The Long Journey

The journey to the Summerlands was an obscure one. She and her company of men and women left under a dark sky illuminated by stars. 

Princess Caroline sat stiffly in her carriage. She had enjoyed a deep sleep, no thanks to her father's meddlesome magical effects on her body the day before. They were moving through thick forests the last part of the Winterlands before they crossed over to the Autumnlands. 

The company around her moved silently aware of the gravity of the situation they were in should something go wrong. Her knights were dressed as merchants, her maids in commoner's cloaks, all of it attempts at avoiding detection. Lord Gregor her father's general had made it clear that should danger strike they were to ensure that the princess survived at all costs. The fact that they were willing to die for her weighed heavily on her chest.

As the rays of sun began to scatter across the sky, Princess Caroline eagerly committed the landscape of the Winterlands to memory.

They set up camp as they reached the border, and laughter rang out from the men as they exchanged stories of home, love and foolish fights endured. Princess Caroline sat by the flames wrapped in her fur coat listening and enjoying their easy conversations. She had to fight for these men she thought sadly of the loved ones they had to leave behind.

Edwin, the youngest knight, raised his mug with exaggerated bravado. "Have I ever told you of the time I killed five men in a tavern brawl?"

Lord Gregor snorted. "With that weak arm of yours? You can barely lift a sword."

The first arrow struck.

It embedded itself in a tree inches from Edwin's ear. He froze in place. The second arrow struck near a horse's hoof, effectively frightening the beast and making it scream and lift its front legs.

Lord Gregor shouted commands and swords were drawn as the knights assembled forming a defensive circle around the princess.

They lifted their shields as a storm of arrows rained down.

Her pulse quickened as she saw figures between the trees advancing towards them, they were no ordinary raiders, they did not carry armour just knives and bows.

Hunters, she thought.

Then he appeared, on a black stallion, his hand carrying a flame. Holding it up for all to see.

"Lower your weapons, or I will burn you alive."

He threatened.

In a split second, she knew they were in the presence of the Summer King. His authority was undeniable, his command sent a rush of heat coursing through her. Jolting her to action.

"Stand down," she ordered her men in the language of the Winter Court.

As she walked past her men stepping out of the protective circle.

"Your Majesty, we come in peace. It was your men who attacked first." She said calmly though her heart was pumping blood furiously.

King Casimir tensed.

The beautiful fair woman before him spoke fluently in the language of the Summerlanders.

Her knights moved to pull her back in but with a whisper she froze them in place.

"Release me!" Lord Gregor shouted furiously as he watched in horror as she stepped closer towards the Summer King.

King Casimir tilted his head, amused. His black hair and his amber eyes seemed to draw her in but it was his wicked smile that cautioned her. 

He dismounted and walked a few steps towards her.

"Interesting," he commented, as he studied the woman before him.

 "We were passing through." She said a hint of defiance in her tone.

"With an army at your command," he asked sarcastically. His eyes detecting the weapons carefully hidden.

The tension between them was palpable 

"Please, we meant no harm," she whispered as she drew closer to him.

She lifted her arm as if to touch him, at that moment the firelight illuminated the gold signet ring on her finger.

Catching the gaze of the Summer King, he stared at the crest on the ring and then at her face.

His amusement turned to realization as he murmured to himself.

"You're the Winter Court princess, I am to wed?"

"Yes," she replied swiftly.

"Lower your weapons at once." He ordered his men which they reluctantly obeyed.

"There shall be no bloodshed, general," he said addressing Lord Gregor.

A look of relief was clearly evident but the old knight remained silent.

"Tonight, I escort my bride home," the warlord announced to his men earning him cheers from all of them as he escorted her back to her carriage.

Princess Caroline let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding.

He had touched her hands as he helped her mount her carriage.

The heat of his touch lingering on her skin as they continued their journey to the Summerlands.