Page 9 of Once Upon an Enchanted Kiss

How fortunate for him that, as a man, he could run free and do as he pleased. While she was forced into a marriage in which she had no interest. Forced to participate in a wedding she had no input in planning. Forced into a life she didn’t want.

“They also came to finalize the plans for the wedding,” her mother added.

She shot to her feet. “And I’m just supposed to be okay with all of this?” Rosamund demanded.

Her mother plunked the tea cup down on the tray with a thud, the ire in her face evident. “You are a princess, Rosamund. It is what was agreed to between your father and King Reginald. You are to marry Prince Phillip.”

She clenched her fists so hard, her nails bit into the palms of her hands. “And I have no say in this whatsoever?”

Her mother straightened, looking down her nose at her and giving Rosamund her most regal look. “You do not.”

Rosamund inhaled a breath, then blew it out slowly. “Very well, Mother. If that’s what you and Papa wish, then so be it. I will marry the prince. But know this. I will never love him. I do this out of duty to my kingdom and nothing more.”

“That is the price of being a princess,” her mother said.

Her words cut deep. Rosamund spun on the toe of her slipper and stomped to the door.

“Where are you going?” her mother asked.

She paused at the door, her hand on the knob, and cut her mother a glance over her shoulder. “Nowhere, Mother. I have nowhere to go.”

She flung open the door and left.

Chapter 4

FurybeatthroughRosamundas she charged down the stairs and through the great hall, her mind on one destination only. Her father and the Woodhaven royals were in the great hall, discussing the upcoming wedding. When Queen Adele tried to engage her, she breezed past her, ignoring her.

“Rosamund!” her father called.

But she ignored him too, still gripping her skirts tight in her fists and nearly sprinting through the halls.

“Forgive her, your majesty,” she overheard her father say.

“No need. She’s had a bit of a shock, I gather,” the queen responded.

Her father said something else, but Rosamund was out the door and into the hall and didn’t hear. Her eyes were blurred with tears as she picked up speed. She charged into the royal gardens, never stopping until she was a good distance from the castle. She paused to swipe at the tears in her eyes.

The gardens were fragrant this time of year, since it was spring. There were lilacs, chrysanthemums, tulips, and lilies in bloom. As she stood on the path, she surveyed the immaculate grounds and wondered, not for the first time, why there were no roses.

From what she gathered from the groundskeeper roses were forbidden to be grown in the royal gardens. Or anywhere near the castle, for that matter. She never understood why. She had never seen one or smelled one. She only knew about roses from pictures in books and reading about their sweet, perfect fragrance.

With slow steps, she headed to the gazebo where she liked to spend time alone to think. She sat on the bench, staring out at the swaying bushes of flowers.

She didn’t want to marry someone she had never met. Certainly, she understood she was to be betrothed at some point but she did not expect to have already been betrothed her entire life. All this time, she thought her father was planning which nobles to bring to the castle to meet her and ask for her hand when instead he was secretly planning her wedding and her future.

A future with a prince from thatotherkingdom. What was she to do? It was impossible to refuse and shirk her duty as princess. Her parents would never allow her to deny the hand of a prince.

Some part of her, though, had hoped she would marry for love instead of duty. That hope was utterly squashed.

Though Queen Adele and King Reginald seemed to be cordial, intelligent people, she was still not interested in marrying their son. Even if he was just as cordial and intelligent.

As she brooded, something fluttered near her face. She realized it was a dragonfly with iridescent wings that beat so quickly, they were a blur. The dragonfly alighted on the nearby railing, the wings slowing to nothing more than a faint flutter.

“Why so melancholy, princess?” a high-pitched voice nearby asked.

She startled, glancing around to see who was speaking, but there was no one there. She was alone. She stiffened, her back ramrod straight.

“Who’s there?” she demanded.

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