Romance: The Bad Boy Affair: A Second Chance Romance

by Veronica Cross

  No. You mean your dignity, because I don’t care about mine. Giss flexed her fingers, before balling them into two fists. “What is this prince’s name?”

  Her mother appeared relieved at the question. “Prince Horace. He’s a good lad. He’s third in line to his throne, so quite close to the source of power. There’s no reason why you may not be queen of that kingdom someday. I think you will approve of this one, if you give it some time.”

  “Perhaps.” Giss’s voice came out dead, hollow. The muscles in her face had temporarily stopped working. “I guess I will have to work hard at making him hate me.”

  And, before her parents had a chance to protest, to scold or call her silly, Giss whirled, a throwback to true dramatic princess fashion, and sped out of the throne room, muting any calls that came from behind.

  Chapter Two: Studying for Escape.

  Giss had a plan. Not a brilliant one, by any means, but enough of one that might save her from being hitched up prematurely to a prince.

  Prince Horace visited a total of four times before their due marriage date, and each expression had left her more doubtful than hopeful at the notion of marriage. Not only did he appear as the iconic depiction of a handsome prince, blonde haired and blue-eyed with a perpetually whimsical expression, he also seemed completely in thrall to his family’s wishes. She hadn’t quite resorted to dumping buckets of icy water over his head, or searched for frog curses, but she was getting there.

  “So tell me, Horace,” she had said on his last visit, as they walked around the royal gardens, politely (and reluctantly) linked arm-in-arm, “What made you decide you would risk marrying me? Out of all the princesses in the world, I hardly think a handsome young man like yourself would have troubles finding one who will love you unconditionally.”

  “Uh. Well,” Horace had replied, brow furrowed deep in thought, “It’s a marriage of convenience. You were single, I was single, we are a mere few days away by carriage… it is a good match.”

  “But you don’t actually love me, right?” Giss prompted, smiling at him when he looked at her.

  “I suppose… well that is to say, I’m sure I will learn to love you…?” The way he formed it as a question betrayed his mind.

  “So you don’t,” Giss said emphatically.

  Horace had looked deeply uncomfortable with the admission. “That’s not something we should be talking about.”

  “But why not? Wouldn’t people be happier if they married people they liked? I mean, look at me. All freckles and hair. I don’t like doing ‘princess’ things, and you’ll probably have a nightmarish time with me. So why don’t you choose to break this up of your own accord? You will be much better off for it.”

  “Um.” Horace at this point had started to sweat. “This is what has been asked of us by our families. It’s disrespectful to go against them. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh well,” Giss had said, under her breath.

  The first plan of trying to convince the prince to break it off didn’t work. The second plan of persuading her mother that this was a huge mistake and she would probably blight the family name didn’t succeed, either. Queen Beatrice and King Patrick closed themselves off to her words, leaving Giss with the ugly certainty that maybe this wasn’t something she could wriggle out of this time. Life as she knew it would come to a grinding halt.

  Ardemar continued to send her letters, though she read none of them. She always took one glance at the black rose sealing wax, the rose looking suspiciously like a skull, and shoved it out of sight.

  All the pressure led her to a last minute, desperate plot. One of the less advertised rules of the kingdoms was the note of prestige that came from defeating the monsters roaming the wilderness. For example, if a princess had been captured by a werewolf, the person who defeated the werewolf and claimed the princess would be guaranteed either marriage or fame. When the monster population went on the decline, due to the large number of kidnappings and quests that the kingdoms coveted, the more intelligent of the monsters arranged in some cases for a pre-planned kidnapping, paid for by the noble family themselves, in an attempt to raise their status.

  Indeed, spontaneous kidnappings turned instead into win-win deals. Trading princesses became the monster currency for a while, and allowed some to gain “fear” status. Scarier monsters were paid more. Some monsters were paid extra to not rape the princesses, whilst other arrangements thought damaged goods would endear the princess to society, by letting them see her go through hardships, only to become a tough and brave individual at the end. However, knowing Giss’s family, if she raised the proposal of being kidnapped for status, they would almost certainly decline. Anything Giss said or suggested – would be too blatant a manipulation attempt.

  So, somehow, by herself, she needed to find a monster to kidnap her. And not just any monster. One that featured high on the “difficult to defeat” factor.

  Giss thought of the ones she knew. Werewolves were too easy – a little bit of silver and even a baby could beat them. Vampires slept in the daytime. Anyone with a basic working knowledge of UV spells could incinerate them. Ogres and giants were strong, but stupid. Trolls spent too much time drugged up on various herbal “remedies”, and elves didn’t take part in the kidnapping exchange. Even the dark elves. They mostly hid underground, in that secretive and xenophobic manner of theirs.

  No. She needed something scary, intelligent, and preferably not too prone to eating humans. Checking the castle library, she found a tome worthwhile checking. Sat up in her tower one night, flipping through the Encyclopaedia of Monsters, there were three options which looked promising. The Roc, a massive bird of prey, the dragon, a creature of wings, claws and fangs with a tendency to burn things, or the minotaur. Minotaur’s had an unfortunate habit of keeping their captured subjects in mazes. The Roc lived far too high up in needle thin peaks for Giss’s comfort, and would sometimes feed living royal flesh to their young. This left her with the dragon, notorious cave dwellers and hoarders of treasure.

  Great. Now all I need to do is find one willing to kidnap me. I could give it jewels, maybe raid the treasury…

  Giss wrote down her plans in shorthand, in case a spying servant stumbled over them. She studied where dragons were most likely to turn up, and searched for objects that could be used to summon or attract them, like a dragon horn or monster portal. The only monster portal she knew was sealed in the magic vault because it would bring about the end of the world if it ever got used, and the nearest dragon horn was eight kingdoms away, which was apparently overrun by dragons.

  Next night, she placed her badly improvised plan into action. With a pullover dress stuffed into her satchel, and a small tiara – after all, she needed to at least look like a princess when she found a dragon – she crept out of the castle. Several valuable jewels bounced in the satchel as well. One of them happened to be the Crown of Jaeland. Gissandra smirked at the idea of her parents finding the most valuable object in their kingdom missing. She also took two weapons – a knife and a thin sword, concealed under her cloak. With only one month of sword-fighting lessons under her belt, she doubted she could actually fight. The appearance of a sword served better in situations where others might be intimidated by the impression their target could fight back.

  In plain linen clothes, the few servants she did pass in the dim corridors took no heed, as long as she bowed her head and slouched along. Her heart raced the whole time, dreading the moment someone would spot her as Gissandra and cry out, ruining the escape. Princesses generally didn’t sneak out of their homes, since it would likely place dirt on their beautiful dresses, so she had that going for her.

  Outside the castle, she ducked behind some bushes in the garden, heart hammering. The stars shone bright, and a lemon-slice of moon winked at her. She turned, to stare at the castle that had been her home for eighteen years, and up to the tower where she spent hours studying, sleeping, and having fake conversations with herself. At some point in her life, and Giss cou
ldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, her home had become a prison.

  As Giss tore her gaze away, and walked out of the castle grounds down one of the market streets, she wondered again if this choice was the right one. Then, she thought about the prince, and her parents. If she did get eaten, at least it would be in an act of defiance.

  Sort of.

  Making it to the local carriage station, where a few very sleepy drivers huddled up inside the waiting quarters, she managed to persuade one to drive her to the tip of Greenwood pass, a mountainous area on the edge of the kingdom.

  “That’s a nine-hour ride, miss,” the driver said, picking his nose. “And that’s right dangerous territory, that is. Monsters are abundant in Greenwood.”

  Giss held her thumb up. “That’s the point. I want to employ a monster for a kidnapping.”

  “Ah. Makes sense. We’ll be stopping for breakfast in the morning, though. I’m not riding that the whole way there and back without some food in my belly.”

  “I agree.”

  Giss found it amusing the driver didn’t question the statement. Although people did seek monsters for employing, she was surprised he didn’t try harder to stop her. Then again, it might have been for the fact she handed him five gold coins as payment, which amounted to three months’ worth of wages.

  Clambering into the carriage through a roll-out step, she locked the door, and peered through the small window in front to where she saw the driver sit, gather up the reins of his two horses, and flick them. The horses walked, then trotted into action, wheels rumbling and hooves clacking over cobblestones. The stuffy smell of leather permeated Giss’s nostrils, and dust tickled her nose and dried her throat. She ran a finger over the window, leaving a trail of clear glass on the dirt, and a smudge on her skin. The sword nudged uncomfortably against her thigh, so she adjusted it to protrude over the seat.

  The carriage rolled on into the night, leaving everything she knew behind.

  Chapter Three: Giss, the Ogre, and the Dragons

  Breakfast of bacon, eggs and bread churned in Giss’s stomach. She watched the driver trundle away, eventually swallowed up by the trees. A light breeze stirred her cloak as she began the walk up the stone path. It didn’t take long before the throb of developing blisters rubbed her feet, and sweat plastered her forehead. Barely half an hour in, she almost screamed in fright when an ogre lumbered in front of her, wielding a huge, spiky club. Six feet tall and almost as wide, it had a stretched face like a potato resting on its stubby body. It wore animal furs, and dirt crusted its yellowish skin.

  “Hello,” she tried, when the ogre didn’t move. It instead looked just as startled as she felt. “I hope you’re having a nice day.”

  “You’re a human,” the ogre said, squinting. The voice hit a mid-pitch. Giss couldn’t decide if it was female or male, and didn’t want to make the wrong assumption. She had read that ogres were prone to rages if you made one slip-up, no matter how small.

  “That I am.” Giss nodded, speaking a little slower.

  “Humans don’t-come-here.”

  It took Giss a second to comprehend what the ogre had said. It spoke sentences in a slur, as if they were one word squeezed out.

  “This one is. I’m looking for dragons.”

  At this, the ogre scrunched its face up, perplexed. “Why would you want to-do-that? Dragons are big and scary.”

  “I want to be kidnapped by them. I’m a princess.”

  “Oh.” The ogre scratched its head. Gissandra decided it might be a fairly young ogre.

  “Do you know which direction they are? I’m a little lost, and you look like you might know things.”

  At this, the ogre grinned, displaying blunt, square shaped teeth. “Yeah… I do! There.” The ogre pointed with its club. “Not-too-far. They gather by-the-ledge sometimes. You can see them flying if you-stand-there, too. I-like-watching them.”

  “Do you? Why is that?”

  The ogre shrugged. “I want to fly-like-them. I think flying-is-magical.”

  Gissandra nodded, and smiled, once she had worked out what the ogre said. “Who is to say you won’t, some day?”

  The ogre nodded furiously. “Yeah… yeah! Who is?” It checked over Giss, before completing a short, clumsy bow. “Thank-you-princess. Good-day.”

  Watching the monster depart, Giss’s mouth curved up at the corners. Maybe monsters weren’t always as terrible and scary as most of the books depicted. Or maybe they were, and she just happened to bump into one of the less aggressive ones. She picked her way through the grass, leather shoes sinking into soft loam, and brushed her palms over bark and brush. The throbbing in her feet built up, and her breath came out in little pants. Crows cawing in their hoarse voices echoed through the tree canopy. Nine-plus hours of travel and walking with a body unused to travel placed a large strain on her.

  Twenty minutes later, she approached a rocky precipice, which jutted out from a large, blackened clearing. The plant life abruptly halted at the edges of the barren ground. Giss identified it as a mix of charcoal and ash. The clearing itself looked large enough to allow a lot of dragons to roost at once – if they happened to be the size of houses.

  A tremor of nervousness flickered through Giss. The remote possibility of being burned to a crisp before being asked any questions by the reptilian creatures sprung to mind. She had also, unfortunately, never seen a dragon up close. Unsure of what else to do, and footsore from her walk, she changed into her princess dress and tiara, and sat down at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the lip, watching the sky, the mountains and the forest beneath.

  She wondered by now if the alarm had been raised in the castle, or if people assumed she was sleeping in, or locked up in her study in a tantrum. Maybe they would think she left the castle to visit the market, or maybe a servant would recall that furtive figure shuffling through the halls late at night. With any luck, when the court magicians eventually began crying for her, they would see her in the clutches of a dragon, and most of the princes and knights would be too afraid to tackle one of the most dangerous foes of all. Unless they had anti-dragon equipment. Which was rare and hard to find.

  Of course, if they discovered what she had managed to snatch from the vaults, they might be a little more enthusiastic about rescuing her. A few curious frogs hopped to her from the rim of the clearing, ribbitting. One of the trio puckered up its lips as it clambered onto her lap.

  “No kisses for you.” Giss tapped the big frog on its head. It gave her sad eyes and waddled off, forlorn. The other two hopped afterwards. It may have once been a prince. It equally had the chance of being a reverse curse, so when she kissed it, she too would turn into one; so it was usually best not to mess around with those things until being absolutely certain. Giss wondered how many magically enchanted princes and princesses lay in the forest, waiting for their curses to break. A popular curse for a while was turning princes and princesses into chickens, but if the prince or princess then mated or laid an egg, the resulting egg was golden. So, due to the overwhelming number of curses not being broken like usual, because people realized they could sell the eggs for a thousand gold each, the chicken phase died out. The point of curses in the fairy kingdoms eventually normalized, although you still saw the odd revenge curse from embittered siblings in large families, or the classic evil stepmother set-up with a spinning wheel.

  A shape dived through the clouds, dark wings spanning out. At this distance, it matched the size of Giss’s hand. A thrill of excitement and fear hit. A dragon? She eyed it like a cat, never breaking contact with the soaring mass. It made loops, sometimes dipping and sometimes rising, as if playing. She doubted she could grab its attention from her position, so continued observing it. Giss spotted a greenish hue on its wings with one dive, the sun rays catching the bat-like fabric, and strained harder to establish the color of the dragon.

  She got the absolute fright of her life when a heavy shift of air buffeted her from behind, followed by a shadow. In a pan
ic, she scrambled away from the edge, in time to see a dragon strike the ground next to her, wings flared. It kept the wings unfurled and teeth showing as it scrutinized her. Gissandra, still in a state of shock and adrenaline, absorbed in the sight of the ten-foot-tall, mottled blue dragon.

  “Well, well, well.” The dragon’s snout thrust forwards, nostrils flaring. The syllables escaped as a hiss. “Looks and smells like a princess.” Long, chipped talons dug into the ash.

  Gissandra attempted to keep her voice steady. “That would be correct. I’m Gissandra Jael of the kingdom of Jaeland, ninth in line to the throne. And you are?”

  “Your end. Little girls like you shouldn’t be roaming out here.” A blue, whiplash tail flicked in agitation. “I’ve never tasted princess meat before...”

  “Oh.” Gissandra struggled to control her fear. “I want to volunteer to be a dragon’s princess, though. Maybe you shouldn’t eat me.”

  The dragon, at first adopting a look of malicious glee, changed it to one of dumb astonishment, jaw dropping. “… What?”

  “I want to pay a dragon to kidnap me. For the honor of my kingdom.”

  The dragon whipped its long, serpentine neck backwards, regarding her with utter confusion. “Princesses don’t volunteer. Their families arrange it, or they get captured, screaming in their pathetic human fear. At least, my princess is like that.”

  “I don’t think I need you to tell me what I’m not supposed to do,” Giss said, wearily. “Wait. You have a princess, and you were going to eat me?” She flinched when the dragon let out a deep bellow, the sound carrying off the cliffs and into the air. She risked a peek backwards, and saw the looping dragon suddenly freeze and hover mid-air, before making a bee-line for the ledge. Upwards, more shapes appeared, all responding to what must have been a dragon-call.