The Princess' Suitors

Prince Sebastian

In the morning, there was noise coming from the clearing. A calamitous racket, really. One that had awoken nearly everyone from their rest, including the princess, Winifred.

She threw back the silken covers of her bed and swung her legs gracefully over the side, springing to her feet, and she dashed over towards the window to see what was going on. She was too surprised by her abrupt awakening and partially subdued by the fog of sleep, to realise that she had come to the window in just her nightgown.

She peered out over the clearing to see if she could gather where the sound was coming from. Then, out of the corner of her eye, once she had adjusted to the waking light, she saw them. A small group of knights on horseback, led by one that sat on the back of a large dapple grey mare. He stood out mainly because of the bright, royal purple of his cape, the same colour that accented all of his men’s attire. He also had a shining golden crown atop his head.

She felt a fluttering in her tummy as she looked at the man on the dapple grey horse. She couldn’t see much detail from so high up, but even at their current distance, she could tell that he was handsome. He had hair like honey, soft but masculine features and he held himself with excellent form and posture.

They were being heckled by the other campers from other kingdoms that were also on the west side of the clearing. Some of the men in the camps were throwing rocks and threatening to start an outright fight down there.

Winifred grew worried as she watched them argue. Their hackles were raised and it looked as though the situation was escalating. She could see that the horses were growing agitated as well.

The man on his dapple grey horse, who she knew must be a prince by his attire, turned on his horse and motioned for his soldiers to follow him, ignoring their potential foes completely. As they turned she could see that the flagbearer carried the crest of Lowpine, one of the last werewolf kingdoms.

He gathered them at his sides and backed away from the crowds, making space but not turning their backs. Then, once they were far enough away, they finally turned and headed to the south side of the tower (the front), where Sir William and Francisco were camped out (though she would use the term ‘camped’ very lightly given one was simply leaning on a rock and the other was up a tree).

She smiled to herself. It seemed that all of her viable suitors were gathering together in the same area. From her place by the window, she could see them all quite well and she was glad to have them in her sights. This way, she would be able to keep track of them and keep an eye on them. It would also be easier for Damaris to make sure nothing bad happened to them because of the other camps.

She was, however, a bit concerned about the reception that the newcomers had been met with. They seemed to be much more hostile towards him, perhaps because of his royal status.

There had only been two royal suitors before him, and both had needed to be chased away for their extreme obsessions and entitlement. One had been the prince of a neighbouring kingdom that she hadn’t bothered to remember the name of. He had been snooty and self-absorbed, just like the widowed king who had approached the tower with a large group of knights, some of whom had also vied for her attention. Never had she known anyone to be so oblivious and uncaring of anything beyond the end of their own nose.

All in all, she did not have a great experience with members of royal families. They tended to believe that everything should be theirs without question or resistance, they felt that they deserved it just because of their titles and it was apparent that they thought this way, not just about objects or land, but also about human beings.

It was revolting and she refused to have anything to do with someone who behaved in such a way or held such vile beliefs. She hoped that this prince would be different from them. After all, as a royal herself, she knew first hand that not all those in positions of power were alike.

Winifred stood in the arch of the window, the wind blowing her long hair over her left shoulder.

Just as she was thinking to herself that things were awfully quiet considering that she was standing in full-view of essentially the entire camp, the prince noticed her standing there. He looked up and despite the distance, it felt as though he had locked eyes with her.

Fear struck her in that moment, the chill of it travelled from the top of her head all the way down to her feet and into the tips of her fingers. Every other time a man had laid eyes on her since the curse, it had driven them into a craze, or caused them to do horrible things in their attempts to get to her.

The prince, however, simply shot her a grin and lifted his hand to wave at her, cheerfully.

Relief and affection flooded her at that simple, innocent gesture. She waved back and his grin seemed to widen. He bowed to her from his seat atop his horse, flashed his grin once more and then dismounted the mare to assist his knights in setting up their tents.

Hope.

There was so much hope within her then, that it was almost overwhelming. Years of her curse, years of not knowing someone’s true intentions until they either turned on her or turned on their own companions. Now there were three, not one, but three potential suitors who were pure of heart, who were capable of setting her free from her curse.

“You should back away from the window, princess. It is not safe to stay out too long.” The voice of Damaris came from above.

“Damaris, you scared me.” Winifred gasped as she stepped back from the window.

“My apologies. I merely meant to alert you to the risk. I see that there is another that has caught your eye.” Damaris said.

Winifred flushed pink at that. “I felt a pull towards him, like I did for Francisco… he caused my heart to flutter when I saw him.” she admitted.

“Hmm… he does seem to be well behaved. He did not rise to the goading of the other campers and he is helping his knights with their tents. He is certainly the first royalty I have seen do so.” Said Damaris.

“He waved at me, Damaris, and he smiled so beautifully. It has been so long since someone smiled at me that way. It felt so special and so normal at the same time and then he turned away to help his comrades. His actions were not distorted by the curse.” Winifred sighed a little bit dreamily and her words were a tad breathless.

“When you respond to the others, would you like to write to him as well?” Damaris inquired, eyes surveying the clearing as they conversed.

“Of course, I must!” Winifred exclaimed. “I think it should go without saying. I will be writing responses today and I will need you to deliver them again, Damaris. I am once more trusting you with this task.”

“Of course, dear Winifred. You know that I will deliver them safely for you and bring you their responses promptly. I believe that you have been waiting for this long enough.”

“Thank you, Damaris… I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. You have been so kind and loyal to me all this time. Protecting me and helping me, beyond what is within the scope of your duties as my guard. You are my dearest friend.” Winifred said with sincerity.

“You are my dearest friend, too, Winifred. There is no princess out there more worthy of my time and protection. So, though you may not see it as within the scope of my duties as a guard, I feel that it is within the scope of my duties as a friend.” Damaris explained and there was a mutual comfort that settled between them, in knowing how much they cared for each other.

“Thank you, then, Damaris, for being my protector, my advocate, but most of all, for being my friend.” Said Winifred.

“You are most welcome, Winifred. Thank you for your companionship, your gentle wisdom and also for your friendship.” Damaris returned the sentiment.

“You are most welcome, Damaris.” Winifred smiled.

Winifred retreated inside after a while, opting to change into her day clothes and get a start on breakfast and go about her daily duties. She tended the garden, the greenhouse crops and took it upon herself to air out the bedding and do some spring cleaning in her room. She changed the sheets, dusted, did her laundry and once it was finished, she brewed herself some herbal tea and sat out in the sun, sipping at it while she read one of her favourite tomes on how to care for plants.

In a spur of the moment decision, she had dragged her small table and chair over to the window that she had left open. It was propped open by the inside wall with a small latch, so that the entire large arch was unobstructed by the glass. She sat and basked in the warm light as she read through her book.

Usually, she would feel too uncomfortable or afraid to sit in the window,where she would be in full view of the people in the camps below the tower. It had yielded terrible results on previous occasions, but she found that most of the fear had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt light.

She had her suitors below her now, she had options, people who didn’t want to take anything from her, people who would love her for who she was without demanding that she owed them anything. People who would never harm her for their own gain.

It imbued her with a certain amount of confidence and self-assurance. It was somewhat freeing and she was determined to thrive within the feeling for as long as she could.

Just knowing they were there amongst the others was such a profound comfort to her that she felt comfortable just sitting on her small front balcony, by the open window with a book.

For the first time since she had been locked away there.

She had not one, but three potential suitors. Damaris was always around to keep her safe as always and despite the constant danger around her because of the curse, she finally felt safe. Perhaps not completely, but more so than she had in years.

She enjoyed the soft breeze in her hair and making the flowing skirt of her dress flutter about her ankles. She enjoyed the sweet smell of spring blooming, pine wood and oak from the forest, the scent of the herbal tea, carried by the current of the air and the paper pages of the book in her hands.

It was a peaceful day, of equal parts productivity and rest. It was in perfect balance and she wished to herself that more days of her life could be like this one. It was not necessarily the content of the day but the feelings that accompanied it. Perhaps, when she had finally found her one true love out of her potential suitors, she would be able to live every day feeling as free as she did on that day.

As the afternoon crept onward, she placed her book upon the table, bookmarked for later and looked down over the camps once more.

Immediately, her eyes found the prince and his men, who had set up their tents rather efficiently and were splitting jobs between building a fire pit and tending their horses, some of them choosing to spar to pass the time and keep themselves alert.

She wondered how none of them seemed to be caught under the effects of her curse. Theyall seemed to be simply going about their duties with no care for her at all. It was refreshing to not have to deal with a suitor’s entourage drooling over her and fighting amongst themselves for the ability to court her. They were simply minding their own business and it was marvellous.

As she watched them go about their tasks, and observed the way that the prince took care of things, giving attention to all of his men in turn, making sure that everything was set up correctly with his own eyes. Every now and then he would pat one of them on the shoulder and flash that lovely smile.

She found herself reminiscing about the times when she would learn about the other kingdoms with her mother and father, who wanted her to be ready for the political side of things as Evamere’s future matriarch.

She realised, with a small start, that the prince of Lowpine was one of three brothers, Lucien, the oldest, Marcello, the middle child and Sebastian, the youngest of the siblings. They were known for being quite harsh and strategic when the time called for it, but respectful of freedoms and rights due to their inner wolves. She could appreciate that their lupine heritage was one of their greatest strengths as it honed their instincts and sense of duty to their people, their pack.

The oldest and middle sons had both seen more than thirty winters, which would lead her to believe that the prince in the camp below was the youngest son, Sebastian.

That evening, she started writing her letters in earnest, making sure to keep her tone lighthearted and optimistic as she was feeling.