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As eager as I was to carry my bride to our bedchamber, I knew she deserved a celebration worthy of her. For though a commoner, she was far more. A descendant, no doubt, of some ancient royal line. It was the tale I would weave for the world. And one I had no reason to doubt could be true.

For how could a family produce a woman like her without having royal blood in its lineage? How? One so perfect, with the face of an angel and the gold-spun hair to go with it. And those eyes, those piercing, bewitching black eyes.Advertisement

How I loved her. My jewel. My princess.

Musicians played their lyres and flutes as we entered the castle hall. The cooks began lining tables with the foods they'd managed to prepare in short order, while the smells of still-roasting meats filled the hall and watered the mouths of all present. Ale and wine flowed, and I danced with my bride and saw her cheeks pink with joy, even though the rest of her countenance seemed to pale.

Holding her in my arms, I frowned at her. "Are you feeling worn out from all of this?"

"Only a little tired. But my love, I don't wish for this night to end."

"It must. All nights do. Be we need not end, 'Beta. Not ever."

She smiled and rested her head against me. "I know."

Before I could ask if that meant she had made up her mind, the doors burst open, and the entire room fell silent. The music and dancing stopped. The eating and talking stopped. Everyone went still. I turned to see my so-called father, the king, standing just inside the entryway, flanked by soldiers-in-arms.

He found my gaze across the crowed room, spoke softly to his men, and made his way to me. "It seems I've interrupted a celebration," he said. "And my morose son, with a smile on his face and a beautiful prize in his arms. Dare I hope -?"

"She is my wife, Father," I told him. "Elisabeta. Your father and your king."

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I felt her hand tremble as she dropped to her knees before the king, lowering her head.

"Rise, child. Rise," the king said. He bent, and taking her shoulders, helped her to stand. "You are a princess, and far too special and beautiful to bow before an old man." Smiling, he kissed her cheeks, then turned to face me, still holding 'Beta's hands. "So sudden?"

"I had only to gaze upon her once to know she was the one," I said, uncustomarily sentimental. "I could not wait, not even for you."

"I would not have had you delay. Truly, you've claimed a rare treasure, my son. I only wish I didn't have to spoil your celebration with dire news."

I frowned. "You went on a secret journey - and took with you soldiers, I see," I said, nodding toward the soldiers who remained near the door. "Soldiers who don't seem eager to join in tonight's revelry."

The king grabbed a passing servant. "Tell my men they may eat, but not drink any wine or ale. And remind them to remain alert," he commanded.

This alarmed me more. "What is it, my king?"

"I left to verify rumors of enemy troops amassing at our northern borders. Saw no reason to disturb you with what was, then, just gossip. But I found it to be true. We are being invaded, my son. We are...at war." pqdm.com