Julian, valet and occasional bodyguard to a literal fairy tale prince, wants nothing more than to keep her job. However, that entails keeping anyone from finding out that she's female.
Prince Alberic, tall, blond, gorgeous, and more than a little sadistic, is not the only one of very few people aware of Julian's secret, but he fully intends to take advantage of it by making her his secret mistress—whether Julian wants to be one or not.
Ordered by his father the King, Prince Alberic and Julian take off for Lyoness and a Unicorn hunt to win a princess bride. However, not only are there two princesses instead of one—Rose Red and Snow White—there really is a unicorn, and that unicorn intends to claim both princesses for his own.
To make things more interesting, there is one more contender for the hands of the two princesses and their kingdom: a Black Sorcerer with a penchant for unleashing Monsters, and a deadly obsession.
And adding more to the mix—Julian…
The most beautiful boy I had ever seen turned to stare at me. His features were more delicate than a porcelain doll’s with eyes as green as grass. His slightly frowning lips were shiny and pale pink like wet rose petals. His waist-length golden hair was drawn back and tied negligently with a black velvet bow, the tail trailing over the shoulder of his gold velvet frock coat. Gold buttons marched down the front of the coat and along the edges of the huge bell sleeves. The coat’s cream satin broad lapels, bell sleeves, and flounced skirts were heavily embroidered in silver thread. His bow-tied velvet sash was as black as pitch.
I’d never seen anyone like him. He looked like an angel.
The angelic boy’s dark brows lowered over his grass-green eyes, and his frown deepened. “You don’t have time to play around with them.”
My mouth fell open. “What?” Was that supposed to make sense?
The girls just stood there in a half circle, stiff as boards with their eyes wide and their faces white.
He pulled the wide strap of his white leather shoulder bag from over his head “You’re supposed to carry my bag.” He tossed it at me, practically slamming it into my stomach and gave me the most beautiful and chilling smile I’d ever seen. “Make like a horse, peon.”
In that instant I knew that he might look like an angel, but clearly, he was the farthest thing from it. Out of sheer habit from years of doing this, that, and the other thing for just about everyone, I pulled the strap over my shoulder and settled the huge bag against my butt. “What’s a peon?”
The evil angel smirked. “Anyone that isn’t the prince.”
The prince? The prince? This was the king’s son? My jaw tried to hit the ground.
He grabbed the strap crossing my chest and towed me after him and away from the stunned pack of girls. There was a riding crop at the small of his back tucked into his black sash. “You may address me as your highness, not your majesty, that’s my father, or simply, prince. Got it, peon?”
I was still too stunned to think, never mind speak.
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Close your mouth or I’ll put something in it.”
God, what a brat! I curled my lip. “Yeah? Like what?”
“My boot, for one.” He gave me a chilling smile, his eyes narrowing. “Though I suppose I could find a pony bridle that would fit you.”
I shivered hard. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d actually put a bridle on me if it suited him. I raised both my hands. “No, thank you!”
He nodded firmly and dragged me off to a nearby bookseller’s booth where he promptly pointed at the largest and most expensive book they had on sale. “Wrap that up and charge it to the king.”
The crafter stuttered in gratitude then hurriedly wrapped the book up in brown paper and string. He then hefted the huge book with both hands and held it out.
The prince gave me a pointed look.
I took the book from the crafter and tucked it into the white leather bag.
The prince nodded and went on to the next crafter, then the next, then the next, selecting item after item, and charging it all to the king.
The bag on my shoulder got heavier and heavier. When not one more thing could be crammed into it, I resorted to carrying packages in my arms. When not one more thing could be crammed into my arms, pockets, or coat, I stopped in my tracks. “With all due respect, prince, I can’t carry one more thing.”
The prince turned from the leather crafter’s table and smiled. “Sure you can.” He lifted what appeared to be a very delicate and very ornate pony bridle. The crossbar to the bit was wrapped in leather. He turned back to the crafter. “Wrap the reins and bridle but give me the bit.”
I took one unsteady step back from the smiling prince. “You wouldn’t…?”
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