My Princess

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of the WakeOne, there lived a princess of such beauty that songs were sung across the land in her honor, countless poem had her name itched in ink, and many suitors wanted to claim her hand. Her hair shone of a beautiful gold, her eyes sparkled brighter than the royal jewels, and her voice was said to calm even the wildest storm.

But envy, as it often does, crept into the heart of a neighboring queen. In a fit of jealousy, she summoned a dreadful orc from the dark corners of the earth and ordered him to seize the princess. 

The monstrous creature obeyed, taking the maiden away and locking her in a dungeon deep underground, thirty layers beneath the surface, guarded by fearsome beasts and riddled with traps no ordinary man could hope to survive.

The king, stricken with grief, summoned his finest warriors and sent them to rescue his daughter. Yet no one returned. 

A young knight heard the announcement. He was the apprentice of the great general. Without further ado he set to find the girl. Desperate, the king issued a royal proclamation: “To whomever can brave the dungeon and save my beloved daughter, I offer treasures beyond imagination and her hand in marriage.”

When they returned, the kingdom erupted in joy. Bells rang, doves flew, and flowers rained from the sky (probably thrown by bards). A grand feast was held in the hero’s honor, filled with music, dancing, jesters, and roasted boar the size of carriages.

At the end of the celebration, the king summoned the knight and the princess to the royal chamber.

“Brave adventurer,” the king declared, rising from his throne, “you have defeated the beast, conquered the dungeon, and rescued my dearest daughter. For this, I am eternally grateful.”

The knight nodded politely. “Sure.”

“As promised,” the king said with a proud smile, “you shall have her hand in marriage.”

A moment passed. The knight rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… nah, I’m good.” 

Wait, what? Why would you say such a thing?

“What?” gasped the princess, blinking in disbelief.

“…What?” echoed the king, eyes wide with confusion.

“Yeah, I’m not looking to get married,” you continued. 

“But why? You’d be a prince! You’d get a castle! You’d be the richest man in the kingdom!” the princess exclaimed, completely bewildered by your statement. She couldn’t understand why anyone in all the kingdom would come to such a decision.

“You ever tried maintaining a castle?” you replied in return.

“…No?”

“Yeah, didn’t think so. That’s because Daddy here pays for the roof repairs and moat cleaning. Pass,” you argued. “The cleaners, the maintenance, the horses…”

The royal advisor, who had been quietly sipping wine in the corner, choked a little at the mention of horses.

“But—but the wealth! The royal coffers!”

“I’m good on money. I already sold half the rare drops from the bottom floor of the dungeon. I’ve got my own brand now: Obscura. It’s niche, but it’s doing very well,” you said proudly.

Somewhere in the ballroom, a bard whispered, “I think I’ve seen that shop. Great cloaks.” Another guest shushed him.

“Thank you, sir. Remind me to give you a discount later,” you said.

“You risked your life to save us all,” the king said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Doesn’t that earn you a reward?”

“As I said,” you replied calmly, “I don’t need it. My shop is bringing me more than enough income.”

The king stared at you, baffled, as though trying to decipher a language he had never heard before.

“You’d refuse all this for some… boutique dungeon shop?” he asked, gesturing vaguely toward the grandeur around him: the throne, the gold, the royal court, the entire weight of the kingdom.

You met his gaze without flinching. “I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into that shop.”

“So what, you’re just going to keep killing monsters forever?” the princess said.

“With this sword? It’s too easy, I basically one-tapped that orc,” you said. 

What the fuck does that even mean?

The king glanced at his captain of the guard, who just shrugged. He didn’t know either.

“But… we could just give you the money!” the princess bargained.

“Yeah, but that comes with a royal wedding, right?” you asked.

“Well… yes.”

“Then no thanks.”

“Is it me? Am I not beautiful enough?” the princess said in desperation.

“Oh no, you’re gorgeous. But so are the girls in the red-light district.”

Not a good move, dude.

Gasps echoed through the throne room. One noblewoman fainted. The court jester dropped his lute.

“How dare you compare me to those—those common whores?!”

“Hey, easy. Those ‘common whores’ pay taxes. The same taxes that keep your castle from crumbling into a moss-covered ruin.”

“You! You should be on your knees thanking the gods for my interest, not questioning it! I am Princess Yuri, the most sought-after bride in the land. Kings and nobles have begged for the privilege of having me as their wife!” The princess rushed right into your face, livid, she couldn’t contain herself and dropped all manners. "And yet, here I am, offering myself to you. You should feel incredibly lucky!”

“If you have so many suitors, you could satisfy one of them,” you replied. “Surely there must be a handsome one out there.”

The king slumped back in his throne, looking like he had aged ten years in ten seconds. The princess looked as though she might breathe fire. You just adjusted your sword belt and stared off toward the window.

“Anyway,” you resumed. “I’ve got orders to ship. Later.” You moved to walk out of the room, but not before stopping and handing a little card to the bard.

“10% discount on everything.”

The bard, caught completely off guard, fumbled the card and caught it against his chest. He looked around nervously, clutching his lute. “Thank you, my lord,” he whispered, trying not to be heard.

The king narrowed his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh. Normally, such blatant disrespect would have earned a man the gallows, a swift beheading, or at the very least a cold, dark cell. But this time… nothing.