The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom (9 page)

As it so happened, the kingdom of Avondell sat upon a seemingly endless chain of gold mines. Whichever nation managed to hook up with Avondell would become super rich. Gareth, the king of Erinthia, which sat just across the border (and therefore just out of reach of Avondell’s gold), wanted in on that. The treasure-hungry King Gareth suggested his then three-year-old son, Liam, as a worthy future husband for Princess Briar. Unfortunately, lots of other countries were itching for a shot at Avondell’s gold as well, and the competition for Briar Rose’s tiny hand was fierce. Little princes from around the world lined up to present themselves before the royal couple of Avondell—and each seemed to have a special skill. There was a tap-dancing toddler from Valerium and a baby from Svenlandia whose parents claimed he could “speak dolphin.” A four-year-old from Jangleheim absolutely rocked on the flügelhorn. And a five-year-old prince from Sturmhagen (one of Gustav’s brothers) demonstrated his ability to kick a chicken forty yards.

Afraid that little Liam wouldn’t stand out in the crowd, his father resorted to trickery. Just as Liam toddled out in front of the king and queen of Avondell, two masked assassins burst into the throne room. They were actually actors hired by Gareth, and each wore a cinnamon stick—young Liam’s favorite treat—tied around his boot. The two “assassins” positioned themselves between the preschool prince and the royal couple—and as soon as Liam excitedly grabbed at the cinnamon sticks on their legs, the actors proved how good they were at their craft. As the boy pulled and tugged at the sweets, the actors threw themselves around and howled in pain. They spun, flipped, and smashed into each other. To the rulers of Avondell it looked as if the three-year-old was beating the grown men senseless. When the royal guards reached the scene of the “fight,” little Liam was standing over two seemingly unconscious assassins, slurping happily on a cinnamon stick.

After that, there was no question as to which prince would be selected to wed Briar Rose. The king of Erinthia took his son home in triumph. The boy was treated to awards, parades, and festivals held in his honor. The two actors, by the way, were unable to prove their innocence and were locked away in an Avondellian dungeon for life, but King Gareth didn’t worry about that: He was going to be rich (well, rich
er
—he
was
already a king).

Young Prince Liam thrived on all the attention, though he was unsure of exactly why he was getting it.

“Why does everybody love me so much?” he asked his father.

King Gareth didn’t want to tell his son the truth—that, for the most part, the people of Erinthia were as greedy as their king was, and they cherished Liam because they knew he would someday make their nation unbelievably wealthy by marrying into the Avondell fortune. Instead he told his son, “Because you’re a hero.”

That was all Liam needed to hear. From that point on, he devoted himself to being a one-man army, on call to rescue anyone in need. And he was really good at it. He had strength, courage, agility, and natural skill with a sword. He even looked the part: tall and lean, with caramel-toned skin, bright green eyes, and lustrous, black hair that appeared permanently windswept.

Here’s what a typical day for Liam might be like: Breakfast; foil a burglary; lunch; rescue lost children from ferocious wolves; serve as guest of honor at ribbon-cutting ceremony for new blacksmith shop; dinner; carry frail grandmother from burning building; healthy snack; bed.

Fig. 11 Prince LIAM

Of course, Liam never realized it was all unnecessary, that he could have lolled about in a hammock all day, sipping juice from a coconut, and his people
still
would have idolized him—which was fortunate, because Liam’s reputation as a hero meant everything to him.

The one time Liam wasn’t around to stop a crime—when the legendary Sword of Erinthia, a priceless heirloom, was stolen from its display case in the royal museum—he prepared himself for the worst. He assumed the unending stream of praise and admiration would quickly dry up, so he gathered the citizenry to apologize to them all publicly. He was shocked to see that people arrived carrying signs that read,
WE HEART LIAM
. Somebody had even carved a butter sculpture of him. Seriously, they didn’t care about the heroics.

At least, they didn’t until the Sleeping Beauty incident. If Liam hadn’t come to the rescue there, the royal wedding would have been at risk. When an evil fairy put Princess Briar Rose—and all the people of Avondell—under a spell that would have kept them asleep for a hundred years, you’d better believe the people of Erinthia wanted Liam to head over there and save the day. Which he did, of course.

Liam tracked down the bad fairy, snuck up on her, and held her by the wings until she revealed that kissing Briar Rose would break the curse. Once he had the information he needed, Liam nobly released his foe. The fairy repaid this kindness by transforming herself into an enormous toothy demon and trying to bite Liam’s head off. After a long-drawn-out battle featuring backflips, body slams, karate chops, and even a few good horse kicks, he won the day by running the fairy-beast through with his sword.

One quick peck on the lips later, Briar Rose and her entire kingdom were eyes-open and celebrating.

The weeks that followed were among the happiest of Liam’s life. He was treated to parties and processions in both kingdoms, and a seemingly endless stream of awards and gifts. The only sore spot came when minstrels began spreading “The Tale of the Sleeping Beauty” far and wide. Liam had never been much of a fan of Erinthia’s royal songsmith, Tyrese the Tuneful—the man seemed too obsessed with singing about bad guys (“The Ballad of the Bandit King,” “The Giant Goes A-Smashing,” “The Bandit King Rides Again,” etc.) to bother writing songs about any of Liam’s heroic exploits. And now that he finally had, he managed to leave Liam’s name out of the story entirely. The prince was seriously irked but took solace in all the adoration he got from his hometown crowd.

After the hullabaloo finally died down, it occurred to Liam that he had never really spoken to Briar Rose other than to say, “Good morning. You can consider yourself rescued.” He was curious to know more about her. So he did something extremely rare: He sent her a note. Even more shocking, he suggested they meet. In person. Two people from different kingdoms—who are engaged to be married—seeing and talking to each other. Crazy, I know.

Liam sent a message suggesting that he and Briar meet in the Avondellian royal gardens and spend some getting-to-know-you time together. He was surprised when the princess’s reply came back reading, “What’s to learn? I know your name. I know where you live. Just be there on the wedding day.”

Liam decided to try again. His messenger returned to Avondell with a new note in which Liam eloquently and passionately explained why it was so important for him and Briar to truly know and understand each other before they got married. This time the response was slightly more positive: “Whatever.”

And so they met. Back when Liam had first seen the sleeping Briar Rose, he thought she was, indeed, a beauty (which made the whole kissing part somewhat easier). With pale white cheeks and thick, auburn curls that surrounded her head like an enormous, poufy halo, the princess had appeared soft and sweet, almost angelic. But as Liam walked into the rose garden that day and saw Briar standing with her hands on her hips, her brows arched, and her lips twisted into a tight knot, he was taken aback. Something seemed much harsher about her. Liam tried to overlook it and approached her with a gentlemanly bow.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” he said. “With the wedding only a few days away, I’m looking forward to getting to know the real you.”

Catching him completely off guard, Briar put both hands against his chest and pushed him down onto a nearby bench. “Listen up, hero,” she barked. “Don’t think that just because you offed some witch, you can take charge here.”

“She was a fairy, not a witch,” he said, stunned by Briar’s forcefulness. “And I’m not sure what you’re upset about.”

“I know you’ve got a pretty high opinion of yourself,” Briar said. “But that’s not going to fly with me. My parents raised me to be a proper princess. That means I get what I want, when I want it. In this marriage, you work for me.”

Liam was flabbergasted. “I work for the people,” he said. “I offer my services wherever I’m needed.”

“The people! Ha!” Briar snorted, whipping her impressive mane of curly hair. “The
people
are here to shine my tiaras and cook my puddings. I had to spend my entire childhood in hiding because of that stupid witch—”

“Fairy.”

“—and now that I’m finally in my rightful place, I’m going to start living like the princess I was meant to be. If I want entertainment, someone will dance for me. If I am thirsty, someone will give me their jug of water. If I want a cake, someone will use their last ounce of flour to bake me one. Watch this.”

Briar reached down and messily yanked handfuls of rare orchids up out of their flower beds. She crumpled the priceless blooms between her fingers and threw the broken stems and petals down onto the cobblestone path. “You know who’s going to travel to the farthest reaches of Kom-Pai and fight off venomous snakes in order to find new orchids for me?” she asked with a wicked grin. “The people.”

Briar strolled up to Liam and flicked a loose flower petal into his face. “What’s the matter, hubby? Speechless?”

Fig. 12 Princess BRIAR ROSE

“Don’t call me hubby,” Liam said, with a note of disgust. Even with all the monster battles he’d fought and death traps he’d escaped, this conversation was the single most unnerving experience he’d ever had. “You know, I’m not sure I want to marry you,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re mean.”

“Wah, wah,” she fake-cried. “Get a backbone, hero.”

“Please tell me this is some sort of joke.”

“You wanted the real me, you got it. Briar Rose doesn’t censor herself for anyone.”

“Then there’s no point to any of this,” Liam said sadly. “I can never love someone like you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, puppy. It’s common knowledge that I’m your true love.”

“According to whom?” Liam exclaimed. “The evil fairy who tried to kill us all?
She’s
the one who said ‘true love’s kiss’ would break the spell. But she also turned into a monster and tried to eat me. We’re supposed to take
her
word for it?”

“Blah, blah, blah, blah,” Briar mocked, opening and closing her hand like a puppet’s mouth. “You and I are still getting married. Our parents arranged this years ago. And you’re a real catch: You’re well liked, you come from a respected family, and you’re not too hard on the eyes. You’re just the kind of guy I want sitting on a throne next to me to make people feel safe and unthreatened before I turn their lives into nightmares.”

“I’ll never go along with this,” Liam insisted.

“It’s not like you have much of a choice in the matter. Face it, you’re stuck with me, Prince Charming.” Briar poked a finger into his chest with every syllable of
Prince-Charm-ing
, then sat down on a bench across from Liam and kicked her feet up onto a birdbath, knocking away a frightened wren as she did. “Now go peel me some kumquats.”

Liam walked away without a word, got on his horse, and headed back to Erinthia, where he gave word that he would be addressing the people that afternoon.

The citizens of Erinthia gathered by the thousands outside the royal palace, all eyes on the gold-trimmed marble balcony overhead, from which their prince would soon be addressing them. Applause broke out as a set of stained-glass doors opened wide and Liam strode out to greet the crowd. He wore a billowy blue tunic with black pants tucked into brown leather boots; there was a sword at his side, and a wine-colored cape fluttering behind him in the breeze. Before he spoke, Liam took a moment to gaze on the wildly enthusiastic audience below.
Who needs a wife
, he thought,
when I’ve got all these devoted fans?

Liam’s mother and father, Queen Gertrude and King Gareth, stepped out onto the balcony behind him. They were followed by Liam’s twelve-year-old sister, Princess Lila, who ran up and gave Liam a quick smooch on the cheek before retreating to the back of the balcony. Lila, who wore her chestnut hair in loose, dangly ringlets and liked to roll up the sleeves on the elegant gowns her parents forced her to wear, might have been young, but she was Liam’s closest confidante—and the only person in Erinthia who appreciated Liam for his actual good deeds. Yet even she didn’t know why Liam had scheduled this appearance.