For the Crown (PREVIEW ONLY) Formerly Prince Gallant

CHAPTER 1: GUESTS IN THE KEEP

Kenna Margaret sighed. "Very well, child. If you wish to dig your own grave. Come along, ladies. You heard the princess." Margaret shooed the others. Then she afforded Lena a final, appraising look before shaking her head. Just as she turned to leave, the corners of her lips twisted into a smile. Her kenna wasn't so bad. The woman was a great lover of fun after all, else Lena would not have put up with her for so long. And despite her growing age, they were good friends, even if Margaret was a bit old-fashioned.

She waited for her kenna to disappear before making her way through the remaining levels of the keep. All the while, she wore a sly grin on her face. Margaret had every right to be upset with her attire. Each tattered garment was purloined from one man or another—soldiers mostly. It was an immense struggle finding things to fit her slight figure, but a great deal of fun stealing them.

Beige leggings with knee-high leather boots adorned her legs. A red tunic with a black padded doublet covered her chest and arms. A sashed belt wrapped tightly around her waist. And leather bracers were strapped to her forearms, even though she'd never fired a bow. The only thing she was missing were weapons. If only she could have succeeded in stealing a sword, or a bow and set of arrows, or even a knife for her belt. Then she would have truly looked the part.

Her hair was fierce too. It was braided in tight rows along her scalp from her hairline to her crown. The braids were pinned to avoid unraveling, while allowing the remainder of her long brown hair to fan out behind her like a barbarian pirate. How magnificently ridiculous she looked! Princesses were not supposed to dress like peasant mercenaries. Her mother was going to have an absolute fit.

She passed a planter box and stopped short. Ignoring the roses, she looked at the dirt and smiled. Yes, this would do nicely. Bending over, she scooped up a small handful and rubbed it on both hands, savoring the gritty texture. She smeared a bit upon her cheeks and forehead before generously wiping the rest upon her tunic. Then she descended to the final level of the keep and came to a stop in a shadowy corridor just beyond the entrance courtyard.

The Great Keep of Kastali Dun was at the heart of Dragonwall's capital. It was built upon a rocky outcropping that loomed over everything. Its many corridors and courtyards overlooked the Bay of Bandu to the south-east, with its mighty ports and dockyards. And to the west, the setting sun often lit the waters of the Dragonfire Sea aflame with light, offering spectacular views. To the north, the sprawling city of Kastali Dun stretched outward, housing tens of thousands of Dragonwall's inhabitants.

The hopefuls in the entry courtyard stood before the portcullis where they had been advised to wait. They had been told that the Princess of Dragonwall was supposed to welcome them, and Lena had assured her parents that she could handle the responsibility. Her grin widened. She had never promised her parents that she would handle it well.

She surveyed her guests from her hiding place. They shifted from foot to foot while they waited, clearly affronted by her lateness. These men were taller than human men ought to be, with strong muscular builds and perfectly shaped faces. By all accounts, they were far too handsome for their own good. This was because these men were not simply men. They were Drengr—dragons blessed with humanity—and each of them had come with high hopes.

She marched out into the open. "Greetings, gentlemen!" Her voice rang out, amplified by the towering walls surrounding the courtyard. She placed herself before them, hands on her hips. The group regarded her, observing her attire with looks of confusion. A few expressions twisted into distaste. Who was this untidy woman in men's clothing? What right did she have to address them?

She smirked at their reactions. "Thank you all for coming," she said. "I regret to inform you there has been a change in plans. Your services are no longer needed." She paused, watching as scowls deepened. "You may turn around and go home now."