Romance The kiss that saved her

the kiss The hunter‟s bow was cocked and ready to strike. He was nearing sixty years old and was aware of how the kill would go down. The unsuspecting prey carelessly allowed him the advantage by being unaware danger was near. He saw it many times before when he hunted deer. They were his favorite prey as they were as beautiful as they were easy to kill. But this was no deer. This was a girl of seventeen. She was raised in a castle with servants. If her parents were alive she would not be in this danger. He pulled on the arrow. The target was within his grasp. Sweat poured out of his skin. He knew he must strike soon. He looked again at the Princess who was bending down to pick a flower like a maid would choose her brush. The moment was ideal for a kill. He would be rewarded or executed.  His mind said, Shoot now!  The Queen was like a python ready to squeeze power from the Princess. Power became everything. Princess Joanna would die by an arrow shot by her own servant. His hand