“Are you going to untie me?”

“No,” she said, rummaging through a saddle pack, seeming to be looking for something. The firelight glinted off her blue eyes. Nothing else could be seen in the dark.

“You do realize that I’m a prince, I control an entire country.”

She paused and then resumed looking for something. “I control a group who all control 1200 pound animals that could easily kill any of us.”

“Mines still better,” the prince muttered.

The cowgirl paused, finally pulling something out of her bag. Her bay mare snorted as she stared at the prince.

The prince stretched over to try to see what was in the cowgirl’s hand. The blood drained from his face. A knife.

The cowgirl stalked closer. The prince held his breath and closed his eyes.

But his end never came.

Instead the ropes around him crumpled to the ground.

She sighed. “I hate to say this, like really hate to say it, but we have more in common than I would care to admit. So I can either tie you up again or we can make a deal.