Sequel: The Game ›
Status: complete, but revisions are being made
The Pauper Princess
Chapter Forty-Five
In a matter of seconds, Chelan is pinned to the ground. Ekohl, kneeling with one foot on Chelan’s back, looks over his shoulder to me. I offer a small smile and nod to assure him that I am unhurt. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jegan suddenly rushes between us to Mehta.
“Are you alright?” he inquires.
“I’m fine, my lord,” she answers softly.
“Lord?” Jegan gently grasps her chin and forces her to look him in the eyes. She does so unwillingly, her eyes brimming with tears. “There is no need for my bride to address me so formally.” Mehta’s eyes widen and even I let out a shocked gasp.
“But-“
“You are not the princess?” Mehta nods meekly. He takes hold of her elbows and helps her to her feet. Mehta nods timidly but lowers her eyes. “I know that.” Jegan carefully wipes a tear from Mehta’s cheek and turns to address the crowd.
“Regardless of this woman’s parentage,” he says, silencing dignitaries, soldiers, and commoners alike, “I love her.” The crowd erupts in protest, but the prince raises a hand to quiet them. “It matters not if she is Kyshian royalty, for she will be a princess of Lequin.” He turns to face Mehta, and takes her hands in his. “If she’ll still have me.” Mehta’s smile brightens her whole face as she answers.
“Of course,” she affirms. She wraps her arms firmly around his waist. Jegan returns the embrace for a moment, then looks up as his father approaches. He releases Mehta slowly and stands beside her.
“From this moment on,” the king begins, taking Mehta and Jegan’s hands and joining them in his own, “This girl is a member of the royal family, and as such she is deserving of respect.” One of the dignitaries, an elderly man standing just beyond the king, lowers himself to a deep bow. Opposite of him, a young woman bows as well. One by one, each person- from noble to stable hand- kneels down as a sign of their loyalty to the new princess.
Even Valahn lowers himself to one knee before the couple, but his attention is soon pulled in another direction. Chelan has scrambled to his feet while Ekohl bows, and he is attempting to quietly make his way to the silver arch and the city beyond.
“I’m afraid I must arrest you, cousin,” Valahn states sadly. He reaches out to grasp Chelan’s shoulder, but the man steps back a pace.
“I would rather die,” Chelan says vehemently, “than live to see Lequin ruled by this Kyshian wench.” Chelan quickly snatches his dagger from Ekohl's hand and means to take his own life, but Ekohl intervenes before he is able to. With a quick reaction, he stops the dagger before it reaches Chelan’s chest and twists the hilt from Chelan’s grasp.
“You do not deserve death.” Ekohl throws aside the dagger and pushes Chelan toward Valahn, who takes hold of Chelan’s shoulder and forcefully directs him toward the palace.
“Are you alright?” he inquires.
“I’m fine, my lord,” she answers softly.
“Lord?” Jegan gently grasps her chin and forces her to look him in the eyes. She does so unwillingly, her eyes brimming with tears. “There is no need for my bride to address me so formally.” Mehta’s eyes widen and even I let out a shocked gasp.
“But-“
“You are not the princess?” Mehta nods meekly. He takes hold of her elbows and helps her to her feet. Mehta nods timidly but lowers her eyes. “I know that.” Jegan carefully wipes a tear from Mehta’s cheek and turns to address the crowd.
“Regardless of this woman’s parentage,” he says, silencing dignitaries, soldiers, and commoners alike, “I love her.” The crowd erupts in protest, but the prince raises a hand to quiet them. “It matters not if she is Kyshian royalty, for she will be a princess of Lequin.” He turns to face Mehta, and takes her hands in his. “If she’ll still have me.” Mehta’s smile brightens her whole face as she answers.
“Of course,” she affirms. She wraps her arms firmly around his waist. Jegan returns the embrace for a moment, then looks up as his father approaches. He releases Mehta slowly and stands beside her.
“From this moment on,” the king begins, taking Mehta and Jegan’s hands and joining them in his own, “This girl is a member of the royal family, and as such she is deserving of respect.” One of the dignitaries, an elderly man standing just beyond the king, lowers himself to a deep bow. Opposite of him, a young woman bows as well. One by one, each person- from noble to stable hand- kneels down as a sign of their loyalty to the new princess.
Even Valahn lowers himself to one knee before the couple, but his attention is soon pulled in another direction. Chelan has scrambled to his feet while Ekohl bows, and he is attempting to quietly make his way to the silver arch and the city beyond.
“I’m afraid I must arrest you, cousin,” Valahn states sadly. He reaches out to grasp Chelan’s shoulder, but the man steps back a pace.
“I would rather die,” Chelan says vehemently, “than live to see Lequin ruled by this Kyshian wench.” Chelan quickly snatches his dagger from Ekohl's hand and means to take his own life, but Ekohl intervenes before he is able to. With a quick reaction, he stops the dagger before it reaches Chelan’s chest and twists the hilt from Chelan’s grasp.
“You do not deserve death.” Ekohl throws aside the dagger and pushes Chelan toward Valahn, who takes hold of Chelan’s shoulder and forcefully directs him toward the palace.