To Save a King, page 1
To Save A King
by Rachel Hauck
To Save A King
Copyright © 2021 by Rachel Hauck. rachel@rachelhauck.com
Published by Hauck House
All rights reserved. This book is a copyrighted work and no part of it may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photographic, audio recording, or any information storage and retrieval system) without permission in writing from the author. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without a legal purchase or without permission from the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions.
Scripture quotations are from the New American Standard Bible® (NASB), copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. www.Lockman.org
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
Cover Design: Kristen Ingebretson
Map Design: Penmagiccards
Digital Formatting: Author E.M.S.
Table of Contents
TO SAVE A KING
Copyright
Reviews & Endorsements for Rachel Hauck
Dedication
Map
Prologue – Let’s begin here…
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
Let’s end here…
Acknowledgments
About the Author
More by Rachel Hauck
Reviews & Endorsements for Rachel Hauck
TO LOVE A PRINCE
“Another compelling royal story by the master of princely tales!”
—Susan May Warren, USA Today bestselling, RITA award–winning novelist
“To Love a Prince is breathtaking and enchanting! Rachel Hauck is the queen of inspirational royal romance.”
—Teri Wilson, bestselling author of Unleashing Mr. Darcy and Christmas Charms
“Hauck has taken elements we love from fairy tales and given them a fresh twist in a modern setting. A delightful read!”
—Becky Wade, bestselling and Christy Award winning author
THE FIFTH AVENUE STORY SOCIETY
“Hauck intertwines the stories of five New Yorkers who each receive a mysterious invitation to join a “story society” in this exhilarating inspirational… Hauck inspires and uplifts with this mix of tales. Readers who enjoy Karen Kingsbury will love this.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Rachel Hauck’s rich characterization and deft hand with plotting and setting had me enthralled until I turned the last page of this superb novel. Fifth Avenue Story Society is truly a masterpiece—a one-of-a-kind novel that lingers long after the last page is turned. This is one I’ll reread often, and it should garner Hauck much well-deserved acclaim. This should be on everyone’s shelf
—Colleen Coble, USA Today bestselling author
THE WEDDING SHOP
“I adored The Wedding Shop! Rachel Hauck has created a tender, nostalgic story, weaving together two pairs of star-crossed lovers from the present and the past with the magical space that connects them. So full of heart and heartache and redemption, this book is one you’ll read long into the night, until the characters become your friends, and Heart’s Bend, Tennessee, your second hometown.”
—Beatriz Williams, New York Times bestselling author
THE WEDDING CHAPEL
“Hauck tells another gorgeously rendered story. The raw, hidden emotions of Taylor and Jack are incredibly realistic and will resonate with readers. The way the entire tale comes together with the image of the chapel as holding the heartbeat of God is breathtaking and complements the romance of the story.”
—RT Book Reviews, 4.5 stars, TOP PICK!
THE WEDDING DRESS
“Hauck weaves an intricately beautiful story centering around a wedding dress passed down through the years. Taken at face value, the tale is superlative, but considering the spiritual message on the surface and between the lines, this novel is incredible. Readers will laugh, cry and treasure this book.”
—RT Book Reviews, TOP PICK!
THE ROYAL WEDDING SERIES
“Perfect for Valentine’s Day, Hauck’s latest inspirational romance offers an uplifting and emotionally rewarding tale that will delight her growing fan base.”
—Library Journal, starred review of How To Catch A Prince
“Hauck spins a surprisingly believable royal-meets-commoner love story. This is a modern and engaging tale with well-developed secondary characters that are entertaining and add a quirky touch. Hauck fans will find a gem of a tale.”
—Publishers Weekly starred review of Once Upon a Prince
Dedication
To those who dare to believe
Prologue
Let’s begin here…
Perrigwynn Palace
Port Fressa, Lauchtenland, 2000
Once Upon A Time…
… Prince John believed in fairy tales.
“Tell the fairy tale, Mum,” he’d say on the nights his mum, the queen of Lauchtenland, tucked him and little brother Gus into bed, imagining the story’s thick white feather, almost wishing it would appear before his eyes.
The Swan’s Feather was as old as the House of Blue itself. When it began no one really knew, but for centuries the tale echoed in the halls of Hadsby Castle and Perrigwynn Palace.
On this particular night, Mum hurried ten-year-old John and eight-year-old Gus toward the gold and blue couch, the big skirt of her sparkling dress swishing. She’d told them frightfully grand men and women from around the world awaited her in the Great Hall.
“Quickly boys, I don’t have long.” Mum sat with a sighing smile.
“Tell The Swan’s Feather, Mum.” Though John was the oldest, if he didn’t speak up, he’d not get his way.
“I hate that one.” Gus leaned around Mum, making a face. “Tell the one about the knight who kills the dragon.”
“We heard that one last time.” Tonight, John was determined to win. After all, he was the crown prince and future king. If he couldn’t rule his little brother, then who could he rule?
So the brotherly debate began over which fairy tale was the best and Mum, being a queen, settled it with swift diplomacy.
“We heard your story last time, Gus.” She kissed her youngest prince on the head. “Tonight it’s John’s turn to choose.”
John sneered at his brother then sat back. Mum was busy tonight and if they argued, there would be no story.
Being a queen was serious business and to be good at “queening”—as Dad liked to say—required a good deal of work.
“We’re lucky men,” he’d say. “Mum loves us and her country with such devotion.”
However, Gus, being Gus, made a final appeal. “The Swan’s Feather is about a girl. Blech.” His protest came with a spew of biscuit crumbs.
“What’s wrong with girls?” Mum said. “I’m a girl.”
“No you’re not. You’re Mum and mums don’t count.”
“Be quiet,” John said. “Mum can’t be late to her dinner.”
As for The Swan’s Feather being about a girl? Well, that’s exactly why John loved it.
“Here we go.” Mum hugged both boys close. “The story of The Swan’s Feather. Once upon a time, there was a young prince.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but full of an excitement John felt in his bones.
“That’s me,” he said, sitting up, gazing into his mother’s beautiful face. “The prince.”
“And me.” Gus.
“Yes, it’s both of you, but no more interruptions or it’s straight to bed.” John buttoned his lip and settled back. “Where were we? Oh yes, well, our young prince was destined to fall in love. He had no choice you see, for there was a writ, a law, that required all princes bound to be king—”
“I’m not going to be king.” Gus again, declaring the obvious, and sounding disappointed. “But I can kill a dragon.”
“Do you know what it means to be quiet?” John reached around his mother for a swing at Gus, but she caught his arm and held it in her lap.
“My little darlings, you must listen before you speak. Don’t rob me of the pleasure of tucking you in before this dinner. Now, the young crown prince was all but commanded to find a wife or risk the right of the throne and lose the kingdom. But the prince wanted love as well as a wife. ‘Love,’ his father told him, ‘is not a requirement, dear boy, but a luxury. Find a suitable bride is all we ask. Do your duty.’”
But he wanted love, Mum.” For some odd reason, John felt the pain of the fairy-tale prince every time. Why must he have a writ? Why must he marry without love? Even for the kingdom, it didn’t seem right or fair.
“No talking.” Gus, and who asked him?
“Alas,” Mum went on, “in all the land, the crown prince found no fair maiden for his heart to love. He searched the high country, the low country, and along the mountain ridges and down by the seashore. Still, love could not be found.”
“Did he look in the Heart of God?” John peered up at his mother. Surely, the prince would find love there. ’Tis where he’d look if he were bound by this writ, this law of love.
“That’s not part of the story, dummy.”
“Gus,” Mum said. “Words.”
He shrank back, shoving another cookie into his mouth from the endless pile in his hand.
“There was no Heart of God when the prince looked for love.” Mum glanced toward the door where Dad leaned against the opening, smiling, hands in his tuxedo pockets.
No Heart of God for the fairy-tale prince? As far as John knew, the lights of the eight ancient cathedrals—which formed a heart—existed since the dawn of time.
John gazed from Dad to Mum then Dad again. Was that the look of love? Staring at one another with googly eyes—which made him squirm.
“Hurry, love,” Dad said. “It’s almost eight. Boys, listen to your mum’s story then straight to bed. If you need anything, call Molly.”
“Now you’re the one interrupting.” Mum shooed Dad with a flick of her hand. “I’ve lost my place again.”
“The prince couldn’t find a stupid girlfriend.” Gus scooted to the edge of the couch and brushed his crumbs to the floor.
“You will clean that up, young man.” Mum sounded irritated. Thank you, Gus. “Our poor prince is lost, looking for love. With no Heart of God to guide him, the prince had to do it all on his own. One day, his father, the king, sent him to faraway lands, braving stormy seas, to find a suitable princess. But again, none was found.
“Years passed and still no bride. What was he to do? A king without a bride in his kingdom was no king at all. Finally the king demanded the prince marry one of the beautiful maidens of his kingdom.”
“This sounds like Cinderella. I hate Cinderella.” Gus was kneeling on the plush carpet, gathering crumbs in his hand and dumping them into a china dish on the end table.
Mum frowned at the crumb deposits but pushed on with the tale. “But the prince insisted he must marry for love. He was so desperate he stayed behind in the abbey after vespers one day to say his own prayers. Did they avail anything? Was there any being to hear his plea? The prince had no idea, but he believed. Then it happened. The king announced a great ball and invited all the eligible maidens in the land.”
“Cinderella,” Gus muttered.
One more interruption, and John would sock him. Right in the nose. He balled his fist, ready to fire. They’d be sent to bed without the rest of the story, and maybe he’d even be grounded from his video games, but it’d be worth it.
“All the daughters of Lauchtenland, from high to low, purchased beautiful gowns from the shops in the Midlands, or sewed them at home, with their mums frantically supervising. They must be beautiful. They must impress the prince. A girl could do a lot of good being married to a future king. The night of the ball arrived, and the room was filled with women from every branch of society, their brightly colored gowns like the colors of the earth and sky. Red ones, blue ones, green ones. Purple, gold, black, and white. Sparkling bobbles on their ears and around their necks caught the light. The prince was both overwhelmed and overjoyed. Surely one woman in the room would steal his heart. The king agreed. Tonight, his son would find a bride. The fairest of them all would dance in his arms, and together they’d fall madly in love. By dawn’s glorious light, the prince had danced with so many fair maidens his fine shoes were worn out. ‘Well, son, did you find love?’ the king asked. ‘No father,’ he said. ‘Sadly, no.’”
“What a loser.” Gus was back on the couch, half awake, half asleep, a cookie crumb clinging to his lower lip.
“‘What are we to do?’ the king asked of his queen. ‘Believe,’ she said. ‘He will find love when the swans return to the garden pond.’ But the swans returned every year, the king protested, and his son had yet to find love.
“The next day as the prince concluded his morning vespers, a thick white feather fell from the abbey’s rafters. Picking up the large, perfect plume, the prince searched for the trespassing bird, most likely wounded and in need of rescue. Was he perched on a windowsill or on the flat surface of the wide rafters? He called for the gardener and the abbey caretaker. They searched along with the prince but no bird was found.
“Remembering the queen’s prediction, the prince tucked the feather into his pocket, believing with all his heart this fine plume was a sign of his coming true love. Time passed and the king grew old. People feared there would be no new king because the crown prince had not found a bride and thus had not taken his oath to serve the people.
“‘You must marry,’ the king said, his voice weak with age. ‘With or without love.’ Alas, the prince agreed to marry a beautiful lady of noble stature and fine reputation. Everyone approved and the wedding date was set. Then. One day it happened.” When Mum got to this part, she lowered her voice in a way that thundered, and a shiver always trickled down John’s spine. “While on holiday with his mates, the prince saw the most marvelous girl. She was kind and sweet, very smart—”
“Like you, Mum,” John whispered.
“—yet she seemed sad to him. Something troubled her. The prince wanted to be her friend. So he made her laugh and sing. Soon they were inseparable. And it happened. The prince experienced the powerful, moving sensation of love. It kept him awake at night. He thought of nothing but her. His friends chided him. ‘She’s not of noble birth,’ they said. ‘No one has ever heard of her,’ they said. Was she worthy to be the bride of a future king? As much as the prince loved her, would she make a suitable queen? Would the people love her? He was already engaged to a fine woman the people admired. Sadly, the prince knew he must return to his homeland and never see the girl again. Their love came too late. Leaving his friends to enjoy their last day on holiday, he traveled to his love’s modest home. While it was nothing like the palace where he lived, it was warm, cozy, and full of happiness. His heart swelled all the more with affection. He was served the most delicious tea and cakes. Her father regaled him with stories, even sang a few songs. They toured the family’s modest barn and talked to the animals. At last the hour came for the prince to depart. As he was about to tell the girl of his upcoming nuptials, he spied a beautiful, thick, white swan’s feather on the fireplace mantel.
“The prince could not speak. The moment was too sacred for words. At last he inquired, ‘Where’d you get this?’ He raised the shaft. ‘I found it in our chapel, after my prayers,’ she answered. Upon her confession, he embraced and kissed her sweetly, tenderly.”
