The Marked Princess
Book One of the Shendri Series
E.P. Stavs
Copyright © 2020 E.P. Stavs
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 9798663237017
Cover design by: The Cover Collection
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
A brother and sister sit on opposite sides of an orangish-brown, tiled counter, matching composition notebooks spread open before them as they attempt to weave thoughts into stories.
You inspired me then, and you inspire me now.
This one's for you, Blake.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Like what you read?
Acknowledgement
About The Author
The Shendri Series
Chapter One
Her royal highness, Josselyn deLure, crown princess and future queen of all Eldour, was up a tree. A rather splendid cherry tree, with long, strong branches that were just right for lounging on. A gentle breeze played with the strands of thick, chestnut hair that had long since escaped the confines of their coiffure and fell haphazardly around the princess' face.
“Did you see that? That one must have gone forty feet, at least.”
Perched beside her on this fine summer's day was her childhood friend and partner in crime, Edmund Brandt. Or, more formally, Sir Edmund of Bridgewater, as he had recently been knighted. Josselyn preferred a rather less formal Sir Eddie of the Bog Water, in remembrance of the time he'd fallen into a bog while showing off how well he could walk backwards on his hands.
They were currently in the middle of a competition to see who could spit their cherry pit the farthest. Josselyn puckered her lips and shot her pit out with gusto.
“Ha! Right into the rosebushes. I win! ”
She grinned at Edmund in triumph, and he huffed in mock annoyance, running a hand through his artfully disheveled brown hair.
“And just how am I supposed to concentrate on distance, when you have cherry juice running all down your face? Have some dignity, I beg of you. Royalty, indeed.”
Josselyn wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her tunic, then stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes at him. “How's this? Better?”
Edmund chuckled. “Much.”
The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their banter. Alex Grey, Josselyn's personal guard, stood at the bottom of the tree and looked up at the two of them with his usual, serious expression.
Tall and lean, with a quiet air that belied the strength of the man beneath the uniform, he would have been considered handsome if it weren't for the ragged, four inch scar that marred the right side of his olive-toned face.
“Your presence is required at the castle, Your Highness. The envoy from Antos has arrived, and Lady Merridale wishes to see you before you meet with them.”
Josselyn snorted. “See me, indeed. More like dress me up like a prized peacock.”
She looked over at Edmund, who was grinning at her without sympathy and narrowed her eyes. “And what about you? Don't you have some sort of noble deed you should be attending to, Sir Edmund?”
He laughed. “Nah, I'm good.”
Alex looked up at him with hard eyes. “I have to agree with Her Highness. I'm sure your presence would be better served elsewhere.” His eyes narrowed. “Anywhere else, really.”
Edmund's laughter turned into a sneer.
“And leave Joss's safety in the hands of some gypsy orphan who can barely keep track of her? Her father may be blind to your ineptitude, but I've known Joss since she was running around here in nappies. She needs someone more dependable than you by her side.”
Alex's jaw clenched, and he looked as though he might knock Edmund right out of the tree, when Josselyn turned to Edmund and punched him in the arm.
“Don't be an ass. Alex is the finest guard in the kingdom. He gives me space because he understands me, but he always knows where I am. Isn't that right, Alex?”
“As you say, Your Highness.”
Up in the tree, Edmund grumbled, rubbing his arm, but his expression soon lightened as he reached over to give an errant strand of Josselyn's hair a gentle tug.
“I get it. Alex is the epitome of dependability. I believe I shall commission a statue to be made in his honor, to watch over these gardens for centuries to come.”
“You know, that may be just what this garden needs. Where would you place it? Beside the roses, perhaps?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a nice patch of skunk cabbage.”
Alex cleared his throat. “Lady Merridale seemed quite insistent that you come straight away, Your Highness.”
Josselyn sighed. “Guess I'd better get going.” She looked over at Edmund. “Sparring tomorrow?”
“I can if we meet early enough. Contrary to some people's opinions, I do actually keep fairly busy around here.”
With that, he swung down off the branch and lifted his arms up toward Josselyn with a cheeky grin.
“Milady.”
Josselyn rolled her eyes, hooking her legs over the branch and swinging so that she hung upside down like a bat. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked at the two men now standing in front of her.
“And just whom is this lady of which you speak? Surely, you aren't referring to me.”
Grabbing the branch with her hands, she swung down to the ground, landing with catlike grace.
“I'm
