Thanks go to Likes2ReadErotica for his editing and suggestions in making this story better!
Sir Jamie wiped the sizzling dragon's blood from his sword with the hem of his midnight tunic. The great beast lay before him, its skin burning from the inside out as the fire within blazed. A man could find great glory in dragon slaying, but only if there were witnesses. Soon, the body of the defeated serpent would be nothing more than ashes littered across the stone courtyard, leaving him no trophy to bring home and declare his victory. There was not a single soul for miles who could have attested to his triumph, but Jamie didn't give a damn. The dragon was not the trophy he had come for.
The seventh son of the second wife of a minor lord, Sir Jamie had very little prospects. He had spent his youth training as a knight, participating in tournaments where his liege lord, his father, had taken most of the spoils. By the time Jamie had earned enough money to buy a good horse, armor and sword of his own, he was nearing thirty, and all his brothers had become wealthy in trade, or by murdering the eldest for his inheritance. Not one to engage in fratricide, Jamie had fled as soon as he was able, hating that his second and third eldest brothers had profited from his winnings for two whole years. Now, however, he was about to rise above them all, and claim both power and wealth unimaginable.
Turning to the long stairway leading into the castle, Jamie made note of the tallest tower in the eastern wing. That was where he was sure to find his treasure, his destiny. Entering the great hall, it took him a moment to figure out which path would lead to the tower. The castle was more elaborate than he was used to, with many rooms, but eventually he found the door leading to the long spiral staircase. He began the long climb upward, surprised to find several rooms on his way up.
Four stories later, and with his heavy armor shed on the second landing, he finally reached the uppermost chamber. The room was beautiful, with thick, woven tapestries of roses and unicorns hung throughout, and gold gilded oaken furniture upholstered in richly embroidered silk. A large canopied bed dominated the space, and Jamie strode forward, eager to pull back the curtains. Finally, his time had come.
Songs had been written extolling the beauty of the sleeping princess. In the hundred years she had been captive in her magical prison, many knights had tried, and failed, to breach the thorny grove and slay the mighty dragon, to earn the reward of a rich kingdom and a famed beauty. Jamie suspected that the bards had overplayed the story, since it seemed unlikely anyone would ever prevail.
He expected to find a modest looking girl with whom he could tolerate producing an heir to his new kingdom. Even if she were bucktoothed and knock-kneed he didn't care, so long as she made him king. Hell, even if she'd aged the hundred years, and was now an old crone, he'd take her. What mattered was that he would be raised higher than any man in his native Anwyndale. The lands around the castle were wild and untamed, but rich. None had dared try to sow them, as the first few who had tried were stricken with a series of misfortunes. The land was cursed, until the princess was freed. And now Jamie stood at the bedside, ready to do his duty, and plant a kiss upon whatever sleeping form he found.
When he pulled the curtain aside Jamie could do nothing but stare for several long moments. After a time, he realized his mouth was hanging open, and he snapped it shut, swallowing hard. The bards, it seemed, had not exaggerated. Laying on the soft, white sheets was a girl, just barely a woman, of exquisite beauty. Her hair was a variant of rich gold and copper strands, spilling well beneath the covers that were pulled up to her waist. Her finely arched brows sat above pale, translucent eyelids, with long black lashes settled against high, flush cheekbones. Her petite nose, nostrils flaring ever so slightly in her slumber, trailed to her lush Cupid's bow mouth, her lips a deep rose that stood in sharp contrast to her pale skin and golden tresses.
