Page 25 of A Curvy Girl for the Prince

“Wait, but I don’t want to leave my friend! Besides, didn’t you already win? Can’t we liberate these women from their indentured servitude?” she asks, gesturing to the field of hunched figures hacking at the soil.

I nod.

“Yes, that’s the plan,” I reply in a dry voice.

As if on cue, suddenly a line of warriors appears on the horizon, their heavy forms clad in the latest high-tech armor, bearing spears, stun guns, and who knows what other weapons. Matilda stares, her mouth falling open.

“I suppose those are your friends?” she asks in a trembling voice. I look over my shoulder and smirk.

“That’s right,” he growl. “It’s the Lysenian Army.” Then, I seize the beautiful woman’s eyes with my own. She’s never been more appealing at this moment, and I want nothing more than to ravish her. Yet, there are words that need to be said, and I can’t wait any longer. “Matilda, this might not be the right time to make a declaration, but I’m going to do it anyways. I’m impressed with you, honey. You’re courageous, brave, intelligent, sassy and far more than a whore from the House of Silk. In fact, you aren’t even a whore,” I add on a second thought. “You’re an incredible woman who’s found her way into my life, and I admire and want to get to know you better.”

But Matilda’s no fool.

“What does that mean?” she asks as the army literally begins advancing, the stomp of horse hooves a rumble in the distance.

I stare at her.

“I want to date,” I rasp in a low voice. “I want to get to know you without Nerilda in the picture, and I want you to stop seeing other men.”

She smiles at me, her brown eyes sparkling.

“But I never saw other men, Haakon. Not really. Not when I was with you.”

“Good,” I growl in a rough voice. “Because I’ll tear them to pieces if you do, Matilda. If you so much as even smile at another man, he’s going to be dog meat.”

She giggles then, her curls blowing in the wind.

“Really?” she asks.

I nod.

“I have a battle to fight now, as well as a horde of women to liberate, but I want you to know, Matilda. You are mine, and no other man will claim you. You belong to me.”

Then, I lean forward and press a swift kiss to those plush lips. It’s awkward because we’re both mounted on droids, but I don’t care. Her mouth parts beneath mine sweetly, and I know with absolute conviction that this is right. This sassy, impossible, curvy, intelligent woman is mine, and I want her to know it. Suddenly, a clarion call sounds behind us, its notes ripping through the air.

“You best be going,” Matilda breathes after breaking away. “I think your army needs you.”

I nod, my eyes boring into her like penetrating blue lasers.

“They do,” I rasp. “But I need you too. Wait for me, baby. Take yourself over to the tent there, and I’ll come collect you after the fighting is done.”

Then, I kiss Matilda again, her sweet form pressing against mine despite our awkward positions. But there’s a promise on my lips, and she smiles beneath my mouth.

“Go, Highness,” she whispers. “I’ll wait for you.” With that, I raise my staff, ready for the battle to begin. After all, I’ve already won Matilda Seacrest, and that’s the sweetest victory of all.

EPILOGUE

Matilda

“So what’s going to happen once you return to America?” I ask Darcy. We’re relaxing on couches in my sitting room, while snacking from a tray of cookies and sandwiches. The light glimmers from a castle window, and a gentle breeze wafts in, rustling our curls.

It’s crazy because who would have foreseen me, Matilda Seacrest, snacking on dainty finger sandwiches made from cucumber and mayonnaise? I used to be a serving wench here at the palace, wielding my mop while waiting hand and foot on the noblewomen. But now, I’m treated like royalty, and life is wonderful. I live with Haakon in his quarters, and am officially recognized as his consort by those who matter.

After all, Haakon made sure to introduce me to his father after the rescue from the Colonies.

“This is Matilda,” the handsome prince growled, still bloody from battle. “LadyMatilda,” he corrected.

“I see,” King Fjall murmured, steepling his fingers while looking at me with watery blue eyes. “And which house do you come from?”