The Stable Boy

By Megan Derr

On a journey to meet his fiancé and begin wedding preparations, Prince Diggory is betrayed by his bodyguard, who intends to steal Diggory's life. Left for dead in a river, the last thing Diggory expects is to live.

But surviving is only half the battle, and Diggory will have to figure out how to work around the constraints of a terrible curse if he hopes to stop the man who betrayed him and gain back his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Megan Derr
• Release date: Aug 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9781005126148

Megan Derr

Megan is a long-time resident of queer romance and keeps herself busy reading and writing it. She is often accused of fluff and nonsense. When she’s not involved in writing, she likes to cook, harass her wife and cats, or watch movies. She loves to hear from readers and can be found all over the internet.meganderr.compatreon.com/meganderrmeganderr.blogspot.comfacebook.com/[e-mail]@meganaderr

Book preview

The Stableboy

Megan Derr

On a journey to meet his fiancé and begin wedding preparations, Prince Diggory is betrayed by his bodyguard, who intends to steal Diggory's life. Left for dead in a river, the last thing Diggory expects is to live—but surviving is only half the battle, and he'll have to fight a curse and the constraints it has placed upon him if he hopes to gain back his stolen life.

The Stableboy

By Megan Derr

Published by Megan Derr

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

Edited by Samantha M. Derr

Cover designed by Megan Derr

This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

First Edition June 2022

Copyright © 2022 by Megan Derr

Printed in the United States of America

He woke up to the smell of grass and mud, sunshine, and a deep, twisting, writhing ache coursing through his body.

Curse.

He passed out again.

When he woke again, the sunshine had been replaced by moonlight and something was sniffing him. He groaned and dug his fingers into the damp grass, managed to life his head up, and found himself staring into the eyes of an enormous dog—a hunting dog, of good size and, he would hazard, sharp intelligence.

The dog chuffed at him and despite the pain, the confusion, the sense of panic clawing deep in the recesses of his mind, he dredged up a smile. Run along, he croaked, then swallowed to try and get some fluid moving. Back to your master.

In reply, the dog just howled.

He cringed away from the sound, tried to burrow into the ground, tears stinging his eyes as that set the throbbing ache to burning.

Curse.

The minute he had the thought, everything came flooding back to him. He was Prince Philip Degaré Hollis. Everyone called him Prince Diggory. He had been on his way to marry Prince Adalwin Brant … and his bodyguard had betrayed him, tried to murder him. Benoit—Diggory would see him hanged, at the very least. Him and all three of his nasty little band. What had their names been? Elci, Ignance, Poris.

Yes, they would all die, and as painfully as they had all killed him.

With that thought, he passed out a third time.

The next time he woke up, the smell of soup made his stomach growl. He opened his eyes and stared up at a ceiling of open beams and the thatched roof above. Turning his head, he took in the table and chest that seemed to be the only other pieces of furniture.

Diggory slowly sat up, pushing back the heavy quilt that had covered him. Sharp pain stabbed at his left side and he curled his fingers around it. Benoit had tried to stab him, but only wound up slicing him—but the knife had been set with magic, a nasty-feeling curse he hadn't been able to figure out before he'd been shoved into the river, left to die of whichever killed him first: wounds or water.

Where was he?

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and attempted to stand up, relieved when he swayed slightly, but managed to stay upright. Shoving loose strands of dark brown