The Prince's Bargain

by K. M. Shea

  “I am interested to see how her breakthrough in translating High Elf runes affects the future,” King Celrin said.

  “Yes,” King Petyrr agreed. “It’s another step toward understanding High Elf magic—one I didn’t think we’d see in our lifetime.”

  “Indeed.” King Celrin idly rubbed his chin. “Speaking of the happy couple…did you ever tell Arvel that all along Mythlan was the only candidate for the position as his translator?”

  “No!” King Petyrr almost violently shook his head. “The boy thinks he’s so smart because he bargained for her. He’ll complain endlessly if he realizes Rollo and I had already selected her—and had to beg and bribe the trade translators into lending her out. But she was the only apprentice in any department with the fluency to handle the position. None of the social apprentices are even half as fluent as she.”

  “You cannot fool me, friend,” King Celrin laughed. “You could have found another translator, but you chose her.”

  “Yes, because it was almost a certain thing she was going to be the next Trade Chairwoman—not because I thought she’d turn Arvel lovesick.” King Petyrr sank a little lower into his chair, and his cat purred as it sat on the slope of his belly. “Given his aspirations for trade and Calnor’s economy, I thought to foster his relationship with the future leadership of the trade translators—to make his future a little easier. That is my one regret; Chairwoman Errim is going to murder me—financially speaking.”

  “I imagine Mythlan will continue to work as a translator—socially and in matters of trade—all her life,” King Celrin said.

  “Yes, but Chairwoman Errim was setting her up to be her replacement, and Mythlan can’t very well be that if she’s the queen.” King Petyrr shivered. “I expect all trade translation fees are going to double this year.”

  King Celrin chuckled and sipped his wine some more. “She’ll make an exceptional daughter-in-law.”

  King Petyrr instantly brightened. “She will, won’t she? She’ll be another beautiful jewel of Calnor—intelligent and stunning! Do you think she’ll call me Father?” He hopefully peered at King Celrin, upsetting his cat.

  “Perhaps,” King Celrin offered. “Regardless, I am certain she will be happy to join your family.”

  “I hope so.” King Petyrr returned to petting the orange feline, soothing it into purring again. “I do like her. I was worried Arvel wouldn’t find a match—that boy is almost too smart for his own good. But she is an excellent foil to him.”

  King Celrin stood up to refill his wine cup and fetched King Petyrr’s pint of human mead from the table. “To the future monarchs of Calnor?”

  King Petyrr took the wooden pint and tapped it against King Celrin’s wine chalice. “To the future monarchs of Calnor! May they be better than the previous generation, and may their love be the stuff of stories.”

  King Celrin sipped his wine and watched as King Petyrr took a massive swig. “You know,” King Celrin said. “This match will double the number of half Calnorian half elven grandchildren you could have.”

  King Petyrr actually spat out his drink in his glee. “You really think so?”

  “I do. And it means the next generation of Calnorian royalty will be half elf.”

  “…”

  “…”

  “This calls for more celebration! More wine, more mead! This is one of the best days in my life—no, that’ll be the day more of my grandchildren are born. But such happy times await us, Celrin!”

  King Celrin laughed, gratified to see his friend’s good humor restored. “They do indeed, my friend. They do indeed.”

  Epilogue

  “We have all the necessary paperwork, Your Royal Highness. I think we will be successful?” The leader of the caravan heading to Lessa’s capital city of Jubilee was a young Calnorian man who gripped the cuffs of his jacket with apparent nervousness, and he glanced up worriedly at her from his bow.

  Myth smiled. “You’ll do very well,” she assured him. “We’ve gone over the paperwork, you know the proper way to act in Lessa, and you’re bringing Crown Princess Yvrea news of her new niece and nephew. The elves will greet you warmly, and you will enjoy your time there.”

  “I’m not worried about the elves—or the orders! I know you looked them over, so they’re perfect. But…” The man hunched his shoulders a little. “What if I mess up a word or something and offend them?”

  “The elves will not hold it against you, I promise.” Myth gave him a smile before switching to Elvish. “They will be overjoyed you are trying.”

  The man nodded, and gave her a tense smile. “Thank you for all your help, My Princess Mythlan,” he said in accented but understandable Elvish. He bowed again and hurried off, hopping on the saddled horse that waited for him among the wagons. “We’re heading out! To Jubilee,” he yelled.

  The pale morning light of the winter sun cast the wagons and travelers in an orange color.

  Myth pulled the fur collar of her cloak tight around her neck, but waited on the steps until the caravan passed through the palace gates before she turned around to address her Honor Guards. “It’s to the library, next.”

  The squad leader, a serious woman, bowed to Myth—a gesture she still had a hard time mentally accepting. “Yes, Your Royal Highness. Guards!” She made a few hand gestures, and the squad fanned around Myth in a now familiar formation, with Myth at the center.

  Summer had changed from fall to winter, and already the blush of spring was starting to invade the icy blast of winter, and the Fultons remained broken. But once Arvel and Myth married in the early fall, Arvel had insisted she travel with a full squad of soldiers, just in case.

  Given her inability to defend herself, Myth agreed easily enough to the entourage—though she wished they’d stop bowing.

  As if her disdain for the custom couldn’t get any worse, Myth and her guards entered the palace and happened to encounter Lady Tari and Princess Gwendafyn—each carrying a baby, Gwendafyn’s twin daughter and son. Behind them trailed Gwendafyn’s quiet squire, Wulf, carrying what appeared to be an armful of baby blankets.

  “Good morning, Your Royal Highness!” Lady Tari dipped in an elegant curtsy, holding the bundled baby secure with the ease of an experienced parent.

  “Good morning, Your Royal Highness, Crown Princess Mythlan.” Gwendafyn’s smile was extra mischievous as she dipped into a curtsy.

  “Lady Tari, My Princess Gwendafyn.” Mythlan went out of her way to bow deeply to Gwendafyn.

  “Oh, no, no, the honor is mine, Crown Princess!” Gwendafyn executed an even deeper curtsy.

  “No, I insist, the honor, pleasure, and greater admiration for you is all mine, My Princess.” Mythlan bowed deeper.

  “Wulf, can you hold Cyderren? I can’t curtsy any deeper and hold her,” Gwendafyn said.

  Lady Tari tipped her head back and laughed deeply. “By the light of the Evening Stars—you two will never settle this, will you?”

  “I think not,” Gwendafyn said. “She is the crown princess, one day to become the queen.”

  “And Princess Gwendafyn will forever remain My Princess, and my superior,” Myth said with equal firmness.

  “Court functions have gotten much livelier since you were crowned, Mythlan,” Tari laughed. “And I can imagine it’s only going to get better!”

  “Are we keeping you from something?” Gwendafyn gently rocked her daughter—who was only a few weeks old. “Seer Ringali mentioned he has another meeting with you regarding the study of High Elf runes today…”

  “It’s nothing urgent. I am simply going to meet Arvel in the library,” Mythlan said. “He’s inspecting the last of the renovations.”

  “The library is fixed, then?” Tari asked.

  “Yes. There will be an official ceremony marking the occasion next week, I believe,” Myth said.

  Gwendafyn turned around to peer back at Wulf, who nodded. “You are set to attend, Your Highness,” he told her in his gravelly voice.

  �
��Splendid!” Gwendafyn smiled brightly, her purple eyes glowing. “I never miss a chance to pay homage to Their Royal Highnesses, Crown Prince and Princess—”

  “Don’t curtsy again,” Myth begged.

  Gwendafyn laughed. “Fine, but just this once, since I know you must be eager to see the library. Have a lovely morning, Myth.”

  “Thank you, you too—Fyn, Tari, Wulf.” Myth met each of their gazes and fought the urge to address her hero by her full name. She smiled and walked off at a faster pace than usual—she didn’t want to give Gwendafyn the time to curtsy at her back—and trundled through the palace.

  She stopped in Arvel’s study just long enough to cast off her cloak before marching the short distance to the library.

  As usual, she felt calmer the moment she entered the library. The smoky smell had been driven out by the wizards and enchanters months ago, and since the skylights had been replaced, the building was nearly back to normal, lacking only the books and artifacts that had burned in the blaze.

  Myth led her guards, tracing the familiar path up to the second floor. Sure enough, when she reached the top step, she heard Arvel’s animated voice and the lowered tones of someone replying to him. She wound around a few bookshelves—all of them brand new and still smelling faintly of varnish—when she came upon her husband talking and laughing with a Calnorian librarian and Wizard Edvin.

  Blaise stood a few steps behind Wizard Edvin, her master, and when she spotted Myth she grinned. She glanced at her teacher, but apparently thought better of leaving his side because she mouthed to her, “Are we on for tomorrow night?”

  Myth smiled in return and nodded. Princess or not, she’d kept up her pattern of meeting with Blaise—although now she was always accompanied by a squad of Honor Guards who wore plain clothes and supposedly blended in.

  Blaise took a step in Myth’s direction, but Wizard Edvin—oblivious as ever—finished his bow to Arvel and then whisked her off deeper into the library, probably to finish some spells.

  Myth slowly approached Arvel, giving him time to finish his conversation with the librarian and make his farewells before she gently bumped him.

  Arvel grinned down at her. “Good morning, Myth. You saw the caravan off?” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  Even though they’d been married for months, Myth still blushed. She cleared her throat and nodded to the librarian, who merrily waved as she scuttled past the Honor Guards, making her escape. “Yes, their exit was a success. They will do fine. How is the library? Are you still on schedule for the ceremony?”

  “Yes. It’s all but finished,” Arvel confirmed. “Wizard Edvin is retrieving some materials the other wizards left behind, but all the new magical safeguards are in place. The library staff have ordered replacements for the books that were lost. Thankfully Jubilee had copies of most of the elven tomes we had, and they’re almost finished crafting new copies for us. There will be more space than was previously left on the shelves, but the library staff have assured me they will delight in filling it.”

  Myth leaned into Arvel and tucked her hand into his. “I’m glad.”

  “Me too,” Arvel said. “If it wasn’t for this library, I don’t know that we would have met.”

  “It is a special building,” Myth agreed.

  “Yes, I wouldn’t have otherwise had the chance to spy on the beautiful apprentice translator.” Arvel grinned when Myth playfully pushed him.

  “You couldn’t have possibly loved me then,” Myth scoffed.

  “I was fairly certain I loved your mind—anyone who spends that much time in a library can’t be a bad sort of person. But it wasn’t until I worked with you that I fell in love with you.”

  “And then fired me,” Myth grumbled.

  “You’re still not going to let that go?”

  “You ruined my perfect record!”

  “Myth.”

  “Hmm?” Myth rested her cheek against Arvel’s shoulder and looked out at all the new desks and chairs the library had ordered to fill the study space.

  “Myth.”

  “What?” Myth pulled back so she could peer up at Arvel.

  His eyes had lowered to half-mast, and his smile was smaller, but invitingly lopsided.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare become the Prince of Seduction here!”

  Arvel moved in so his breath tickled her neck. “Why not here?”

  “Because, because—we’re surrounded by guards!”

  Arvel slid his hands up her arms. “Not quite. Have a look.”

  Myth peered around the area, her blush burning brighter when she realized the Honor Guards had discreetly retreated behind the bookshelves, leaving her and Arvel guarded, but alone. “But, but,” she stammered.

  He chuckled and kissed the corner of her lips. “Despite all your protests I know you love this.”

  I do.

  Myth slapped her hands to her cheeks as if she could forcibly contain her blush. “Love is a strong word.”

  Arvel laughed in the span of one breath and kissed her in the next, his arms winding around her.

  Myth melted into his embrace and returned the kiss.

  When they finally parted, she hid her face in the hollow of his neck. “You’re a terrible influence.”

  “That’s why I have you, Crown Princess.” He curled an arm around her waist, and when she suspiciously peered up at him, his smile had dimmed to something soft and warm.

  She made a face at him, then confessed. “I love you, Arvel—all of you.”

  Arvel rested his forehead against hers. “And I love you, Myth; my translator, my beloved, my everything.”

  It is a known fact that the reign of King Arvel and his Queen Mythlan was a great time of prosperity for Calnor and Lessa. Some believe it was due to the combined intellect of the two rulers, who greatly expanded the economies of both countries. Others credit it to having an elf queen on the Calnorian throne—particularly an elf queen who was capable of deciphering High Elf runes. But any true historian would tell you it was entirely due to the love shared between the king and queen. They worked together, united in everything they did, and were famous for loving each other more and more with every passing day.

  Truly, we have not since seen a reign such as theirs in all the years that have passed. Nor will we ever again, I think.

  Calnorian historian and scholar Quinaby Demult on the subject of King Arvel and Queen Mythlan of Calnor.

  The End

  For a free, companion short story to The Prince’s Bargain, check out kmshea.com

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading The Prince’s Bargain, I hope you enjoyed Myth’s story! If you want to read more of my work, sign up for my newsletter to receive my free K. M. Shea Starter Pack ebook.

  It contains:

  A King Arthur and Her Knights prequel short story

  A Red Rope of Fate prequel short story

  An original fairy tale, Princess Snow and Queen Ruby

  A fairy tale retelling, The Princess Who Chased Sheep

  My newsletter is released every month, and contains information about the books I'm working on, new freebies, and exclusive content just for newsletter subscribers!

  Thank you for your support and encouragement. I am proud to say I have the best readers. Therefore, it is my dearest wish that Myth and her friends made you laugh and warmed your heart. Thank you.

  Other books by K. M. Shea

  The Snow Queen Series:

  A completed Epic Fantasy series of two books and an anthology of short stories

  Timeless Fairy Tales:

  Beauty and the Beast

  The Wild Swans

  Cinderella and the Colonel

  Rumpelstiltskin

  The Little Selkie

  Puss in Boots

  Swan Lake

  Sleeping Beauty

  Frog Prince

  12 Dancing Princesses

  Snow White

  Three pack (Beauty and the Be
ast, The Wild Swans, Cinderella and the Colonel)

  The Fairy Tale Enchantress:

  Apprentice of Magic

  Curse of Magic

  Reign of Magic

  Trial of Magic- Coming in 2021

  The Elves of Lessa:

  Red Rope of Fate

  Royal Magic

  The Prince’s Bargain

  Hall of Blood and Mercy:

  A complete urban fantasy series of 3 books

  King Arthur and Her Knights:

  A complete historical fantasy series of seven books

  Robyn Hood:

  A compete historical fiction series of two novellas

  The Magical Beings’ Rehabilitation Center:

  A complete urban fantasy series of two books and an anthology of short stories

  Other Novels

  Life Reader

  Princess Ahira

  A Goose Girl

  Second Age of Retha: Written under pen name A. M. Sohma

  The Luckless

  The Desperate Quest

  The Revived

  About the Author

  K. M. Shea is a fantasy-romance author who never quite grew out of adventure books or fairy tales, and still searches closets in hopes of stumbling into Narnia. She is addicted to sweet romances, witty characters, and happy endings. She also writes LitRPG and GameLit under the pen name, A. M. Sohma.

  Hang out with the K. M. Shea Community at…

  kmshea.com