Unmasking My Dark Knight
Prologue
EXCERPT FROM: UNMASKING MY brIGHT KNIGHT
Princess Isla could only hear the rustling of leaves as she escaped through the royal roses, fleeing the dreaded festivities of the moon-laden night. Twas a most uncivilized evening; a gathering on All Hallows’ Eve that repulsed the princess with her parents’ hidden intentions.
“I am no servant. Nor an accessory!” she seethed to herself, carrying forward to the northernmost area of the vast garden.
Though she festered confidently, her spirited heart began to crumble.
She knew, with quiet recognition, that she was no longer a woman of her own flesh and blood, but a bride to a prince who lived far away, in a land unknown.
At the behest of her mother—the queen, no less—the princess was forced to be married, leaving her future as hopeless and vacant as the night sky.
Armed only with her book, Princess Isla ventured alone into the dark, sequestering her sorrows below the weeping willow and sleeping roses where she sat.
She knew not to wallow so greatly, for her life was filled with insurmountable treasures; treasures, she realized, would never be as fulfilling as the stories she read.
She wished for them to come true.
True and as real as the flickering ships in the distance.
“May I join you?” a deep voice behind her asked.
Startled, Princess Isla gasped, raising her hand to her chest. She turned to see the familiar bright armor, glistening in the moonlight, a shining mask that hid eyes as blue as the ice in winter. It was Roman Knight. At long last, he was back.
“You’ve returned,” she whispered.
“Princess. You mustn’t be outside. It’s too dangerous,” he warned, dropping his shield, approaching her ever so gently.
“Dangerous without you, that is…” she said, feeling the wind sweep at her feet. He was no threat to her—not like the unknown prince. After all, she’d seen him through her window many times.
He stepped toward her, his metal armor clinking, anchoring something in her heart. The man was so heavy. So tall and strong. It was wrong for him to be here, wrong for him to approach with such carelessness. She could feel the heat of his body draw near.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked, mesmerized by the man in the mask, the mystery sent to save her. Roman Knight reached for her chin to tilt it upward. Princess Isla couldn’t look at him; he was far too intimidatingly handsome to catch eyes with.
“Oh, what beauty hides behind those secret eyes,” he whispered deeply into her soul, and she could hear that mischievous smile, sent to steal her away.