The Hunchback's Reluctant Bride ✔

1 | One Truth

1 | One Truth

Wyrn knew one truth. It was the only truth his father'd ever tell him. Most nights, he bustled around the long wooden table, as his father's ale-reeking tall stature came stomping in from a hunt. The old man scanned his seven sons with pride until his eyes settled on Wyrn. And most nights, his father dropped the pelts on the floor but did not look as his wife hurried to snatch them up. Instead, he'd allow his gaze to linger on Wyrn for a long minute before speaking.

He never mentioned Wyrn's uneven top lip, born looking as if it was cut clean through and healed that way. He never talked about Wyrn's deep blue eyes, arguably, his only charming feature He never even mentioned Wyrn's small size. He was five to five though his brothers all towered over most men—well above six.

No. By the fading sunlight at his back, he'd say but one thing—the one truth.

"Hmp. If you're to get a wife—you'd have to steal one."

A hush fell over their small house. When he entered, no one spoke unless spoken to. No one but Wyrn who did not speak even then.

Wearing his hair long was Wyrn's only revenge. As his father had hardly a strand above his ears, despite the remnants of his once strong red mane now clinging to the sides and back. Wyrn's brown hair hid most of his unpleasant features. With its length, it even hid his mouth at times. It did not, however, hide his size.

Those meals were a long ways off now as Wyrn, riding his small cart, watched the head of his donkey as she pulled him through the dank city. Smooth cobblestones led the way from the main highway. A myriad of awful smells mixed with one another were the least of his worries. He had but one aim, the palace.

A number of carts filled with apples bustled beside him then veered off to market. From his own rickety wagon, his eyes followed one, curious.

He'd never eaten a fruit. Mother never allowed it. The one time he'd made the attempt, she'd snatched it away; her voice followed him even now.

"And when you lose your teeth on top of everything else, what will you do then? Hmm, Wyrnol, what will you do then? Who will love you then?"

Reins in hand, he flicked them once and the ass picked up speed. Animals were easier to be around. They were pleasant.

The tournament would end today but he could travel no faster than he moved now.

Besides, he wasn't going to the palace with victory in mind, only...self-assurance.

This was his life, he'd known, and his mother never asked anything of him but this.

"Why don't you try? You need but try at least," she'd said.

Perhaps she knew something about him he did not. He reached the drawbridge and instantly regretted his foolish decision to honor his promise to her.

The moat seemed deeper than the very deepest pit of hell.

When he urged the donkey on, several men, walking tall with their swords on their backs, glanced at him now and then. More than one laughed but that didn't matter so much.

He was only here for a promise. Once inside the palace walls, the houses and shops impressed him. This wasn't the farm but the city.

"Hunchback," someone called. "Hunchback!"

Wyrn ignored whoever it was.

It was best not to engage others.

He tried to dismount is cart, but something grabbed him by the back of his shirt and dragged him to the ground. The cobblestone hurt but he did not even wince.