The Princess and Her Werebear

The night is quiet, a small breeze blowing through the land, upturning loose gravel and russet grass.

The stories have been coming in daily. The death toll and the numbers of enemy soldiers crossing their border only continues to increase excessively.

This is what Eliana ponders on as she sits on her balcony, watching the wisps of clouds shift over the harvest moon. The bright hue washes over the sky and paints her father’s dark castle maroon.

The small tower in which her quarters reside, are scorched along the outer walls. The worn-down palace is surrounded by a barren wasteland that expands for miles outside the small village at its base. Eliana remembers when it was once lush and bountiful. When she would pick berries with her mother all day. Now the grass lay in clumps, the bushes burned or dried up. A majority of the trees are chopped down and the fields that the farmers once plowed are now unfertile.

“Princess Eliana, you should really come inside.”

She turns, her wavy, golden hair slipping from her shoulder and swaying across her back. She smiles softly toward her elderly handmaiden.

“Selma, it is a nice night tonight. I have not been able to enjoy such an evening in quite a long time.” She moves over to Selma, her pale blue dress swaying around her. “This war has taken so much from not only us, but the whole country.”

The handmaid softens her dark gaze, lowering her shoulders. “My Lady, you are secure within these walls.”

A rough knock echoes throughout the bedchamber and Selma shuffles over to answer. A young, burly man clad in armor barely fits in her doorframe.

“My Lady, the king requests your presence.”

“Thank you,” a small smile crosses her lips.

The soldier bows and disappears into the shadows of the corridor.

Eliana finds her father in his study. This is where he is for the majority of his day. His shoulders are sagging and his once perfectly dark mane is now greying.

This war will take Eliana’s lineage from her if they do not find a way to counter King Krite and his sons.

“Father,” she announces as she moves to his side.

King Daniel Georgian glances up from the parchment spread out in front of him. They consist of maps and old battle plans etched into the crumpled material. There are two soldiers, high ranking generals, that stand next to her father. They bow before quietly leaving.

He stretches his back, wincing, “I have important news to tell you.”

Normally Eliana is invited to the planning for the battles. Being the highest regarded confidant of the King gives her the opportunity to have a say in almost all matters. “What is it father?”

“This war has taken a lot out of me. Krite has already destroyed half of our country.” Her father’s voice is rough and gravelly. This carnage has lasted for years. Since her mother passed.

Eliana places a hand gently on the King’s arm. “Drein is strong. We will overcome this, father, I know it.”

“The country of Climont that Krite rules might be smaller, but their soldiers are trained from a young age, specifically for war. There is no room for weakness. If I allow this war to go on much longer, all of our citizens will be out of a home, or massacred.” His hands are tight against the table, his brow furrowed.

Eliana ponders for a moment. “What are we to do?”

The King straightens and folds his large arms. He refuses to look his daughter in the eye as he speaks. “Prince Drake, the third son of King Krite, has offered a solution. It has not even been mentioned to Krite yet. It is a chance to overcome this genocide.”

Tension builds in Eliana’s stomach. She knows this will not be good. “What is it?”

Her father all but whispers, “An arranged marriage.”

Heart in her feet, Eliana sways as her mind grows hazy. “Father, what have you done?” A shiver of dread creeps up her spine.

Now he peers down on the princess, his eyes steady. “With your hands bound in matrimony, Prince Drake will honor the agreement and halt all attacks on Drein. He will help our country regrow.”

Eliana wants to laugh. To scream. To grab the King by the shoulders and shake him. How could he make such a deal? Especially without consulting her. He has never done such an action before. “Father, do you honestly believe that Prince Drake will help us rebuild? He will most likely only wish to take over, and me as his wife, you will be forced to submit.” Eliana’s jaw is clenched as she stares at the ground. She bites her words; what is she to do? She cannot defy orders. In the end, her father has the last word.

Her mother forced her father to promise never to marry her off to a stranger. She wanted true love for Eliana. For her to be happy. It was her only wish, at least the only one she was able to make before she was murdered.

“Without his help, we will die. Most of our people have already fled, losing their faith in our power,” he says softly. His dark hair is unruly and his pallor greying. “Our happiness does not matter in the eyes of the kingdom.”

“We, ourselves, have lost faith in our abilities. We do not hold the strength to continue like we have done.”

“Eliana, please, just listen to me. This one time.” Her father reaches for her, but she steps away, wrapping her arms around her sides to protect herself.

She sighs, not bringing up the point that she always listens to him and does what he asks. “If you truly believe that it is for the best of our kingdom, I shall commit to it.” She hides her fists in the folds of her dress. She presses her nails into her palms, so much so that the pain dries her eyes.

“Thank you, my dear.” The King’s expression relaxes, and he leans against the table. “Drake has been pressuring me for an answer, so I am glad that you have given it. We shall send word immediately and explain that you will arrive as soon as possible.”

Eliana closes her eyes and fights the bubbling tears. She tries to give him a reassuring smile but did not know if she succeeded.

He gently lays his hands on her shoulders, “You know that I love you, right?”

“Of course, father, and I you as well.” The tears glisten in her eyes but she miraculously keeps them from overflowing.

One of the generals from earlier rushes in, his armor echoing in the small study, “My Lord, we have news from Pyrion.”

Clearing her throat, Eliana composes herself, “I shall take my leave.”

The King only slightly acknowledges her comment as he turns to his soldier for the debrief.

Eliana is in a daze. She is to be married. To a stranger. To their enemy.

She once relished the idea that she would have a choice. To be free to love. It is common for all social classes to have the parent choose their child’s partner. It was unique that her mother had decided against it. Why, Eliana will never know, but it had made her happy.

Now none of that matters. She is going to marry Drake. The devil himself. Is she going to even survive this?

Pressing her lips together, the Princess quickly wipes a stray tear from her cheek. Whatever lies ahead of her, she will play her role for the future of their kingdom. For their people. If this is her fate, then so be it.