Page 1 of The King’s Bodyguard (Catkin Trilogy #1)

Landis

I survived a bloody coup, a battle for the throne, and a five-year war. Now, I have to survive an arranged marriage.

“Your Highness,” Lord Berran’s calm voice broke into the chaotic muddle of my thoughts. “Surely you must have foreseen the inevitable steps that must be taken if we are to broker peace with Esteria.”

“The people of Esteria and Sumarene will be pleased, I’m sure.” I managed to force out the words as I processed the bind I suddenly found myself in. “You will excuse me for not sharing their joy.”

An awkward silence ensued. My gaze drifted around the room. Seated as I was on the throne of Sumarene, I was able to consider my subjects and advisers easily. One, in particular, stood out—my cousin, Lord Morne, the eternal thorn in my side.

From the top of his styled curly brown hair and finely shaved ears down to his sharp-tipped, manicured tail, my cousin was the very picture of snarky jubilation. There was something about the way he stroked his short mustache and goatee that set my teeth on edge.

He’s laughing at me , I seethed to myself. I was honestly doing my best to keep calm and pretend like Lord Berran’s words hadn’t hit home, but it was difficult. Usually, Lord Morne didn’t attend state meetings, but I supposed he couldn’t pass up the chance to watch me hear the bad news.

And it was bad news. After all, no young catkin would want to hear that his life of freedom was to be cut short.

Nineteen years of freedom come to an end.

I rubbed my forehead, suddenly feeling a headache coming on.

I never asked for this. I never wanted this.

Suddenly, I found myself in the center of it all—the youngest son of the illustrious Sumarene royal family.

The youngest and the last living direct member of the line.

Just thinking about it all over again threatened to bring me to tears. I blinked hard, took a deep breath, and focused on the conversation.

“I am certain our King is ready to do his duty by his people,” Lord Elthorne, the experienced leader of my army, was saying with his usual slow cadence.

The steady rumble of his gruff voice helped me calm down a little.

I shifted my hand down to stroke the fluffy tip of my golden tail.

Sensitive to my emotion, my tail in particular would betray how I truly felt.

All of my fur had bristled at the announcement.

Even if my face had somehow remained unmoved, my tail and ears had no doubt betrayed me.

Glancing back at Lord Morne’s face, I could see the smug satisfaction pasted there on his lips.

The way his dark, pig-like eyes surveyed me held undeniable happiness.

He was practically looking me over like I was some lamb prime for butchering.

No doubt he was waiting to see what I would do.

Lord Morne was ever ready to take my place after all.

My tail began to bristle again. I mutinously looked away.

“-and so, King Norran of Esteria wishes to cement a treaty,” Lord Elthorne continued on, “and it would behoove us to answer. In the positive, your Highness. That is my advice. His daughter is...” Here, the gruff general hesitated.

“Of age and comely to boot, I am sure. The entire line comes from solid Sunna stock.”

I struggled to repress another sigh. As if I cared about how pretty this princess was.

I wasn’t interested in marriage. Not right now anyways.

Some day, I could see myself making a family with the molly—or tom—who captured my heart.

But now it seemed as though I would have no choice about the timing or my partner.

“Have you seen the lady?” asked Lord Berrymay. As my Court’s treasurer, he was particularly invested in a well-arranged marriage.

“Alas, since the war, all communication with Esteria has been fraught with uncertainty. There was evidence of them, er, well, playing multiple sides, so to speak, leading up to the battle,” Lord Elthorne said.

“As we all knew,” my trusted confidante, Lord Gareth Wright, muttered.

“Indeed,” Lord Elthorne sighed.

This had been a common enough conversation at the war table over the past few months.

There have been voices of skepticism mingled with those of reason.

I well knew that Sumarene couldn’t afford to anger its northern neighbor, Esteria, especially since Esteria had not taken advantage of Sumarene’s weakness during the civil war.

Of course , I thought. We must form these alliances, but... but... Just thinking about it made me feel even more trapped.

“But they sided with us,” I said. “It would make me an ingrate to spurn their gestures of peace.”

“And marriage would further consolidate the throne,” Lord Berrymay added.

Ah. Yes. Marriage. That word. I shivered at the mental image.

Waiting in the ritual circle among the Standing Stones as my bride mounted the steps to take my hand.

I couldn’t help but groan at the thought.

Slumping back on the throne, I tried to cheer myself up.

Nothing helpful came to mind. There was nothing that I could say.

They are right , I realized. My heart sank within my chest as reality set in.

There was truly no way out. At the age of nineteen, I would be married to a girl just out of her majority.

We would be wed in the sight of the gods, and I would be dangling a babe within a year.

Just the thought of holding a baby in my arms had my heart racing.

I wasn’t ready for this! Gods, no—not yet.

I rose to my feet, mumbled something about making arrangements, and fled the room.

Cousin Morne didn’t have to say anything.

The bastard simply chuckled. His laughter spurred me on.

I whipped out of the room, feeling even more embarrassed and upset.

A red flush had risen to my cheeks. Clapping my hands to my face, I raced down the hall.

I blindly made my way down one set of stairs and a long gallery to the eastern ante-room which opened to an upper terrace garden surrounded by the graceful arches of a peristyle.

Someone called out after me. I ignored them.

Turning the corner, I ran into the hard wall of something unexpected.

My nose was suddenly buried in the soft folds of a tunic held back by a studded leather chest piece.

I found myself overwhelmed by the scent of horses, sun-drenched hay, and pine.

With that came memories—memories of a happier time.

For a moment, I wanted to hang on. I swayed forward. I wanted to bury my head in the soft folds of the tunic. My hands instinctively clung to firm biceps. The biceps of a soldier or a servant. The thought brought me to my senses.

Blushing hard, I stepped back and raised my chin haughtily. It was difficult to maintain my composure though. There was something comforting about the arms that seemed to embrace me. I was imagining it, of course. No one really cared about the King of Sumarene.

“Your Majesty?” A voice, faintly familiar, was asking me. “Are you unwell?”

I kept my eyes averted, barely managing to hold back my emotions.

The faint blur of a face hovered on the edges of my vision.

If I lingered, I would undoubtedly collapse into tears.

And I am a king, godsdammit. I clenched my teeth.

I cannot show weakness. Not here anyways. Not in front of my people.

I roughly pushed past him and made my way out to the private garden.

Here, I would be able to sit and think. It was this garden that had been my hiding place over the years.

When I was a young lad, mourning the passing of his mother, I had sat here by the fountain, imagining the running water was an ocean and my paper boat a frigate that would take me to a happier world.

I was the only son of the King’s third wife.

I wasn’t important. That was what I believed.

All of my life I had been expected to stand silently on the sidelines and simply watch as others trod the stage of fame and power.

In the space of a week and a massacre, I became the most important person in Sumarene.

With that came responsibility I had never been raised to carry.

I’m going to be getting married. Those words sunk like a stone in the center of a calm lake, casting greater ripples with each passing second.

With a thud, I sat down at the edge of the great fountain that fed the garden’s little rivers.

Four streams converged on the fountain, which rose up in the center half hidden between oak trees.

It was an old-fashioned fountain, carved with ancient catkin heroes.

Their tails were long, and the swords that clashed at the apex looked mighty.

In echo of the fountain, the pillars around the garden were graced with the figures of warriors from olden times—the Hunter Robyn, the Knight Sallynn, and the mythic Queen Hilda.

Surrounded by these heroes, I felt smaller than ever.

Still, this place felt the most comforting.

I drew up a knee, folded my arms around it, and leaned forward to rest my head.

My gaze traced the edge of stonework and the filigree of leaves and flowers that edged the base of the fountain’s centerpiece.

Yes. This was where I had hid all those years ago. The first week after my father’s death had been filled with busyness. Useless and powerless, I hid and cried here in the garden. As others rushed around to deal with the arrangement of the royal funeral, I looked on.

But right after, the period of mourning had been disrupted by feuding among my family. Our country was thrown into civil war. Within a few years, I had not only lost my mother and father, but all of my siblings as well.

I gritted my teeth and sighed to myself.

Now that I was beginning to calm down, I was becoming more aware of how I must have looked.

Running out of the room like that would undoubtedly add more fuel to my cousin’s arsenal against me.

Lord Morne said he had no interest in the throne, but sometimes I had to wonder.

Whenever he had the chance, he was ready on hand to shame me for my shortcomings.

My hands curled into a fist, and my tail stiffened at the thought.

I didn’t have to be reminded. I already knew.

I had known what was going to happen, and I had conveniently pushed it off.

I hadn’t wanted to face it until the nth hour.

Now, here I was—having a fit over a situation for which I should have been better prepared.

This is just more proof, Landis , I told myself.

You aren’t cut out to be the King of Sumarene.

You’ve been coasting along with the help of Lord Gareth, Ser Hugh, and Lord Elthorne.

Without them, you wouldn’t be here today.

After the battles they have fought for you, the least you can do is grit your teeth and bear it. Besides, she might not be so bad.

I wish...

“You can do it, Landis,” I whispered to myself. “Now isn’t the time to behave like an infant.”

I just wish...

Deep down, however, I could not deny the whisper of regret. Some part of me wished that I had one chance.

I just wish I had the chance to find love. Something real, something meaningful. A romance that would carry me through the rest of my life. I wondered. Would it only be a summertime fling? Perhaps, but surely it would be a chance for me to experience something I had chosen for myself.

Just admitting the thought made me blush.

It was honestly idiotic now that I had allowed myself to think about it.

As King of Sumarene, I was the keeper of my people.

I held power and was now responsible for the rebuilding of my nation.

There were factions to reunite, towns to restore, a racial divide between the Sunna and Munni catkin to bridge, and unrest on the southern border to resolve.

Falling in love was the last thing I ought to be thinking about.

I sighed, trying to resign myself to the thought of eking out love from an arranged marriage to a princess I had never met. I sat up and straightened my shoulders.

“Prince Landis?” A familiar voice broke into my thoughts.

I raised my head and half-turned. At the door I had just burst through, a tall, pale-skinned Munni tom stood.

His long, shoulder-length ebony hair was drifting out of a half-drawn-up bun.

Falling from broad shoulders, a deep green cloak hung covering a worn set of studded leather armor over a green-edged black tunic.

The tom’s legs were clothed in tight, dark leather breeches that ended with silver buckled dragonhide boots.

Suddenly aware that my mouth had fallen open a little at the sight, I stiffened and rose to my feet.

I glanced up at his face. There was dark stubble on his chin.

Above that, firmly set lips, a straight, well-chiseled nose, and brilliant green eyes.

Eyes the color of the ocean around the icebergs of the northern straits. Eyes that gazed at me in shock.

I frowned at his words. Prince Landis. It had been some time since someone had called me that. I cocked my head as I slowly approached him. There was indeed something familiar about him. It seemed like he knew me as well. A memory I had long forgotten arose in my mind.

“Cor-Corrin?” I gasped.