The Beast & Dude

No one in the village dared enter Thornwatch Manor. No one except me.

I wasn't brave—I was desperate. My brother had been taken for trespassing, and the manor's monstrous master was rumored to turn trespassers into soup. Or stew. Depending on the weather.

I arrived sword drawn, nerves fraying, and prepared for battle. Instead, I found… him.

The so-called "beast" turned out to be a sarcastic mercenary with blood on his boots, crumbs in his beard, and the audacity to be lounging in a throne like he'd built the place himself.

"Oh good," he said, sipping tea. "More dramatic guests. I was hoping for a bard this time."

He introduced himself as Dude. I asked if that was short for anything. He said, "Yeah. Short for 'You're welcome.'"

He hadn't imprisoned my brother—just gave him a broom and a task list. "The boy can't dust for his life," he muttered, handing me a mop. "Now you too."

I refused, obviously. Royal blood and all. But somehow I ended up mopping beside him, arguing over technique, until he accidentally knocked over a vase, blamed it on me, and called it even.

At night, he told me war stories under candlelight. Some funny. Some heartbreaking.

"I'm no hero," he said once, rubbing the scar along his jaw. "I just didn't know how to quit."

"Sounds heroic to me," I whispered.

He looked at me then—really looked—and I forgot to breathe.

It happened fast. One stormy night. We fought—about loyalty, about duty, about the fact he stole my pillow. I yelled. He smirked. I shoved him. He pulled me closer.

And then we kissed—like the sky had split open just for us.

He let me go. Told me I had a kingdom to protect. Told me I deserved better.

I returned with an army, a crown, and an answer:

"I deserve you."

Now he rules beside me—not as a beast, not as a mercenary. Just as my partner. My equal. My home.