The Princess and the Guard

Part 1: Emma Hamm

She walked toward the bedroom, fuming. More hours with that ridiculous, foolish, no good, bad tempered man! Wonderful. But the inn had only one room left with the festival going on, and that meant she had to take what she could get. 

They had traveled together for the better part of three weeks now. He was the trusted guard her father had personally sent her off with. She was the princess on the run. 

The coup had startled everyone in the palace. And this guard was apparently the only one who her father had trusted to leave with his most precious daughter. She now questioned her father’s sanity. The man was surly, rude, and he didn’t want to listen to her at all. If he knew how to speak beyond grunts, that would be a shock to her.

His stomping footsteps trailed behind her. Too loud. Too much. It was like he didn’t realize she could hear him even breathing at this point and every sound grated on her nerves. He did it on purpose, she knew. His very existence made her angry, but he was existing louder to make her life more miserable.

With her shoulder, she shoved the door open and stalked into the dingy room beyond. Only to stop, frozen, staring in horror. 

There was only one bed. 

Part 2: A.J. Locke

He stomped into the room, shaking floorboards that seemed like they were looking for any reason to crumble, and slammed into her. She would have had a painful meet and greet with the ground had he not grabbed her upper arm to help keep her on her feet.

“What’s the matter, Princess, room’s splendor got you rooted?”

“Yes, I’ve never seen so much peeling wallpaper before. Took my breath away.” Her sarcasm was thick as she wrenched her arm away. He slanted a grin, then spied the room’s lone bed. He strode past her and threw himself on the thin mattress, crossing his ankles and lacing his hands behind his head. She wasn’t sure how much of the dust cloud that rose up was from the sheets and how much was from him.

“Plenty of room for you,” he said, patting the space next to him. “And don’t worry, I may be a barbarian, but I know how to keep my hands to myself.”

Annoyance flared through her. “I’d rather take my chances on the floor with the rats.” She strode forward, intending to grab a pillow and the threadbare blanket, when she tripped on an uneven floorboard and pitched forward. Before she could attempt to regain her balance, she landed on top of him in an ungainly sprawl that knocked the wind out of them both and brought their faces close. Too close.

They both froze.

Part 3: Birdy Rivers

Staring at his deep brown eyes, she suddenly found the irritation from earlier fading into something else. How did this horrible man suddenly become handsome? She could feel how hard his muscles were, his strength showing even in a disheveled state. 

“Well, Princess, if this is how you wish to sleep tonight, I might make some suggestions.” 

She scoffed in her head as he let his clear desire show. How long had the slow burn of desire been closing in on them?

“Perhaps in your dreams that might happen.” She tried to hide her own desires screaming at her to give into the compromising situation. 

Pushing off the big brute, she rolled to the side of him, attempting to gain the will to sleep on the floor. The warmth of his body and his arm against hers had her questioning everything. 

Never in her life had she wanted someone in such intimate and perhaps inappropriate ways. She was a princess, after all, and that meant she had to have grace in everything, even being intimate with a man. However, the big brute of a body guard had her wishing she could act on her deep, dark desires. 

Just once she wanted to do something she wanted. Right now she wanted nothing more than to strip both of them of their clothes and spend the night exploring each other’s bodies. One night, one night to enjoy everything she’d fantasized about. One night surely wouldn’t be that detrimental to her reputation, right?

Part 4: Jennie Lynn Roberts

He slid his hands slowly under her shirt to rest on her back, the rasp of his calluses across her skin sending shivers dancing up her spine. The warmth of his breath caressed her cheek as he watched her, brown eyes locked on hers. “Princess, what is it you really want?”

She wanted her father to be safe. She wanted to fight back against the soldiers who threatened her entire kingdom. But she also wanted one moment when she wasn’t running. When she could take pleasure and offer it.

“I—” Her words caught; somewhere in the distance, she’d heard whistles. The high-pitched hunting whistles of the dog corps. They both froze, hardly breathing. And then she heard the bugle call. Hell and damnation. Meldue had found them.

Her guard lifted her and rose in one smooth motion to stand beside her. His smirk had disappeared, replaced with a look of grim determination and utter focus as he loosened his sword. Here, for the first time, was the warrior her father had promised.

“Orders?” he murmured.

They couldn’t go down, not with the army almost certainly already sweeping over the small town. They couldn’t hide, searches would be door to door. There was only one option. She’d detested the dusty room at the top of the inn, looking out over the dark and dirty back alley, but now it offered a fragile hope.

“Escape,” she replied, checking her daggers. “Out the window and over the roof.”

Part 5: KM Avery

At least she’d had the sense to steal her cousin’s trousers before being dragged off in the middle of a dynastic overthrow. Climbing over treacherous roofs in formalwear, or even a day dress, would have likely resulted in disaster … defined as plunging over the edge of the roof to a sudden, painful, somewhat gooey death.

As it was, she had to be very careful as she worked her way across tiles that were a lot more precarious than they’d looked from the ground, or even the window. 

One foot skidded, and she sucked in a sharp breath. As she waited for her heart to crawl back out of her throat, she looked back, making sure the only person following her was her bodyguard.

At least they’d eluded Meldue and his dogs for now.

Annoyingly, the lumbering oaf behind her must have been part cat, as he was having no trouble picking his way across the roof in a half-crouch, the position pulling the fabric of his trousers tight against muscular thighs and— 

Now was definitely not an appropriate time to be looking at the tightly-stretched material between his thighs.

She forced herself to continue, swallowing thickly as she reached the edge and had to contemplate where to go from there.

“What’s the matter, Princess?” came a softly-spoken drawl from behind her. “Can’t swim?”

She stared down into the dark water of the cistern below, then turned to look at him in horror. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Part 6: Michelle Diener

The water was cold, and she couldn’t see the bottom. It was a cistern, not a moat, she told herself. There was nothing here but rainwater.

She lunged for the ladder on the far side, and Harlock boosted her, muscled arms on either side of her, almost covering her whole body with his own as he stood a few rungs below.

“Quiet,” he murmured, and she heard the sound of dogs and men pass by below. 

Were they leaving? 

She and Harlock had made it to the very edge of town. There was little beyond the cistern but forest, and then on to the mountains.

They must know she and Harlock were still in town. Meldue’s thugs had seen them escape across the roofs.

Because it didn’t make sense, she lifted her gaze, found it ensnared in his.

“What do you think—?” 

His lips pressed against hers, and she stilled. Let her eyes flutter closed as she returned the kiss, felt the warmth of his tongue, the gentle bite of his teeth.

“If only,” he worked his way along her jaw, “I had known sooner.” 

She leaned back a little. “Known what?” she whispered.

“How to keep you quiet.” His grin flashed, the dimple in his cheek winking at her.

The blast of a horn, discordant and beautiful, sounded from the way they’d come.

“We’re saved.” Harlock cocked his head. “Only Farin can murder a horn like that.”

“Hooray.” 

Surely she should feel happier about the arrival of armed support?

Part 7: Lisette Marshall

Harlock lifted her from the water, his calloused hands gentle on her hips. Below them, Farin’s men swarmed the narrow streets. So many men!

Soaked and shivering, she stared at their reinforcements. Had so many of Father’s knights escaped the battle? Or …

She looked at Harlock. That unexpected charm was gone again. She found only the surly, dutiful guard who’d infuriated her for weeks.

“We must go down.” As if he had never even kissed her.

She climbed down, head spinning. Farin found her within minutes, triumph radiating off him.

“Your father reconquered the castle tonight, Princess,” he told her, leading her away. Harlock followed silently. “He sent us to find you. Taking you hostage was Meldue’s last hope, but …”

He pointed. A bloody splat on the cobblestones confirmed his men had taken care of that threat.

Harlock grunted approvingly behind her. Only then did she believe it.

It was over? She was … safe?

“We’ll guard you back home,” Farin continued, and she froze mid-step. The knights? Not the man who’d kept her safe for weeks?

Then who would grunt at her and give her infuriating grins?

“No,” she said, turning around. “Wait.”

Harlock stood behind her. Big and brutish—but the charming dimple was back.

“Princess?” he muttered. 

“I don’t need an army,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re the only man I’ll ever need.”

Farin had gone quiet. But Harlock’s brown eyes met hers, bright and smiling, as she stepped into his embrace and kissed him again.

The end