Fantasy Romance
Prince Randolph stared at the Hallean princess as nothingness surrounded them.
“Are you proposing a truce?” Prince Randolph asked.
“I’d rather go home than die here.” Princess Avari raised her brows in challenge
Not a “yes”, but not a “no”, either.
And strangely, he looked forward to finding a way home with her.
Princess Caroline married the bear of a prince, uniting their two kingdoms and what was left of their armies.
It provided her people with the protection they needed.
What she hadn’t expected was how much she enjoyed the prince’s tradition of sleeping beside him. How much she enjoyed sharing a bed with him. Or how she no longer needed her hand maidens.
His people were cold and unforgiving to outsiders.
But she was no longer an outsider.
Prince Hallmar touched a hand to Princess Caroline’s cheek. Her skin was soft, and this close to her, he could smell the light scent she wore.
His people didn’t wear scent, but he liked it anyway.
“You are certain you wish to go through with this? You would be my wife with all the responsibilities that accompany the position.”
She leaned into his large palm, them smiled up at him. “I except you will make them enjoyable.”
Princess Caroline wore the fussy flowing robes of her people with the golden belts and ties. She wore the heavy fur cloak he had gifted her overtop for warmth.
She was beautiful with her sun-kissed skin and golden hair piled into an elaborate style.
Prince Hallmar itched to free it from her bonds. To see her only in his cloak.
It was lust, not love, but it would do.
He needed to save his people.
An alliance through marriage.
To the soft princess of his rival.
Once, Prince Hallmar would have scoffed at such a notion.
But that was before the bulk of his army and hers had vanished.
Prince Hallmar stared down at the Morrovian princess.
The top of Princess Caroline’s head barely reached the bottom of his shoulders.
She was soft.
Feminine.
While her voice was gentle, she barked orders like a general.
And expected them to be obeyed.