The Stolen Princess (Fated Royals 1)

Night came on fast, dark and foreboding, but I felt safe and secure beside Bors. Over the fire, he cooked two freshly skinned rabbits that he had caught with a foot snare. Across the fire from us sat my father, who had, unfortunately, gained a lasting consciousness thanks to the mouthwatering smell of the roasting meat.

A ceaseless pummeling by a band of kidnappers and a day’s hard travel had done nothing to make my father any kinder. He was, if anything, more awful than ever before.

“Now you know the truth,” he said, gnawing at a rabbit leg. “You should thank me for not fucking you years ago. It’s my right, after all. You’re not my daughter; you were always just a burden. Hardly worth the coin I took for your care. Worthless cunt.”

I glanced at Bors, whose nostrils were flaring like an angry bull’s right before the charge.

“Don’t you fucking speak to her—” He spat back already pushing to his feet when I reached over and gripped his wrist.

“Bors,” I said. “Do not attack him again.”

“As you wish, your highness,” He grunted, his body hard but he shifted his weight back, and took an angry bite of his meat glaring at my father.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself. Disgusting as he was, my father was feeling talkative and I aimed to make the most of it. “So, father. Tell us. What was your plan? How did you intend to take me for yourself?”

My father cleared his throat, then spat a fatty bit of gristle from his mouth. The noise of it hitting the dry leaves made my stomach roll.

“Well, I may as well tell the truth, since I’m damned either way. If this brute doesn’t kill me, he’ll only be sparing me for the hangman’s noose.” There was a glint of truth in his eye as he watched me across the fire, and I knew he was right. For what he’d done, a hanging would be a merciful end, and there was precious little I could do to prevent it, even if I wanted to. “Your mother was standing in my way to take you as I deserved. It would have worked, the nightshade I’d started to sneak into her food would have worked within weeks.”

I had never liked him, but now I was finding my way towards actual hatred. To think that he had caused my mother so much pain in order to have me for himself was awful to consider. She had never been kind to me, but no one deserved to suffer so much at the hands of her spouse.

I pressed on with my questions. “Who arranged for me to come to you? Who’s been paying you off?”

My father sucked at the marrow from the rabbit bone. “The traveling minstrel that would come through the Cock and Bull each month. Bardo. He was the go-between. As for who arranged for you to be taken, I don’t know the answer to that. Knowing too much can be dangerous.”

The more information I got, the less I understood. I knew the man he meant, though. I had heard him sing. He had a good voice, but his presence was unpleasant. Weaselly… almost ferret-like. I’d always felt he wasn’t to be trusted and now I knew I had been right. But that still didn’t make anything clear. “Why? Why would anybody do anything like that?”

More bone-sucking ensued, and then he replied, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” He patted his knee. “Why don’t you come on over here, Princess, and sit on Daddy’s lap?”

Bors grunted beside me. “I told you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I?” He said and a low growl rumbled in his chest before he paused, looked at me then finished, with, “My apologies, your highness, for disobeying.”

And then he rose, took three long strides around the fire pit, and walloped my father with a knock-out punch.

“Sleep well, your highness,” Bors said, rolling away from me to face into the darkened forest. I stared at the rope-like lines of his back and shoulder muscles, feeling angry, rejected, and frustrated.

How dare he. First he unleashed my desire and now he denied it.

I took a moment to try and collect myself, but I was unable. There was so much tension between Bors and me that I thought I was going to burst. We had to sort things out or I’d lose my mind. Fortunately, for the moment, we had time to ourselves. My father had regained consciousness after Bors blow but now slept. Snoring loudly and bound to a tree on the other side of our camp. It was time to seize my chance.

I grabbed Bors’ massive shoulder to get him to roll back over to face me. He met my gaze and I eyed him with all my fury. He studied my face and his pupils widened. I could tell he wanted me as much as I wanted him, but he was still refusing to touch me. “Stop it, Sara. I will not be the one to ruin you.”