A Farmer's Daughter

ASH

My muscles are tensely coiled as I listen to the imbecilic guards mumbling about what fate lay ahead of the ebony haired beauty rumored to sleep in the dungeons. She would be used up then passed around for the men. At least, that is what they hope for.

Little do they know, I have the prince’s ear. It was my suggestion that turned her from corpse to slave and she would be the key to the kingdom. Unknowingly becoming the downfall of a great people. Or so it is said, but I don’t value them as much as they value themselves. They are not great in the eyes of my people.

They are human. They are careless murderers. Pawns at my disposal. To them, I am Ash, friend to the throne. Playmate of their Crowned Prince from the age of five when I was “found” in the meadow beyond the palace walls.

Silly really. For I am not even human. I am Fae. Glamoured into an orphan twenty years past. If they only knew...

I’ve been at work on their demise for fifty plus summers. However, my plan never included this farmer’s daughter. This opportunity heaved itself onto my lap. I had hopes for a princess, but I have heard there are none quite as fair as this peasant girl. No, not a one. The king would not be tempted to chance his throne on any of the royals I have come across. This girl should do perfectl, if what all have been saying is true.

And once we round the last bend and I sight her within the cells, I know that it is.

Damn. It's almost a pity that she shall have to die .

The maiden is absolutely lovely, and I will certainly sample her before her time is done. First though, I’m sure the king will have his fun. What a shame that such an innocent should have to endure the attentions of the old human king.

Then again, she was ready to die when she ventured here. So, I am absolved of any guilt that I may or may not have. I smile to myself, thinking of her selfless act to save her wretched sire. Her spirit is strong. She will make a superb tribute. Especially if she is pregnant with the king’s bastard child when the time comes.

Her eyes catch mine as the guards force out her out of the cell. Twinkling and sparkling emeralds that shine with moisture. I shake my head minutely, expelling the strength of their charms within a blink.

She purses her full, round lips in disapproval, yet I see her blinking as she straightens her back proudly.

Good girl. Don’t waste your tears on this land. Save them for mine.

Farmer Myrh had been arrested the night before last. Upon arrival, he had pleaded the king take one of his daughters as payment of his debt. The king had accepted of course, but even after the farmer boasted of the youngest girl’s beauty and talents, he decreed she would lose her head. Saying that is she could bring any man to his knees with temptations of the flesh, that she was more a danger than an asset. No one had truly believed her to be so fair because the Farmer Myrh was so damned ugly, you almost wanted to beat him just so that his hideousness would make some kind of sense.

But, as they say, seeing is believing.

Unless you are Fae.

“Daphne!?” I say, eyeing her dirty garb and her arms still in chains. “You’ll have to come with me. The king would like to speak with you again."

To my surprise, there is no fear in her eyes as she looks upon me, only disgust.

“No,” she says, drawing a gasp from the guards. “I'd like to die now, please."

“And so you shall," i say, meaning every word. "But not on your time Miss... Daphne. For you are not king."

A shudder passes over her, her panting breaths causing her chest to rise and fall almost too deliciously. Tears fill her eyes once again, and I find myself gritting my teeth.

Oh for pity's sake. She's only a mortal.

Rolling my eyes I say coolly to the guards, "Bring her."

The walk from the dungeon to the opulent dining room where the fat human king is enjoying his breakfast is quite short and soon we are standing ahead of the dais as he guzzles down gluttonous portions of sausage and cake.

"Ah! The Myrh girl The farmer's daughter," Hadimere spits, food leaping from his teeth for freedom. "I have had a change of heart," he says, as the news he's about to share isn't a carefully crafted manipulation of my very own doing. He grins. "I am a benevolent and merciful king, so I have decided to keep you as a slave until such time such a whim no longer satisfies me," King Hadimere declares, ignoring the lewd smile that crosses his son,

Prince Hayden's lips. “Furthermore, should you take to your duties with gratitude and fervor, pleasing me and pleasing me well, I will arrange for a marriage for both of your remaining sisters. So they might see life beyond your humble beginnings.”

Daphne instantly hits her knees in thanks and the king smiles in approval. Already, she is working him over.

Now, why does that irritate me so?

Ah, yes, because I hate the bastard.

My eyes saunter over her and I can't help but think to myself that her mother must have been an extraordinarily beautiful woman, for she is nothing but.

But I can't imagine what the lady was thinking when she mated with that creature farmer.

Perhaps the woman was possessed. Or enchanted by some barkeeper's ale.

Hadimere grins. “Daphne is it?”

“Yes Sire,” she says.

“Rise,” he commands and she does. “Guards, escort this young maiden to the West wing. The tower room.”

“If I may be excused, father, I will see to her comfort,” Prince Hayden informs the king.

Hayden’s eyes are fastened to the girl's breasts and I fist my hands over the front of my tunic.

“No,” the king warns. “Ash will accompany her in your place as he knows better than to touch my things.”

I smile inside and laugh out loud as Hayden sends me a defeated look.

“It’s your fault,” I whisper to him as the guards gather around the farmer’s daughter. “You should never have slept with his mistress.”

He glares and I wink back at him.

“Do not worry,” I chuckle. “I’ll make sure she is bathed and ready for you later.”

Then, turning toward the girl, I lead the way to the West Tower.