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There was a man in the cow pasture, bothering the cows.
There was a very large man, petting the cows and letting them lick him.
There was a large, pink man in the cow pasture, somewhere he very much did not belong.
Catherine’s cheeks puffed as she set down her milk buckets, hopping the fence and walking over to the large man who only got larger as she approached. By the time they were next to each other, her neck was craned upwards to look up at the man, her brow furrowed deeply.
“Excuse me but I don’t believe you have permission to be in our pasture, do you? You’re scaring the cows.” She gestured vaguely to the milk cows, one of which was licking the man’s hand.
Okay, they didn’t look too scared. But it was the principle of the matter.
The man smirked a bit, making Catherine’s cheeks heat up. From anger. Not from attraction. Certainly not. It wasn’t like he was devilishly handsome or anything.
“We don’t have cows at home, we have meeps. But I’m good with them, I swear! They’re just big puppy dogs, when you get down to it.” He chuckled a deep chuckle that seemed to rumble from deep within his chest- his broad, strong looking chest. Catherine tried not to flush deeper.
“Well, that’s nice and all, but these are MY cows, not your meeps. So you have no right to come and- and walk around like you own the place! Who do you think you are, anyway?”
She must have said some magic words, cause the smarmy smirk on the man’s face turned into a huge, cow-shit eating grin. He gave an overly dramatic wave of his hand before bowing, making Catherine blink.
“Prince Amethar Rocks of Candia, at your service.”
Prince? Prince?
The flush disappeared from Catherine’s face, turning to a pale yellow as all the blood rushed from it. She’d been cursing out a prince?
Hastily, she picked up her skirts and curtsied deeply in turn, feeling like a right idiot. Was he going to chop off her head for her insolence?
“Your highness-” she started, but Amethar responded with a deep laugh, the same as before. And despite herself, Catherine was blushing again.
“Awww, c’mon, none of that curtseying crap! I’m not anything special, I just happen to be a prince.”
Despite herself, Catherine huffed a bit, straightening, her skirts falling back to her sides as she folded her arms over her chest instead.
“Right, so I’m just supposed to treat you like a commoner? Is this a trap? Are you going to haul me off to Candia jail?”
Amethar shrugged, a devilish grin crossing his chiseled features.
“I mean, if you want me to get some cuffs, I can do that-” If Catherine could reach, she’d have slapped him. Instead, she settled on thumping her hand on his chest a bit, royal title be damned.
“Get cheeky with me like that again and I’ll make you eat your crown, your highness!”
Amethar could only laugh, a sound Catherine was quickly getting used to. It was so warm and mirthful and full of joy. It made Catherine feel warm too, and not just from the blood in her cheeks.
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry, that was rude. But please, call me Amethar. I’m gonna go crazy if you keep calling me your highness.”
Warily she eyed him before nodding a bit, hugging herself a bit tighter.
“Alright, if you insist...Amethar. Now, are you gonna tell me why you’re traipsing around my pasture or are you just gonna leave me wondering?”
Finally the smug aire that Amethar carried seemed to fade to something more...sheepish. Idly he rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away.
“Okay, truth is...I’m lost. I’ve been wandering around for a while and lost my way back to Curdstown. I’m visiting with my sisters and all that. They’re probably wondering where I am by now, and...I found your farm, thought I’d ask for some directions. No one was at the house though, so I started looking around, ended up in the pasture, and, well...I found you, didn’t I?”
For the first time since spotting the large, pink man, Catherine’s lips cracked into a small smile.
“Big, strong prince can’t find his way around? Lacking some brains in that pretty little head of yours?” The moment the words spilled out, Catherine gasped, throwing her hands over her mouth. Oh, now she was going to get it-
“You’re damn funny, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl so pretty and witty at the same time.”
Once she realized she was not, in fact, going to be hauled off to a dungeon, Catherine blinked, her hands still covering her mouth, hiding her flustered smile. Once she collected herself, she cleared her throat, crossing her arms again.
“A girl can’t be witty and beautiful at the same time? Or just not in Candia?” They both laughed then, and Catherine finally felt herself relaxing around the stranger. Sure, he was a prince of Candia, but he felt so...easy. Kind. And he had a good sense of humor to boot. If Catherine hadn’t known much better, she’d have thought he’d be fun to get to know more, but alas, once he was back with his sisters, she was sure she’d never see him again.
But…
“I’m just finishing up for the day. Give me a couple more minutes then I’ll take you back to Curdstown myself. Make sure you don’t get your pretty little head even more lost.” Feeling emboldened, she nudged him before walking back to fetch her milk buckets, finally letting herself smile as wide as she felt she wanted to. Couldn’t let him see, though. Might give him an ego, knowing he was charming her like this.
And anyway, he was a prince, she was a milkmaid. What could possibly come of that?