The Dog Princess: A Tom Holland Fairy Tale

Let The Races Begin

The next day, the entire kingdom was bustling with excitement as the preparations for the races began. The races were the first big event of the social season, and although there were many races featuring the finest riders from lands all around, the last race in which the princesses competed for the prince's kiss was the most anticipated.

Not all citizens of the realm were celebrating. Harrison grumbled as he brought over another pair of horses over to the grand stadium. Having been up since dawn, he wasn't in a jolly mood. He handed the horses off to Tom. "That's the last two. Finally." He heaved out a large breath, exhausted.

"Haz, there's something I gotta tell you." Tom looked around anxiously. No one was around, but he was still a nervous wreck.

"What, mate? Please don't tell me there's something else back at the stables we've gotta go get—"

"No. Worse."

"Worse than another trip? This better be good Tom."

Tom frantically relayed to Harrison what happened the day before in the stables with the prince. "And he wants me to make sure she wins! Or else..."

Harrison's tiredness had faded, now feeling nothing but impending doom. "Great. How are we gonna do that? They draw their horses! How in hell are we supposed to make sure she gets the fastest one?" He paced around, his eyes dark and serious.

"I don't know." Tom shook his head.

After a minute of violent pacing, Harrison's eyes lit up as he snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" Harrison whispered his plan to Tom, who couldn't help but smile mischievously. For once, something about their job was going to be fun.

The rest of the morning Tom and Harrison rushed around, desperately trying to get everything together before the festivities began. Tom was worried the plan wouldn't work, but Harrison was pretty confident. With their knowledge of the horses, it was foolproof.

"So about how much time would we have to do all of this?" Tom asked, biting his nails as he looked at the chicken scratch Harrison called a plan in the dirt.

"Maybe...three minutes? Give or take? Don't worry mate! I'll get the saddle, you get the carrots." Harrison swiped the dirt with his boot, obliterating the evidence. He knew it was the prince that put them up to this, but he couldn't help but feeling he was rebelling against the crown. And he loved it. 

Finally the time came for the princesses to draw their horses for the race. But of course Timothée had to make a small speech. As he approached the edge of his booth high enough for all the people to see, Harrison made a knowing look toward Tom. They were about to get the same earful from all the years before.

"My loyal subjects! From the bottom of my heart I want to thank you all for celebrating the first event of the social season with me! For the third time." As if he held up a sign, there was a cheerful laughter coming from the crowd. He smiled brightly, holding up his hands for it to cease so he could continue his mind numbing speech.

"Oh, he thought he made a joke." Harrison mumbled boldly to Tom, who grimaced at the comment. Sometimes they felt like the only ones who could see through the charade.

"Thank you, thank you all so much. It has been a both a privilege and a burden to choose a bride. I am committed to our continued prosperity, and I will not rest until I find the perfect queen for my people!" Another eruption of cheers rang out as the princesses lined up at the front of the starting line. "May the best rider win today's race! And may the best queen win my hand! Let the drawing commence!"

The crowd roared as the princesses lined up to draw their horse's flag color out of a golden goblet. Tom and Harrison waited with pricked up ears a little farther back from the line, where the horses were lined up. One of them, Starlight, was already smelling the carrots Tom had tucked under his shirt. "No, girl. Not yet." He urged.