Free Royal Outlaw: (Royal Outlaw, Book 1) by Kayla Hudson Page A

been well over a hundred years since anyone of noble blood had been a part of it. Yet, despite the Versati Corps’ fall from former glory, common boys and men were still eager to join because it provided them with a certain status, low as it was, and opened up many opportunities for them, plus the privilege to learn their letters and arithmetic, which was normally only reserved for the wealthy.
    Mariel retrieved Aracklin from the ground. She wiped the blood off the sword and slid it home into its scabbard.
    With the help of reinforcements the last ogre fell. Darren spun around as soon as it was down and hurried over to his daughter. His brown eyes were filled with concern and Mariel did not blame him. She must look a mess covered in dirt, sweat, and blood. She could feel the tender bruising growing around her eyes and her nose was tweaked in an unnatural position with a thin stream of blood trickling out. Sweat and the ogre-leader’s blood matted her tangled hair to her head. She braced herself for the coming pain and gritted her teeth while she carefully shifted her broken nose back into its normal position so it would heal correctly.
    “I’m fine,” she reassured her papa, as Iyela nipped at her sleeve. “Just a few scrapes and bruises, nothing life threatening.”
    Her papa did not get the opportunity to reply, for the burly man Mariel assumed to be a Versati Corps instructor stared at him in shock and surprise. “ Sergeant Haroldsson? ”
    Darren stiffened and turned to face their rescuers.
    “In the name of Valmir,” the man continued, “It is you . . . But it’s Brightsword now, isn’t it?” A huge smile lit up the instructor’s face and the trainees exchanged wide-eyed glances.
    “Hello, Art. It’s been a while,” Darren said in a perfectly calm voice, as though they were not standing on a forest trail surrounded by the bodies of nine dead ogres and a horse.
    “I’ll say! Eleven years! You were one of the best and brightest in the Versati Corps. Became sergeant after only three years of service. And the way you wielded a blade,” Art whistled in appreciation, “incredible. You loved being part of our corps, most loyal man I’ve ever seen . . . or at least I thought, then one day you threw it all away, killed four of the king’s personal guards, knocked out his archmagician, and threatened the king. You fled the palace and the capital, only to become the leader of an underground insurgency and the most dangerous man in all of Natric. Never made any sense to me, why you gave up everything you’d built for yourself and turned from loyal soldier to dangerous traitor.”
    Mariel watched her papa’s expression, which revealed no emotion, just the way he had been taught. She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as guilt flooded in. Darren had surrendered everything for her, and she was throwing it back in his face as she agreed to become princess for the very people who had left her to die.
    “I finally saw the king for what he was: corrupted, self-centered, and too concerned about how people viewed him,” Darren told Art. “I didn’t want to serve a man like that.”
    “Still doesn’t make sense to me.”
    “I don’t expect it to.”
    One of the trainees spoke up, “But now you’re being fully pardoned! You’ve even been given an offer to come back to the Versati Corps.”
    “Which I won’t accept. But the capital is where my daughter and I are headed now.”
    “That’s a girl?” A large trainee blurted out in astonishment.
    Mariel smiled brightly. “Last I checked I was.”
    “Manners, boy,” Art growled at the solid trainee. “You may have been born with common blood, but if you ever want to become a member of the Versati Corps, you have to forget it.”
    “Sorry, sir.”
    Art turned back to Mariel and Darren. “We can travel together if you like. We left our horses about a quarter mile up the trail and were in the middle of a lesson in tracking when we heard the