Prologue February 12, 2007

This is the prologue to my Royal Kingdom Challenge. It shows how Ambrose Valley Kingdom came to be. I hope you all enjoy, and as always, I appreciate all comments, including criticism.

Simon Ambrose hung his head in defeat. He was tired of fighting. He closed his eyes, accepting the darkness that overtook him.

The blistering heat of the sun melted into his pores and woke him from his pleasant state of nothingness. Simon lifted his head and immediately regretted it. He groaned as agonizing pain shot through his skull. His mind felt like a foggy mess, full of dangling cobwebs and a layer of dust. With an air of defeat he let his head crash back against the ground, sending tiny grains of sand flying into the air, each speck contrasting with the endless blue sky. Another wave of pain shot through him, but he tried to ignore it. Instead he concentrated on the comforting lull of water crashing violently against the sand. Simon smiled a little bit as he realized that he was on a beach.

After a few moments, he struggled again to sit up and groaned as a pain shot through his ribs. However, he reached a sitting position and immediately paled as the recollection of the past few months scrambled through his scattered thoughts.

“Hello?” a voice questioned from behind him. He turned his head slowly and saw a beautiful, but very dirty young woman.

“Where am I?” he asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

“The mainlanders call us the Land of Society’s Rejects, but I don’t really think it’s accurate,” she said, her words trailing off as she approached Simon. He grunted, indicating that he heard her. It seemed like a fitting name.

“But what are you doing here?” the girl began. “You look like part of that awful aristocracy.”

Simon raised an eyebrow at the young woman, wondering how she could think such a thing when he was obviously just as dirty as she was, but ignored her question. “Where do I eat?” he asked, and the woman laughed.

“You *were* part of the aristocracy. I bet you were a disreputable rake. You scandalized a woman and left her and she was with child and her -”

“Stop your babbling, you insolent woman. You know nothing about me! I’ll manage on my own,” Simon growled. He felt himself go a little bit numb inside as he thought about what she said. It had hit a little too close to home and sent his mind veering in a direction that he had wished to forget.

“Wait. Follow me and I’ll introduce you to our people. They’ll have some food to placate you,” she said, stopping the train wreck that had been occurring in Simon’s mind. He was instantly brought back to the present.
Simon scoffed arrogantly, “You and your criminal friends certainly are not my people.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed angrily. “You ignorant fool. You don’t know what this place is, do you?” she spat at him and stormed off into the emerald forest behind her.

Simon realized that if he didn’t follow her, he probably wouldn’t survive. He knew little about the wilderness, only what he had learned on the annual hunt with his father, and despite his excellent swordsmanship, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fend for himself against a bunch of barbarians. He shuddered at the thought of having to spend time with the blackguards on this island, but it was the best idea he had at the present. Simon ran and caught up to the woman. He didn’t apologize or attempt to make up for his behavior. He merely walked beside her, and she didn’t try to run away.

“It would be nice if you were to introduce yourself,” she said softly, internally reprimanding herself for being the one to initialize conversation.

Simon thought about how to answer that question for awhile and finally replied with a bow, “Simon Ambrose. And my I have the pleasure of attaining your name, m’lady?”

She was shocked at his sudden charm, and without thinking, blurted out, “Amelia Radleigh.” She was silent for a moment before her green eyes lit up and she exclaimed, “Did you say your name is Ambrose? As in King Ambrose?”

Simon chuckled bitterly, “He’s my father.”

Simon was quiet after his announcement, going over in his mind the events that led up to his current position. He remembered the brutal beating he had received on the ship, falling into a dark void. He remembered the smirk on his younger brother’s face as he was shackled by the guards. He remembered his mother’s forlorn eyes and his father’s grim determination.

“I didn’t do it, Your Highness,” he told his father, knowing he wouldn’t believe him.

“Simon, you know what must be done. I can’t have our blood being scandalized. She claimed it was your child. She said she begged you to marry her and make the child legitimate, and in your fury you killed him. Whether this is true or not does not matter. Her family is very powerful. Your brother, Reginald will become king. You will, of course, be exiled.”

Reginald’s lips curled up into a small, animalistic smile as he muttered under his breath, “Checkmate.”

Simon glared at his brother as he was thrown into chains and led from the room. He heard his mother sobbing as a door closed behind him. He was seething inside, every inch of him demanding revenge. He had never even met that woman, and there certainly wasn’t a child.

“Lookie what we ‘ave here. Mistah High and Mighty ain’t nothing but one o’ us lowly scums. We’re gonna ‘ave us some fun on the ship, ain’t we, Princey?” one of the guards heckled as he sharply elbowed Simon’s ribs. “Yessah, we’re gonna ‘ave some fun.”

The months spent on the ship were long and grueling. Simon was frequently whipped for performing inadequately in his duties. He lived on bread and water. His hair grew long and dirty. But not once did he complain. He accepted his fate for what it was.

As the ship approached land, one of the guards began to whip Simon, who refused to show his pain. The guard, angry at Simon for not reacting, picked up a wooden beam and smashed it down on the back of Simon’s head.

The darkness seeped in, engulfing Simon in blissful unconsciousness.

“Oh, Prince Simon!” Amelia exclaimed and curtsied excitedly, breaking Simon from his miserable reverie. “Have you come to save us?”

“No,” Simon replied shortly, his patience thin.

Amelia’s demeanor wilted. “Then why are you here?”

Simon glared at Amelia. How dare she address him so informally, acting like she knew him. He was a prince, the rightful heir to England’s throne. And this common strumpet was talking to him as if they were best friends. He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair in agitation. It wasn’t really her fault she didn’t know how to behave. She was only a commoner, after all. “I was framed,” he said after an extended silence.

Amelia giggled. Simon scowled. Amelia laughed harder. “Of course you were framed,” she said. “We’ve all been framed. They didn’t have enough evidence to hang or imprison us. So we were all sent here.”

Simon was shocked and furious that his father would create such a land. He didn’t say another word to Amelia during the remainder of their walk to the inhabited part of the island.

“Well, this is home,”Amelia said. “It isn’t much, but it’s livable.”

“This is horrible,” Simon said, aghast. “These living conditions are horrible. They’re just straw shacks!”

Amelia’s brows knotted together in anger, “We can’t help it! There isn’t any other way!”

Simon turned his head to look at her. “I’ll build us a kingdom. We’ll have real homes. I have some friends on the mainland. They’ll understand the situation. They’ll help us build our own kingdom.”

Amelia laughed. “I thought you weren’t here to save us?”

Simon smile wearily back at her and said, “I guess I’ve changed my mind. Besides, I’ll be living her too, and these conditions certainly aren’t fit for a former prince.”

Amelia giggle at him, catching the lighter tone in his voice.

And so the years passed. The kingdom began to thrive. The people’s pasts were forgotten as they bartered with other lands. Amelia and Simon wed and shortly after gave birth to a healthy son named, Victor. And around the same time, to Simon’s best friend, a beautiful little girl was born named Charlotte. Years later, when the kingdom was much more prosperous, Charlotte and Victor would be wed.