Table of Contents
To the Victor
Book Details
To Rescue a Princess
All the Knights
Choosing Sides
Not Personal
Silly Notions
The Duel
Wanting More
Oaths
Damsel in Distress
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Glossary
Wolf Knight
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Pipsqueak
My Brave Knight
Debating the Dragon
For Queen and Country
Perilous Knights
About the Authors
To the Victor
EDITED BY
SAMANTHA M. DERR
In this anthology, knights, lords, ladies, and royalty collide as tournament and quests are faced in the name of love.
To Rescue a Princess by Annabeth Leong—All the knights of the realm are invited to compete to win the hand of Princess Cordelia by rescuing her from a dragon, and Sir Elizabeth, the only female knight, demands to be included. Princess Cordelia, however, doesn't want her dragon to be killed and has mixed feelings about being rescued and won.
Damsel in Distress by Asta Idonea—When King Wybert holds a joust to choose a suitable husband for the princess, foreign knights journey to the court to compete. Ser Hemming is drawn to one of their number—Ser Estienne. Then the kidnapping of the princess puts loyalties and loves to the test...
Wolf Knight by C.C. Bridges—It should be a simple assignment: Renne has only to escort a noblewoman to Castle Graymore for the celebration of fifty years of peace. But the noblewoman is really a princess bound for marriage, and no good can come of a princess and a knight falling in love...
Pipsqueak by L.S. Engler—Squeak is used to being thought of as unremarkable. Too small, too slight, too unremarkable. Never enough of anything. He's hoping the Tournament of Champions will give him a chance to prove he's more, not less. Then the princess gets kidnapped.
My Brave Knight by Daniela Jeffries—When they meet at a joust, it is love at first sight for Amir, a Moorish knight from Italy, and Miryam, the wealthy daughter of Algerian merchants. But romance doesn't do well when there's a secret, especially if the wrong person learns it...
Debating the Dragon by Meredith Katz—Dame Ismay Wexley (May, to her friends) is like any other knight: she wants to win love and glory, and be known far and wide for her great deeds. Too bad she has to work three times as hard as her male peers. It's with this in mind that she takes on a great quest: to rescue a princess trapped in a tower and guarded by a fierce dragon...
For Queen and Country by Kayla Bain-Vrba—Kyrrin is a knight of the Queen's Guard and has sworn to protect the Queen with his life. When the Queen falls ill from some magical malady, the entire kingdom rallies to her cause, but to no avail. Just when he is about to lose all hope, Kyrrin is given a map to a magical flower that just might save his Queen.
Perilous Knights by Charles Payseur—Sir Lamorak might be a knight from an influential family, but ever since he ran away from home with only his younger brother Percy and older squire Ruwena, he's struggled to stay out of trouble. In serious debt to a nefarious knight, all Lam's hopes rest now on winning a major tourney...
To the Victor
Edited by Samantha M. Derr
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
To Rescue a Princess Edited by Keith Kaczmarek, Damsel in Distress Edited by Constance Blye, Wolf Knight edited by Keith Kaczmarek, Pipsqueak edited by V.E. Duncan, My Brave Knight edited by James Loke Hale, Debating the Dragon edited by Keith Kaczmarek, For Queen and Country edited by Cora Walker, Perilous Knights edited by V.E. Duncan
Cover designed by Natasha Snow
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
First Edition November 2017
To Rescue a Princess Copyright © 2017 by Annabeth Leon, Damsel in Distress Copyright © 2017 by Asta Indonea, Wolf Knight Copyright © 2017 by C.C. Bridges, Pipsqueak Copyright © 2017 by L.S. Engler, My Brave Knight Copyright © 2017 by Daniela Jeffries, Debating the Dragon Copyright © 2017 by Meredith Katz, For Queen and Country Copyright © 2017 by Kayla Bain-Vrba, Perilous Knights Copyright © 2017 by Charles Payseur
Printed in the United States of America
Digital ISBN 9781684311361
Print ISBN 9781684311613
To Rescue a Princess
ANNABETH LEONG
All the Knights
"All the knights are in that room?"
The guard nodded, looking a bit nervous in response to Beth's stormy expression.
"What exactly are they doing in there?"
Relaxing, the guard took on a self-important air as he detailed the proclamation that had called them all to the king's audience chamber. Beth fixated on the tuft of red hair that swayed across his forehead as he spoke, partly in an effort to hold back her violent impulses.
"He's explaining about the princess," the guard said. "She's been put in a tower, and a dragon has been chosen to protect her there. Only the worthiest knight will slay the dragon and win her hand."
"You don't say," Beth drawled. "And who all is in there again?"
"Everyone. All the knights. Some princes from neighboring countries. A lot of the nobles."
This man truly didn't understand why Beth was angry. She opened her eyes wide, wondering whether he could put any of this together on his own, or if she'd have to spell it out letter by letter.
Her expression only seemed to confuse him. Beth sighed, and began trying to help him with the heavy mental lifting.
"All the knights, you say."
"Yes."
"All of them?" Beth gestured toward her body, indicating the heraldic insignia that covered her breastplate.
The guard blinked. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again. He peered at Beth's breastplate, at her weapons, at her short-cropped hair.
She cleared her throat impatiently. "Surely, you know who I am."
"Of course, Lady—"
"Sir. Not Lady. Lady is not a military title. Sir is. It's Sir Elizabeth."
He corrected himself. "Of course, Sir."
Beth rolled her eyes. "So, can you now see why I am skeptical of your claim that all the knights are in that room?"
The sunshine of understanding finally began to dawn over the man's freckled face, and for a moment Beth dared to hope. Then he spoke again. "I meant to say, all the male knights are in that room."
"Did you now?" Beth's voice had grown soft and dangerous. "All the male knights. You mean, all the knights except for me."
"I suppose it works out that way," the man said, his gaze shifting from side to side.
"Yes, it does, doesn't it?"
"I'm sorry if that offends you, ma'am."
"Sir," Beth corrected.
"Sir," he agreed. "I'm sorry if that offends you, Sir. I think that's just the way things are."
"The way things are," Beth repeated, annoyed with herself for echoing everything this moron had t
o say.
"Yes," the man said mildly, apparently unperturbed that the way things are was so unfair.
"Well," Beth said, "I'll just be heading in then, to join the rest of the knights."
Alarm bloomed over the man's sleepy face. He blocked the door with his pike. "I'm afraid I can't let you in."
"Why not?"
"The king didn't include you in his proclamation."
"The king's proclamation was directed toward all the male knights, specifically?"
"Well, no. Not in so many words."
"If the king said he wanted all the knights in that room, then don't you think it would be a good idea for you to make sure all the knights enter that room?"
"Anyone would understand the king didn't mean—"
"These are amazing times in which we live, in which every simple guard in the palace can presume to know what the king did or did not mean."
The guard blushed. "I'm simply saying, uh, Sir, that I don't see why you'd want to be in that room. What the king is telling them doesn't, you know, apply to you."
"What he has to say to all the knights doesn't apply to me?"
He was nearly dancing at this point, apparently uncomfortable with standing on either of his feet for any length of time. "The princess, Sir. She's, uh, a woman. And you, Sir, are also—"
"A woman. I've noticed."
"So, uh, if you were to be the one to slay the dragon, uh, and win the princess's hand…"
He trailed off, as if unable to muster the energy required to finish his thought. Beth nodded encouragingly. "Go on. If those things were to happen…"
"Then you'd have to marry the princess."
"Yes."
"So, a woman would have to marry…"
"Another woman. Yes."
"That's—"
"—exactly what the king's cousin, Lady Jeanne, did three years ago," Beth put in smoothly, "when she married the Duchess of Hachette."
There were, of course, details that Beth didn't see fit to bring up now. The king had given a nice explanation about how Lady Jeanne's marriage was entirely legal, fully supported by both religious and historical tradition, and not at all a deviation from what the people of their society ought to consider normal. Most people had understood that, convincing as his speech may have been, the true explanation for the unusual wedding was that Lady Jeanne was King Carlysle's favorite cousin, and he could deny her nothing. Since then, people concerned with the matter guessed that marriages between women were now technically legal, but Beth hadn't heard of anyone after Lady Jeanne taking the risk and finding out for sure.
At the moment, however, there was no need to debate fine points or technicalities. Instead, she leaned back on her heels and watched the dilemma work its way through the guard's head. He couldn't dispute the letter of the claims the king had made on behalf of Lady Jeanne, and Beth had already called him out for presuming to know King Carlysle's intentions beyond what had been clearly stated.
In the end, he lifted the pike out of her way without another word, and Beth slipped into the room, careful to step lightly so the clank of her armor didn't disrupt the announcement that was already underway.
She took the closest seat to the door, in the very back, knowing the shadows mostly covered her there. Still, her entrance had not gone unremarked. Whispers swept through the room like a breeze through tall grass at the lakeside. Beth caught the glances tossed her way, some hostile, and some speculative in a way she found uncomfortable.
Many of the knights were still angry about the title Beth had been given—though, by organizing the defense of Tyrell Keep, which would otherwise have certainly fallen, fighting at the front lines of that battle herself, and killing the commander of the besieging forces in single combat, Beth had more than earned it. Others, she knew, were enjoying the thought of what Beth and the princess might do together should they marry. Some were indifferent, and she liked them for it. If all the other knights could simply leave her alone and allow her to perform her duties, she would have no quarrel with any of them. Sir Mark tossed her an encouraging smile, and she smiled back. He had been the one to tell her about this audience, the one who had made her realize it was wrong to be left out of it, even if she had never aspired to marrying a woman in general or the king's daughter in particular.
The audience chamber smelled of wood, as rich as a forest, but drier and more refined. It smelled of well-cleaned smoking implements, of port, of the oils used on beards. In short, it smelled of things associated with men. Beth, for all her bluster, felt out of place there. She comforted herself with the thought that a fine lady's receiving room would have been just as foreign. Beth had been born with a title, but at Tyrell Keep, her position hadn't precluded housework and callused hands. It hadn't precluded playing with the boys and learning to use a sword. Lavender, antique stitchery, and tiny chocolates would have seemed just as strange, would have represented just as many things she had lacked the opportunity to learn.
"Let me spend a few moments speaking of the virtues of my daughter, Princess Cordelia," King Carlysle was saying. "Anyone with eyes can see her beauty. She gets it from her mother, of course."
He smiled here, gesturing deferentially toward a portrait of his queen, and Beth joined in awkwardly with the polite laughter that followed.
"It is not simply beauty, however, that marks a princess," he continued. "From birth, Cordelia has had all the best tutors. She has learned comportment and the etiquette of this realm and many others. She knows how to make herself and anyone beside her appear absolutely refined and appropriate, and would be an incredible asset to anyone who wishes to rule with diplomacy and grace. She has been taught the intricacies of hosting royal events and dinners, and there is none besides my wife who can manage the palace staff with such excellent results."
Beth blinked. She hadn't realized he would—or would need to—advertise his daughter. Wasn't it enough, at least in the stories, for Princess Cordelia to be beautiful, and for marrying her to assure a position as heir to the throne?
She listened to King Carlysle explain how many languages Cordelia spoke, and how well. He gave a list of the subjects she could discuss with sophistication, and provided anecdotes of how her charm had already on several occasions softened difficult international situations.
For Beth, the experience was enlightening. When Sir Mark had first confided that he thought she should have been invited to this event, she had been confused. "I'm not in love with the princess," she'd said.
"Do you think I am? Do you think any of the knights are? Sir Elizabeth, this sort of thing is not about love."
"What is about, then?" she had asked, but now she could answer for herself.
Listening to the king, Beth could see this was about power. This was about putting together the elements required to run a kingdom. Cordelia was supposed to bring the skill of seven diplomats to a royal partnership. The knight who won her hand was supposed to bring strength, both perceived—think of the admiration that could be won by defeating a great monster!—and real, for King Carlysle did not offer the title of knight to anyone who had not proven themselves both strategically and tactically in battle.
"The contest officially begins in one fortnight," he said. "It continues until someone defeats the dragon and claims the hand of the princess. While you will be expected to obey all rules of chivalry, I anticipate seeing a great deal of competition between you, both in the vicinity of Cordelia's tower and away from it."
Ah, Beth thought. There's the strategy again.
"In the end, I look forward to greeting the"—King Carlysle glanced at Beth—"person who will become my daughter's spouse. I look forward to welcoming that person to the royal family."
Person? More than a few eyebrows raised at the way King Carlysle chose to word his final statements. Beth leaned back in her seat. She felt as if he was talking directly to her. Did he, for some reason, hope she would be the one to win Cordelia's hand?
Whether King Carlysle hoped so or
not, Beth intended to do it. She had sworn her oaths as a knight in all seriousness. Beth believed in the system. This was no different. With all her heart, she believed in the competition now laid out before the knights. The contest would be hard, and would test even the worthiest, and the one who emerged victorious would deserve every reward they received.
Beth would become the person King Carlysle was looking for. She would win Cordelia. She would become the leader of the realm one day. She would serve as the strength, and Cordelia would serve as the softness, and together they would be the greatest rulers the kingdom had ever seen.
If they were lucky, they might even fall in love. Stranger things had happened. Beth had never loved a woman before, but it didn't seem impossible. Right now, nothing did.
Choosing Sides
The clang of steel outside the tower alerted Cordelia to the presence of another knight. In the two months she had been locked there, would-be rescuers had appeared constantly, at all hours of day and night.
At first, she had felt guilty when the dragon killed them. Now, she believed they got what they deserved.
After all, neither she nor the dragon had asked for the knights to come attempt to rescue her.
She had grown attached to the dragon and it pained her to see its wounds. Most nights, she found herself outside the tower patching it up as best she could, applying what few magical concoctions she could create to ease its pain. In the early mornings, assuming no knights were on the horizon, she worked to train the dragon to improve its fighting skills and battle intelligence. She'd also taught it a few nasty surprises for a knight who came too close to defeating it.
It provided at least some gratification to find that her skill as a trainer was real. Cordelia had always feared that the compliments she received from the royal beastmaster had owed more to her noble birth than to her actual abilities.
It was a bittersweet pleasure. Were she free to choose her own profession, she would have spent her life among the dragons. As princess, however, duty required she devote herself elsewhere.
Instead of the nuances of behavior and communication that drove the great beasts, she had been given every instruction about the etiquette and subtleties that guided the machinations of the court.
To the Victor Page 1
