The Knight’s Forbidden Princess
A princess captive in the tower…A Spanish knight who can set her free!In this Princesses of the Alhambra story meet Princess Leonor, who can’t escape her tyrannical Sultan father. For Spanish knight Count Rodrigo her innocence and her beauty tug at his sense of honour. He will lay down his life to protect her…but the risks are great: she is the daughter of his sworn enemy!
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A princess captive in the tower...
A Spanish knight who can set her free!
In this Princesses of the Alhambra story, meet Princess Leonor, who canât escape her tyrannical sultan father. For Spanish knight Count Rodrigo, her innocenceâand beautyâtug at his sense of honor. He will lay down his life to protect her...but the risks are great: she is the daughter of his sworn enemy!
Princesses of the Alhambra miniseries
Book 1âThe Knightâs Forbidden Princess
Look out for the next book, coming soon!
âA well built story with believable characters and an evocative sense of time and place.â
âGoodreads Review on Lady Isobelâs Champion
CAROL TOWNEND was born in England and went to a convent school in the wilds of Yorkshire. Captivated by the medieval period, Carol read history at London University. She loves to travel, drawing inspiration for her novels from places as diverse as Winchester in England, Istanbul in Turkey and Troyes in France. A writer of both fiction and non-fiction, Carol lives in London with her husband and daughter. Visit her website at caroltownend.co.uk.
Knights of Champagne miniseries
Lady Isobelâs Champion
Unveiling Lady Clare Lord Gawainâs Forbidden Mistress Lady Rowenaâs Ruin Mistaken for a Lady
Princesses of the Alhambra miniseries
The Knightâs Forbidden Princess
And look out for the next book
coming soon
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-1-474-07369-1
THE KNIGHTâS FORBIDDEN PRINCESS
© 2018 Carol Townend
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a âLicensed Deviceâ) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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For my editor, Linda Fildew, who listened very hard (and incredibly patiently) when I was developing this story.
Iâd also like to thank Joanna Maitland and Sophie Weston of Libertà ! Their sparkles were invaluable. They know what I mean.
A thousand thanks.
Contents
1396âCastle Salobreña in Al-Andalusâa watchtower overlooking the port
The eldest Nasrid Princess was feeling rebellious. Today, she was using her Spanish name rather than her Moorish one. Today, she was Princess Leonor. She was supposed to be taking her siesta on a pile of tasselled cushions by a latticed window, yet sleep was miles away.
The two other Princesses were dozing nearby. Thanks to the Sultanâs orders, the shutters of the pavilion were firmly closed and, unhappily for the three Princesses, the breeze was too weak to work its way through the lattices. The heat was suffocating.
Leonor lifted the edge of her veil to fan herself and the chink of ruby and pearl bracelets echoed softly around the pavilion walls. With each breath, the gems decorating the fringe flickered like fireflies, and tiny rainbow-coloured lights danced over the tiled floor. Leonor frowned at the evanescent colours, at the brilliant arabesques patterning the pavilion walls, at the script flowing neatly over the door arch. âThere is no victor but God,â it read. Her frown deepened. As if she or her sisters could forget. âNo victor but Godâ was the motto of the Nasrid dynasty.
