Table of Contents
Titlepage
Copyright
Commanding The Princess by Korey Mae Johnson
The Knight's Seduction by Renee Rose
The Widow is Mine by Ashe Baker
Conquering Lady Claire by Sue Lyndon
Kidnapped and Claimed by Dinah McLeod
The Conquered Brides
By
Renee Rose, Ashe Barker, Sue Lyndon, Korey Mae Johnson, and Dinah McLeod
Copyright © 2015 by Stormy Night Publications and Renee Rose, Ashe Barker, Sue Lyndon, Korey Mae Johnson, and Dinah McLeod
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic of mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Rose, Renee
Barker, Ashe
Lyndon, Sue
Johnson, Korey Mae
McLeod, Dinah
The Conquered Brides
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by The Killion Group, 123RF/Dl1ion, and Korey Mae Johnson
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Commanding the Princess
By
Korey Mae Johnson
Prologue
Some royals got to enjoy dances, great feasts, and lighted halls filled with merriment. Cruelly, in Hohenzollern, all Susanna seemed to get for entertainment was watching her uncle fight her battles for her with emissaries armed only with threats and warnings.
The man before her now was aggressively holding his stance. He was by far the angriest person she’d ever had in her presence. “Princess, many emissaries have come before me, and each has been sent away either with nothing or with empty promises. We can no longer allow your knights to maraud through our lands unchecked. If you are unable to control them, then you must cede the rule of these lands to someone who can!”
Her uncle stepping forward surely announced that she had already ceded control in all but name. He glanced her way as he was speaking, as if he were addressing her. “I hardly think, my lady, that you should allow this man to speak to you in this way!” snapped Lord Eberhard, his seething bark cutting off the emissary before he could continue. Eberhard turned to the man, not even giving his princess the opportunity to reply. “Go and tell your masters that Princess Susanna of Hohenzollern will not be ordered about by the rabble of the Free Cities.”
Susanna closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she once again silently cursed the fever which had taken her mother, the plague which had taken her brother, and the bowman whose arrow had taken her father on the battlefield six years past.
When she opened her eyes again, the emissary was still there. He seemed to hesitate before speaking his next words, and she could tell that he was struggling to control his anger. At last, he turned his shoulder to Eberhard and deliberately caught the eyes of Susanna. “Princess, if I have been informed correctly, you are the ruler here and this man,” he said, gesturing disgustedly toward Lord Eberhard, “is but an advisor. Those who sent me here bade me return with the answer of Princess Susanna of Hohenzollern, not the words of one of her lackeys.”
The words of her uncle, unfortunately, were the only words she could give this man—and everyone else that had come before her throne, for that matter. Susanna knew she could barely decide what to have for breakfast without her uncle overriding her. To be fair, though, her father had always been kept on his toes by his brother as well.
Her problem was simple enough; her own army was more loyal to her uncle than they were to her. Her words were only air, while his words carried weight.
The emissary’s threat seemed to carry weight as well, but even as he ranted on, Susanna’s attention was drawn not to him, but to the powerfully-built man standing a few feet behind him. His appearance puzzled Susanna. Though he wore the armor of a knight, his bearing was that of a great lord. At last, he stepped forward and covered the emissary’s shoulder with his large hand as if to calm him. The emissary was clearly prepared to let him speak the final word.
And speak it he did, even while holding her gaze. “Princess Susanna,” the big man began in a voice at once controlled yet still gruff like one who had spent most of his life shouting orders and expecting them obeyed. His measured tone evoked clouds holding a bolt of lightning. “When your father ruled these lands, there was peace between Hohenzollern and the Free Imperial Cities. Do not lightly throw that peace away. I assure you, princess, that if I am forced to return, it will be at the head of an army not even these mighty walls can withstand.”
Emissaries had arrived with threats before, but this threat made her stomach clench. She believed this man. There was nothing about him that said that he was a man who bluffed. She turned her head and stared at Eberhard, hoping that he was at least considering this, but the man stubbornly raised his chin.
She had no illusions about Eberhard’s loyalty—or lack of it—and if she defied him, he would have her own knights rising against her long before these men were able to journey home, let alone return with an army.
Eberhard, before she could open her lips, grated out a response, but she could barely hear it. Her uncle’s blustery words could not pull her attention from the big man’s eyes, which were fixed upon her. What she saw in them shocked her, because they held neither anger nor contempt. Instead, they were filled with pity.
Then his eyes left hers and caught those of her uncle. What Eberhard saw in the man’s eyes she would never know, but her advisor suddenly saw fit to bring his tirade to an instant end. As the warrior and the emissary turned to leave the audience hall, Susanna slumped in her gilded chair, wishing not for the first time that she had been born the daughter of a peasant.
Chapter One
Eight Months Later
Silence is meant to be broken. Unfortunately, it had taken far too long for Susanna to realize that, but when she did, she made up for it. At the top of her lungs, she cried, “Where in God’s name is Lord Eberhard!” Ladies, her mother once said, speak at volumes not far above a whisper. Today, however, she wasn’t a lady. She was a monarch who was completely unable to mask her fury. This was a time she actually needed her uncle’s advice, but he was nowhere to be found.
He had left her to her own devices only now when the castle was under siege. She was angry at her own surprise. She should have expected this.
“Princess…” began Ulrich, the captain of the guard, a title whose meaning was somewhat lessened by the fact that Ulrich had held the position for less than an hour. The previous captain of the guard—who himself had served in the role for all of two days—had fallen defending the breach in the south-east wall, and unless Susanna missed her guess, Ulrich was barely more than twenty years of age. Ulrich visibly gathered himself—he wasn’t experienced enough to know how to hide his nervousness—then continued, “Lord Eberhard was last seen half an hour ago, heading into the cellars.”
He meant to hide, Susanna knew, or perhaps flee through the underground passages that served as the castle’s escape route of last resort. He would leave her to face the end alone. “We can spare no men to search for him, but if he is seen,” she commanded with cold contempt in her voice, “he is to be executed immediately and his head put on a spike on the walls.” She meant it. It wasn’t a punishment her uncle ha
d spared his enemies in the past, and she would not spare her own enemy, either.
She paused for a moment to gather herself, then asked the question whose answer she most feared. “Can our defenses hold, Ulrich?” When Ulrich shifted his weight from foot to foot, she realized he was trying to decide on his answer—whether or not to let her in on the reality of the situation. “Do not seek to spare me the truth.”
Ulrich’s ashen face provided all the answer she needed, but dread filled her nonetheless when he spoke. “In truth, my lady, they cannot hold but a few more hours, even if the men fight to their last breath… and I fear there aren’t many who will do so. We must seek to get you out, princess. If we sortie from the west gate with all the men we have left, we might break through their lines long enough to get you to the forest beyond. Or we could take you through the passages in the cellars. Those passages end in the forest, and once you are out, I could send a few men with you while I stay behind with the rest to throw off any pursuit.”
His loyalty only deepened the pain which tore at her heart. She could not be blamed for what Eberhard had done as regent before she came of age, perhaps, but she had ruled this castle, at least in name, for two years now. Every life lost defending those walls and gates had been lost because of her failure to stand up to Eberhard in all that time.
If she was to do anything at all as their ruler, now was her last chance. She had family here, and she still had lives to protect. Knowing this, she pulled her shoulders back, took a deep breath for courage, and spoke with soft resignation. “No more men will die in my name, Ulrich. Raise a white flag over the keep and order the archers on the walls to hold their arrows. Leave the gates closed for the moment, and let us hope that whoever leads the enemy will see fit to treat with me.”
Ulrich looked stunned, and he did not move for a moment. “But princess, if you surrender, I do not know what their leader will have done with you. He is rumored to be a fearsome man.”
“Too long have I lived in fear and let others speak in my name. Today, I will speak for myself, come what may. Now obey this, my final command, and pray that the Lord will grant that mercy be shown to us this day.”
After only a moment more of hesitation, Ulrich bowed and left hastily.
* * *
There was a stillness after the white flag was raised, and everyone was tense and restless, waiting for what would happen next. The surrender had brought hoots of merriment from his army, but he and the men close about him were more experienced, and all knew that a white flag was only the beginning of a surrender.
Gerhard kept glancing expectantly at the battered gate of the great keep, wondering who the princess would send out to treat with them. It had to be a high-ranking official, and Gerhard hoped that she wasn’t silly enough to send out Eberhard—that is, if that oaf had the balls needed to come out and face him. He was probably somewhere in the castle, stuffing his pockets with whatever of value he could find.
There was a great stretching in the air and many expectant grunts from the men about him. He whipped his head toward the gate and saw that it was slowly opening. A white-cloaked figure was approaching the gate, a stark contrast against the blood-soaked snow and grime of war all around. Slowly it dawned on him that he was looking at a porcelain-skinned woman who had her head held high as she slowly walked through the mass of men now hemming her in on all sides.
Then Gerhard realized who it was, and he felt like someone had just thrown ice water over his head.
This was no lady-in-waiting or minor noblewoman sent to beg for favorable terms of surrender, although it should have been. He would have never guessed that the princess would come out herself.
The men milled about yet made a clear path between himself and the princess as she approached, and upon reaching him she did not wait for him to speak first. “I am Princess Susanna of Hohenzollern,” she told him with a clear, smooth voice. “I’ve come to beg mercy for the suffering of my people.”
He could hear the fear in her voice, but just barely. He had not expected this. He had expected her to bargain, not to beg. Nonetheless, he had to act quickly, before the crowd of soldiers got it in their heads to exact their own justice upon her person. They were a rough bunch, and he didn’t want to have to do any more killing today. He could tell by the way some of them growled that he needed to claim a quick hold on this situation.
“Mercy?” he replied loudly so that his men could hear him. “What mercy did your knights show to those whose farms they pillaged and whose daughters they ravished, as you did nothing to stop them?” His orders were to bring her alive to Vienna to face the imperial court, but if he wanted to keep these men—many of them recruited from the very villages her knights had ransacked—from trying to kill her here and now, he needed to let them know he shared their anger.
He expected a defense of her actions, or perhaps even pleas for his mercy, but her response stunned him. “I do not beg mercy for myself, but for my people. I stand before you prepared to accept whatever justice you see fit, if only you will spare the innocent women and children of this castle, and the men who fought bravely to defend it.”
Gerhard paused, considering. This rabble of an army the nobles of the Free Cities had cobbled together was going to sack this castle, take everything that they could carry, and probably try to burn the rest, that much was certain, and he would be hard pressed to keep them from having their way with any woman they could lay hands on. Men like these thought women to be little more than the spoils of war.
The princess looked at him through glistening eyes, but no tears spilled down her cheeks. Still, his heart began to clench and a part deep inside him demanded that he acquiesce. When he spoke at last, he spoke loudly again so that everyone could hear him.
“I am Gerhard of Bavaria, and you have my word that the lives of your people will be spared. If women are taken from this castle, they will be taken as wives, and they will be treated well by the men who take them.” He paused again, before speaking directly to his army. “You may take whatever plunder you can find, but if any man among you commits rape or murder, I will have him hanged!”
The relief on the face of the princess filled Gerhard with a strange joy, though he knew his next words would bring the fear back to those beautiful eyes. He had to deliver the emperor’s message, something he had been dreading since he’d first caught sight of her eight months before. “As for you, princess, you will be brought to the court of the Holy Roman Emperor in Vienna, where you will stand trial for your life.”
* * *
Susanna was accustomed to the feeling of fear. For the past several years she had wondered each morning if Eberhard would choose that day to put an end to her by some nefarious means, thus removing the only remaining obstacle to his absolute rule over Hohenzollern. How she’d lived one-and-twenty years without being poisoned was beyond her, and in a way she had grown used to thinking of herself as living on borrowed time.
It wasn’t the decree itself that rattled her. She had expected that much since she looked out her windows over a week ago and saw the army marching toward the castle. What made her bones feel like they were about to crumble was the hard-jawed gaze of the army’s commander, the same man who had warned her that this would happen all those months ago. He was impossible not to recognize with his dark brown eyes, the color of wet soil, and the untrimmed chestnut curls which fell over his eyes.
She was going to beg to see her little sister and to say goodbye to her cousins… but now she thought better of it. She had asked enough favors from this enemy, and she was fortunate to have been granted as much as she had, because he did not look like he was in good humor.
A soldier reached to touch her from behind, but even as she turned to jerk herself away, the commander—who was apparently known as Gerhard—stepped forward and cuffed the man across the cheek so hard that she heard a loud, meaty crunch. With a sharp intake of breath, she spun and watched the two face off.
“Touch her, and die,”
she heard Gerhard state coldly. “Anyone touches her, and they will answer to me,” he decreed. “She will be brought to justice in safety. She is property of the Holy Roman Empire now!”
She frowned at this and tried to keep her chin raised. Property of the Holy Roman Empire. What a phrase with which to end her rule. She took a deep breath, trying to gain courage, trying not to think about the days ahead, or about her kin who were still in the castle. She would have given anything just to look up at her home one last time, to see the people who were left watching her from the ramparts… but she knew she couldn’t. She had to stay strong. She had to remain proud and royal.
“Rennio!” the commander suddenly boomed, turning behind him, looking past what seemed to be his personal guard. “Where is Bishop Rennio?”
“He’s drinking,” the man replied, rolling his eyes. “Already.”
The commander grunted his disdain and then turned to a young boy and ordered that Rennio be found and brought to him. As the boy hopped off, the commander turned back to Susanna and stepped toward her. He put his hand around her forearm and tugged her close to him. “I will not harm you as long as you do not attempt to escape,” he said in a tone which almost seemed gentle.
She blinked at him. “Where would I go?” she asked defensively.
“Just don’t try anything. You’ll be guarded, and the men outside are not gentlemen. They’re not loyal. They’re not your subjects. Do I need to frighten you with details of what might happen, or are you going to be a good girl and stay where I put you?”
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