Exhale.
I force myself to breathe, filling my lungs fully. Then release my breath slowly, forcing calm into my body. I close my eyes, inhaling the crisp smell of pine.
I’m expected back soon. But I can’t appear in front of the courts in this state of mind. My Father expects me to welcome the North Men into our home with open arms. He expects me to forget the fear and heartache, the memory of their soldiers storming through our gates, drenched in the blood of my people. I told him it was a trap, that we were a mouse caught by a cat, their plaything. But he is blinded by his desperation. He forced me to put on this ridiculous dress, green to match my eyes and contrasting starkly against my ivory skin. He dressed me up like a prized horse, hoping to give me a Northern husband instead of a brutal death.
Over my dead body. I cross my arms over my chest and clench my hands into fists, shivering against the cold. I force another calming breath into my lungs. I need to stay calm. I need to keep the beast at bay. I am our final hope, our only remaining weapon against the North Men. I’ll be no good to anyone if I lose my cool now, with so many enemy soldiers around.
The North Men are heartless and brutal. It didn’t take them long to break through our defenses, and Father caved to their will quickly. He is scared of pain. Scared of death. A coward and traitor to his people. He can greet those monsters on his own, if they’re insulted at the absence of the Princess, so be it.
A loud snort makes me jump, but it’s only Pegasus, waiting impatiently a few paces away. I close my eyes again, trying to relax again. They spring open again when the sound footsteps reach me.
A young man steps through the trees, holding the reins to a giant black stallion in a fist. He’s draped in furs, his face travel worn and scarred from battle. He is handsome and roguish, his shoulders broad, his expression haughty. His dark hair and wild appearance marks him as a North Man. He stops a few paces from me and regards me coolly.
“Princess Eira?” He scans me brazenly, pausing on the royal amulet at my neck. His eyes are icy, nearly white.
“Northern scum.” My voice is level, despite the shiver of fear running down my spine at his piercing gaze. I square my shoulders and do my best to stare him down.
The man’s eyebrows shoot up, and a surprised smile quirks his lips. My jaw clenches and I can’t help glaring.
“Your presence is required in the Hall.” His tone almost makes me spit. How dare this foreign shit invade my home and butcher my people, and then command me like my title means nothing. Rage courses through me, and I have to close my eyes again, forcing another slow breath.
I open my eyes when the snow crunches. The man stands in front of me, looking amused. He is close enough that I know in a matter of moments I’ll be thrown over his shoulder and taken back by force. That would give them all a good laugh, the Princess dumped on the floor in a heap in front of the entire surviving court.
I roll my eyes and stride towards Pegasus, fully aware of the man keeping pace behind me. He mounts his horse quickly as I take my time, arranging my green gown to cover my legs. As I sit up I scan the area carefully. Beyond the tree line is an open field. Giant trees tower on the other side, so dense I can’t see past the first line of pines. The Forest of Dod, the place of nightmares. No one knows what horrors it holds, but everyone who has ever entered has never returned.
My mother’s voice enters my mind. “In your time of greatest need, reach the Shrine of Ulver, deep in the Forest of Dod. There you will find your destiny.” She had whispered this to me, tucking me into bed and running a hand over my hair. That was the last time anyone ever saw her. The memory was faded, blurred among the other confusing memories of my childhood.
I stare at the Forest. Only in my time of greatest need would I even dare. But it’s either this or handing myself over to the Northern Men, where I will be raped and killed, or forced into a marriage with one of their brutish men. Both are the same thing in the end. Desperation washes over me. Is it better to die in the Forest?
One single thought pierces through my mind, as if planted there.
Utholde.
Endure. Anger courses through my veins like fire, burning my to my core. This is my home, and I will not be led as a lamb to slaughter.
Utholde.
Endure. I turn and look at the North Man, who is watching me carefully. His hand lays casually on the handle of his axe. My eyes roam past him, and I clutch at my chest gasping, pointing a shaky hand behind him.
The second he turns his attention away, I dig my heels into Pegasus. He launches forward, thundering out of the grove and into the field, heading straight for the Forest. Something heavy whooshes, and warmth sears down the side of my face. The North Man had thrown his axe, just missing a killing blow. I don’t have time to assess the damage. I hunch low on Pegasus’ back and yell, pushing my heels hard into his ribs. He flies in a reckless gallop, and I pray we won’t fall. The North Man shouts behind me as I approach the treeline, either out of anger or a warning, I don’t know.
Right as we reach the treeline Pegasus slams to a stop, his butt nearly hitting the ground as he slides across the icy grass. I launch over his head, pitching head first into the trees. Darkness envelops me as I slam into dirt, tearing through pine needles. I land on my back and immediately roll over to see if I was followed. The North Man stops just outside the treeline, a look of total disbelief on his face. Pegasus is already almost to the other side of the field, making his way back to the castle, his eyes flashing white with terror.
I make eye contact with the North Man and smile. Only a fool would follow me in here. I climb to my feet, dusting off my dress. The North Man watches me, his eyes calculating.
“You’re going to die in there, Princess!”
My smile turns cold. “Better a death by wolves than by the hand of a wretched North Man.” I spit and throw my hand in the air, giving him a hostile gesture.
The North Man throws his head back and laughs. He unclasps the brooch holding his fur cloak in place and pulls something from his belt, wrapping it up. The cloak lands at my feet in a ball.
I stare at him in surprise. He gives me a smile, shrugging his shoulders.
“You’ll have more to worry about than wolves, Princess.” His tone is humorous. He salutes me, then turns his mount and begins making his way back across the field.
I lift the cloak from the forest floor, dusting the pine needles off. Whatever he put in it falls to the ground as I sweep the cloak over my shoulders, fastening it in place. A dagger, curved and brutal. Made of the black metal of the North. It’s as long as my forearm. I know he must have given these to me as a mockery, but I can’t help feeling a little grateful.
I grip the dagger in one hand and begin walking, getting swallowed by the darkness.
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