Royal Chronicles of Denmark, Books 1 & 2 Read online

  As I placed the warm bread and ham to my lips, I could barely taste the crumbs when the sandwich was snatched from my hands by a merchant who claimed to witness the entire incident. The woman I had stolen from stood beside him and waved her finger in my face as if I were her disobedient child. She was a screaming local but dressed the same as a lavish tourist in large jewels and a brightly colored gown. I waved them both away and moved along, pacing through the crowds once more.

  I was standing near the fountain sneaking a few handfuls of dirty water when I saw a horse drawn carriage with large golden wheels gliding by. The carriage itself, shaped like a large pumpkin or sphere, was as white as pure snow, as were the two horses at front. Their mane’s were breathtakingly beautiful -- like pure silk fabric blowing in the wind. A gangly white haired man sat atop a bench at the front of the carriage, stopping the horses stride and checking the large clock tower in front of him. He seemed to be as tired and unhappy as I felt. When the clock tower chimed at exactly one o’clock, locals ran amuck toward the carriage, shoving past, and almost knocking me into the fountain. Fortunately I caught my balance on the edge, but wondered what was so damn special about that carriage in particular. Plenty of wealthy Denmark residents had carriages -- though very few had ever traveled through Hadenville on purpose.

  As more people moved forward, I wiped the water from my chin and stood to my tip toes, but failed to see a thing of any importance. I shoved past those who shoved past me first and moved toward the front just as the carriage door opened. A white carpet rolled out the bottom and a little red-faced man around two and a half feet tall stepped down holding a scroll in his hand. He was followed by the King and Queen of Denmark, and then finally Prince Norvack.

  My. God.

  I gasped. He was absolutely, positively delicious looking. Perhaps the most beautiful man I had seen in all of Denmark in years, if ever! He had shot up from his original stature of 5 foot 7, to about 6 foot 2 or 3 at best. His hands, from what I could see from where I stood, were strong, masculine -- perfect for picking up just about anything or anyone. Or clutching something, or someone, if he so admired or desired it. His lips were almost in the shape a heart -- full, pink and perfect. His overall physique was spectacular, a “rider’s” body if I had ever seen one before -- muscular, appearing statue like, and unbreakable. I imagined him playing various sports quite often in London, as well as trekking daily on his precious stallion as he so often did at home. Even his backside was round and plump, beautiful. His skin was freshly tanned and looked so smooth. I wished to touch it if only with my fingertips. His jade green eyes were so expressive and burning, burning with something, I wasn’t quite sure what. Even his nose and ears were seemingly perfect and symmetrical! His eyelashes, luscious and thick!

  I slid my hand up to my chest, feeling the rapid beating of my heart as I stared at him. What the hell was wrong with me? No man, no matter how beautiful, had ever made me think or feel such things before! At least not in such a manner as this! I bit and licked my bottom lip and suddenly felt my legs rubbing together in what seemed like an unconscious motion, creating a thick wetness between them. A strong feeling of lust and longing overcame me, I couldn’t help myself!

  I immediately shut my eyes and closed my fist. I clinched my teeth and shook my head. “No, no, NO,” I told myself. “Certainly not!” I took a deep, deep breath and opened my eyes again, doing my best to get rid of any desiring thoughts I had possessed of him. It wasn’t right to feel this way about a man I had hated since I was a child, one who hated me! Even if in that moment I had suddenly wished for his hands and mouth all over my body. In contrast to his vile brother or any other villager I had ever come across, I strangely had no qualms against welcoming the prince to desire me in various ways.

  But when I looked up at him again, I noticed that unlike his father, Norvack did not appear the least bit happy to be within village. And I wondered for a moment if it was in fact the first appearance made by the entire royal family since Willem’s death.

  A few maidens from the back ran up front as soon as Norvack took his proper place beside his parents. They were nearly foaming at their mouths like rabid dogs as they got a better look at him, a better look than I had. I felt ashamed for thinking that if I had just managed to get a bit closer, perhaps I would have been making the same cringe worthy faces and noises inappropriate for public eyes and ears as well.

  The prince admired each woman who stood before him. He smiled sincerely at them before allowing his eyes to travel down their shapely and supple bodies as they bent forward to his likeness, exposing their large breasts as they fit snuggly inside their fitted bodices.

  Of course, I thought. He hasn’t changed at all.

  I crossed my arms and dropped my head to the side. When another maiden bumped into me in trying to race up front with the others, I groaned loudly. Some people looked back at me as if I had personally disturbed them. I didn’t think I was that loud until I saw Norvack squinting and looking around at the crowd, searching for the direction of the noise. When he found me, I stared right into his jade green eyes just as he stared into my violets. He swallowed hard and knit his brows, looking at me as if he had just seen a ghost. A line formed between his eyes and it looked like he had stopped breathing for a moment. When he started up again, I noticed the breaths becoming slower and deeper. He smiled a little, at least it looked like he had, but I couldn’t be too sure. If it was a smile, it was pensive, sad. The wind blew strands of hair around his chiseled face, but he never moved, only staring at me, harder now as if I were the only person in the crowd. Admittedly it started to make me uncomfortable, as I wasn’t sure how to read or react to him. I snatched my eyes away and slinked behind a woman in front of me, but peeked through the slit between her arm and the side of her chest to stare at him once more, as he had me.

  “Hear ye, hear ye,” said the little man as he opened the scroll. “To the humble village of Hadenville, I present to you the King and Queen of Denmark, and their son, Prince Norvack Lars Belarus I.” Everyone clapped, including the woman in front of me who lowered her arm. I couldn’t see around her anymore and was left to only listen as the little red-faced man spoke again. “The royal family would like to thank the kind citizens of Denmark for their extreme generosity during such a tragic time as this. They would like to let you know how much they appreciate your prayers, gifts, sympathetic letters, and leads. And though the family is still in search and refuse to give up the fight to bring Prince Willem’s murderer to justice…”

  I swallowed hard and immediately got the feeling someone was watching me in that moment. I looked around the crowd, feeling paranoid for a bit until I saw a pair of eyes glaring me from afar. It was the Sheriff. He stood just a few feet ahead of me and when we locked eyes, he turned away, pretending as if nothing had just occurred between us. But I knew better. As did he. He suspected me of Willem’s murder -- he had since that day a month ago when he ‘dropped in’ for a visit. No doubt he informed the king and prince of his suspicions then. No wonder Norvack looked at me the way he did.

  I cursed myself for choosing to leave my shelter on this day of all days. Curses! Curses! The Sheriff glared at me again as I bit my nails in a fury, but I paid him no mind and tried peeking around the person in front of me again. I searched for Norvack’s eyes. Where had they gone? Were they searching for mine as well? I could only assume so as he looked past the fresh faces in the crowd, the enthusiastic maidens and their hopeless mother’s. Each time I thought he found me, I ducked, moving about various bodies as they shifted side to side.

  “…We shall hope to no longer dwell in the shallow pool of negativity,” said the red-faced man as he finished his speech.

  “Thank you.” The king stepped forward and the little man stuffed his scroll back inside the pocket of his white jacket. He bowed to the king and stepped back once, standing aside the carriage. “As you all are aware, it has been quite a difficult time for our family indeed, but it is also time
for commemoration.” People looked to one another with furrowed brows and murmured in confusion. “Tonight, my son, Prince Norvack shall celebrate his twenty-seventh birthday on the grounds of the estate.” The king reached out for his son and pulled him to his side. Norvack grinned to please the crowd, showcasing his snow white teeth, but I could tell he still had no interest in participating in whatever the king had planned for his birthday this year. “The queen and I had already been married for years now…” A few murmurs about Willem and his mistress mother came up from the back, but the king ignored them and continued. “And we believe it is high time for our son to be married by now as well. Therefore, we have chosen to turn this year’s celebration into a game. A young mating game for the prince and prince alone.” He grinned wide and slapped his son on the back. People looked around again and shook their heads in more confusion. The murmuring heightened. “We believe our son will undoubtedly find his bride in this tiny village of Hadenville. Not only because of its rich history and bevy of beautiful maidens…” The queen cleared her throat and a few people behind me snickered. “But because we believe…” He stammered, apparently forgetting his words. “We believe…”

  Norvack looked to his father and moved up past him. He cleared his throat and adjusted his white jacket and collar. “What my father is trying to say is that despite such tragic events, we believe, or rather, I believe the maiden I am in search of -- the one I wish to spend all my days and nights with, forever and always, can exist nowhere but within this very village.” His voice was rugged and crisp, firm and strong. I imagined him whispering the most erotically charged things into my ear as he fondled my clitoris with his extraordinary fingers. “My father is being quite modest when he speaks of the bevy of beauty that lies here. He had wished to travel all over Denmark initially, but I chose this village, specifically, and I’m quite glad of it. Each fair maiden I have laid eyes upon today has been much more stunning than the last. And I would be more than honored to have any one of you as my bride.”

  I knew he was lying -- Norvack wished for a wife as much as I wish to die a public death in the village square -- but for some strange reason, I didn’t care. I only desired to continue hearing him speak; he could’ve said anything in that moment and I feared I would’ve stupidly fallen to my knees before him if asked.

  “Though,” started the king, “we must be reasonable in stating that we are only in search of the fair maidens within the tiny village between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, respectively. My son wishes to father children someday. Starting with Lars the II.” Norvack nodded sheepishly and looked away as the king bellowed and went on about the rules of the game.

  All maidens of the precise age group who were permanent residents of Hadenville were free to sign up, but only so many would continue forward in the game which would take place at the palace estates, beginning with round one.

  Before you even had time to unpack whatever bags you brought, you would be handpicked to move forward to round two based on looks alone. Naturally, the beautiful swans would be in and the ugly ducklings would be gone long before sundown.

  You were to be lined up like shooting ducks on the lawn adjacent to the palace as the king pointed solely to the swans he wished to keep for his son. Those not chosen were to leave the kingdom at once. The rest would continue onto Norvack’s birthday dinner that night, and the second round the following day, where a certain glass slipper would decide your fate. If the queen’s right shoe fit the foot of any maiden perfectly, not too big or small around the toes or heel but an exact fit, they were eligible to move ahead to round three -- secluded time spent with the prince in his chambers. From there, the game would continue accordingly, as each maiden would be sent home at the end of each week until there was only one left standing. That lucky maiden would receive the glass slippers as a formal bridal gift and a brass ring upon her finger, courtesy of the prince. When someone spoke up about the remaining maidens who made it past the third round of the game, the king stated those maidens would receive free room and board within the estates, a brand new wardrobe fit for a potential princess, daily activities in grooming and such, and lessons in proper manners.

  It all sounded almost too good to be true.

  Perhaps it was.

  “My, this is strange, isn’t it?” whispered a small elderly woman to her husband as Queen Eliza shared her personal thoughts on the game. She pushed her cool white hair away from her withering face. “Strange that anyone would even think of doing such a thing at a time like this. A mating game in search of a maiden for their son, so soon following the death of Belarus’ first born? And within the very village in which he was found dead, right here? I believe they should still be in mourning.”

  The husband nodded. “Mm-hmm. They should. Though, it has been a month and they have acknowledged they are still in search of his killer. I believe this may be the way in which they choose to cope with son Willem’s death.”

  She scoffed. “Nonsense. There is something more to this game than meets the eye and I refuse to listen to anymore until they admit the truth. Let’s go.” She pulled her husband by the arm and they made their way through the overzealous crowd.

  I was suddenly suspicious as well. Why choose to find a wife for Norvack within the same village that his brother was found slaughtered? It didn’t make much sense, nor was it practical.

  Once the queen finished her speech, the maidens who wished to sign dashed around one another, fighting and shoving to get to the other scroll the red-faced man had just pulled from his left pocket. He reached for a pen and ordered each maiden into a straight line down the elongated white carpet. They pushed and shoved but finally got in proper order after minutes of arguing about who stood where first. One by one, they stepped up to sign their first and last names, giggling and hopping away as they looked over at Norvack. He nodded and grinned but for some reason, glowered and exhaled between his teeth once they passed him by. I noticed him looking out into the crowd once more, seemingly searching for something or someone, and was puzzled.

  After the last maiden stepped up to sign the scroll, the tiny red-faced man asked the crowd if anyone else within the proper age requirements had opted to sign. Once in a lifetime opportunity, he called it. A few women who looked older than even his grandmother volunteered to no avail. Norvack seemed nervous and tugged at his collar. He looked out into the crowd again and puckered his brows. I searched all around me, realizing that no one else was eligible to sign up for the game. I was the only maiden left able to still compete with the three-hundred and fifty other women who chose to compete for a hand in marriage, though, I most certainly wasn’t willing.

  As much as it all sounded like a wild dream come true despite my suspicions, nights inside the palace, wardrobe fit for a princess, free meals at all hours of the day and night, even personal time spent with Norvack -- at the very least, I could spend all day and night staring at him, even if I did technically hate him and every word that dripped from his mouth like acid -- I couldn’t bring myself to participate. The prince wasn’t exactly choosing who he wished to marry, his father was strangely doing it for him, only using his son as bait to reel in the incompetent fish. Not to mention, I’m the one who killed the king’s first born; I didn’t exactly view myself as a welcomed guest, let alone a potential wife to the man’s brother! One wrong word from me, one accidental slip up in regard to Belarus’ bastard, and it was over for me. I couldn’t sign the scroll and jeopardize both my dignity and freedom.

  I stood back as Norvack and the tiny man continued searching throughout the crowd. It went on for a few more seconds before the tiny man began rolling the scroll and stuffing it back into his pocket. Norvack seemed a bit jumpy and frowned. He stepped forward and reached for his collar again. “Is there no one else here willing to sign?” he asked, sounding as fearful as he looked. I noticed him wiping a bead of sweat as he looked back at his father. “One more maiden of the proper age who has not yet signed the scroll?” The
king stepped up and pat Norvack’s shoulder, but his son raised a hand to him and closed his fist, appearing perplexed and upset by something. The king whispered something in his ear and Norvack fiercely rattled his head.

  It was all becoming a bit too much for me. I hadn’t planned to sign, what was he going to do? Force every maiden of the proper requirements to beg for his hand in marriage in front of everyone? Only for those of us who were sure to be rejected later to feel even more humiliation? I wasn’t going to wait around for such nonsense. Gradually, I backed away from the large crowd, slinking in between people as I moved -- they covered me like moss on rocks.

  I looked back at Norvack one last time before exiting the square. He was staring directly at me intensely, sullen.

  The Personal Invitation

  As I made my way back to my cottage, I tried getting Norvack himself out of my head and turned my thoughts back to the king, and his apparent motivation for this mating game. My suspicions grew. Why would he bother to have such a lavish event so soon after Willem’s death? And to advertise it in Hadenville? Surely every muck within the village was bound to show no matter the rules or requirements. And I couldn’t have cared less that his bastard was dead, but also couldn’t help but wonder about the rest of his family. Wouldn’t a nice dinner for Norvack suffice instead? Granted, these were the royals of Denmark, thus a celebration was bound to be held in honor of the prince’s birth at some point, but I imagined like the old woman that they would still be in mourning.

  Three harsh knocks on my door awakened me from a deep slumber. I yawned and groggily made my way to the front of the cottage as the knocking increased. As I looked through the tiny hole in my door, I saw Norvack peeking back at me. I jumped back and then peeked again to be sure of what I had just seen. No doubt it was his jade green eye. I shook out my hair in a fury and stood up straight. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, in through my nose, out through my mouth and wiped my face down.