“Where were you?” my stepmother accosted me as I crossed the threshold of my cottage.

I carefully placed my bow and quiver by the door, took off my boots, and sat down by the hearth. I didn’t bother taking off my thin coat because neither my stepmother nor my stepsisters bothered to light a fire. The cottage had cooled down quite a bit since the fire went out in the early morning hours, but the chill didn’t bother me.

“Why are you sitting down?” demanded my oldest stepsister, Mari. She was a tall and slender girl of 23. Her brown hair was tied back with a blue ribbon, one of the only nice things she had left since the death of my father and the ruin of our estate. “A fire needs to be lit, and don’t you have some grotesque animal to disembowel?” Her mean blue eyes looked at me with malice and disgust.

“You’ll get your fire, Mari,” I grumbled. “Give me a moment to catch my breath,” I said and closed my eyes.

“It’s freezing in here,” pleaded Lucy, my other stepsister. Where Mari was tall and thin, Lucy was on the shorter and bigger side. Her red hair was pinned back with a pink flower pin that was starting to fray at the edges. Lucy was the whiny one. Being the youngest of the two, she was doted upon and, as a result, was completely helpless.

“I just need a minute to rest,” I said, my eyes still closed. The cold of the cottage didn’t bother me. After spending all morning in the frigid woods, I was quite content with the cool darkness inside.

“Ashley!” my stepmother commanded. “Get up this instant and start a fire in this hearth!”

I willed my eyes to open slightly. After pulling the large elk home, my muscles screamed and protested any movement.

“Perhaps it’s time you learned how to do this yourself, my lady,” I said tersely.

“Why, you ungrateful little whelp!” she barked. “If you were mine, I would have drowned you before you took the first drink of your mother’s milk! Get up and work or find yourself a new place to live!”

With this, I stood up and looked directly at my stepmother. I felt rage coiling around my heart like a viper ready to strike.

“Without me, you and your daughters would be dead,” I said calmly and walked out of the cottage.

I moved my sled with the elk into a shed next to my house and began my work. It was no easy feat—my muscles ached in the cold and my stomach was pained from hunger. The last meal I had was yesterday evening, a thin rabbit stew I made from my previous kill. My stepmother and sisters complained with every bite they took, but they still helped themselves to second portions.

I worked carefully and diligently, making sure to keep as much of the pelt intact as possible. I kept thinking about the Prince. I didn’t know much about the royal family, all I knew were rumours that floated around the village. The old folk would say that the late king was a shapeshifter who stole beautiful girls from the village to mate and then devour. It was from such a union that Prince James was born, or so they said. Once the king passed away, the kidnappings stopped, and the rumours became just stories. Prince James was of low birth and as such not recognized by the sovereign kingdoms surrounding ours, but he inherited this land and ruled it fairly. He bought local food from the farmers and kept the forests stocked and maintained for the hunters—so no one bothered to make up stories about him.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Still, meeting the prince on the road like that was a bit unusual. Normally, he travelled with others—a servant or a squire. I thought about his face and the self-assured grin he gave me when he demanded to know my name… Miss Hunter, he said… I felt my cheeks flush and my heart quicken. I pushed the thoughts of the meeting out of my mind as I continued to work on the elk.

I kept working for hours and stopped only when I realized I needed a candle to see clearly. The elk, however, was skinned and most of the meat was processed. My hands were covered in blood and sinew, and my auburn hair clung to me in clumps as beads of sweat rolled down my face.

I was about to leave to go inside the house, not relishing any conversation between myself and my family when there was a knock on the shed’s door. My family never knocks and they never come here. As my sisters casually informed me many times, it smelled too much like a “pigsty,” which I guess assaulted their “delicate dispositions.”

“Come in,” I said timidly. The door opened with a creak and a tall male figure stood in the doorway. In the faint glow of the setting sun that seeped through the shed walls and roof, I saw that it was the Prince. Suddenly, I was very much aware of the way I looked. I tried to rub off as much blood from my hands as I could on my apron and I ran my cold fingers through my hair.

“Your Highness,” I curtsied awkwardly. “The pelt is not dry yet…” I started, but he interrupted.

“I am not here for the pelt, Miss Hunter,” he said. His tone was cold and formal, very different from the playfulness he exuded in the woods earlier this morning. God, was it only today that we met?

“My steward informed me that the elk you killed was a protected animal in my woods,” he continued. “As such, you have committed a criminal offence punishable by a substantial fine or time in prison.”

“But you saw me with the elk this morning, why not seize it then and there?” I retorted. I felt my heart quicken and the blood drain from my face.

“This was new information I learned upon my return home earlier today,” said the prince. “And in any case, it is not in your station to question what punishment I dole out and when,” he said sharply.

“Apologies, Your Highness,” I said and lowered my gaze, “but it hardly seems fair…” I started, but he cut me off sharply.

“Miss Hunter, you are on dangerous grounds questioning the fairness of my decisions… tread carefully,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I meant no offence, Your Highness,” I said as I continued to look at my bloodied hands.

“You will return with me to the castle, Miss Hunter. I will decide what to do with you in the morning,” he said as he turned around and left the shed.

I followed. In the dim light, I could see a black carriage trimmed in gold accents and saddled with a chestnut mare waiting in front of the house.

“What did you do, you stupid girl?!” I heard my stepmother scream as she ran towards me.

“No need for hysterics, ma’am,” said the prince calmly. “Your daughter has committed a grievance and will simply be paying her dues.”

“She is no daughter of mine,” said my stepmother, looking at me with disgust and shame. “Forgive us, Your Highness, we didn’t know what she was doing. We are blameless!”

“To send a child of seventeen alone into the forest while you sit around and do nothing to provide for your family is hardly blameless,” he spat at my stepmother. He placed his hand on the small of my back and gently pushed me forward past my family to the waiting carriage.

I could feel my stepmother’s gaze on us even as we climbed into the carriage and drove away.

My home disappeared quickly behind me. The dark woods sped by as the carriage carried us forward through the winter forest illuminated by twilight.

“What will happen to me?” I asked quietly, not daring to look at him.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he said. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I detected a hint of warmth in his tone, and when I looked at him, I could see that same playful smile he gave me earlier in the woods.