The Unicorn Princess

When I first saw her, I fell head over heels in love. She was, quite honestly, the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. And I'd seen plenty in my life!

Her fur was the lightest shade of pink I'd ever seen, and her mane was spectacular, all different shades of blue. And her horn was magnificent, almost the same shade as her fur. She loved wearing beads in her mane, and she had a particular fondness for gold. She was always wearing gold necklaces, sometimes set with stones and sometimes not. I personally thought she looked better without any jewellery, as she was gorgeous enough on her own without any further embellisments.

The first time I saw her, she was surrounded by eager young males, all vying for her attention. They were reasonably handsome specimens, to be sure, but her disdain for them was plain, from the way she smiled politely at their boasts, to the way she held her head a certain way, as if she viewed them as being something below her notice.

Not that she was snooty or rude in any way. But she held some high standards - or rather, her uncle did. Being the crown princess to the most powerful unicorn king in the world did mean she really couldn't settle for just anyone. Her uncle had seen to that - and he was a unicorn with some very high standards indeed.

So there I was, standing nervously in the corner, watching as the other males flirted with her, suggesting all sorts of things without saying them. I felt a bit ill, and a very strong urge to run some of the young punks through.

Well, I would have - but thanks to a broken horn lost in a foalhood accident, I didn't really have that ability. And that was the reason I was in the corner. No one wanted a horn-less male for a mate, let alone a horn-less male who had come from a humble family with no real prospects of making it into the upper class society frequented by royalty and nobility. But I was a hard working male - I was very good at creating solutions for problems that everyone else had given up on. I was, in short, a trader.

And traders would never be allowed to hob-nob with royalty.

Except, here I was.

My father had gained a contract with the king of Brighttree, and in exchange for giving my father some much-needed income, the king had requested I come to the banquet being held for his daughter, to celebrate her coming of age. Why, I had no idea, but a king's command was to never be ignored, so here I was, standing uncomfortably in the corner. I knew I had no chance at winning the princess's hoof in marriage. So why in seven hells was I here?

I sighed. I was bored. No one seemed interested in talking to a horn-less male, save for the servants, and I got along wonderfully with them. In fact, I'd learned a lot about the king and the princess, and how he'd had to turn down quite a few suitors, because they just didn't match his requirements. No one had seemed quite forthcoming on what those requirements were, but even I knew that they'd be along the lines of wealth, prestige, power, and quite a few other qualities I knew I didn't personally possess.

But I did have a good heart.

And right now, my heart was breaking.

"Excuse me."

I blinked, and went pale. The princess, having grown bored with her current company, had come to me, a lowly, horn-less male, who was an active trader, and thus way beneath her station.

I gulped. "How may I help, Your Grace?" I asked, conscious of some very angry eyes on me. But the males made no further attempts to try and get the princess's attention. Once she'd made her interest in me clear, they'd backed off, obeying the unspoken rules of courtship that were very prevalent in the upper echelons of society. Once a female started talking to a male, you left her alone, unless she indicated that she was simply testing the waters with that male. Interfering beforehand was very rude and guaranteed you a lower place on the pecking order the next time a female made herself available.

The princess raised an eyebrow. "So formal?" she teased. "You were never this formal when we were foals."

"Begging your pardon," I said respectfully, "but I do not ever recall meeting you before. And I certainly would never forget such a lovely being as yourself." I cringed as soon as those words left my mouth, but she didn't seem offended. In fact, the corner of her mouth quirked in a smile that tugged vaguely at my memory.

"I was not so lovely as a filly," she said, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "In fact, I remember you called me 'a gawky, awkward thing whose sole purpose in life is to trip over her hooves'."

I blinked, and then gasped. "Ella?!" I exclaimed.

She smiled and leaned over to rub her cheek against mine. "You've grown up."

"So have you," I said, still stunned that the gangly filly of my foalhood had changed so much. More memories came rushing in, of a foalhood spent running around my father's small holding, and of a king promising that, when we were grown, we would marry.

Ella gave me a mischievous look I now remembered all too well. "So do you remember the agreement our fathers had when we were foals?"

"I do," I said, now unable to contain the rather large grin on my face. "I take it now is as good a time as any to make that agreement happen?"

"I believe it is," she said, "but you must ask me properly, and in front of these peacocks. I want to see their faces fall."

I grinned even more widely as I finally left my corner. I did remember my broken horn, but ignored the looks as Ella and I made our way to the centre of the hall. The other males who'd been courting her now gave me very sour looks; they knew what was going on, but, according to another unspoken rule, they could take no action against me; I'd won Ella fair and square, and there was no chance in seven hells I could be accused of influencing her into choosing me.

I did have to smile to myself as The Question was asked, and answered in the affirmative. As we spent some pleasant moments nuzzling one another, while the assembled guests stomped politely on the floor, I reflected that Ella had chosen me right from the moment we'd met as foals. so she'd subconciously made sure all other romantic prospects were eliminated. Not that I was complaining. She'd been quite a good playmate, and I was glad she'd never forgotten the agreement our fathers had made. It meant I now had a mate who loved me, rather than one who wouldn't, and I was very pleased with the outcome.

It was worth all the sour looks I got as we then began our first dance as a betrothed couple. I did feel ill again at the prospect of the frills and trappings of the royal wedding we'd inevitably be having, as befittted a unicorn of her high stature, but that, I decided, was a small price to pay to have the unicorn I loved by my side.