Gwennith Turconlyn kicked open the wooden door of her father’s office. The noise of the entrance startled Gwennith’s father and his guest. The heels of her riding boots clicked loudly as she stomped into the room towards her father’s huge ornately carved white oak desk.
“Father,” she yelled. “Why am I to be married off to the pig, Mastin Groach?”
The color of Gwennith’s face matched her bright red riding blouse. There was an almost visible fire behind the blue of her eyes. She stopped and pounded her black gloved fists on the top of her father’s desk.
“Why father?” her long red curls bounced and swayed with ever angry word. “Am I some sort of sow to be auctioned off to the highest bidder? Have I no say in my future?”
“Silence,” her father yelled as he bolted up from his lavishly padded black high-backed chair. “I am King Rignotte Turconlyn. And you will properly address me in that manner, especially in my office. You have no business or right to stomp into my private office in such a manner.”
“You have no right to sell me like a sack of wheat, “she yelled. Then the Princess sarcastically added, “King Rignotte.”
“Guards!” the king yelled. Two tall broad-shouldered guards were entering the doorway in seconds. “Take my daughter to her room at once.”
The guards warily approached Gwennith.
“Don’t even think about putting your hands on me.” She said not hiding her anger.
The guards, one on each side of the Princess, looked to the king for instructions.
“Gwennith!,” the king roared. “Leave with these guards this instant.”
He looked to his guest, “I’m sorry Lord Groach. It seems my daughter is a little bit of a free spirit.”
Lord Groach, a tall, thin dark-haired man sat in the red, overstuffed, leather winged back chair to the side of the king’s desk. Lord Groach raised his hand and shook his head.
“No need to apologize, King Rignotte,” he said in a smooth, deep voice. “I rather enjoy a spirited woman.”
“Lord Groach,” Gwennith yelled with spite and amazement. “You pig.”
She spit in his direction, but the spit harmlessly fell to the floor.
Lord Groach stood up and approached Gwennith.
“You’ll have to do better than that, my dear,” he said with a laugh. He looked her in the eyes then back at her father. “A virgin too you say? This one will be exhilarating to break.” He winked at Gwennith and smiled.
“Guards,” he yelled. “Grab her arms.”
Gwennith struggled but the guards’ grips were too tight. He walked up to her and touched her long, curly, red hair.
“Yes, I will enjoy taming you dear,” he said with a crooked smile.
Gwennith reared her head back and spit as powerfully as she could. She grabbed the guards’ arms before the spit found its mark between Groach’s eyes, and launched her right squared- toed riding boot into his crotch.
He let out a painful groan as he double over and fell to one knee.
“You little bitc…” he held his tongue.
“Get her out of here,” King Rignotte yelled. “Now!”
The guards turned the laughing Princess around and escorted her out of the room.
“She has quite a temper,” Lord Groach said as he regained his composure. “And kick too.”
“Yes, Lordship,” the king said helping the man to his feet. “She is quite spirited.”
“Nothing a stiff crop and spurs will not cure.”
* * *
Gwennith paced the floor of her large bedroom. Back and forth from the balcony door to her bedroom door the heels of her riding boots could be heard striking the grey slate floor. Twilas, the Princess’ lady in waiting and closest friend, was standing next to the large blue canopy bed hastily packing clothes into two leather satchels.
“Are you sure you want to do this Gwennie?” Twilas asked the pacing Princess.
“No, I don’t want to,” Gwen said as she stopped her pacing and looked directly at Twilas. “I am forced to do this for my own future. I will not be sold for a brood mare to anyone, especially to the likes of that…that pig.”
No sooner had the word “pig” left her mouth the door to her bedroom burst open.
“Are you talking about me again my bride?” Groach said in a calm, deep mocking voice as he stood in the doorway with a crooked smile and his hands on his hips. He turned to the two guards outside the Princess’ door.
“There will be no further use for you tonight. Here’s something for your time my good gentlemen.” He said as he flipped a gold coin to each of the guards.
“Thank you, my lord,” they said in unison then quickly walked away.
Lord Groach boldly entered the bedroom and turned his attention to Twilas.
‘You too may leave for the night,” he said as he flipped a gold coin towards her. Twilas let the coin hit the floor.
“I am here at the Princess’ request sir,” she said indignantly. “And until…”
“Be gone woman,” Groach growled through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes.
Twilas looked at Gwennith and the Princess nodded her head. Twilas walked over to Gwennith and put her back towards Groach. She took the Princess’ hands, kissed her on her cheeks and walked past Groach. As she passed Groach, she gave him the evilest glare she could muster.