For Love

An excerpt from my third novel The Beasts of the Varclave Forest. It's Princess Darcy's first chapter. I apologize for errors I didn't have the chance to edit it.

Princess Darcy had always been envious of her elder sister, not that she would ever confess that. They'd been born two years apart, and had bickered frequently throughout their entire childhoods. It was partly due to their drastic personality differences. Princess Loreena was both adventurous and studious. She'd gotten along well with their paternal grandfather, Prince Rafael, because like him she craved the outdoors and was fascinated by nature. She despised fancy balls and gowns and being waited on. She'd rather wallow in the mud like a swine than be decked out in a flowing gown with a diamond tiara that weighed nearly as much as she did crowning her head.
    Princess Darcy, in contrast, was the more typical princess. She possessed basic survival skills; she knew how to hunt and fish, how to find shelter and build a fire. She could easily defend herself from attack or unwanted male advances. Her grandfather had instilled these things in her, believing them important; essential even. She had hated every second of sword training and the numerous camping trips they'd taken. She was not made to reside in the mountains or the wilderness where Prince Rafael had grown. She was accustomed to the royal treatment; to having her meals brought to her, to having her bed made and her clothes cleaned, pressed, and put away neatly in her drawers. She expected to wake up in the morning and find that days' outfit already hanging out for her to put on. She never had to bathe in a stream, as with the ring of a bell a steaming hot bath would be drawn for her. She never had to use self-defense, because wherever she went a guard accompanied her.
    Princess Darcy's life was marvelous, if a bit predictable; but that's how she preferred it. She wished it would never change. She'd been born to be a princess, and one day a queen. Not a queen regnant like her grandmother was and her elder sister someday would be, but a consort; the wife of a wealthy and powerful king. Her aspirations in life were rather shallow; to fall madly in love, wed, and birth children. She would sit beside her royal husband on his throne in her decident gowns and dripping in jewels. She would smile and wave to the commoners, knowing they both loved and resented her.
    The younger Princess resented the elder Princess mainly due to her immense beauty, which Princess Darcy coveted. Princess Loreena had their father's light brown skin, a few shades lighter than his mother's. She had his long dark tresses that had a slight curl to them. She had their mother's womanly curves and ample breasts, and her height as well. She had Prince Rafael's eyes, which was strange. They were a dark, soulful, almost-black-brown. Princess Darcy noticed how often their grandmother looked into those eyes these days; more so than ever before. She was her husband in them, Princess Darcy knew.
    Princess Loreena did not give mind ot her physical appearance. She groomed herself well enough but she wasn't concerned with impressing anyone. She carried herself with both grace and confidence.
    Princess Darcy, meanwhile, alternated between said confidence and massive insecurities. She was short and thin with a flat chest. While Princess Loreena had their father's square jaw, she had been blessed with their mother, Princess Violetta's heart shaped face. Her skin was slightly darker than her sister's, and her eyes were the same pale green as their parents. She was beautiful, she was aware, but men didn't drool over her the way they did her sister.
    For the past ten months, the Princess had been corresponding with Crown Prince Victor Rahm, the son of her father's ally in the Prince's War, King Darkohr, for whom the Princess had been named.
    The vast Delmar sea seperated the two, and letters had to travel by pigeon, which meant it would take weeks to receive responses. The young Prince was nearing seventeen years of age, which made him almost four years older than the Princess. Both were smitten with each other, and in his last letter Prince Victor had expressed his burning desire to meet the Princess in person.
    Prince Victor was everything Princess Darcy had dreamed of in a husband; he was tall, dark, and handsome. His mother, Queen Takara, was not known for her beauty, but if the rumors could be believed the Prince, thank the heavens, looked nothing like her, but rather like his father. From their correspondences, the Princess deduced that he was well mannered and well versed.
    The Princess's father had been pleased with the budding relationship between his daughter and hsi ally and friend, but Queen Bellamine had not shared in those sentiments. Rasheemi was too far away, she'd argued. She refused to allow the Princess to journey there, even though King Darkohr had offered for her to stay at the castle until she came of wedding age. Nothing was set in stone, but both the Prince and Princess's fathers agreed it would be a good opportunity for the two to become acquainted with one another and decide if marriage was in their future. He vowed to treat the Princess as family; to take care of and tend to her. The Queen would have none of it.
    Princess Darcy knew Prince Victor was her best chance at living the life she craved; the one she'd dreamed about from the time she was a small child, and her grandmother had set out ot ruin it. It hardly mattered whether or not she had her grandmother's approval, however, She was determined to meet Prince Victor so that he may fall madly in love with her and ask her to marry him and be his wife and queen.
    When queen Bellamine had been fifteen and had perferred Prince Rafael, then her personal servant, over the foreign crown prince her father had chosen from her, she'd feld her home kingdom and come to Alcwyn. When Queen Bellamine had refused Prince Flint's request to go to war against Cwenburh and the Tyrant King, he'd enlisted the help of Captain Carver and sailed away in the dark of night. The Noors were a  determined family who took what they wanted.
    The Princess intended to do just that. Kaleo Carver's ship was to depart in three days time, and he was headed towards Rasheemi. In addition to slaying the mermaids, his ship also transported and traded spices between Alcwyn and Rasheemi. She knew that she needed to be on that ship, the question was how she could go about it.
    She devised a plan in her mind. She wasn't devious and she wasn't one for daring acts, but she was determined. On the night the ship would board and raise anchor she packed a small sack which she strapped to her back. She pushed open the windows of her bedchamber and heaved herself up over the edge. There were nooks and crannies in the castle's stone walls which she could dig her hands and feet into for support as she slowly scaled the side. She refused to look down. She broke into a cold sweat. For the first time in her if she was grateful for all of the tricks her grandfather had taught her.
    Once, her foot slipped, unable to find a firm hold, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream as she lost her grip and plummeted. She sent out a prayer and blew out a shaken breath when her dress was caught on a sharp metal pole that protruded from the side of the castle. She stretched up her hand and grabbed a hold of it. She dangled for a moment as she re-situated herself. She risked a glance downward and laughed quietly when she saw her feet almost brushed the grass beneath her. She released her hold on the poll and dropped to the ground with a grunt. She landed on her feet, crouched down.
    She stood and inspected her dress. There was a massive tear that as seamstress could likely repair, but the Princess didn't have the time for that, nor a viable explanation for how it had become torn in the first place. The slit ran all the way up to her tight, exposing her delicate skin tot he frosty night air. She sighed. She shouldn't have worn one of her most favorite dresses to escape. At least it was dark, she reassured herself. No one would see her.
    She crept thorough the courtyard until she came to the tall stone wall that surronded the property. she recalled what her grandparents had done the night they'd escaped from her grandmother's home kingdom of Iccona. Following their example, she found a large rock which she attempted to pick up. She lifted with all her might and felt the muscles in her back spasm as she did. With a grunt she released the rock and panted. It was far heavier than it appeared.
    She decided she would have to roll it, and that's just what she did. It took a lot of time she didn't have to spare, and much effort, but finally she had it pushed up against the wall. She stepped up onto it and grinned, pleased with herself, as she hoisted herself up. she swung her legs over the other side, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to fall. She hit the ground hard on her bottom and emitted another pained grunt. She stood slowly and brushed herself off.
    She made her way to the harbor. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed them vicorously to try and keep warm. It was the start of autumn, and already the air was chilled; especially after dark. The princess had never been out alone so late before, and she felt extremely paranoid. Every alleyway she passed she would pause or a moment and glance down it. She wished fervently she'd thought to bring a lantern to light her path. She saw no other signs of human life except for a few flickering candles in house windows, but every time a dog barked or a cat hissed she nearly leap out of her own skin. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed.
    Finally she reached the harbor. It wasn't difficult to determine which ship was Kaleo's. It was the only one in the long line of them that had activity buzzing around it at this hour. The men were loading spices and other supplies onto it. even if it had been vacant, though, the Princess would have known by the name painted onto the side of the vessel; S.S. Annalise, named for his late wife whom Princess Darcy had only seen in passing at the school. She was beautiful, the Princess recalled, and kind.
    Princess Darcy moved silently towards the ship like a feral cat on the prowl. She ducked behind buildings or nearby objects large enough to conceal her whenever someone happened to glance in her direction. Her eyes carefully scanned the crowd until they landed on a man who was about her size in both body and height.
    She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and moved towards the man ever so slowly. He stood off to the side, by himself, examining the contents of a large, wooden barrel.
    The Princess snuck up behind him. She whipped out her knife from the sewn on compartment of her dress and held it against his throat with one hand while her other clamped itself over his mouth.
    "Make a sound and you die." She hissed lowly in his ear. She wouldn't truly kill him; she didn't have it in her, but he didn't need to know that.
    She led them back into the shadows, into a darkened alleyway, where she removed the blade from his throat. "Strip off your clothes and give them to me." She instructed him in a threatening whisper.
    The crewman did not question her. He swiftly removed his clothes and handed them to the Princess, who just as rapidly undressed and redressed. Again she thanked the darkness. Not even the moon shone bright tonight. She shuddered at the thought of the crewman seeing her body, or her seeing his.
    The clothes fit loosely, but they didn't hang too much on her and she hoped none of the other crewmen would notice. For once she was grateful to have such a flat chest. She tucked her hair up under her cap. She should have cut it, but her vanity had refused to even entertain the idea.
    "I do, sincerely, apologize." She told the crewman.
    "Is that you, Princess Darcy?" He responded, his voice laden with shock.
    Princess Darcy returned the knife's blade to his throat, and he gasped at the feel of the cold, deadly metal.
    "You will not breathe a word of this to anyone." She hissed menacingly.
    "I won't, I swear." The crewman choked. His voice was panic stricken.
    Princess Darcy felt a warm drop of liquid run down the back of her hand, and she realized to her horror that it was the crewman's blood. She removed the blade.
    "Is the cut deep?" She murmured in concern. She hadn't meant to break the skin.
    "No." The crewman reassured her. His voice shook. "You barely even nicked me."
    "Good." Princess Darcy sighed in relief. "What's your name?" She asked him. It was essential she know who she was posing as.
    "Morgan Seamus, but they call me Seamus." He muttered. He massaged his throat with his hand. He could still feel the sharp edge of the knife pressed up against it, a phantom sensation.    
    "You won't fool anyone." He cautioned her. "Not for long, anyhow."
    "I'm aware." Princess Darcy acknowledged. "But I don't need to fool them forever, just until we're far enough away from the mainland." She murmured in reply.
    "Why?" Seamus demanded.
    "For love." Princess Darcy answered simply. "Now, run along home, but remember, don't speak of our encounter to anyone."
    Seamus nodded. "I won't." He reiterated. He hesitated for a moment, as though expecting some sort of trap; that she was toying with him, and had no real intention of releasing him. When she made no move to prevent his escape, he bolted out of the alleyway, streaking naked down the streets of Alcwyn.    
    Princess Darcy frowned as she watched him disappear. She had intimidated...frightened him....She'd made him fear for his safety...For his life. The effect she could have stunned her.She had even scared herself.
    She stuffed her ruined dress into her sack and stuck her knife back into her pocket. She stood and hurried back towards the ship. they were nearly done loading and most of the men had already boarded.
    "there you are, Seamus." The deep voice of Kaleo Carver boomed from a few feet to Princess Darcy's left. She jumped and emitted a high pitched squeak of surprise. Her nerves were frayed. She took a deep breath to calm herself. She couldn't give herself away already.
    Kaleo was only twenty two but he was an intimating man. He was tall and high muscular. His skin was pale and his facial features were sharp. His bright blue eyes were penetrating. His long hair was oddly blonde; both his parents had long dark hair like most people from his native kingdom of Corosonia did. There had been rumored following his birth that Kaia had engaged in an affair and that Kevlin wasn't his blood father, but Kevlin's mother's family had not hailed from Corosonia, but rather were immigrants, and many of them had been fair haired.
    Kaleo had high arching eyebrows that made his every facial expression appear exaggerated. He glared at Princess Darcy and crossed his thick arms over his chest. He tapped his foot impatiently. "Where were you?" He thundered.
    "I...I had to take a leak, sir." She managed. She worked to lower her voice.
    Kaleo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. His eyes roamed her entire body, and she froze, her breath catching as she waited for him to expose her.
    But then he shook his head and sighed. "Just get on the damn ship." He muttered and he strode off towards the S.S. Annalise.
    Princess Darcy blew out a relieved breath. She was safe and her identity undiscovered....For the time being. How long she could keep up her facade, she wasn't certain. She walked towards the ship. Her stomach was clenched. It felt as though she'd swallowed a stone and it had settled there. As she bored the ship, she kept her gaze cast downward. She joined the other crewmen at the edge of the ship and gripped the wood tightly in her hands. They lifted the anchor and pulled away from the harbor. The crewmen all began to cheer.
    The Princess stood and stared as the only home she'd ever known slowly grew smaller and small on the horizon until it vanished entirely from sight. She felt tears swarm her eyes but she swallowed hard and forced them to retreat. She could not cry, not even as the faces of her parents, sister, and grandparents flashed before her.
    "For love." She repeated to herself in a whisper. She was departing for a chance at discovering true love, yet she couldn't help but wonder if that was exactly what she was leaving behind.