Page 1 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
Prologue
If when you first step onto the soils of the Desolated Lands, you see devastation and ruin, poor beggars in the streets and children starving, please continue on your way. There’s nothing for you here. Trying to take over one of our kingdoms is simply not worth the trouble—you won’t gain any riches or power, and the people are likely to skip out on paying taxes anyway without being bothered by silly threats like imprisonment or execution. Really, you’re better off moving on to somewhere else.
If, however, you enter our lands and find the people happy and smiling; catch a whiff of baking bread; see the children playing in the streets—chocolate smeared over their faces, little gremlins—then welcome. Make yourself right at home.
Only two generations ago, the five kingdoms were plagued by evil mages. Prosperous kingdoms were always ripe for the plucking, but no one wanted to be harvested. For years, any time an evil mage entered the scene, the kings and queens hunted down a Chosen One—pig farms were always a good place to start—and gave them whatever resources necessary to defeat the evil threatening their kingdoms. It was a long, arduous process and sometimes they barely managed to find the Chosen One in time. After one too-close-for-comfort encounter, the five kingdoms banded together to find a way to deter all future evil mages.
To accomplish this task, they hired a Good Wizard.
The Good Wizard cleared his throat to bring everyone’s attention to the front of the room. Ten pairs of eyes locked on him, and he resisted the urge to hide under the podium. Though he’d attained the title of Good Wizard well over a decade ago, it was the biggest, messiest problem he’d ever faced. The council had tossed it into his lap, declared ‘Good luck,’ and then abandoned him with endless excuses about other kingdoms needing their attention.
“I have—” His voice cracked, and he coughed to clear his throat a second time. “I have reviewed your request and I believe I have a solution.” When no one said anything, he took that as a sign to continue. “I have crafted a spell that will protect your land, repelling all those with true evil in their hearts. For this spell to work, your cooperation isvital. Specifically, there are two components you must all agree on.”
Continued silence. He tugged on his sweat-dampened collar. Usually, his clients had a lot more questions. He couldn’t tell if his audience was respectful or skeptical. “The first component of this spell requires a change of names for your kingdoms and the land you occupy. I have come up with a list of suggestions.” He’d had a wonderful time creating the new names, and now he passed around copies of a small booklet with hundreds of options.
The kings and queens each took one and flipped through them idly. He watched their faces eagerly. Wild ideas filled his head of them fighting over his favorite names, a whole fantasy playing out of a duel and—
“You certainly like X’s and Q’s,” said a red-haired king, his expression bemused as he scanned the pages.
“Are there any in here we can … pronounce?” a queen asked delicately.
The Good Wizard frowned. “All of them should be pronounceable.”
“How do you say this one?” the king closest to his left asked, holding up the book.
The Good Wizard pulled spectacles out of his sleeve and leaned closer. He tried to keep the impatience out of his voice as he promptly replied, “Qagxiliyan.”
“Sorry, can you say that again?” someone to his right asked.
“Qagxiliyan.”
“Um, maybe a little slower?”
“Quag-zil-ian,” he stretched out.
A few of the royals exchanged unreadable glances before rifling through his beautiful creations with little enthusiasm. “Can we … take some time to consider it?” one queen asked.
The Good Wizard rubbed his brow and said, “Yes, of course, though the sooner we decide, the sooner I can cast the spell.”
Wine was called for and the kings and queens began the process of elimination. The more they drank, the less they were able to pronounce, their words all slurring together.
“This is the new bane of my existence,” one king declared after his fifth cup.
“I like that!” another king said, pointing at the other with his cup, sloshing wine all over the table in his enthusiasm. “I’m using that.”
“Existence?” the first slurred in confusion.
“Bane.” The second turned to his wife and demanded, “What do you think, darling, do you want to be the Queen of Bane?”
The red-haired queen hiccupped once, twice, and then slurred, “’Sokay with me.”
“That wasn’t really—”one of the options,the Good Wizard wanted to say, but stopped himself. Technically, they could use whatever names they wanted, as long as they had no association with the old map. Sighing, he scratched out the kingdom’s old name and replaced it withBane. The map on the wall behind him magically altered to match the change, and the old kingdom’s name was erased from history forever.
“If you’re Bane, I want to be Woe,” the first king announced.
“Really, I suggest—” the Good Wizard tried feebly.
“Oh, oh!” a queen gasped, bouncing in her chair. “I want to be Calamity!”
