The Wrong Princess E-Book

Honey Beezleigh

• Herausgeber: Honey Beezleigh
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Left behind on an empty island with her adopted son and sister, Ariadne tried to make a new life in the following of the God of Wine.

Tried being the operative word.

Her sister is appalled by the lovestruck priest of Dionysus wooing her, straining their offered hospitality.

Fine. Ariadne had smoothed feathers in her sister's wake since their childhood, though she was tired of it. It wasn't even a hardship to talk to the cute priest prone to kind gestures.

Ariadne's past as Mistress of the Labyrinth refuses to stay behind her.

Fine. Ariadne was accustomed to violence, keeping the man eating Minotaur corralled since her enslaved childhood.

But nothing could prepare her for her son's past coming for him.

Leseprobe

The Wrong Princess

What If Myth, Volume 3

Honey Beezleigh

Published by Honey Beezleigh, 2024.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE WRONG PRINCESS

First edition. June 3, 2024.

Copyright © 2024 Honey Beezleigh.

Written by Honey Beezleigh.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Also by Honey Beezleigh

What If Myth

No Mortals Allowed

The Two Lives of Ariadne (Coming Soon)

The Wrong Princess (Coming Soon)

Watch for more at Honey Beezleigh’s site.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Honey Beezleigh

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31 | EPILOGUE

Further Reading: The Two Lives of Ariadne

Also By Honey Beezleigh

About the Author

CHAPTER 1

LUCKY

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“YOU’RE SO LUCKY.” PHAEDRA told her sister with a wistful look towards the horizon. Even the faintest hint of sails were gone now. Mid-morning light warmed the breeze that tugged against their thin dresses.

“I know.” Ariadne agreed with a small smile on her face as she tucked the blanket around her sleeping son more firmly. 

Seeing the direction of her sister’s attention, Phaedra groaned. “Not your deformed bastard.” She flopped back onto the sand next to her sister with a thump. She waved a delicate hand at the horizon. 

“I meant Theseus.” Phaedra sighed his name like he hadn’t just abandoned them on an isolated island. Distractedly, she added, “I can’t believe you snagged a Crown Prince.” After a moment, she finished with, “I was right there.” 

Ariadne looked up from the bundle in her arms with a snort. “You do remember that he only wanted to kill the Minotaur because it made him look good, don’t you?” She reminded her sister, only mildly concerned with the crush on Ariadne’s new fiancee. “He only agreed to marry me because I was literally the only one that could get him out of the Labyrinth alive.”

Her sister’s eyes dropped to the yawning babe nestled in Ariadne’s robe. “So? Royalty doesn’t do charity.” 

Ariadne ignored her sister’s words, as she so often did. “Look.” She nodded to a figure on the beach horizon. “Coronis is coming back. Maybe she found somewhere for us to stay.” Seeing as Theseus had dropped them off on the isolated island with little more than a hurried promise to return eventually, Ariadne was worried.

“I hope so. I have no desire to sleep outside like some kind of animal.” Phaedra rolled her eyes and cut off Ariadne before she could speak. “Yes, I know you would like something like that, but honestly, at least one of us needs to remember we’re royalty. Blue-blooded royalty.” She added pointedly, glaring at her sister’s baby.

Ariadne’s lips thinned. There was a lot from Phaedra she would tolerate, knowing that their parents had spoiled her from birth. But the not-so-subtle insults about Pan were going to stop.

She opened her mouth, but the sound of a horn cut her off. A raucous accompaniment of pipes pitched in and by the time the pounding of the deep drums sounded, surrounding Ariadne and Phaedra. 

It was as if the people playing the instruments with more vigor than skill appeared out of thin air, obscuring a horrified looking Coronis from view.

The revelers wore brightly colored fabrics, when they wore anything at all. They danced, feet lightly touching the ground before kicking up again. Sand flew everywhere. Ariadne spotted topless women with painted breasts and what she first took as naked men. It took her a moment to see past their very public and dancing, bouncing erections. They had horse's ears and tails, marking them as satyrs.

“Satyrs.” She breathed, the sound lost to the noisy music and dancers moving around them. Satyrs only congregated in the retinue of Dionysus, God of wine and revelry. His partying and relaxed style of worship appealed to the horny and drunk species.

That meant Ariadne, baby Pan and Phaedra were safe. More so than they were aboard the ambitious Prince Theseus’s ship. Ariadne hadn’t trusted the way he had looked at her son any more than she didn’t like her sister’s ugly jabs. Dionysus was famed as the kindest god, unless enraged. Once angry, he was one of the most terrifying. And the fastest way to do that was to harm his followers.

His followers were satyrs and women that cavorted with them. There were the others, mainly outcasts from society. None of them would look oddly at a baby with hooves and stubby horns. Ariadne was lucky.

The crowd parted like water around an approaching figure. Movement stilled out in a wave as they approached the stranded princesses. It took until they were almost to them for Ariadne to notice the figure’s bared, painted chest was male. The loud noise faded as he approached until even the last trailing, squeaking horn was silenced.

“I am Lyaeus, devoted priest of Dionysus and leader of this merry band.” He introduced himself. He kneeled in front of Phaedra and took her delicate hand in both of his. “I asked my god to have Prince Theseus leave you here, to be my bride. Will you marry me and share in my revels?”

Ariadne choked on her spit at the thought of her prissy sister living out in nature and never seeing the inside of a royal court again. Her son thought this was funny and burbled a laugh, woken but miraculously undisturbed by the previous raucous noise.

Lyaeus’s head swung around at the sound of the baby’s laughter breaking the heavy silence, and it was as if he saw Ariadne for the first time. He looked back and forth between her and Phaedra, looking more and more confused.

“Did you, by chance, specify which daughter of Minos you wanted, priest?” Phaedra gritted out, displeased and not afraid to show it.

Lyaeus blinked up at her with large calf like eyes. “Of course. Bright Phaedra, the most beautiful daughter of Minos, I have loved you from afar. I don’t understand why your sister is here as well.” He admitted, dragging his gaze from Phaedra to peer puzzled at Ariadne.

Phaedra’s angry swelling before one of her legendary outbursts paused visibly at the flattery.

Ariadne deliberately put the Prince in a better light than he likely deserved. She needed to avoid Phaedra having a tantrum at any slight to her crush and ruining their chance at a shelter on a potentially deserted island. 

“If you got your god to speak on your behalf, then I say that Prince Theseus was betting on being better safe than sorry.” Ariadne told the priest, glancing at the baby in her arms. She kept her next comment under her breath. “I can’t say he was sorry to leave me.” 

“Just as well, since I wanted a chance to think his proposal over.” Ariadne added in a louder voice when the priest’s head swung back towards her sister. He froze, then looked at Phaedra’s flustered expression and seemed to see it for the first time.

“A wise decision.” He agreed, standing and finally letting Phaedra snatch her hand back, wiping it on her dress. 

“Come, sweet Phaedra and enjoy the company of my people and be a guest among us while you consider my offer. And your sister, of course.” He added, shooting Ariadne a distracted look.

Phaedra opened her mouth, closed it, looking at the horizon where Theseus had sailed. He had promised to return at an undefined point in time. He had omitted mentioning a god. Until he returned, it stranded the two of them with no supplies, with only one of the tributes as a handmaid for Phaedra.

Phaedra wasn’t stupid. “I accept your hospitality.” She said through gritted teeth that were grinding.

“As do I and my son, Pan.” Ariadne accepted. “I can’t speak for our handmaid Coronis. I think she may have gotten lost.” She hedged, not looking at the surrounding crowd of watching faces. Her skin was itching under the weight of being under so many eyes.

“We’ll find her.” Lyaeus promised, moving with the sinuous side-to-side movement of the dancers as he led her sister deeper into the crowd. 

Ariadne trailed behind, bemused by the strange twist of fate.

CHAPTER 2

MATCH

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ARIADNE WATCHED THE priest of Dionysus preen in front of her sister, who was trying not to look at him at all. She felt bad for the man, trying to win the approval of a woman who disapproved of almost every element of his life.

The only thing Phaedra approved of about the worshippers of Dionysus was that he was a powerful God. That was it. Phaedra liked the structure and rules of society that the revels of the wine god worshippers deliberately flouted. 

Why wouldn’t she? The rules and structure of the world had only benefited her. Phaedra’s sense of privilege was deeply instilled for many reasons. She was the youngest child, their father’s favorite, the prettiest one. Being royalty descended from the Gods didn’t hurt either.

“I would have never thought that Prince Theseus would have spoken to the God of wine, out of all the Olympian Gods.” Coronis said from beside Ariadne, watching her burp the grumbling baby. “Lady Athena, of course. She is his patron as a hero and the elegant Goddess of wisdom. But the God that encourages people to drink and treat each other as equals?” Coronis made a disgusted noise.

Judging that her son was halfway asleep already, Ariadne responded quietly, aware of the listening ears all around. “You don’t have to have a dialogue going on with a god to be given an order.” She pointed out, watching her sister’s lip curl at whatever food Lyaeus was offering her.

“You’re right, of course, your highness.” Coronis followed her gaze. Her voice dipped in reverence. “She won’t have a choice. Princess Phaedra will have to marry him, if that’s his wish. A god’s ear...even royalty must respect that.”

“Any other god and I would say you are correct. But the god of wine is famous for his particular opinions on forcing women. As in, try it and see how many pieces he can have his devotees can tear you into.” She said, looking down at her drooling baby asleep in her arms. 

She thought of how people assumed how Pan had been conceived and tucked his blanket around him more firmly. “That makes Dionysus’s retinue is an ideal place to find a husband, if you ask me.” Ariadne told the skeptical woman with a tight smile, trying not to think about the things that said about her son.

Coronis glanced down at the bundle in Ariadne’s arms. “I can see how you would think so. Still,” She sighed as the priest tripped over his robe and almost fell into the cooking pit, “I feel bad for Princess Phaedra.”

Ariadne snorted, but didn’t elaborate at the other woman’s frown. Afterwards, when Coronis had drifted further into the encampment, another woman approached Ariadne. 

She settled next to Ariadne. After a glance at the snoring baby, the woman spoke quietly, “You don’t seem to think this is a good match.” 

Ariadne had to wonder at how popular Lyaeus was. Not only did his god grant him favors, and his own people agreed to cook an entirely new meal for a fussy Phaedra without a peep. And now what appeared to be a huntress of Artemis, a completely different god, was asking about his chances with wooing Phaedra.

“I’m Britomaris.” The woman added after an awkward moment, where Ariadne tried to think of a polite way to ask for her name.

“Ariadne. But I’m sure that it’s already all over camp.” She acknowledged with a sigh, shifting slowly to ease the pressure of her weight against the log she was sitting on.

“It is.” Britomaris agreed before pressing. “Do you not think that Lyaeus will be a good match for your sister?”

Ariadne sighed, already tired, and it wasn’t even quite lunch yet. “Britomaris, I mean this in the kindest way possible. While I am sure Lyaeus would be a wonderful husband,” She looked the tall woman dead in the eye, “He can do better.”

The huntress blinked, then furrowed her brows. “What makes you say that?” 

“Phaedra is a spoiled bitch.” Ariadne told her bluntly, after a careful glance to see where Coronis was. “Our parents raised her to be one, in order to be easier to manipulate. She’s going to chew that poor man up and spit him out.”

Britomaris inhaled sharply. “Not holding back, are you?” 

“I thought huntresses of Artemis don’t put stock in metaphorically beating around the bush.” Ariadne carefully didn’t mention the various jokes that usually accompanied that phrase. Given most of the goddess’s huntresses generally preferred other women, the jokes were endless.

“True enough.” Britomaris agreed cheerfully after a moment’s contemplation, leaning back on her hands. “Why aren’t you spoiled, then?”

Ariadne deadpanned, “I’m adopted.” 

Britomaris snorted, clearly taking it as a joke. “Do you want me to hold her while you get some food?” She offered, nodding at the bundle Ariadne held.

Ariadne couldn’t help the way she reflexively clutched her child tighter. “No.” She licked her lips. “It’s nothing personal, but people have made threats towards my son before.”

Britomaris raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because people believe him to be fathered by the Minotaur.” Ariadne explained tightly. “The way they see it, all the better to ‘take care of him’ while he’s still helpless.”

The blatantly eavesdropping musician interrupted, stopping his gently playing his lyre. “Wait, wasn’t the Minotaur your brother?” He asked, horrified enough he almost dropped his lyre before he set it down in his lap.

“Technically.” Ariadne sighed and looked at her stirring son. He cracked open a brown eye and yawned, showing his impressive set of pink gums.

“You said they believed his father to be the Minotaur, not that he was.” Britomaris figured out. “If you don’t mind me asking, who is his father?” She asked with a nod at Ariadne’s waking up baby.

“I have no idea.” Ariadne answered blandly, unfastening her dress top to give her son access to nurse. The huntress and the musician subsided into silence at the false implication Ariadne had been assaulted.

She saw no reason to correct them. There was always the chance that they would try to take him if they knew she shared no blood with her child. Phaedra certainly would. Ariadne had worked too hard to keep her son for her to lose him from a casual comment to a stranger.

“What’s his name?” The musician asked, clearly uncomfortable with the silence. Ariadne let it hang for another moment.

“Pan.” She responded easily, wincing as her hungry baby vigorously investigated her cracked nipple. She had already had a fairly high pain tolerance, but after beginning to nurse, it had gone up to unprecedented levels.

“He looks pretty hungry there. Have you tried supplementing with goat’s milk?” Britomaris asked, inching closer to peer at Pan.

“I did. It came right back out, along with a very loud lecture about the quality of his food.” Ariadne replied sourly. “Sadly, as I only have two breasts, he’s going to have to deal with a low supply issue or lower his standards.”

The musician frowned. “Shouldn’t two breasts usually enough to feed one baby?”

Britomaris snorted. “Depends on the kid and the breasts, Paean. In this case, barely.”

Ariadne didn’t take offense. It was true. Pan ate like he was trying to grow into an adult overnight and even with the milk that came in, Ariadne’s breasts didn’t amount to much.

Paean stood. “Seeing as you are fully occupied, that would be my cue to bring you some food.” He gave her a flirty wink before sauntering toward where the food was being served. 

Britomaris caught Ariadne’s uneasy expression. “Don’t worry, he’s not serious. My brother flirts with everything that moves.” 

“That’s reassuring.” Ariadne mumbled to herself, mind turning back to her earlier statement to Coronis. The following of Dionysus was a good place to look for a husband. But it might be her chance to be a mother to her son without having to marry someone to survive.