The High Prince's Captive

The High Prince's Captive Elizabeth S. Trafalgar V&A Press Copyright This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright 2023 Elizabeth S. Trafalgar All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. First printing edition June 2023. Cover art by Beautiful Book Covers by Ivy Published by V&A Press Published by V&A Press Dedication T o Scarlett Contents 1. Chapter One 2. Chapter Two 3. Chapter Three 4. Chapter Four 5. Chapter Five 6. Chapter Six 7. Chapter Seven 8. Chapter Eight 9. Chapter Nine 10. Chapter Ten 11. Chapter Eleven 12. Chapter Twelve 13. Chapter Thirteen 14. Chapter Fourteen 15. Chapter Fifteen 16. Chapter Sixteen 17. Chapter Seventeen 18. Chapter Eighteen 19. Chapter Nineteen 20. Chapter Twenty Author's Note Also By Elizabeth S. Trafalgar Chapter One The entourage accompanying me to my probable death stretched nearly two leagues long. When Bayeux sent a tribute, no one could say we didn’t do it in style. I was in the middle of it all, carriages with nobility of varying degrees of import in front of me, carriages stuffed full of gold, jewels, and other exotic goods trailing behind. Soldiers marched on either side, trudging through the early fall drizzle that had turned the roads to mud, white-knuckled hands gripping sword hilts, wide eyes darting back and forth to spot any danger. More often than not, they were glancing towards my carriage. After all, the greatest danger wasn’t someone attacking the line of carriages carrying half of the minor nobles of the royal court and lifetimes’ worth of riches. No, it was that before we made it to Leugarvin, something would happen to me. Jewels and gold and other nobility could be lost, or stolen, or tossed into the sea for all our guards cared. Their sole, singular objective was to get me across the border. In so many ways, what surrounded me was merely a distraction. If they failed to do so, we would not even have the chance to compete for peace. Not only would my life be forfeit, but the lives of half the kingdom would as well. My death would not even bring security to my people. It would merely be a senseless, useless thing. Yet another princess who died on the way to Leugarvin, her entrails spilled on the muddy ground, her bones crushed, her head cracked open. However the other kingdoms chose to do it, the end result was the same. One dead princess. One less competitor. And one more kingdom subject to Leugarvin conquest for another hundred years. I gazed out the carriage window at the gently rolling hills of Bayeux’s countryside, the mist clinging to the ground as the sun rose on yet another gray, dreary day. But even though it was bleak, I cherished it, the faint dampness that made its way into the carriage, the smell of wet loam and mud and leaves, the crispness of the morning and the way the cold stung my eyes, still hot with sleep. I didn’t know how many more of these mornings I would see. If I was dead—well, then mornings would no longer have any meaning to me. If I managed to stay alive, it would be a far different sunrise I’d be watching for the rest of my days. I dug my hands into the fur stole over my shoulders, shifting closer to Marie, my lady in waiting, who had fallen asleep against my shoulder. She was warm, and her presence calmed the racing of my heart ever so slightly. It hadn’t stopped beating frantically since my parents had chosen me as the tribute for the Kingdom of Bayeux. From nerves, or a secret thrill of excitement at finally getting to leave my home, I couldn’t tell. But either way, there had been a tremor in my hands and a twitchiness in my limbs since we had left the court, and I would take any comfort I could get, even if it was the well-known smell of Marie’s perfume and the weight of her beside me. I was going to die, or I was going to live as a captive bride for the rest of my days, and either way it was not up to me. Assuming my guard could get me safely to the border of the fae kingdom of Leugarvin, my fate now rested in the hands of whichever son of the line of Kasserine had been chosen as High Prince. The carriage bumped over the road’s many holes, and my teeth clattered together with more than just nervous energy. We were slowing, and that combined with the rumbling in my stomach told me that it must be time to break for yet another meal. Sure enough, we came to a halt a few minutes later, and a guard rapping on the door of the carriage startled Marie awake. “Katrine?” She blinked at me sleepily. “Is it time for the morning meal? I must have slept through the night this time…” I gently shifted her head off of my shoulder so that I could lean forward and unlatch the carriage door. “Yes, you did. At least one of us was able to get a good night’s rest.” I had snatched a few hours of sleep, but as I had for the last weeks’ worth of travel, I hadn’t been able to sink into anything approaching actual slumber. It had been weeks since I’d slept deeply enough to dream, although I supposed that might have been a blessing—my dreams were as likely to have been nightmares as anything pleasant. The guards at the door saluted me as I stepped down on shaky legs. “Princess Sardonne,” one