Prince Kieran-
Weddings were supposed to be joyous affairs.
That was the theory, anyway. The reality — at least in royal circles — was a parade of political smiling and stupid diplomacy arrangements. By the time Prince Kieran finished surviving his cousin's sister's wedding, he was certain no mortal sin could possibly justify the suffering he had endured.
He had been hugged by seven aunts, cornered by twelve marriage-hungry mothers ( who of course became very teary eyed knowing that his parents had already decided someone for him ) and asked about heirs at least fifteen times. The only good about the whole thing probably had been meeting Damien and the fact that his parents had allowed him to go alone without that snobbish Valeria. Not that they could actually make him do something he didn't want to, but they sure tried a lot.
So when the procession rode back toward the palace, he was in one word - exhausted.
The countryside rolled by — green plains turning to dusty village paths. He allowed his mind a moment's peace, eyes half-lidded, hands relaxed on the cushion. Birds were coming out and somewhere, a farmer shouted at a stubborn goat, trying to get it out of the way of the " royal procession ". A breeze carried the sweet scent of ripening figs, all the way to the prince's nose.
For a brief glorious moment, life felt almost livable.
Then he heard shouting.
Of course.
Because the universe saw him content and decided that was unacceptable.
A crowd was clogged in the village square overhead and he could hear indecisive whispers , only they were too loud to be ignored. Kieran's curiosity piqued despite himself.
What was happening?
Kieran's carriage slowed instinctively. His knight rode closer, shoulders tense.
"Your Highness, shall we avoid—"
"No," Kieran sighed. "This looks interesting."
He completely ignored his knight's expression who had suddenly closed his eyes as if praying..
Please be something ridiculous.A drunk goat dispute. A man who thinks his cow is cursed again. Anything harmless.
And let the prince think its stupid and ride away.
The fate almost answered his prayers as the prince had spotted something which made him immediately want to evaporate out of the place.
Lady Valeria .
Just as he was about to process this order, he saw something else. Something far more interesting.
A petite girl, so small that she could be fitted in one of those snakecharmer's boxes. Yet her eyes moved wildly in both directions and her body jerked under the pressure of the two burly men who were holding her.
It reminded him of a rabbit.
"I did not steal anything!" she shouted, voice cutting above the noisy whispers.. "Let me go!"
Howeve, no one seemed convinced.
"She took the Lady's tiara!"
"She's not from here — she's from that tribe!"
Ah !
That's why nobody had come to the lady's defense.
Kieran scanned her face. Panic flickered there — not the guilt of a thief, but the worried, nervous look which knew that she was in trouble.
And beneath the large range of his vision, he sensed it. A cloaked figure , not so far away, trying to slip away from the crowd.
His jaw tightened.
He hadn't planned to care today. Truly, he had not. But fate, it seemed, had a sense of humor.
Before he could intervene, a voice sweeter than syrup and twice as suffocating pierced the air.
"Oh, Kieran!"
He closed his eyes. Perhaps if he pretended he died suddenly, he could avoid this conversation.
But Lady Valeria had already swept toward him and she did not look like she was going to back away anytime soon.
Tsk. Tsk.
So annoying.
"My prince, what a dreadful sight!" she cried, clutching his armm"This wicked creature must be punished. Imagine — stealing jewelry from nobles! Barbaric!"
Kieran stared at her hand on his sleeve.
Politely.
Calmly.
Fantastically imagining setting them on fire.
Valeria seemed to realise and let go of it as quickly as she had grabbed it.
Meanwhile, the girl tried to wrench free again, but this time without any words. It was clear she was trying to get away before anyone else arrived.
He remembered that figure that he'd seen fleeing when he had just arrived.
So the real thief had already run.
And now this girl would be made to pay for it.
Tsk. Tsk.
How could he, as a prince, let that happen ?
Kieran walked forward with the kind of bored elegance that made people deeply nervous.
"Release her," he said.
Gasps. Outrage. A woman clutched her pearls like she had been asked to give her entire estate to the monarchy.
The knight in charge sputtered. "Your Highness — she is accused—"
"Yes," Kieran interrupted. "And I think she is not guilty ".
He looked lazily at the girl, who was desperately avoiding his eyes.A cut across her palm bled. She wasn't completely innocent, either.
Valeria stepped forward, eyes wide with disbelief. "Kieran, darling, she is from that tribe. You cannot trust—"
"I am aware of where she is from." His voice softened, but in a dangerous, winter-calm way. " But she does not look guilty to me ."
He turned slightly to the crowd.
"There are hundreds of people here. Why did you catch only her ?"
"My lord, she was running ."
"So, running is a crime these days ?".
"She was also eyeing Lady Valeria's jewels ", a man intervened.
"So is everybody else here . Why haven't you arrested them ? ".
Uneasy laughter. Shifting feet. Avoided eyes.
Cowards, the lot of them.
Someone tried again. "But she must have passed it to another! If we do not check—"
Kieran cut him off with a lazy flick of his hand. "I am deeply moved by your sudden passion for justice. Truly revolutionary." He smirked and turned to look at his knight.
"I need this man's tax payment sheets on my desk by evening ".
Silence.
He looked back at the girl.
"You look like someone who enjoys her limbs remaining attached," he murmured quietly to her. "Stop struggling."
Her eyes widened — not with fear, but indignation.
This brat.
She seemed to think that she had said it inside her mind .
Kieran gave a disbelieving laugh. She had the nerve to call him a brat ! Well then, wouldn't it be more interesting to let her struggle in this mess.
However, he turned to the guards. "Let her go."
Her hands were released. She stumbled, caught herself and made an stupid awkward bow to her rescuer.
Valeria sputtered, scandalized. "Kieran! How can you just release—"
He stretched lazily, as if the situation bored him. "I can have a thousand tiaras of the same design crafted before supper. "
"But—"
"And," he added softly, eyes sharp as polished steel, "I do not punish on the basis of appearance. That is what separates us from mobs, I believe."
Valeria fumed. The crowd muttered but no one dared argue further.
The girl met his gaze.
Not grateful.
Not relieved.
Just annoyed.
Then she spun on her heel and ran away as quickly as her little legs could carry.
A wild and untamed rabbit.
Kieran watched the girl disappear down the road.
Not properly dressed. Not trained in court grace. No noble family name. Yet, she was the first woman who had ever intrigued him.
Didn't even bother to thank him for his troubles.
And for the first time all day, something warm and amused tugged at his lips.
He mounted his horse again, completely ignoring Valeria who had extended her hand towards him, probably hoping that he would take her along on his horse.
The road stretched ahead.
And somewhere down it, a storm-eyed girl walked quicklynin the direction of the forest.
Kieran exhaled, half-laughing under his breath.
"Well," he murmured to himself, "at least I'm not bored anymore."