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Princess Ava stood outside the war chamber in her father’s castle, listening with her head slightly tilted as the men on the other side of the enormous wooden doors argued back and forth about the best course of action to take should the armies of Realm Endoreth finally reach the capital. Endoreth’s armies had been marching on Realm Illa for an entire year, and after only one year, were on the brink of taking the realm. For Ava’s father, it was a supreme embarrassment.
Most of Realm Illa had lost faith in King Eyvor’s ability to defend them and had fled to Realm Endoreth or into the wild country altogether, so terrified were they of the ever-encroaching armies of King Bjorn. The southern king’s armies were ruthless and evil, killing peasants and raping women, killing children and raiding shops, burning farms along the countryside. They were no better than raiders and bandits, it was said. Things were so bad, in fact, that Princess Ava’s father had been planning to marry her off quickly to Prince Cassian of Realm Almara to secure an alliance and thus end the invasion.
And so, Princess Ava stood in the torchlit corridor with her handmaiden, Lysa, listening anxiously to the deep voices in the war room and praying to the gods above that her father didn’t still intend to marry her off. She was the most desired princess in the seven kingdoms, with long blonde hair that fell to her backside, tiny hands and feet, a sweet, heart-shaped face, and great breasts practically pouring from the laces of her pink gown. Even now, the female guards who stood nearby, pretending not to notice her, were straining to keep themselves dry in their trousers.
But Princess Ava didn’t notice how the guards struggled, though, nor did she notice how often Lysa glanced at her with soft-eyed appreciation. Lysa was a small, mousey little woman, quite young, with short brown hair and soft brown eyes, often nervous and strained by the antics of her princess. Even now, she wrung her hands on her apron and hissed miserably, “My princess! We mustn’t! We’ll be caught for sure—!”
“Then hush and keep watch!” Princess Ava snapped impatiently without looking away from the door, and Lysa hushed and bit her lip, turning a little pink.
At last, Princess Ava’s green eyes grew round when she heard her father mention her.
“—precisely why I have summoned a personal bodyguard for my daughter,” the king was saying gruffly. “If the capital is taken, Ava will be taken! And I shall die before my daughter is ravished by that foul heathen who calls himself a king! The stories they doth tell of that brute—”
“But, your majesty,” said a man, and Ava recognized the soft, agreeable voice of her father’s chamberlain, “it’s too late to smuggle her from the city now! King Bjorn’s men are so close, they’re practically at the gate—!”
“No!” the king snapped, and the table thumped, as if he had slammed his gauntlet on it. “I shall not let that brute have her, do you hear me? King Elric has agreed to marry Cassian to my Ava—”
Ava gasped miserably. Beside her, Lysa put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“—and is already sending knights to aid us! Elric is as desperate for this alliance as we are, make no mistake,” went on the king confidently. “Who do you think Bjorn will turn on next when he’s done burning my realm? And if Ava were to perish, there would be no chance of an alliance. She is my only daughter . . .” The king paused sadly, and Ava looked at the little slippers that peeped from under her skirts: her mother had died giving birth to her, a wound which had never healed in the king.
“Your majesty, you could always remarry,” said the chamberlain gently. “You are still quite young, and there are many eager and willing—”
“Silence, Godwin, for the sake of the gods!” the king snapped. “I have summoned my daughter’s new bodyguard. The woman shall have already arrived, I think—”
“I beg pardon, but a woman, your majesty?” pipped up the chamberlain. He sounded very confused, even appalled.
“Yes!” snapped the king. “Do you think I’d trust a man alone with my daughter day and night? A man standing over her as she did sleep?”
“No knight with any honor would dare touch the princess of Illa!” cried another voice in amazement. This time, it was Captain Kenric, the captain of the royal guard. “One of my men would never—! They are sworn to protect—!” he blustered on, outraged.
“Be that as it may, Kenric,” said the king, sternly but soothingly, “imagine what would happen if my daughter fell in love with her bodyguard and then did get it in her fool-head to bed him? It has happened before with queens and their guards. Or have you forgotten my mother?”
There was silence in the room, and Princess Ava swallowed hard. She had heard the story a thousand times: her grandmother, the late Queen Avaria, had been caught in the act of bedding her bodyguard. Her husband, King Theodoric, had her beheaded alongside her bodyguard in the capital square in order to save face (rumor had it he didn’t even care much and perhaps had known all along).
Queen Avaria’s affair wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened in House Damaris. The women of the family were notorious for their sexual rebellion. Many romanticized and admired them for it, but only once they had been punished and were dead and gone—No one wanted to appear as if they truly approved of the behavior.
“They call her the Knight of the Wild,” went on the king, who sounded as proud as if he were the knight’s father. “For her country and her family’s sigil, the wild hart. House Rossi is from Realm Wildoras! Isn’t that fascinating?”
“I hope this woman is an exceptional warrior,” grumbled Captain Kenric, who still sounded a little bitter that his own knights weren’t to be trusted.
The king seemed to pick up on Kenric’s bitterness and said in amusement, “That she is, Kenric. Graduated from the academy the top in her class—” The king halted when there was a spraying, raspberry sound: someone had spit out their wine.
“The t-top?” sputtered Chamberlain Godwin. “The top in her glass? Out of hundreds? You mean to tell me she did outmatch the men?”
The king chuckled. “I told you she was exceptional. And I would have it no other way. Only the best for my daughter!”
Captain Kenric snorted. “What? Is she some sort of giant, then? A manly beast of a woman, I suppose?”
Princess Ava cringed at the very thought and quickly turned away, hurrying back down the corridor and toward her bedchamber. Lysa hurried to keep pace with her, carrying her long pink train as they nearly raced down the stairs. When they were a safe distance from the war chamber, Lysa said breathlessly, “Your highness, I don’t understand why this upsets you!”
Princess Ava kept walking very quickly, the better to reach her bedchamber before her father learned she had left it. Hearing Lysa’s words, she realized with a flush of shame that her cheeks were indeed wet with tears. She angrily wiped the tears away with her kerchief, but her pale lashes kept blinking them out, so that her green eyes shimmered.
“Why shouldn’t I be upset, Lysa? My father is marrying me off like chattel—!” Ava paused when she reached the double doors of her bedchamber at last. The two guards standing there muttered, “Your highness . . .” as they pulled the doors open for her. Princess Ava swept in at the same rapid pace, and Lysa staggered to keep up, still bearing her train.
“—and now I shall have some overbearing babysitter constantly underfoot!” Princess Ava went on bitterly and threw her kerchief almost violently to the floor.
“But at least it shall be a woman,” soothed Lysa, scrambling after her. “I know you don’t fancy men, and having one around all the time would be horrid—”
“Ha! As if this woman were any better! Knights are all the same! And this one’s a barbarian! She is likely some big hairy oaf with a hog’s face who shall constantly follow me round, telling me what to do, and—!” The words halted in Ava’s mouth.
A red-haired woman in silver armor was standing beside the great arched windows in the stone wall, her hands behind her back, calmly observing Princess Ava and Lysa. . . and she was utterly beautiful.
“Your highness,” said the woman. “I am the Knight of the Wild. I am your knight.”