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mountaintop castle. She was so small in stature as to be remarkable, and she stood back from the group, a look of vague interest on her face, but nothing more. Richard sighed. At least she had some dignity, and he found himself hoping she would beat out the others.
    “Can we speak in private?” he asked his father.
    The king nodded. “Your mother wants to see you first.”
    “I’ve missed you both,” Richard admitted. He took a deep breath. “And the three of us need to talk.”
    When the three of them were seated in his parents’ chambers, with greetings exchanged and servants dismissed, Richard took a deep breath. “I found the woman I want to marry.”
    His parents both looked surprised. “Which girl is she?” his mother asked.
    “She’s not here.”
    “When do you expect her to arrive?” his father asked.
    “Actually, I’m not expecting her to arrive at all.”
    “Who is she?” the queen asked, her blue eyes sparkling intently. It was strange—with her porcelain skin, black hair, and blue eyes she looked nothing like Violet, and yet in some strange way he found similarities in them. He shook his head, wondering if because he loved her, he would always see Violet in every woman he knew.
    “Her name is Violet. Her father works a farm half a day’s ride from here, and she saved my life.”
    “I think you’d better start from the beginning,” the king said.
    Richard looked at his father. The king was several inches taller than him, with dark brown hair and a beard that always made him look like a lion. Richard had been told that while he had his mother’s looks, he had his father’s bearing. He took a deep breath anddrew himself up to his full height before beginning to tell them about the last few days.
    When he reached the conclusion, he stood, trying not to betray his agitation over what their response would be. They were both silent for a moment, and then his father cleared his throat.
    “Richard, grateful as we are to this young lady and her parents, we cannot allow you to marry her.”
    In his heart Richard had known that was how his father would respond, but he couldn’t control the anger that rose in him. “She is a stronger and nobler woman than any of the simpering princesses that are in this castle,” he said.
    “That might be, but you know that you have to marry a princess. We need a strong alliance with another kingdom,” his mother said.
    “We also need to solidify our position here,” his father said.
    Richard wished with all his heart that the old monarchs hadn’t been assassinated. Then he would be only a nobleman, not a prince, and he could have married the girl he wanted.
    “I’m sorry,” his father continued. “But it must be a princess. Now that you’re here, the competition will begin tomorrow.”
    “And what exactly is this competition of yours going to entail?” Richard asked through gritted teeth.
    “Six distinct challenges testing the sensitivity and nature of each princess. The princess who passes all the challenges will be your bride.”
    His fate sealed, Richard took his leave of his parents and headed for his room. He was halfway there when he heard joyous barking and turned to see a dog racing down the hall toward him.
    “Duke!”
    The dog leaped into his arms and licked his face, forcing him to laugh. “I missed you too, boy.”
    Together they continued to Richard’s chambers. A giant four-poster bed dominated the bedroom area. Furs covered the stone floors, and tapestries that had been woven commemorating the defeat of Lore graced the walls. He stood in front of the one that depicted the slaughter of the old king and queen. He had often stared at it, the royal family in their chamber, eyes wide in death. To the left, soldiers of Lore were leaving the room. To the right, several people stood grieving: servants, a woman with a child, soldiers. He and his parents featured prominently among the mourners. He turned away; the past couldn’t be changed,