Prince Lukas of Anslem lay sprawled on his bed. It was late into the night, and the prince
of Anslem was restless. He sat up and swung his lengthy legs over the side of the bed and pushed
his long, sun-kissed hair out of his face. He sighed and hung his head, and paused for a moment
before he got up yet again.
He swung his feet to the floor where they rested on a great grizzly bear rug. This was the
great bear that he had killed with an arrow after it went mad and attacked an outlying village.
The man-eater had killed nineteen people of one of Anslem’s tribes in one winter. It felt right to
walk on it.
Lukas rose to his full naked stature and stretched. It was going to be a long night. His
body was the thick muscular frame of a knight who worked in heavy armor and physical
training. He crossed his room to the balcony and stared out across the Kingdom of Anslem.
“Marliele,” he said, looking out into the darkness. Loneliness and despair mocked his
usual indifference towards any particular woman. Many a maiden of the Kingdom of Anslem
would be a willing bride.