A bead of sweat formed on the princess's temple. She sat across from her kingdom's most trusted advisor--Bellus--a fat mustachioed man in his forties who was practically a second father to her. Bellus had no official standing or holding within the kingdom beyond Royal Aid, but he carried more sway and influence than those who inherited or were appointed.
Princess Miriam's father--the king--was bedridden, his health deteriorating over the last many moons. "It's time for you to take over for me, darling," the king said to her from his bed weeks before. His breath was short. Princess Miriam held his hand. He finally caught his breath after a fit of coughing and said, "Bellus will be there to help. Trust him, and it'll all work out."
The candles on the table flickered as Princess Miriam and Bellus sat at the centuries-old wooden table in the Council Room.
"Is there nothing else we can do? My kingdom's reputation is at stake. No one will want to trade with us, and my people are scared. We've offered enough gold for a man to fund a rival kingdom. We've brought in a so-called slayer from the Sumar Isles. We'll run out of brave fools soon enough, and then we'll have nothing to hope for."
Bellus stroked his mustache and stared at Miriam. A slight smile came to his face. "I do have one last idea... But I'm afraid you're not going to like it."
"Stop being coy, Bellus, and just tell me. I'd do anything at this point to protect my people, whatever the cost."
"All right, my grace. But first, promise me you won't dismiss me flippantly. It is, after all, just an idea."
"Gods, what do you have in mind? Fine, fine, I promise."
"There is one thing we can offer that no one else has. Something that will inspire bravery beyond compare. An offer those not stupid enough to risk their lives yet would gladly throw away everything for. Something no amount of gold can buy."
"My hand? Bellus, are you mad? We'd be throwing away a chance to make a lasting alliance with any number of powerful kingdoms."
"No, my dear, not your hand..."
"Then... what?"
"Your maidenhood."
The candles flickered as the air in the room changed. The princess's face turned bright red. She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up.
"Bellus! How dare you!"
"An idea, just an idea, your grace."
"No one would want to marry a princess who is not a maiden. My people will think I'm a slut!"
"The reward will not be known to all. And we can make sure our hero speaks no word of it. Craxam can brew just the potion..."
"I-I-I wouldn't even know what to do."
"It is quite simple, your grace. Pardon my crudeness, but you suck, you fuck, you make him come, and it'll be over before you know it."
"My father would never approve of this! He'd have your tongue just for suggesting it."
"But your father's not here."
"I've dreamed of that night my entire life, and you want me to give it away as a reward as if it's something that can be exchanged? Have you no respect for me, Bellus?"
"I don't see any other options. People are fleeing and dying faster than their giving birth. No one wants to move here, it's too dangerous. Trade has all but dried up to a trickle. The future of the kingdom is at stake. Your grace, you must do this for your people, for your kingdom."
Princess Miriam sat back down and put her head in her hands.
"Fine, for my kingdom," she said. "Make it so."
• • •
Word spread through the kingdom and beyond of the princess's reward. No one knew exactly what it was, and most assumed it was her hand in marriage or her family's most treasured item--the black greatsword called Obsidian. It took weeks for the word to spread far enough to find new heroes who'd risk their lives against such an adversary. But they began to eventually show up again.
• • •
"Have you any updates on the situation?" Princess Miriam asked Bellus in the Council Chamber.
"An elderly wizard set off and was never heard from again. A young, queer witch from the north told the innkeeper one morn that she would be back in time for dinner but was never heard from again. There have been mournings of others, but none with any success. Be patient, my princess. It will take time for the right people to hear word and make the journey and do the work. We cannot rush it."
"Yet we cannot afford to wait much longer. Or there will be no kingdom worth saving."
"True enough, your grace. But patience for now."
• • •
Princess Miriam sat in her father's chamber, gripping his hand. "Stay strong, father. Is there anything I can get you?"
"No," he whispered, his voice hoarse. She could hardly hear him.
Craxam handed her a bottle with a viscous blue liquid inside. "Help him drink this, princess."
"Have you and Bellus taken care of the problem?" the king asked.
"We're doing everything we can, Father, I promise."
The king squeezed her hand, the first sign of strength she'd seen in him in weeks. "My legacy is at stake. Your legacy is at stake. Do what must be done, darling."
"Yes, father. I will."
The king drifted off to sleep, his lips stained blue.
• • •
Bellus burst into Princess Miriam's bedchamber, which was larger than most of her subjects' entire homes, his face pink, panting, and sweating profusely.
"Your grace, your grace!"
"Yes, Bellus?"
"They've done it, they've done it! Your audience," he paused to catch his breath. "Is requested in the throne room. They've something to show you. Gods, they've done it!"
"They, what do you mean, they?"
"It's a group of them, they're waiting for you right now."
"My dear, sweet Bellus. There is no way to split the reward like a sack of gold for them. How will this even work? Do they have a leader?"
"Yes, yes. We will sort it out. I'm sure one of them did most of the work. Let's hear what they have to say first."
