Page 2 of The Lost Princess

The guards around him casually moved their hands to the hilts of their swords.

The man grinned dangerously, one finger rising to point at me. “Her.”

The crowd gasped. My father sputtered. The man’s brown eyes raked over my skin as it glistened and reflected the nearby candlelight, more so than the golden threads in my dress. I resisted the urge to cross my arms and cover myself from his judgmental stare, but I didn’t. I’d been schooled from an early age not to hide my uniqueness. Father insisted I show it off.

So I held my ground, my fingers twitching slightly as I stared back at the man who dared to suggest I leave my home.

“You’re trying to steal my gift from the gods! My most prized possession!Mydaughter!” My father’s fist slammed down on his armrest again. Warmth filled my belly at his fierce defense of me. My father’s love could often be like the sun in the sky—comforting on a cold winter day, but scorching hot if you got too close.

The noble didn’t so much as blink at Father’s anger. “Regardless of any of that, the rules of the treaty were clear. My king has graciously supplied you with the funds and supplies you claimed necessary to feed your people.” He sneered at the nobles gathered around him, making it obvious the funds were wasted on court. Huffing, he continued. “In return, he asks only that you upholdonepart of the bargain. His price is your daughter.”

The crowd erupted in shouts of dismay and anger, and my jaw dropped. He was serious. He wanted to kidnap me from my home. And what was this about a drought and a famine? Was it true or just made up lies to get what he wanted?

Father pointed a finger right in the noble’s face. “What use can my daughter be to Werris? His queen is alive and well, with his sons already married or betrothed!”

The man sighed dramatically, executing a facetious bow. “Be that as it may, this is his request, and—”

Father slapped one thick thigh. “I’ll refuse! Then what will you do, eh? Go to war with us?” He leered at the noble, a manic gleam in his eyes. “I know you cannot survive without the iron from our mines!”

My skin erupted in goosebumps. This was how violence started and how history was made. And it wasn’t the good kind of history that you told bedtime stories to your children about.

The noble raised one eyebrow, unbothered. “If you choose to default on the agreement, the king demands immediate repayment. Since we already know repayment is not possible for you at this time, he will settle for your throne. It won’t completely cover the debt, but he believes it is a good start once we invest in the land. It’s mismanaged and inefficient currently. The choice is yours.”

The other courtiers in attendance went silent, accusing eyes staring up at my father. Just how much trouble was the kingdom in? Who all knew about it? Clearly his closest advisors had no clue. I blinked and held my breath collectively with the rest of the court as they waited for my father’s response. The Cillian man’s had just effectively uttered a threat and insult wrapped up into one neat package.

Father’s teeth clenched, his lips curled back into a snarl. His heavy gold necklace heaved up and down with his chest, nearly spastic with rage. His fists opened and closed reflexively at his side.

“I’ll kill you where you stand.” Father hissed, fear poisoning my own veins even though his vitriol wasn’t directed at me. “I’ll have my guards slit your throat and watch as you bleed out onto the floor. Your king will never know, because no one here will betray me.”

Father narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin, scanning the crowd of nobles. No one moved.

The nobleman sighed as if greatly disappointed by the outcome, as though it was expected. I envied his composure as he showed no fear at all in the face of such hostility. What would it be like to never be afraid; to stand before a king and speak calmly and so eloquently?

The Cillian man stood slowly and deliberately, drawing himself up to his full height, which was taller than my father by a significant amount. His handsome, classical features and dark hair were a strong contrast to the brutish, stout figure of my father with his red hair and beard.

The Cillian carefully donned his hat and gave one last mournful look around the magnificent hall. “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but we expected as much.”

He paused to level my father with a belligerent glare, then smirked at everyone around him. “Don’t you want to hear what pretty presents Cilla has arranged?”

My own anger burst through my veins, but my fear kept it off my face. What an arrogant lunatic!

He chuckled darkly. “Three horses are stationed throughout your kingdom, as hidden and inconspicuous as the men who tend them. If I do not pass safely through your castle gates in one hour with either the money or your daughter, they have very specific orders.”

He paused for dramatic effect, even as the court leaned forward to hear every word he spoke. He grinned. “Would you like to hear them?”

My fatherseethed.

The man continued, quiet, yet confident and clear. “The first man will relay to the others that I have met an unfortunate end and that you have refused our request. He will then ride hard to Cilla and inform King Werris you have withdrawn from the treaty. He will immediately attack. Your people will be at war and once he wins, he simply takes your daughter anyway. In addition to your throne, of course.”

My hands twisted into the fabric of my dress to hide their trembling. Selena put a hand on my shoulder, steadying me, but not taking her eyes off of the Cillian.

Father looked like he wanted to stand toe-to-toe with this man, but then thought better of it. A vein in his temple throbbed. “And the other two men?” he asked, his voice a threatening hiss.

The noble smirked. “They will ride south and west to where two contingents of our army are currently waiting near your borders. You know nothing of this because the people there were so desperate for food and supplies they kept their mouths shut. It will be over in a matter ofdays.” He sneered. “Pathetic how eager they were to please us and howhungrythey were. Like I said earlier, the choice is up to you.”

He gave my father a mocking bow, clearly dismissing him, and not the other way around. “Good day.”

With quick movements he made his way across the hall until he was in front of me. He bowed at the waist, and offered his hand to me.

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