

ChapterOne

Amalia, Princess of Sherith, ran her fingers over the petals of a blood-red rose, avoiding the sharp thorns on the stem. Her mother had loved these roses. She had spent hours in the garden, with Amalia by her side, despite the gardeners being horrified that the queen was digging in the dirt with them. Many other countries often asked for clippings of her mother's plants to take with them when they left Sherith. It was considered a great honor to have one of the Queen’s roses in their garden. With her mother gone, Amalia tried to keep up with the garden, but she feared she did more harm than good.

“Their beauty pales compared to your loveliness, dear princess,” Prince Frederich of Darea spoke from behind her, his voice soft and pleasant.

She shivered in the cool morning air and slowly turned to meet his stare. He truly was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen. She had been subjected to an endless round of men courting her over the past year, ever since her father declared her to be his heir to the throne. She hadn’t realized how many eligible men existed in the kingdom and the constant social whirl was exhausting. But none compared to Prince Frederich.

His blond hair was artfully tousled, just long enough to tempt her to want to run her fingers through it. His blue eyes were a deep blue, the color of the sea that he described to her with such affection on their daily walks through the garden. And his body was lean and muscular, filling out his simple tunic and leggings nicely indeed, making her wonder what he looked like without his clothes.

She blushed at his admiring regard. “My mother created this strain of roses. I used to spend hours watching her tend to them as I was growing up.”

He stepped up close, the heat of his body burning into her, and he laid a hand over hers. “Then we’ll have to bring some with you when you come to Darea, so you’ll feel at home.”

Hope flared in her heart, and he squeezed her hand. “I hope I’m not being too forward. We must return home at once. The filthy orcs have attacked one of our border towns and we must prepare a response. I would like your permission to speak to your father. Ask for your hand.”

Amalia had the presence of mind to not let her jaw drop, even as her heart leapt in her chest. Instead, she steadied her breathing as she had been taught. “Of course, Prince Frederich. I would honored.”

He bowed, brushing his lips over the back of her hand, and withdrew. She waited until he had left the garden to begin dancing among the plants. She was to be a queen and to marry the most handsome prince of all! Even better, she would unite their kingdoms, protecting her people with a solid alliance. Her father would have to accept the offer.

* * *

“Idon’t understand why you won’t agree to the marriage settlement, father,” Amalia said as she settled at the breakfast table in the main hall of the castle. She tucked a cloth napkin over her blue velvet riding dress and thanked the servant, who set a plate of eggs and sausage in front of her.

Her father, King Henrik, looked over at her from the head of the table where he sat with his chief advisor, Sir Cadvael, and sighed. Her father had a full head of white hair, perfectly coiffed by his valet. He was tall and broad shouldered, not letting himself go like so many of the men of the court, yet he was older and she could see the weight of his years beginning to take its toll on him. He still stood strong and proud, yet his shoulders were slightly rounded. He had lost weight recently, not enough to make him look sickly, but he was not as robust as he had been a few years prior. And his face had more lines than before. Whether they were worry or age, she didn’t know. He was still a handsome man, though Amalia often thought she saw loneliness in his eyes and a grief that still haunted him even twenty years after her mother had died.

He frowned as he glanced at his most trusted advisor. “I don’t trust Prince Frederich or his father. They seem perfectly pleasant, but something doesn’t feel right to me. I want to make sure you have the best options for your marriage. After all, your husband will rule our kingdom with you after I’m gone.”

Amalia leaned over and took her father’s hand, feeling the dryness of his skin and the bones so close to the surface. “Not for a very long time. We need the allies, father. Orcs have been harassing our borders and our neighbors to the north in Osna have been getting more aggressive. Frederich and his army would add much support to us if we need it.”

Sir Cadvael, an aging courtier with a balding head and expanding waistline, had been more like a benevolent uncle than an advisor while Amalia had grown up. He nodded approvingly, pleased that she had taken his lessons on governing to heart, even if she had appeared bored during his many lectures of duty and neighboring politics. “The princess shows a keen grasp of the issues facing our kingdom, your majesty. And she must marry. It is past time for her to be wed.”

Amalia stifled a sigh. She’d been fighting the battle about marriage for the past several years, since she turned eighteen more than five years ago. She couldn’t understand why she had to be married to rule her country. Her father had been in no hurry to marry her off, not wanting to lose his last connection to his long-deceased wife, so he hadn’t pushed. But now, it seemed her time was up, though no man had been good enough for her, not yet.

She wasn’t opposed to marriage. In fact, she wanted children. She only wanted to be allowed to help her people too, and lead them. Prince Frederich seemed like a charming man, quite handsome and kind. She had spent a week with him recently and was quite taken with him.

Her father only shook his head. “I would like to send you to one of the other kingdoms, to visit their sons. Maybe another one of them would be more to your liking. Or at least mine,” he muttered the last under his breath.

She sipped her hot chocolate for a moment before responding. This had been a familiar argument in the past two weeks since Prince Frederich had visited the castle. Her father had been perfectly pleasant, but put off finalizing the marriage agreement. Frederich had been less than pleased and had professed a great desire to marry her as soon as possible to protect her from harm, as he was worried about her safety.

She rose from the table. “Father, I am most pleased with Frederich. He is kind, charming, from a neighboring country so we would be close by. Our people are close in traditions, and he would settle with us fine. He has already promised to let me run Sherith when it’s time. He won’t try to take over.”

Her father scowled at her. “Are you going out riding?”

She sighed patiently. “I go every day, Father. Shergar needs his exercise.”

“I wish I had never gifted you that damned horse. He’s too much for a young woman,” he grumbled.

Amalia kissed her father’s forehead. “He’s perfect for me.” Though Frederich hated the horse, and Shergar hated Frederich too.

“I don’t want you going out riding. The brigands have been sighted too close to the castle.”

“Father, this is my only freedom,” she protested, but he cut her off.

“I don’t care. No riding today, or until further notice.” He turned his attention back to Cadvael, dismissing her.

Amalia narrowed her gaze and resisted the urge to argue further. He had never issued an order quite like that. It had been raining for the past several days, and she was dying to get out and ride. When Prince Frederich was there, she had to ride sedately, like a princess, but when she was alone, with only a couple of guards, she was free to be more uninhibited. No, she was going to have her ride. They’d stay close to the castle and not venture too far. Just enough to get some exercise and fresh air.

ChapterTwo

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