Prince Aleksander Dunham didn’t particularly enjoy hunting. He loved horseback riding, the sense of freedom he could only get from pushing his gentle horse in full gallop, the world streaking by. He enjoyed spending time with his dogs, these obedient, intelligent hounds that were ready to defend him under any circumstance. He cherished spending time in the forest near his castle home,  away from expectations and rules and the pressures of social and political confinement. All these things together, however, were a tedious exercise at best.  Trying to keep up and keep track of his noisy dogs in dense thickets was a chore, and there was nothing thrilling about barreling through a forest chasing after some creature for the name of sport. But hunting was his father’s favorite pastime, and every adviser insisted that the kingdom, in wake of the king’s recent passing, would feel more at ease to have their future king take up normal castle activities, especially those of his father. It symbolized his preparedness to be king, they said.

Except he didn’t feel prepared at all.

Not knowing a tactful way to push aside their arguments, he agreed to at least try this sport, hosting it with a bunch of noblemen in an effort to keep relations with the aristocracy of the kingdom.

Unfortunately for the prince, these men had galloped off in one direction after a wild boar, while his dogs were after who-knows-what, something they could not ignore. He had no choice but to follow them, hoping that he could round them up and get them back on course with the other men…

Until a woman fell onto the middle of the road from a steep hill beside it. Aleksander yanked hard on the reigns of his horse to prevent the poor girl from getting trampled on.

The dogs, however, had other plans, switching their focus to the girl, barking and growling as they backed her against the hill. Aleksander found this highly unusual; his dogs were trained not to harm humans unless someone was trespassing in the castle. So why were they intimidating this helpless woman so far from home?

“Corvin, Spot, Manchester, heel!” Aleksander barked as he swung himself off his horse. The large beast shifted her weight nervously, also on edge over being near this woman. And the dogs ignored the prince entirely, something they had never done before.

He frowned, pushing back his dark, heavy cloak that framed a tall, lean figure dressed in a dark-brown leather tunic over a woolen undershirt, black trousers, and sturdy brown boots. He pushed back from his face some of the long, chestnut-brown hair that had gotten loose from the braid, grey-blue eyes narrowing as he assessed the cowering woman before him.

“Back, dogs, back!”

Only after he stepped beside the dogs did they cease their barking, pacing anxiously behind Aleksander, never taking their eyes off of the girl.

Aleksander thought her beautiful despite her disheveled appearance but thought little of this stranger’s beauty beyond that passing thought, more focused on how frightened she seemed. He gave his best warm smile as he took a few steps forward. “Please don’t be alarmed,” he said gently. “My dogs are just over excited. I’m here to help. Are you lost? Injured?”