Page 2 of Praise Me: Princess

We’re going to starve you to death and hang your withered body in the streets.

“Maybe I’ll start visiting again next month,” I manage, my fingers clutched together tightly in my lap. “Once the temperatures aren’t quite so extreme.”

Queen Ingrid sighs—and I know I’ve disappointed her already. After a grand total of five minutes in her presence. Even after the kidnapping, she doesn’t understand my fears. Because if it was her, she’d lift her chin, walk straight up to her demons and slay them.

I don’t even like weapons.

I never did, but even less so now.

“Greta, you need to start living normally again. You can’t remain in the palace walls forever. The longer you let your anxiety rule, the more extreme it’s going to become.”

I’m nodding along with her, even though I’m shaking. “Yes, I know you’re right.”

“We’ll be traveling to Quilton soon. I need you to conquer your PTSD by then.”

“Why are we traveling to Quilton?”

“Because their king has proposed you marry his son, Kristof, the prince.”

The air goes out of my lungs. “What?”

Ingrid smiles, but I think my near shout has embarrassed her, judging by her white knuckles. “You are eighteen. We are a prosperous nation. Of course, there has been an offer for your hand—and it’s one that would benefit Leidenstein greatly as we continue to battle the rebels.”

I still haven’t caught my breath. “I…me?Married?”

“If you and the prince are a good match, yes. We have to meet him in order to find out, though, don’t we?”

“When is this trip?”

“In one week.” Can she not tell I’m about to faint? Not only am I going to leave the palace in one week for a prolonged trip, but I’m going to meet a potential husband? What is going on? “In the interest of facing your fears and healing you in time for our trip, you will go outside the palace this week. Start living your life again.”

I stare back at her in shock. Disbelief. “Just…go?Outside?By myself?”

“Goodness, Greta, I’m not letting you goalone.” She nods at one of her assistants who scurries behind me to open the parlor door. “I’ve hired you the best bodyguard possible. He’s been instructed to stay by your side and see to your safety. Given how highly he comes recommended by my trusted army advisors, I trust him implicitly.” She inclines her head. “May I introduce Conrad Larsen. Your new bodyguard.”

I twist around in my seat only to be greeted by the most hostile-looking man I’ve ever seen in my life. The top of his head nearly brushes the doorframe on his way into the room, his brown hair slicked back mercilessly, green eyes hard, irritable. He’s stoic, that square jaw set in stone. But his eyes hold pure disgust.

Somehow, I know it’s all for me.

two

. . .

Dear God,take me anywhere but here.

As I’m escorted into the lavish parlor with domed ceilings and rich, luxurious furnishings, I can see only the barracks and battlefields where I’ve slept on and off for a decade. These royals have been sleeping in peace, while I’ve toiled to afford them that right. I’ve given my service to the palace. Paid in blood. I owe them nothing, but here I am by order of Queen Ingrid to come babysit her pathetic daughter.

Kill me now.

I won’t even look at my new charge. My resentment won’t let me.

Just when I thought I was a free man, I’ve been dragged back into servitude. My grandfather left me his farm when he passed away and all I’ve ever wanted was to tend the land and animals. Wake up to the quiet and live in solitude, not being forced to interact with anyone, especially some spoiled brat who is too scared to set foot in the real world.

“Commander Conrad Larsen, your highness,” drone the man who led me into the room. “He has been secured in the guest quarters of the southern wing.”

“Thank you, Hans. That will be all.”

Queen Ingrid rises from her desk, scrutinizing me with an amused half-smile. “Your valiant reputation precedes you, Commander. It’s an honor to welcome you to the palace.”

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