Page 24
Story: His Forbidden Princess
I take her hand again, leading her toward the forest, toward freedom, toward whatever future we can carve for ourselves beyond the reach of kings and duties.
My hands are numb from the night chill, but I feel a warmth in my chest, an uncomfortable heat that I recognize as hope—fragile, dangerous, but undeniably real.
nine
. . .
Lirien
Freedom tasteslike pine-scented air and sounds like thundering hoofbeats. I can't stop grinning as we ride hard through the forest, Dain just ahead of me, leading the way through moonlit paths. My muscles burn from hours in the saddle—princesses don't often ride at breakneck speed through wilderness—but the pain is exhilarating rather than unwelcome. For the first time in my life, I'm not running away from something, but toward something. Toward a future of my own choosing. Toward him.
The eastern sky shows the first hint of pale gray—dawn approaching. We've been riding since midnight, stopping only briefly to rest the horses and check our bearings. Dain promised we'd reach the border by morning, and from the increasing urgency in his commands, I sense we're close.
He reins in suddenly, raising a hand for me to do the same. Our horses pant beneath us, steam rising from their flanks in the cool pre-dawn air. I pull alongside him, following his gaze to thevalley below where a river gleams like liquid silver in the fading moonlight.
"The Veridian," he says, voice low. "Once we cross, we're outside the kingdom's jurisdiction. Half a mile more."
The hope in his words makes my heart soar. We've nearly made it. In mere minutes, we'll be beyond my father's reach, beyond the betrothal, beyond the suffocating weight of royal obligation.
"Then what are we waiting for?" I nudge my horse forward, eager to claim our freedom.
His hand shoots out, grabbing my reins. "Wait." His voice has changed, tension threading through it. "Listen."
I still, straining my ears. At first, I hear nothing beyond the usual forest sounds—wind through branches, distant birdsong, the soft nickering of our tired mounts. Then it comes to me—the faint but unmistakable rhythm of hoofbeats. Multiple horses, moving fast, coming our way.
"Palace guard?" I whisper, fear clutching at my throat.
Dain's expression hardens. "Yes. They've found our trail sooner than I expected." He scans the terrain rapidly, the soldier in him calculating odds and options. "We make for the river. If we can cross before they catch us, we still have a chance."
He wheels his horse around, spurring it toward a narrow trail that descends steeply through the trees. I follow close behind, ducking low branches, heart hammering in my chest. The pursuing hoofbeats grow louder with each passing minute—they're gaining on us.
My horse stumbles on the uneven ground, nearly sending me over its head. Dain glances back, concern flashing across his face.
"Stay close!" he calls over his shoulder. "The trail widens ahead."
We emerge from the densest part of the forest into a clearing that slopes gently toward the riverbank. The water flows swift and dark, perhaps twenty yards across. Freedom waits on the other side, tantalizingly close.
Dain pulls up sharply, cursing under his breath. I follow his gaze and my heart plummets.
Royal guards—four of them on horseback, wearing the distinctive blue and silver of the palace—block our path to the river. They must have split their forces, circling ahead while others pursued us from behind. A perfect trap.
"Princess Lirien." The lead guard inclines his head respectfully, as if this were a chance meeting in the palace corridors rather than a desperate pursuit through the wilderness. "Your father commands your immediate return."
Dain shifts his horse slightly, positioning himself between me and the guards. I recognize them all—men he's trained with, fought beside, commanded. Men who now look at him with a mixture of pity and condemnation.
"The princess is not returning to the palace," Dain says, his voice deceptively calm. "Lower your weapons and stand aside."
The lead guard—Sergeant Thorne, I recall—sighs heavily. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Vorex. The king is willing to be merciful if she returns unharmed."
"And what of Captain Vorex?" I demand, moving my horse forward until I'm beside Dain rather than behind him. "What mercy does my father offer him?"
Thorne's hesitation tells me everything. There will be no mercy for Dain. The man who kidnapped the crown princess—never mind that I went willingly—will face execution.
"That's what I thought." I straighten in my saddle, summoning every ounce of royal authority I possess. "I order you to stand down, Sergeant. I am not being abducted. I am choosing to leave."
"I'm sorry, Your Highness." Genuine regret colors his tone. "But our orders come from the king himself. We cannot disobey."
Behind us, the sound of approaching horses grows louder. The rest of the pursuers will be upon us within minutes, cutting off our last escape route.
My hands are numb from the night chill, but I feel a warmth in my chest, an uncomfortable heat that I recognize as hope—fragile, dangerous, but undeniably real.
nine
. . .
Lirien
Freedom tasteslike pine-scented air and sounds like thundering hoofbeats. I can't stop grinning as we ride hard through the forest, Dain just ahead of me, leading the way through moonlit paths. My muscles burn from hours in the saddle—princesses don't often ride at breakneck speed through wilderness—but the pain is exhilarating rather than unwelcome. For the first time in my life, I'm not running away from something, but toward something. Toward a future of my own choosing. Toward him.
The eastern sky shows the first hint of pale gray—dawn approaching. We've been riding since midnight, stopping only briefly to rest the horses and check our bearings. Dain promised we'd reach the border by morning, and from the increasing urgency in his commands, I sense we're close.
He reins in suddenly, raising a hand for me to do the same. Our horses pant beneath us, steam rising from their flanks in the cool pre-dawn air. I pull alongside him, following his gaze to thevalley below where a river gleams like liquid silver in the fading moonlight.
"The Veridian," he says, voice low. "Once we cross, we're outside the kingdom's jurisdiction. Half a mile more."
The hope in his words makes my heart soar. We've nearly made it. In mere minutes, we'll be beyond my father's reach, beyond the betrothal, beyond the suffocating weight of royal obligation.
"Then what are we waiting for?" I nudge my horse forward, eager to claim our freedom.
His hand shoots out, grabbing my reins. "Wait." His voice has changed, tension threading through it. "Listen."
I still, straining my ears. At first, I hear nothing beyond the usual forest sounds—wind through branches, distant birdsong, the soft nickering of our tired mounts. Then it comes to me—the faint but unmistakable rhythm of hoofbeats. Multiple horses, moving fast, coming our way.
"Palace guard?" I whisper, fear clutching at my throat.
Dain's expression hardens. "Yes. They've found our trail sooner than I expected." He scans the terrain rapidly, the soldier in him calculating odds and options. "We make for the river. If we can cross before they catch us, we still have a chance."
He wheels his horse around, spurring it toward a narrow trail that descends steeply through the trees. I follow close behind, ducking low branches, heart hammering in my chest. The pursuing hoofbeats grow louder with each passing minute—they're gaining on us.
My horse stumbles on the uneven ground, nearly sending me over its head. Dain glances back, concern flashing across his face.
"Stay close!" he calls over his shoulder. "The trail widens ahead."
We emerge from the densest part of the forest into a clearing that slopes gently toward the riverbank. The water flows swift and dark, perhaps twenty yards across. Freedom waits on the other side, tantalizingly close.
Dain pulls up sharply, cursing under his breath. I follow his gaze and my heart plummets.
Royal guards—four of them on horseback, wearing the distinctive blue and silver of the palace—block our path to the river. They must have split their forces, circling ahead while others pursued us from behind. A perfect trap.
"Princess Lirien." The lead guard inclines his head respectfully, as if this were a chance meeting in the palace corridors rather than a desperate pursuit through the wilderness. "Your father commands your immediate return."
Dain shifts his horse slightly, positioning himself between me and the guards. I recognize them all—men he's trained with, fought beside, commanded. Men who now look at him with a mixture of pity and condemnation.
"The princess is not returning to the palace," Dain says, his voice deceptively calm. "Lower your weapons and stand aside."
The lead guard—Sergeant Thorne, I recall—sighs heavily. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Vorex. The king is willing to be merciful if she returns unharmed."
"And what of Captain Vorex?" I demand, moving my horse forward until I'm beside Dain rather than behind him. "What mercy does my father offer him?"
Thorne's hesitation tells me everything. There will be no mercy for Dain. The man who kidnapped the crown princess—never mind that I went willingly—will face execution.
"That's what I thought." I straighten in my saddle, summoning every ounce of royal authority I possess. "I order you to stand down, Sergeant. I am not being abducted. I am choosing to leave."
"I'm sorry, Your Highness." Genuine regret colors his tone. "But our orders come from the king himself. We cannot disobey."
Behind us, the sound of approaching horses grows louder. The rest of the pursuers will be upon us within minutes, cutting off our last escape route.