PROLOGUE
THE KING OF MICE
Selborne Castle
November, 1201 A.D.
He didn’t know where else to go.
It had been an onset of an early winter this year and travel from the Continent had been difficult and slow. Snows had been heavy and deep, and the level of misery was beyond normal expectations. Coupled with the way he traveled these days… in shadow, his features hidden by a mask in the shape of a mouse that he’d purchased off of a physic who used it to keep away the smell of ill and dead patients, it made for slow and sometimes dangerous movement. People would see him and fear him because of the mask, but when they saw what was under the mask… well, that was even worse.
In truth, the mask was there to hide a disfigurement from a fire he’d been caught in. The entire right side of his face had been burned, half of his hair singed off, and he had scars all on the right side of his head, face, and neck. His nose had survived, but it was red and scarred, too. The mask didn’t cover all of it, but it covered a good portion of it and what it didn’t cover, he concealed beneath a kerchief he tied over his head. What remained of his hair was tied off at the nape of his neck and trailed down his back.
It had been beautiful hair, .
In fact, he’d been a man of comely looks, so much so that a princess had once vied for his hand. They were to be married until the accident that robbed him of the face he’d been born with. She couldn’t stand to look at him because of it. So, he’d been given a good deal of money to simply go away. It had been a terrible moment in his life, realizing that the woman he’d been slated to marry hadn’t been able to see past those scars to the man she said she’d once loved.
A man who had left everything to be with her.
Now, he was returning home in shame.
But the truth was that he didn’t want to go to the home of his father. The man had told him he’d been a fool in the first place for having run off with a woman promising him lands and wealth. So he didn’t want to go back to his father’s house to admit he’d been wrong. That wouldn’t do at all. He may not have had much pride left, but there was something left. Remnants, in fact.
And that was why he’d come to Selborne.
She was at Selborne.
He could still see her face. Eyes like emeralds, lips like rubies. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, someone he’d adored and someone who adored him in return. But he’d stepped on that adoration and ground it under his heel, turning it into dust when he made the choice to leave with the princess who had promised him the world. It had been a superficial decision at best and one that had cost him everything.
Now, he found himself back at the home of the woman who had adored him since childhood.
He had to go somewhere, so he came back to Selborne. The massive bastion in Hampshire, home of the de Nerra family, home to people he’d known all of his life and had loved all of his life. His father had served Sir Val de Nerra when he’d been very young, and he had nothing but fond memories of his childhood at Selborne.
But that was all he had now – only fond memories. It had been almost four years since he last saw Juliana de Nerra, Val’s daughter and the only woman he’d ever loved. He’d wanted to marry her until the promises from the princess had turned his foolish head. But the betrothal to the princess hadn’t been his idea; it had been thrust upon him with the promise of massive wealth and titles, and he’d been blinded by it. He’d never had feelings for the princess, not ever. But he’d chosen her and her wealth over the woman he adored, and now he had nothing. Nothing but memories.
Returning to Selborne was like returning to the scene of the crime.
Juliana was here. He’d come back to Selborne because she was here, because he wanted to be near her even though he knew she didn’t want to see him. After what he’d done, he didn’t blame her. But still, he wanted to be close to her, if only to catch a glimpse of her now and again. It was the only place he wanted to be.
The only place he could go.
He was a knight, and a very good one, but he did not seek service from Val. In fact, he didn’t want Val to even know he was there. He didn’t want anyone to know he was there. With the damage to his face and neck, it would take a sharp-eyed man to recognize him, but he couldn’t take any chances. He sought work in the kitchens or in the stables, and he was put in the butchery. He killed and processed animals for the de Nerra family table.
Having once been a powerful and celebrated knight, it was something of a sorrowful position to now be butchering animals as his vocation. But he didn’t feel shame in the position. In his estimation, it was better than he deserved and at least he had something to do now, a way to earn his keep. Moreover, he was close to the woman of his heart. In the month he’d been there, he’d already seen Juliana a few times and she was more beautiful than he remembered. He was content with admiring her from afar.
He didn’t deserve any better.
His domain was now the butchery and the kitchen yard, and he never ventured far from his domain. He rarely said a word and was obedient to the cook, who commanded him about and didn’t ask too many questions about the damage to his face and the odd mask he wore to cover it. Sometimes, he took the mask off just to breathe, but he quickly put it back on when people came around. But that wasn’t too often because he slept in a shed next to the butchery that contained axes and knives and a sharpening wheel; tools of his trade. Still, he wasn’t entirely alone. He did have the companionship of the little mice that ran between the stables and the kitchen yard. Sometimes, he even fed them. The cook saw him once and, given the fact that the mask he wore resembled a mouse, laughingly called him the King of the Mice.
It seemed that the mice were all he had these days.
The once-great knight, now reduced to a Mouse King and his self-made realm of misery.
He expected nothing more.