A Revolting Date

"What did you say?" Megan demanded, her steely gaze laser focused under a furrowed brow.

Brad knew he'd messed up, but he had no idea how. This woman was too complicated. He couldn't even compliment her without it somehow becoming an insult. "I said you're beautiful," he choked, his mind racing to find a way out. They sat across from each other at a little outdoor table where they were waiting for dinner to be served. The cool evening air did nothing to help the cold sweat that was collecting on his forehead.

"That's not what you said."

"Well, I mean, I think we belong together, you know? You're gorgeous and I'm..." but something told him it was already over.

"Go on," she said indignantly. "Finish that sentence."

He could almost hear the words "I dare you" in the look she leveled at him.

This can't be happening, he thought. His father's stern, disapproving face loomed in his mind, constantly judging him. The weight of the family's expectations made him groan inwardly as his stomach churned at the thought of what would have to come next.

She sat back and folded her arms, glaring at him. "Go on," she challenged. "I want to hear you say it again."

Brad looked around nervously. Her father's palace garden was dimly lit by a few nearby torches. Aside from the server who would undoubtedly be bringing their food out soon, he couldn't see anyone else around.

His gut gurgled and twisted in on itself, but not from hunger. He felt ill. She was not into him. Three weeks of courting and calling on her and still she remained just as cold and hostile as she had on the first day. Her father supported the courtship for political reasons, but Megan was so vehemently opposed to it that no amount of charm or persuasion was getting him any closer to accomplishing his task.

She bored into him with a fiery, fierce stare that made him clench his jaw and shift in his seat. He'd have to be quick, before any of the serving staff came out. In his mind he plotted an exit route through the garden to where his horse would be waiting. He narrowed his eyes at her, his heart pounding. This was it. He had to kidnap her.

***

Cassian took a deep breath. He checked the serving tray one last time, making sure every detail was perfect. He knew the princess's every preference. Not too much garnish, extra sauce, juicy meats, soft bread. He'd been serving her since she came of age, and nothing brought him more satisfaction than her smile when he remembered how she liked her cheese or that she always wanted at least three napkins just in case.

Closing his eyes, he focused. Sometimes her beauty was too much for him. It made him feel incredibly foolish, and he could never admit it to anyone, but he often dreamed that she would notice him as more than just a friendly, attentive servant. He imagined her smiling at him and saying, "It's Cassian, right? Would you like to join me for dinner tonight instead of this brutish, idiotic nobleman my father wants me to marry?" He let out a long, frustrated sigh and picked up the tray, checking his posture before shoving his way through the heavy door that led out to the gardens.

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest and he stopped short in his tracks, taking in the baffling scene before him. The table had been thrown to the side and lay in three splintered pieces. The chairs were knocked over. The princess and her suitor were gone! His mind immediately began to race through the possible explanations. He started positive. What if they just went for a walk? But his eyes were drawn to the smashed table. The overturned chairs demanded a different story be told. So he pictured the evil nobleman tackling the princess to the ground and running off with her. He hadn't heard anything from inside, but the kitchen had been noisy and... he felt lightheaded and sick. He was shaking. Yet he held the tray as steady as he could while he thought.

It didn't take long. He rushed back into the kitchen and set the tray down. "Alex," he said, grabbing his friend by the arm and locking eyes with him. "Get a message to the king. Princess Megan has been kidnapped by the duke's son Brad." Immediately he took off through the kitchen heading toward the courtyard stables.

"Wait!" Alex called out. "What did you say? Really?"

There was no time to clarify. The princess was in danger. Cassian knew the way to the duke's castle. He knew it was a long ride.

***

Six hours later the guards outside Brad's father's castle were shouting excitedly as they raised the gate for him. The soft roar of torches crackled in the night as his horse rushed under the iron bars of the gatehouse. He'd ridden hard to get home quickly, just in case he'd been followed. He'd stopped briefly a few minutes out from the palace to tie Megan's hands and feet and gag her, a necessary pitstop to prevent her from mauling him to death on the way, but otherwise he'd ridden straight through the dark night, positive he'd just started a war.

Brad jumped to the ground and unloaded Megan's petite, struggling body. She was tense and continued to fight while he threw her over his shoulder and made his way toward his father's bedchamber. He knew the old man would still be awake. His heart pounded furiously as he made his way through the castle. He couldn't think clearly. He wasn't sure of much, but he knew one thing for certain: he would succeed at the task he'd been given.

Baffled servants hurriedly threw open their lord's sleeping chamber door as Brad marched passed carrying his captive princess.

"Brad," his father croaked, sitting up in bed. Two young women popped up from beneath the covers with wide eyes and looked to his father. He nodded to them and motioned for them to lie back down as he gave a hand to one of them. "What on earth is going on? Is that the princess you've been courting?"

"It's no use father," Brad said, struggling to keep her draped over his shoulder. His head rocked about violently as she twisted and squirmed. He had to raise his voice over her muffled protests. "If you want me to produce an heir to the throne, this is the only way."

His father squinted at Brad and a slow, weary smile spread over his thin, pale lips. "Fine," he said. "Just be careful how you proceed after you're done with her." He chuckled. "You're likely to start a war."

To Brad's surprise, his father seemed almost proud of him. He allowed a stern, faint smile to crack as he turned and left, dragging the betrayed princess up to a room high in the castle's tallest tower.

***

Cassian saw the tiny twinkling lights of the castle up ahead and felt as though the wind had been knocked from his lungs. This is stupid, he thought. He had no plan. He had no weapon. He had no training with the sword or the bow. He was pretty sure he was going to die. But his wildly pounding heart urged him on. This was his princess. He *had* to try.

He knew he'd never make it in through the front gate, so he guided his horse off the path before he was within view of the guardhouse and made his way around to the side. Eventually he was riding along the tall outer wall, looking for a way up. He wished he'd brought a rope or a knife or anything that could be useful. His horse trotted along between the trees of the forest, taking a wide arc around the dark, foreboding castle.

Something in the cool night air caught his ear. He quietly drew the horse to a halt and waited. He heard it again, but clearer. It was a high pitched chirp, or a whistle. Confused, he scoured the top of the castle wall, looking to see if perhaps a guard had spotted him. He could see no guards, no movement, only... his eye was strongly drawn to a long, thin strand of something swaying along the wall.

"No way," he breathed, squinting into the distance. "It can't be." He softly spurred his horse toward the castle wall, crossing the clearing quickly. A moment later he was holding the end of a rope that he could barely grab from atop his horse. It hung a good ten feet off the ground, swaying in the breeze. Was it a trap? An oversight? He tugged on it, and it held firm.

It didn't take him long to decide. He had to climb the rope. It was his only hope of helping the princess.

***

Princess Megan bounced violently on the stiff mattress as Brad threw her down harshly and growled at her. "The more you fight the harder this will be for both of us. You can make this easy, or you can make this hard and painful. It's your choice." He kicked off his belt and trousers and climbed onto her, grabbing her tied hands and holding them high over her head, the weight of his body digging painfully into her thighs. "I'm going to untie your feet because I want to see your pretty face, but if you give me trouble I have no problem tying you up and bending you over a chair, got it?"

She glared at him with hatred and wrath. She wasn't about to cooperate, but letting him think she'd cooperate meant he might untie her feet. She wondered what else he might untie if she were extra cooperative. She smiled through the gag and relaxed her body, tilting her head to the side seductively while his eyes widened and he grinned.

"That's a good girl," he said. "It seems you can be reasoned with."

***

At the top of the rope Cassian looked around nervously before heaving himself onto the ramparts. To his shock he found a loaded crossbow sitting by his landing spot with a few extra bolts. He glanced up and down the length of the walkway again but saw nobody. Thoroughly confused, he had no time to ponder his good fortune. If it was a trap, he had no choice but to walk right into it and die. He would die for princess Megan, without a doubt. But he would die trying to free her.

He glanced over his shoulder once more before swiftly starting toward the nearest tower. Just as he took his first steps though he heard the whistle again, but behind him. There was a tower a little further away in the other direction and the sound seemed to come from there. Briefly he considered ignoring it, but if the source of the whistle was a friend, he could certainly use the help.

He turned around and rushed to the other tower. He found the door slightly ajar and ducked inside quickly. A hushed voice said, "hurry, follow me," and a dark figure began to ascend a nearby staircase.

"Wait," Cassian said. "Who are you?"

The figure stopped and turned around. From underneath a hooded cloak he looked up and saw a middle-aged woman's face looking down at him. "I am no-one. I am one of many here at the castle who have been planning to rise up against the evil duke and his son for many months. Unfortunately, the others did not feel ready to revolt tonight, so it is just you and me. Will you help me kill the duke and his son to liberate the castle?"

"I'm here to rescue the princess," he stammered. "I'm not a knight or a hero, I'm a lowly servant."

"I know," the woman whispered, smiling. "But you have a noble heart. Help me, and I will help you free the princess. Hurry, we don't have much time."

***

Brad's thick, grimy fingers slid eagerly along Megan's calves as he tossed the rope aside. He stopped briefly to feel the deep impression left by the coarse rope on her soft ankles and a twinge of guilt stabbed at his heart. She had gone so docile and soft. He looked down at her lustily, eager to get on with it but wanting so much more than what had to be done. She was so beautiful, so lovely. He wanted to remove the gag and untie her hands, but he... well maybe?

"Do you want it?" he asked, hesitating. "Do you want to know the pleasures of love? This doesn't have to be difficult. It could be enjoyable." He straddled her and bent over her face, caressing her soft cheeks and admiring her bright eyes. She held a steady gaze, searching his eyes as though she had something to say. His fingers twitched. He wanted so badly to kiss her lips, to feel her womanly delights in the way he'd always dreamed of enjoying her.

Behind him he thought he heard something. He looked over his shoulder and stared at the door a moment, but the princess mumbled something through her gag. He turned back to her just as the door behind him flew open. Swiftly, the princess brought a powerful knee up between his legs, smashing his manhood. He doubled over in agony, crying out as she rolled beneath him and out from underneath his knee. He slowly sat up and took a powerful punch to the chest, accompanied by a searing, piercing pain. Looking down, he saw a crossbow's bolt sticking out of his chest, right over his heart.

His eyes widened as his vision faded. He looked up at the door again, his chest on fire and watched as a cloaked figure rushed to the princess and a scrawny, spindly servant glared at him holding a crossbow.

***

With her hands untied, the princess rushed to Cassian and threw her arms around him. "Thank you," she said, holding him tightly and trembling. "I was sure I was..." she choked and buried her face in his neck, warm tears flowing down his skin under his tunic. He dropped the crossbow and held her, his heart pounding uncontrollably in his tight, breathless chest.

"Come," the older woman urged. "We must kill the duke before the guards are aroused."

The princess slowly stepped back from Cassian and looked over her shoulder at Brad's lifeless body, which was now slumped over on its side. She stooped and picked up the crossbow. To Cassian's surprise she quickly grabbed one of the spare bolts he'd tucked into his belt and expertly loaded the crossbow, though not without some trouble. He wanted to help, but he was sure he wasn't strong enough. Soon though, she raised it proudly and with a determined look in her eye said, "I want to do it."

***

The ride back to the palace was pleasant. Cassian was sure he'd never been so tired in his life, yet despite heavy eyelids and a weak, exhausted body, he also had never felt so alive in his entire life. The princess held on to him close, her body firmly pressed against his while he sat up proudly in the saddle. She rested her head against his back and he wondered if perhaps she had fallen asleep.

Liberating the duke's territory from his evil reign was, of course, just the beginning. Surely the land would descend into unstable chaos for a few years, but nobody would be sad to see the duke and his son gone. The princess, in particular, had been happy to put a bolt through the man's eye. Even his concubines hadn't shed a tear at his passing. And once the duke was dead, the old woman's resistance fighters had quickly rallied together to take the rest of the castle without much resistance.

But none of those concerns occupied Cassian's mind long. Instead, all he could think of was the princess and the last thing she'd said to him before going into a silent slumber with her arms wrapped around his chest. Those quiet, simple words had changed his entire world, and now his mind was obsessing over every syllable she'd uttered through those soft, sleepy lips. "I think I shall make you a knight so that we can be wed, my dear Cassian."