The morning after his tryst with Atalanta, Hip woke up with one thought on his mind—he had to win the heart of Atalanta.

Apparently, he'd been too steeped in military life to have noticed all the hype over the princess and the eccentric way the royal family had chosen to find her future husband. When it came to government he paid more attention to the global matters of Darteen, issues between the regions the various gods and goddesses controlled. On a provincial level, he followed sports so he was surprised he’d missed all the excitement over the royal races, but if he'd seen the word "princess" he likely glossed over it.

His mother had been a royal watcher, but until he fell for Atalanta he'd had no use for the royal family. In his mind they mostly interfered with, rather than assisted in, military operations and their purpose seemed to be more as figureheads than real leaders. It was common knowledge that all rulers served at the pleasure of their ruling deity, though it wasn’t politically correct to discuss this publicly.

Though he'd heard the king was a tough but fair man.

The first thing Hip did was fix himself some eggs in his tiny apartment, and then he sat down to search for all the information he could find on the girl while he ate his breakfast. He felt like a stalker, but it couldn't be helped.

After consuming a ton of content, he was less than thrilled with what he'd found.

The princess had a reputation for being quite a barracuda when it came to men. Some reports stated that there were currently over thirty men who had been caught with her in flagrante and who were now serving time for it.

Nervously, he ran a hand through his hair. It hadn't occurred to him that bedding the princess was a crime. Hell, he hadn't known she even was a princess when she took him into the woods.

But all the pictures he saw of her, smiling, waving to fans—they were all her. The girl of his dreams was definitely the princess.

Frustrated, he pushed back his chair and tossed his plate into the sink with a clatter.

Yes, she'd been forward with him—clearly a woman experienced in the art of love—but he didn't believe her to be the cold, heartless man-eater the articles claimed her to be.

He wiped his mouth and threw on his clothes.

He just needed to see her. That would make everything all right.

An hour later he stood in front of a palace guard.

Hip shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the guard inspected his identification chip.

"And what business is it you have again with the princess?"

"I just need to see her, that's all." Hip inhaled deeply and tried to stay chill, but he wanted to push past this guy and run through the palace calling her name—now that he knew it.

The guard with a name tag that read "Carl" put his palm on Hip's chest.

Hip wanted to react, but he realized he needed to remain calm, no matter how hard his heart was pounding in his chest.

"Son, you're not going in there." The guard jerked his head at the opulent palace behind him. The massive stone structure complete with gilded spires atop the soaring towers mocked Hip, and he struggled to come up with something plausible.

"You don't understand. The princess, yesterday I saw her and she... she dropped something. I need to return it to her."

"You may leave it with me." Carl held out his hand, and Hip knew his quest to see Atalanta was doomed. At least this afternoon.

Hip made a show of digging in his pockets then bringing out his hands again empty. "Oh no. I must have left it at home."

"Uh huh, right. Are you one of the princess' suitors?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Hip.

"No, nothing like that," Hip insisted. After reading those stories about Atalanta's former lovers, he had no interest in joining them behind bars.

He considered leaving a note for Atalanta, but he knew the guard would probably read it, and he had no way of knowing it would get to her in the end.

"I'll just go back home and find it. The thing... belonging to the princess that is," Hip said, taking first one step back and then another.

"You do that. And I don't want to see you around here unless you're bringing back that lost item for the princess. What is it anyway, that she dropped?"

Hip thought fast. "A hair tie."

The guard scoffed. "Princess Atalanta has a million hair ties. I doubt she needs you bringing one around here. Be gone with you before I summon the head of security."

"Yes, sir." Hip turned and walked at a rapid pace. He hadn't thought that through, and he realized his error could have landed him in jail.

It wasn't like him to be so shortsighted.

That woman had turned him upside down.

Enough running around half-cocked, it was time to think things through.

What he needed was a plan.

Skywriting.

That could be interesting, but what would he say?

Everything he could think of would either be inappropriate or idiotic.

Scratch that.

Every day he went for a run near where he first encountered the princess. He hoped he would catch a glimpse of her, but he never did.

He did, however, come across the man with the produce cart, and when he questioned him further the man told him that Atalanta used to run there several days a week, but he hadn't seen her since the day they had met.

This irritated Hip.

He wasn't stupid—she was avoiding him.

The same way she avoided every man she seemed to get involved with.

But those men were not him. He was determined to win her heart, and he clearly wasn't going to do it through old-fashioned courtship. Most marriages these days were arranged, and it seemed the only way to marry this woman was to play by the rules set by royal edict.

So he started running.

If he wanted Atalanta he was going to have to beat her at her own game, and it wasn't going to be easy.

Not that he wasn't physically fit.

He was in great condition, and he'd been an above average runner in school. But beating the fastest person in the world?

That seemed impossible.

But Hip had never been one to give up, and when he put his mind to something he stuck with it. He would give this challenge his all.

The worst-case scenario would be that he ran against her and lost. But even if he lost he'd be able to get close enough to her to plead his case.

But to be able to do that he needed to prepare for the race as if he intended to win it. Winning would be the answer to all his problems. If he won, Atalanta would be his wife, and that was what he wanted more than anything in the whole world.