Free His Princess (A Royal Romance) by Abigail Graham Page B

that it looks like a storybook place, some idyllic land from a fairy tale. The castle may be grim but the rest of the country is hardly Mordor. Beyond the limits of the city, it’s so green .The fields shimmer in the sunlight, banded with silver from the river that runs north to south and irrigation channels that slice through the green.
    I lean on the railing and prop my chin on my hands. If somebody saw me here they’d think I was a princess from a cheesy movie. I feel so goofy in this dress. If it weren’t for the stupid sleeves it would look nice on me, though. I’m pretty slim, more so now that I’ve been living on those MREs.
    Whoever called them Meals, Ready to Eat is a damned liar.
    My stomach is rumbling, oddly enough. I should have eaten the pomegranate. Bored, I lean over the edge and stare down the mountain slope.
    It’s not as sheer as I thought. If I could get down from the balcony without falling…
    Right, Penny. You’re going to climb down a steep mountain slope without any gear, in a dress, and make it all the way down without falling. I lean out a little farther and peer down. If I did fall, it would be a long drop followed by a quick stop. I flinch as the image of my body bursting apart as it hits the ground pushes me back from the ledge. A sudden gust yanks at my sleeves and I rub my shoulders.
    There’s a knock at the door, but it’s an announcement, not a request for permission. It swings open.
    He walks into my bedroom.
    The prince stops. He’s exchanged the black trousers he wore this morning for doe-brown riding pants and high boots, and holds a riding crop tucked under his arm. Standing still, he stares at me with his head cocked to the side as I lean on the railing and look back at him. A soft smile forms on his lips before he jerks upright, as if shaking himself back to reality.
    I was staring, too, I realize.
    Oh God, this is corny. No, not happening. Stop forgetting that he cut a guy’s head off last night, Penny. In front of you.
    “You did not change?”
    “What’s wrong with this?”
    “I gave you many dresses. Why wear only one?”
    “I’d rather wear shorts.”
    “I won’t have you dress like a harlot. Come, it’s time for lunch and hawking.”
    “Um, what is hawking, exactly?”
    He blinks. “Falconry?”
    “You mean hunting with a bird?”
    “Just so. Come.”
    “Uh,” I say.
    Again, it’s not a request, and we’re being watched. There are servants and guards in the hall. That means I’d better be on my best behavior. Swallowing hard, I lift my skirts and step down into the room.
    The prince offers me an arm, crooking out his elbow. I glance at the people outside and then at him. Then I slip my arm through his, and walk. At least he takes the weight off my bad foot.
    “Your leg pains you,” he says quietly.
    “Yeah. It hurts.”
    “Much?”
    “No, it’ll get better. Not the first time I twisted my ankle.”
    “When was the first time.”
    I blink a few times. “What?”
    “Tell me the story.”
    “I don’t know, I was a kid. I was out running with my brother and…”
    My breath catches.
    “Sorry, I was out with my brother and we were running. We’d just gotten a puppy, a little beagle, and he got off the leash and ran from us. He wasn’t trying to get away, he just wanted to play. I could run faster so I went after him and I left the sidewalk, heading for this little brook.”
    “Go on.”
    “I chased him down a slope and got my foot wedged between two rocks and lost my balance. I thought I broke my ankle, but it was just a sprain. It hurt at the time, though. I don’t think I’ve ever screamed so loud. I screamed my little lungs out.”
    “How old?”
    “Nine.”
    “Your brother?”
    “He was six then.”
    “You are close.”
    “We were,” I let slip.
    He stops in his tracks.
    “Were? What happened between you?”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “I could command it.”
    I look up at him.
    “If you wouldn’t cut my hand