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  Winter’s Kiss

  An Erotic Fairytale Short

  By

  J. P. Uvalle

  All Rights Reserved

  Winter’s Kiss

  Copyright © 2017 by J. P. Uvalle. All rights reserved. This copy or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, transmitted, scanned, distributed in any printed or electronic form whatsoever without prior written permission from J. P. Uvalle or the publisher, Beautifully Twisted Publishing.

  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of books or other creative works.

  Disclaimer:

  This book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the Author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexual content and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. For readers 18+ years of age.

  Blurb

  How Far Would You Go For Happily Ever After?

  Winter Belafonte, Princess of Stoneshire, has her heart set on finding a handsome prince to live out her happily ever after. However, when the expectations of running her father’s kingdom conflict with the love she so desires, she realizes the pursuit of happiness comes with a hefty price, leaving her with one question to answer, how far will I go for love?

  Estevan St. Claire, Prince of Farrington, is every woman’s fantasy. He attends the Annual Winter’s ball to meet Gwendolyn Balavarr, Princess of Adonis, the woman he is arranged to marry, with the promise of strengthening the alliance between their kingdoms. Then, he locks eyes with an undeniable beauty—another princess with cherry red lips and skin so temptingly sweet no other woman exists.

  A forbidden romance.

  Still, their instant chemistry and connection are too intense to ignore, placing the fate of their kingdoms in jeopardy. This predicament leaves the prince with one question to answer, can I risk it all for love?

  Will Winter and Estevan’s all-consuming love conquer all, or are they just a devastating tragedy waiting to happen?

  Quote

  “Life is like a snowflake—transient, translucent, adventurous, ephemeral, and beautiful.”

  ― Debasish Mridha

  Chapter One

  WINTER

  Milk-pan sized crystals delicately fall from the sky. Their unique patterns dance across my skin, reminding me of diamonds as they shimmer. An unattainable beauty. If a soul is lucky enough, they might experience their extraordinary grace for a moment or two. Most people might disagree with me that winter is the best season of the year, but if they only knew the truth, maybe they would think differently. It’s a time misunderstood. I’ve known ever since etching my first snow angel. Now, I can’t help but appreciate its vulnerable nature. Especially when the light hits the white powder, it bounces around the ice crystals and all the colors in the spectrum combined in equal measure. White is all we see, but the individual ice crystals are translucent.

  An arctic chill races through my bones, but I only feel warmth in my heart from the promise that lays before me and my kingdom. My people of Stoneshire. We were elected by the founding nations to host the annual Winter’s Ball tomorrow, making me the highlight of the festivities. Eligible suitors from all over the world will be here for a chance to swoon me into accepting their proposal for marriage. Some will be arriving tonight. Will I finally meet the prince of my dreams? Fall madly in love? The muscles in my chest clench with uncertainty for I’ve been waiting for this day ever since I was old enough to curtsy.

  Closing my eyes, a ragged breath escapes my lips as I imagine the anticipating moment of my prince waltzing into the room, his hungry eyes peering through the crowd in search of mine. And when ours finally link, there will be an unspoken agreement between our hearts.

  My beautiful vision shatters.

  “Winter,” my evil stepmother, Hildred, calls from the terrace.

  Blowing out a winded breath, I ignore her a few more seconds. Hildred’s voice agitates my every nerve, so I continue to spin around in a circle, allowing the fluffy snow to stick to the trail of my gown. She hates it when I track frosted dew into the castle.

  “Your Winter Ball gown is here,” she says through gritted teeth.

  I am a constant reminder she’s an old hag no one wants to touch unless it’s with a lance knights use during a tourney. “I’ll be right there, mother dear.” I force a smile, and she narrows her eyes at me because she knows I’m faking it.

  Even though sworn enemies, we try our best to remain cordial for the kingdom’s sake. It was my father’s last dying wish for us to live in peace and protect his legacy, and being the noble daughter that I am, I do everything in my power to not let her get underneath my skin. I am a royal princess after all with intelligence, and beauty. So as I see it, I already have several advantages over her.

  Sautering through the courtyard and beyond the castle doors, I make sure to collect more snow underneath my dress. The servants are already armed with cloths to follow behind me and clean up the snow that melts onto the floor, leaving pools of water. I feel guilty doing this to them, and I will make it up to them later with extra rations, but my goal at this very moment is to annoy Hildred the Hag as much as her existence annoys me.

  Zanna, my maid of honor, swiftly grabs the ends of my gown and walks behind me up the spiraling staircase. We round a corridor and step into a spacious hallway that leads to my bedchamber.

  Hildred and her royal guard are waiting by the double doors. She has a devious smirk on her wrinkled face, and it makes me wonder what she is up to?

  “Winter darling, I can’t wait to see you in your dress for the annual ball.” She motions me to her. “Come now, let’s try it on.”

  I blow out a subtle sigh. “Can’t wait.” A knot starts to grow at the base of my stomach as we walk together into my room. I find her happy demeanor suspicious, but I continue to act like I’m an oblivious fool when I rather slap the smirk off her face.

  My maid of honor allows the wet train of my gown to sweep the floor, and she walks with haste over to my armoire. Her hands graze along the gold handles as if she is afraid to open it. Zanna confirms her fear with the bite of her lip and the knot in my stomach grows even tighter. Hildred wouldn’t dare sabotage my dress for the ball, would she? If so, I’ll make it my life’s mission to give her pure Hell and misery until her last dying breath, and if she had ruined my dress, I anticipate her last breath would be soon. Zanna briefly looks at me then grips the handle to pull the doors open with her eyes closed.

  Immediately, I spot a light blue gown embellished with silver snowflakes, and I gasp in awe. It’s perfect. “Oh, mother you didn’t! It’s absolutely stunning.” I run to glide my hand over the smooth fabric.

  Zanna lets out the most prolonged sigh of relief.

  My stepmother’s hands go to her hips. “Well, what are you waiting for, dearie? Try it on.” Her smirk elongates, and I feel her torture is just beginning.

  What if it doesn’t fit? The anxiety of not knowing is a sword shifting around in my chest, and I can’t seem to get out of my current gown fast enough.

  Zanna realizes my struggle and steps up to loosen my bodice. “Please, your Highness, allow me.”

  The fabric contouring my body gives way, and I slip out of it with ease, and Hildred hands Zanna the blue dress, and she goes about prepping it for me to step in. I place myself in the middle of the fluff and Zanna glides the gown up and over my shoulders. She gives the strings on the bodice a few tugs, and it glues itself to my skin. After I waltz over to look the mirror, I stare a few seconds with my mout
h agape, unable to believe the girl looking back at me in the mirror is me. The sight is uncanny. A perfect fit.

  “Do you like it?” Hildred appears to me in the mirror and sweeps my curls over to one shoulder.

  When I stare back at her in the mirror, I catch a glimpse of something I’ve never seen in her beady eyes before—approval. Twirling around, I face her. “Like? I absolutely adore this dress. Thank you, mother.” Then, I do something I never thought I would do. I throw my arms around her neck, catching her off guard and it takes her a minute to register I am showing her affection and not trying to choke her.

  She hugs me back.

  What can I say…there’s a first time for everything.

  We separate at the sound of Zanna sniffling. Even she can’t believe what has taken place and wipes away her tears with her sleeve.“So beautiful,” she snorts.

  Hildred and I both clear our throats at the same time and smooth out our hair and adjust the material on our dresses.

  “Well, run along now and make sure the other servants are prepared for tomorrow’s welcoming banquet,” Hildred says.

  “Yes, your Majesty.” Zanna turns to walk away, but my stepmother grabs her by the arm and tugs her backward.

  “Don’t you dare speak of this moment to anyone, or I will have your head.”

  The bitch is back.

  “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “Good.”

  Hildred shoes her with her hand. It makes my blood boil when she treats our people with such disrespect—it’s our duty to lead by example. Now, I am back to hating you.

  She cocks her head to look at me. “Maybe you should lay off the bread tonight, dear. I would hate for you to not fit in your grown.”

  Welp looks like your back to hating me also.

  She sticks her nose in the air and sways out the room like she is God’s gift to the Kingdom, and I snarl after her even though she can’t see me. Mentally, kicking myself, I mumble curses under my breath. I should’ve known better. The woman is incapable of any real emotion other than pride.

  “Winter,” her scream echoes from the hallway.

  Yes. She must have stepped into a puddle. Mission accomplished. I twirl in front of the mirror, celebrating my small victory.

  Chapter Two

  ESTEVAN

  “With all due respect, father. I believe this alliance with King Balavarr is a mistake. Has it slipped your mind, that the last coalition he formed ended in a devastating war amongst the founding nations? The man cannot be trusted.” Boiling with fury, I ground my teeth, clenching my jaw so hard, it hurt. The last bit of respect I do hold for the man who raised me evaporates. My fists pound against the wooden table, the impact stunning our advisors; they shift uncomfortably in their seats.

  Darkness crossed his eyes. His lips twisting into a sneer as he points an authoritative finger at my face. “Your notion is preposterous. How dare you question my ability to decide the fate of our kingdom?”

  “Mother would be turning in her grave right now if she knew the coward you’ve become. She would never let this happen to her people, her kingdom.”

  He grunts. “Coward, you say? Your mother was a weak-hearted doormat, with a pea for a brain.”

  Now, you’ve crossed the line. “Mother was a wise woman. The only mistake she ever made was agreeing to rule by your side. You’re nothing but a desperate and deceitful bastard, who doesn’t know the difference between night and day.”

  Instantly, his hand connects with my cheek and heat radiates down to my chin. “Get out, you ungrateful brat. I expect you to be ready for your trip to Stoneshire by dawn. I’ll be trailing behind later in the day for I have Kingdom duties to attend to.” His roar echoes throughout the room. Jumping from my seat, I mock his words in my mind. Being in a crowded place with my father is the last thing I ever want. We rarely see eye-to-eye when it comes to governing the kingdom.

  Impetuous fool. If this is his attempt to regain trust with the people of Farrington. He’s going about it all wrong.

  Swinging open the door, I smack Lord Cedric in the face. I grit my teeth at him, the nosy bastard was eavesdropping again. Cedric is lucky he is my best friend, or the door wouldn’t have been the only thing that hit him in the face.

  Making my way to the spiraling staircase, I growl as I storm past the servants, knowing the alliance between my father and King Balavarr is going to single-handedly undo all the hard work my mother had done as queen. Balavarr is slithering serpent, and I believe the gossip about his daughter, Gwendolyn Balavarr being a real piece of work to be true. An arrangement guaranteed to leave an everlasting sting in my arse.

  Heading toward the stables, I play the final words she had spoken on her deathbed, over and over in my head. “Keep our people safe. Your father is a spineless ruler.”

  At this moment there is only one thing that could relinquish the hatred brewing inside my core.

  A quiet ride through the forest.

  Maverick, my experienced trail horse, awaits in the corner stall, chopping on freshly baled hay. His large eyes links with mine.“Neighhh!”

  Smiling, I say, “hey, there boy.” Approaching his quarters, I gently run my hand over the white stripe of his muzzle. Then, I grab a nearby rope and slide it over his muscular neck before I undo the latch closing him in. I lead him out of the stables, after that tying his line high with a double loop around the tree. The sight of the limestone walls buttressed by powerful square towers elicits a tightening in my chest. Shaking my head in detest, this place has suddenly lost its appeal to me, knowing what will become of it. I no longer view the castle as a place of refuge and solitude.

  My home.

  With a heaved sigh, I re-enter the stables to gather equipment and supplies. When I have what I need, I approach Maverick’s left side to apply his halter, making sure his bit is secure in his teeth before fastening it. After, I sweep down his withers, dusting off sticks and dirt from his black fur before placing the blanket and saddle over him.

  I untie him from the tree, and with the reins in hand, I place my foot in the stirrup. Annoyingly, a voice behind me interrupts my efforts, and I step off Maverick with a groan. Now what?

  “This is the third time this week you’ve run off to the forest. Should I be worried the King’s head will show up on a pike in the middle of the courtyard?”

  I snort. “I would ask him to kill himself to save me the trouble, but he’d probably miss.”

  Lord Cedric throws his head of golden curls back with a laugh. “You have a point. He’s never quite grasped the concept of wielding a sword or hunting like his heir.”

  “He hasn’t quite grasped the concept of running a kingdom either.” I scowl at him even though my expression is intended for my father. King Imbecil. “I used to believe in the good and potential of humanity… then my father made a deal with the devil himself. What a noble king.”

  Lord Cedric’s head falls between his shoulders. “I agree. This is going to create an uproar amongst our people, but what can we do?”

  Readjusting the crossbow strap over my shoulder, I say, “not a clue, but hopefully, a moment from all the chaos here will give me a clear mind to come up with a plan.” I repositioned my foot back in the stirrup and hoist my body over Maverick with ease.

  “Would you like me to accompany you, your Highness?”

  Out of nowhere, overcast skies turn everything deary and cold. It starts to flurry, and a thin sheen of snow covers the ground. I see concern swirling in Lord Cedric’s auburn eyes, but I resist. The sudden change in weather doesn’t deter me from going, or the fact I am in no mood for company. “I have my guard, that’ll do. Plus, we both know you rather socialize with the ladies-in-waiting at court.” I raise a brow.

  He nods and backpedals out of our path. “Indeed, your Highness. When will you grace us with your presence?”

  “Nightfall.” Not giving Lord Cedric a chance to respond, I dig my heels into Maverick’s side, signaling him forward. He moves into a gall
op, taking us around the corner toward the kingdom gates where my royal guard waits patiently with his noble steed.

  He nods through his gold armor, “Your Highness.”

  The gates screech open, and swiftly we move in front of the guard and his stallion. The guards at the gate bid us farewell, and Maverick’s gait transitions into a smooth canter down the snow-covered dirt path. As we head toward the rugged mountain terrain with the guard in tow, I wonder if this trip into the forest will give me the answers I seek?

  When we’ve reached my thinking spot in the heart of the forest, we get down from our horses, tie them to a tree and gather wood to build a fire. The snow continues to blanket the floor of the forest in thick sheets. As the grey smoke billows into the sky, I sit in front of the crackling flames to keep warm while he stands guard. That’s when we hear it. A strange screeching sound in the distance. The beat of wings. He draws his sword out of habit, and I place an arrow into my bow. A white blur comes into view, the large bird lands in the tree above us. Ice blue eyes so luminescent sear into mine, hypnotizing me with its presence. Squinting to get a better look at this magnificent creature, I notice a silver pattern around its left eye. Like some sort of birthmark unique only to this bird.

  My guard steps closer to the tree. “ Is that a—”

  “White hawk?” All the confidence leaves my voice as I ponder the possibility of a hawk let alone a white hawk inhabiting the forest of France. “This is unheard of.” I blink a few times. Maybe we are hallucinating? But the hawk remains perched on a tree branch above, it’s attention trained on me like I am prey. What did it come from?

  A snap of a twig draws our attention behind us. I am on edge, heart pounding. I unleash the arrow without thought and spear a deer right through its heart. It squeals in agony before hitting the snow. I turn to look up to find the hawk had vanished into thin air.

  Upon return, the guards celebrate my kill with a cheer.