It was love at first sight. Until he knew better.
Ten years ago, when Dane was but a young bastard lad of twenty, he fell in love with the most beautiful girl these lands had ever seen—in his eyes, at least.
Amidst a field of spring blooms, her sleek hair of midnight black drew in the light, as if she alone could eclipse the sun and moon and stars. And when she turned and gave him the slightest curve of those lips, as red as roses, he reciprocated her smile with all of his heart.
'Twas irrational, but he was besotted; blind and crazed like every other inexperienced, lovesick fool who believed infatuation in beauty could sustain a lifetime of trials and tribulations.
He really should have washed his eyeballs then and there.
Instead, he wooed her, lusted after her. He couldn't even recall now how she'd responded. Was she timid and meek as society expected young maidens to be? Or was she conceited and haughty, adhering to the unspoken norm for noble ladies? He couldn't recall, because none of that mattered.
Her soft brown eyes with flecks of gold dominated his every waking moment and dreams. That was enough for a shallow young man to ask her father for her hand.
Though he was an unfavoured bastard son of King Theodore, he was still a prince, and a royal union was better than none. That was enough for the Viscount and Viscountess of Melina to give their daughter to the youngest illegitimate prince of the kingdom.
Like all helplessly lovesick fools, he did not appreciate until too late that he'd confused lust with love, and lust lasted only so long.
Because as it turned out, he could not love a wife who was dumb, and she was as dumb as a dumb wife could be.
Perhaps if he'd remained a bastard prince forever, he could cast aside his personal desire and force himself to tolerate an unwanted, useless marriage.
But ten years into his marriage, in an unexpected turn of events, he was legitimised as crown heir and acceded the throne as King Dane. A bastard prince no more. And as king, he needed a queen with more than haystacks for a brain.
He had a new life ahead of him. A life of power and rule and games that had no place for an incompetent queen by his side. It would only have exposed him and the kingdom to danger should enemies and opportunists discover that his queen was nothing but a pretty, empty-headed doll who could be manipulated as easily as dangling a bone in front of a starved dog.
So he divorced her.
Of course, she did not understand. She cried and protested, as expected. She left his bedchamber in tatters, as expected. But in the end she was duly escorted back to her family's estate. Escorted out of his life for good—or so he thought.
Three months into his reign, just as he was getting accustomed to his new life as king, the last thing he expected was to wake up one morning with that dumb woman's body draped over his. Nude.
YOU ARE READING
Bride to the Cursed: a Snow White retelling
Fantasy[COMPLETED] When a king makes an order, he expects it to be followed. When King Dane divorced his wife, he expected her to get out of his sight and stay out of his sight. Not reappear three months later in his bed, spouting nonsense about being a 'l...
