Kiss of the Royal

by Lindsey Duga

  I just stared at her.

  Robin sighed in exasperation. “By the wind wisps, sister! You really need to listen to the dinner talk more. There’s a new Royal among the Saevallans who’s supposed to be the best fighter the four kingdoms have seen in over half a century! He’s young but extremely powerful. People say he’s already taken down a troll’s lair—by himself!”

  I shrugged. “That’s not too impressive.”

  “No, Ivy, he was by himself. There was no princess—no Kiss. Rumor is he’s never had a partner before.”

  I laughed. “That’s the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no way a Royal without a Kiss can defeat five trolls by himself.”

  Robin blushed, no doubt realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

  Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I grabbed Robin’s hands and squeezed them. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if it were true, though? Imagine a man that strong without magic. Imagine what he could do with a Kiss…” I lunged for Colette and tickled her sides. “Take down the Evil Mother herself!”

  Colette squealed and laughed, pushing Robin between us.

  Robin grinned. “There’d be no one like him in all the kingdoms. He’d be a perfect partner for you.”

  Colette peeked out from behind Robin. “Plus, I bet he’s got muscles for days.”

  At that, I lost it, dissolving into a fit of giggles.

  “It’s all muscles with you, Lettie.” Robin swatted Colette with a pillow. “He’s probably tall, to have taken down trolls.”

  “Why? You can be short and take down trolls!”

  “Everyone knows trolls’ necks are the weakest, and that’s the best way to kill them. How can someone short reach their necks?” Robin argued back.

  “They could hop!” Colette protested.

  “Oh, would all their leg muscles help them hop?”

  “Girls!” I broke free from my laughter and wrapped them both in my arms. It was moments like these when I was thankful I had them in my life. They’d been able to coax a laugh out of me on a day such as this one. “You’re talking about my future partner. Now get to bed—both of you. And don’t forget your prayers.”

  They hugged me good night, and when they got to the door, Robin paused. “Whether it’s true or not what people say about him, the Mages are considering him for your new partner.” With that, she shut the door behind her, and I was left chuckling to myself at the idea of my new partner being able to take down a troll’s lair “by himself” and having “muscles for days.” Even though they were surely exaggerated, the rumors gave me hope for victorious battles to come…but the rest was only childish imagination.

  …

  The next morning, I opened the door on Bromley’s third knock, and his brown eyes lit with recognition at my attire.

  I had exchanged my tunic and boots for my Royal Legion dress and charcoal gray cloak. The gown was made of fine cream fabric with gold thread entwining in intricate designs along the hem and sleeves, with a golden Royal crest over my left breast. In meeting the Saevallan Royals, I had to look the part of Myria’s finest.

  “Good morning, Brom,” I said, stepping into the hallway. The sunrise coming in from the eastern bay windows made the gold piping glitter.

  “Good morning, princess.” He eyed my fine cloak then glanced at my red-brown curls that were, as usual, wound into a tight bun. “You look very nice, but you do realize they’re not here yet, right?”

  I ruffled his honey-colored hair. “When they arrive I don’t want to rush to change. Now, why are you grumpy this morning?”

  Brom dodged my hand, his cheeks tinged pink. “I’m not grumpy. I just don’t see why you’re so eager for another partner.”

  I pulled him close, his cheek pressed against my shoulder. “You know why,” I told him softly. When I held him like this, it was like we were kids again, both aching for comfort and safety, and finding it in each other’s arms.

  Brom said nothing as he pulled away. He was probably the only person within these castle walls, with the exception of Master Gelloren, who knew how badly I craved battle. How badly I wanted to find the Wicked Queen and end this war with my magic.

  I didn’t know if it was possible for the magic of one Royal pair to take down the legendary Mother of the Forces, who’d somehow managed to elude our people for nearly five hundred years, but it was an ambition I’d had since I was young. Find her. Defeat her. Stop her from producing these monsters. Stop us from sending children off to war and forcing them to grow up too fast. But she had dark powers that were beyond imagination—powers that had kept her alive far longer than was natural.

  I’d once told Brom, when we were both very young, the reason behind my ambition. I’d never regretted telling him, but it was a personal secret that made me feel vulnerable.

  “I do know why.” His voice was so low I barely heard him. “You won’t get her approval, though. Even if you win. I had hoped you’d already realized that yourself, that maybe your reason had changed—”

  I looked back at him sharply. “Too far, my friend.”

  Brom glanced away. He knew he’d crossed the line in mentioning her. “My apologies, milady.”

  Outside the thick stone of the castle, the Myria bells rang. Two, three, four, five times. The Royals from the West had arrived.

  …

  At breakfast, I met with Tulia and Minnow. My two friends didn’t say a word to me about Kellian’s condition, which I appreciated. They knew how hard it was to lose a partner, especially Tulia. Tulia’s partner, before Edric, had stumbled into a nest of dark vipers on patrol, and the poison had been too strong for her Kiss to save him.

  After I was done pushing the shassa herb eggs and biscuits around my plate, Tulia, Minnow, and I headed for the Hall of Ancestors to greet the reinforcements. The corridors leading to the Hall of Ancestors were strung with garlands of gardenia, giving the air a sweet, intoxicating scent. I brushed my finger against a white petal and smiled appreciatively. It was a thoughtful gesture to have them here today. Gardenia was the name of Saevall’s infamous Queen Gardenia Myriana, who had defeated a gray-horned dragon with the power of her Kiss and saved Saevall’s Crown City. The servants must have spent all night stringing her namesake up to welcome the western Royals.

  Tulia nudged me. “Looks like everyone’s excited to see the new Saevallans,” she said as we followed a group of whispering and giggling younger princesses wearing lighter gray cloaks, which indicated their Royal-in-training status.

  “Well, it has been a long time since we’ve had visitors.” Minnow twirled a long piece of her blond hair. “Not to mention, we’re all eager to see…you know…that swordsman everyone’s talking about.”

  At the mention of my new potential partner, a trill of excitement went through me, and I remembered the rumors about him. There had to be some basis of truth to them, otherwise how would they have begun? He must be an excellent swordsman. At the same time, though, a smidge of guilt itched me. How long will this partner last? I twisted the fabric of my cloak in a futile attempt to wring out my guilt.

  Uncurling my fingers, I forced the insecurity down. Master Gelloren believed in me. So did the rest of the Council, otherwise they would not be giving me a new partner. That knowledge should be enough to ease my mind.

  We passed through the marble arches into the Hall of Ancestors, where Royals lined the sides, making three neat rows along the walls. I was perfectly happy to stay next to my two friends, but when Master Gelloren entered through the main doors with the other Master Mages, and his gaze flickered toward me, I knew he wanted me up front with him.

  For the most part I was treated as every other Royal in the Legion. I was given the same living quarters, ate the same food, took the same classes, risked my life the same as they did. Except for the times when my bloodline was played up. Mages, Council members, and Royals from other kingdoms were all impressed to see a direct descendant of the first true Royals, Queen Myriana and her partner, King Raed.

>   I gave a swift smile to Tulia and Minnow then broke from the row, following the Master Mages to the head of the Hall. I took my place behind and to the right of Master Gelloren just as the doors opened and distant trumpets sounded.

  The thump of boots and the clink of armor filled the Hall of Ancestors as our visitors strode forward. At the head of the Saevall Royals was a tall man with shiny armor and a long scarlet cloak, indicating his Commander rank. He looked to be maybe twenty-five or so, and had a scar down his cheek and startling light eyes.

  This must be him. It would make sense that a talented fighter would rank as Commander so young.

  Master Gelloren stepped forward, arms wide. “Welcome, Royals of Saevall, to the Crown City of Myria. I am Master Mage Gelloren. We are overwhelmed with gratitude at your presence.”

  Gelloren bowed deeply, and every Myrian Royal followed suit. Even as I bent low, I couldn’t take my eyes off the Commander, the legendary swordsman.

  How many battles had he seen? How many dark creatures had he slain? With the power of my Kiss, how many would he yet slay? Together, how vast would our power be?

  Surely this man was strong enough to deserve my Kiss. To bear the Mark of Myriana and accept the target on his back.

  The Commander stepped forward. “Master Gelloren, thank you for the warm welcome. We are eager to help your Royal Legion any way we can. We happily give our lives to protect the kingdoms from the Forces.” His voice was deep and thunderous. It sent bumps of awe crawling across my skin.

  Master Gelloren nodded. “Your aid could not come at a more desperate time. Recently, we lost one of our pure Royals, Prince Kellian from the House of Elhein, to an unbreakable curse. Now, Princess Ivy from the grand House of Myriana is without a suitable partner.”

  I stepped forward, and murmurs rippled through the group of western Royals. The Commander’s light eyes jumped to me then back to the Master Mage.

  “Princess Ivy is our most powerful princess, and her partner must have the strength of a hundred men. We have heard of the great swordsman from your kingdom, Prince Zachariah, and we are eager to see if their two awesome powers could be combined.”

  Something like amusement flittered across the Commander’s face. “Zach!” he roared.

  Strange. Why is he calling his own name? Wait…is he not Zachariah?

  There were hurried steps, and Saevallans moved to the side to make way for someone in the very back.

  “Oops! Stepped on a cloak—sorry, Fran. Oh, pardon me.”

  Master Gelloren and I raised our brows at each other.

  “Excuse me, Kendra—move, please.”

  Finally, a young man stepped out from behind the Commander. He was lean and tall-ish, but not impressively so. Under an old traveling cloak, his clothes appeared soft and well-worn. He had dark hair, nearly black, but brunette strands shone in the beams of sunlight. I took him to be maybe a couple years older than me. Everything about his appearance, from his drab clothes to his leather armor, said…common. Everything except the fine silver sword attached at his waist, the kind of sword only a Royal would own.

  He held up his hand in a small wave, and the kaleidoscope in his hazel eyes danced as if laughing at a joke only he found funny. “Pleased to meet you, I’m Zach.”

  Chapter

  Five

  Rumors and History

  His introduction was met with silence. I didn’t know what to say. This couldn’t possibly be right. This simple-looking commoner couldn’t be a prince. Such a clumsy fellow couldn’t be the skilled swordsman rumored to have taken down a troll’s lair by himself. Could he even unsheathe his sword without fumbling, let alone wield it?

  The young man faced us with a big grin. Then his gaze landed on me and, for a split second, his smile faltered. “So, what did you call me for?” He scratched the back of his neck. “My apologies, but I was distracted. Collin had told me this really funny joke. Would you like to hear it? A dwarf, goblin, and troll walk into a tavern and—”

  “Zach,” the Commander interrupted through gritted teeth, “we were discussing your possible partnership with Princess Ivy.”

  “Oh.” Zachariah blinked then glanced at me. “That’s happening now? Here?”

  Master Gelloren, whom I had never seen surprised, seemed to snap out of his astonishment, blinking a few times. “Prince Zachar—”

  “Zach.” Oh Holy Queen, he interrupted a Master Mage. “Just Zach.”

  Gelloren recovered and mustered a smile in return. “Of course. Zach,” he said as he turned back to me and held out his hand. “This is Her Royal Highness, Princess Ivy Myriana.”

  I took Gelloren’s hand and stepped up next to him, giving Zach another long look. Where were his “muscles for days”?

  Appearances could be deceiving, I supposed, determined not to lose hope. My own didn’t offer much regality, in popular opinion—too many freckles. And my hair, curly with pretty autumn shades, frizzed too easily.

  “Prince Zach.” I dipped my head as I offered the typical Legion princess curtsy, grabbing the hem of my dress with my right hand and crossing my left fist over my chest. “Thank you for journeying all this way.”

  “My pleasure.” Zach was smiling again when I returned my gaze, but this time the smile was much smaller, and somehow softer.

  Gelloren gave my shoulder a squeeze and addressed Zach. “If your skills prove worthy of Princess Ivy’s power, then you will be bound as Royal partners.”

  I could feel the pride in the Master’s gesture and words, despite all that had happened yesterday. I held my head a little higher.

  “So I’ve been told.” Zach frowned, glancing warily at his Commander. “I’m honored that you think so highly of me, but I—”

  Suddenly the Commander grabbed Zach’s collar, choking off his words, and jerked him backward. “Master Mage, we are weary from our journey. Perhaps we could rest and eat first, then discuss the partnership.”

  It was a reasonable request, but I’d hoped to get some kind of verbal agreement of our partnership, at the very least. If the interruption had surprised Gelloren, he didn’t let it show.

  “Yes, of course.” With a small wave of his hand, the trumpets sounded again.

  The voices within the Hall of Ancestors rang out as one: “Long Live the Royals! The Light against the Darkness!” Then Myria’s Royals trickled back into the adjoining corridors.

  I barely muttered the words along with them, my eyes still on Zach. He didn’t seem enthused about our partnership at all.

  Not that I expected princes to fall over themselves for me, but I’d anticipated receiving more than mild curiosity…or… Had he been disappointed? Disappointed as I had been?

  The idea that I could be dissatisfied in him, but he couldn’t be in me, struck me like a physical blow. Not only was that unfair, but also hypocritical and rude. I had to give him another chance—at least learn more about him before deciding how I felt.

  Gelloren turned back to the Saevallan Royals. “Princess Ivy will lead you to the feast.” He nodded to me and then left with the other Master Mages, robes swishing as they went.

  I held out my arm in the direction of the northwest corridor. “You’re in for a treat,” I said with a smile. “The strawberries in Myria are the best in all the land, and they’re in season.”

  Zach winked at me. “I love strawberries. Strawberry sugar cake, strawberry cordials—”

  “Return to your position.” The Commander pointed toward the back of his company.

  “Yes, sir, Lord Commander,” Zach called over his shoulder, still grinning as he headed to the back. The Saevallan Royals parted for him but none looked especially pleased to do so. From the rolls of their eyes, it seemed almost as if…they were embarrassed by him. But wasn’t he their champion? Their prized Swordsman Prince?

  “And tell Collin if he has the bad manners to run his lewd mouth during a formal reception,” the Commander barked, “then he can spend the next one shoveling horse—” He clamped his li
ps and turned back to me. “Pardon me, princess.”

  I laughed. “We’re all soldiers. I’m sure I’ve said far worse at one time or another. Now, this way please, Prince…”

  “Weldan. Prince Commander Weldan of the House of Zale,” he said as I led them out of the Hall of Ancestors. “I must say, it is an honor to meet one of your bloodline. A pure descendant of the Royal Founders.”

  “It is we who should be honored, Commander. Our numbers have been drastically decreasing. Your reinforcements mean everything and more to us.”

  “We are all on the same side, princess. There’s no need for thanks.”

  I smiled, liking Weldan more with every step, every word. “Yet you still have it.”

  He nodded, but his expression darkened. “I’m sorry to hear about your prince.”

  Kellian’s inert form after my failed Kiss flitted through my mind, and my smile vanished. The same image had kept me up almost all night last night, along with memories of Kellian. My fingers curled around my cloak, squeezing. “Yes, it…will be difficult to replace him.”

  Weldan sighed and shook his head. “I’ve heard of your capabilities, princess, and I believe it would be difficult to match anyone to your standards.”

  I opened my mouth to reply when a large crash sounded from behind us.

  Everyone looked back to see Zach sprawled out on the floor with an ancient suit of armor lying in pieces around him. A girl stood over him, her face flushed in anger.

  “Watch where you’re going, you—”

  “Kendra!” The Commander’s voice was sharp, and the girl quickly straightened.

  Zach half picked himself up onto his elbows. “No, go ahead. What were you going to say? Something about my dashing good looks?”

  Kendra rounded on him, but Weldan intervened again. “Zach, enough.”

  With a scowl, she strode over Zach, stepping on his back as she did so, pushing him to the floor.

  Zach let out a puff of air. “Now who’s not watching where they’re going?” he called after her.

  “Get up and pray that suit isn’t damaged,” Weldan snapped.