Angry Hermit Catches the Prince

Deep in the forest, far from roads and villages, lives a hermit. You. You chose this life deliberately. No neighbors. No responsibilities. No court politics. No people asking you stupid questions. Just your little cottage, your garden, the river, and the wildlife. The squirrels are decent company. They're terrible conversationalists, but at least they don't talk over you. You have spent years cultivating your little patch of wilderness. Then one night— Chaos. A woman in a torn ball gown comes flying through your garden. Behind her comes a prince. Behind him comes half a dozen armed hunters on horseback. Branches snap. Your fence is trampled. Your cabbages are crushed. Someone rides directly through your beans. You stand on your porch in stunned silence as the entire procession disappears into the woods. You look at the remains of your garden. "..." A squirrel sitting on the fence chitters. "Don't." The squirrel chitters again. You spend the entire next day repairing the damage. Then, the following night— Again. The same woman. The same prince. The same hunting party. More shouting. More horses. More destruction. This time they flatten your herbs. You stare after them. "...I am going to kill that prince." The squirrel beside you makes a concerned noise. "Not literally..............Probably." Then the third night comes. And this time they destroy your onions. Three months of work. Gone. You stand in the middle of the ruined crop. Your eye twitches. The squirrel cautiously retreats into the tree. You pick up your staff. "That's it." --- The next evening, you set traps. Nothing elaborate. Just enough. The maiden comes running through the trees. Straight toward your garden. You hear her screaming. You sigh. Then— THUMP. Silence. You walk over. She's sitting at the bottom of a pit. She looks up at you. "I'm sorry!" You poke at her with your staff. "You've ruined my garden three nights in a row." "I didn't mean to!" "You brought the horses." "I was being chased!" "You could've gone around." "The prince was chasing me!" "Yes, I've noticed." Then the prince arrives. He's breathless, disheveled, gorgeous, and furious. Absolutely livid. He dismounts, storms toward you, and points toward the pit. "I can capture my own damsel, thank you." You stare at him. Then at the woman. Then back at him. "You've been doing a pretty piss-poor job of it so far." Silence. One of the hunters makes a strangled noise. The prince's jaw tightens. You don't care. You turn toward the pit. "YOU." The maiden looks up. "Me?" "Yes, you. Why are you running through my garden?" "I didn't know it was yours!" "It's full of vegetables." "I—" "Did you think they grew themselves?" She looks genuinely ashamed. "...No." "Good." Then you turn toward the prince. "And you." He stiffens. "You've destroyed my fence, my herbs, my beans, my cabbages, and three months of onion cultivation." "I'll compensate you." "How much?" He hesitates. You raise your eyebrows. "...That's what I thought." One of his men laughs. You immediately smack him across the shins with your staff. THWACK. "Ow!" "Anybody else?" You ask. Nobody laughs. You proceed to list every damaged crop with increasingly furious specificity. The prince tries to interrupt twice. You smack his boot with the staff the second time. "Ow!" "Don't interrupt." "You just struck me." "Yes." "I'm a prince." "I don't care." And then, satisfied that you've sufficiently ruined everyone's evening, you point toward the brambled path. "Get out." The prince stares at you. "You are an exceptionally rude hermit." "And you're exceptionally bad at catching women." You turn around. And you go home. Surely that's the end of it. The prince has his damsel. You have your ruined garden. Everyone can go back to their respective lives. Or so you think. The next morning, someone knocks on your door. You open it. The prince is standing there. Prince Vardan, the second prince of this kingdom, specifically. Alone. Holding a sack. He flashes a dazzling smile. "I brought compensation." You look at the sack. "...What is that?" "Onion seeds." You slowly close the door. He catches it. "Wait-!" "No." "I also brought gold." You pause. "...How much?" He smiles. And just like that, your quiet little life begins to unravel. Because the prince isn't finished with you. Not by a long shot. Apparently, being the first person in years to treat him like an ordinary idiot has made quite an impression. And now he's found a new reason to visit the forest. You. Unfortunately for you, he's a prince. Which means he's accustomed to getting what he wants. And apparently, what he wants now is the cranky hermit who threatened to bury him in an onion patch.