Even the most ignorant person would be able to recognize their fear, their hesitance. Pulling my grey, woolen clock over my face, I tried my hardest to avoid the stares of all of the townsfolk, and to not to think about the inevitable things they were thinking. It’s the fake princess. The pseudo. The kingdom’s little lie. They were all trying to hide their thoughts, but their expressions gave them away as they just stood there, trying to get a decent look at what the fake princess really looks like.
Finally, one little boy speaks up, interrupting the empty silence. “Is that the princess, mother?” He asks, tugging on his mother’s pale lavender tunic. Her astonished expression quickly turned to embarrassment, and she rapidly hushed her son by putting her index finger to his inquisitive lips.
Not wanting to cause any further disruption to these townsfolk’s day. I rushed the rest of the way through the town centre, regretting having taken this route. My brown leather boots clopped against the stone roads as I ran, unable to do more than glimpse at the admirably beautiful architecture. The town centre was considerably small, being a single stone fountain surrounded by local vendors, but it has always been an extremely busy area, attracting travelers from all the kingdoms with its inexpensive goods, lovely citizens and clean and comfortable inns.
Queen Vendelynne, my mother, paid a lot of attention to Lavita, the capitol of her kingdom, Falaydan.
Almost into the forest, almost away from all of the people, an arm wrapped around my waist, and another around my chest, restricting both of my arms. I quickly stomped one of the attacker’s feet with the heel of my boot, loosening his strong grip enough for me to slip out of it. I whipped around to face the attacker, causing my cloak to fall off. Fortunately, though, this allowed me to easily reach my two silver daggers, which I held in the protective stance Kaleb had taught me: one leg behind the other, both bent, with one bent arm holding a dagger in front of my face, and the other in front of my sternum, both blades facing the attacker.
The attacker, recognizably male, crossed his arms over his chest, his face still hidden by an alleyway he had pulled me into. We both just stood there for a second, and I tried to resist the urge to adjust my knee length dress, the midnight blue fabric and the white underskirts flowing with the wind, the white collar sticking up from the bodice digging painfully into my neck and the corset constricting my breath.
“I’d recommend putting the knives down,” he said, and I instantly recognized that sarcastic, cocky voice.
“They are daggers, thank you very much. And you are quite aware of how paranoid I am about precautions. Being a fake princess isn’t all fun, you know,” I replied. My paranoia was legitimate, as I never went anywhere without some source of defense. Always ready for when someone will try to kill me because I’m an accidental princess.
“Just because your father isn’t of royal blood, does not imply you are not a real princess, Delylan,” Kyler said, emerging into the light. His white tunic was in desperate need of a wash, as was his brown button vest and black trousers. His brown boots, almost identical to mine, both being comfortable and easy to move around in, were perfectly clean. Priorities.
“You didn’t see the way everyone stared at me this morning!” I exclaimed.
“Curiosity, Del. It’s a weakness even to the strongest of us, and I sincerely doubt that people would kill you for it. I mean, the person that they would want to kill is your mother for having an affair with a fuller, but since she is the queen, and treats her people so well, no one bothers to care about what she did,” Kyler explained, and I understood what he was saying (although I do not wish for my mother to be killed), I was just to stubborn to really internalize it.
“Anyways, how should you know what it is like? Your father is an inventor!” I exclaimed. Kyler’s father, Mr. Ross, was one of the most interesting people I have ever met, always full of new ideas.
“He’s actually a delusional halfwit. If it wasn’t for your mother’s support of my family, I wouldn’t be able to afford anything. Not even from the town centre vendors!” He countered truthfully. Even considering Mr. Ross’ creativity, he never earned much coin for his inventions, and Kyler’s mother abandoned them right after he was born. My mother supplied Kyler with money and an education, being the gracious woman that she is.
“I think he’s a genius. Anyways the townsfolk did not appreciate me interrupting their lives. They all stared at me like I was some kind of miscreant,” I explained. Kyler lifted a corner of his mouth into a smile, mockingly, crinkling the his golden skin. His dark green eyes appeared to laugh, and he combed one his dirty hands through his overgrown, messy, dark brown hair, which grew almost to his eyelashes. Even considering the coin mother gave him, he continued to refuse to be sanitary. And yes, this is something that really annoys me.
“I see you have left your hair down today,” Kyler pointed out as I picked up my cloak, and put it back on. He’s the type of person to make this unusual accusation. My long, wavy light brown hair was in fact down today, with the exception of the long strands in the front, which I had braided and tied together at the back of my head. I just smiled in response, as we continued to make our way towards the forest.
Kyler and I had met when I had almost reached age six, and he eight. I had been wandering through the forest with Kaleb, and ran into Kyler, who at the time had been relaxing on a branch of a tree. He taught me how to climb a tree that day, and we had communed as often as possible ever since. Being two years older than me though, and being of lower class blood, he has had to begin to figure out certain aspects of his life, such as marriage and work, although such things he has blissfully ignored, and in their stead attended my lessons with Kaleb.
“What is it like, being sixteen?” I asked him, the question appearing from out of nowhere. What I actually meant to ask what it was like being sixteen, and not having to worry about the pressure of royalty, but I did not wish to insult his lifestyle.
“Very similar to being fourteen, with a little more pressure to find a bride,” he replied, not even questioning my peculiar question. That’s why we were such good friends really: we didn’t question each other, but we did a lot of questioning of everything else.
“You’d be lucky to marry some old wench!:
“Well, I do not see you being so lucky when it comes to affairs of the heart,” he said, shoving me lightly, and I shoved him back. He looked over at me, his eyes looking into my dark blue ones, and raised his eyebrows, at which I nodded in reply. Suddenly we were both running, charging through the forest, the sounds of branches breaking loudly sounding into the cloudless blue sky. When we finally reached the training grounds, practically at the exact same time, close enough that a winner could not be decided, we were both very out of breath, and collapsed for a couple minutes to regain our ability to breathe properly.
“Get up, ye old hags!” Kaleb shouted at us. We very slowly stood up, turning towards Kaleb for instructions as to what we were to do today. Kaleb wasn’t much older than Kyler and myself, or at least didn’t look a day over twenty five. His blonde hair had been tied back just above his neck, emphasizing his face made up of all muscle and harsh lines. His outfit was identical to Kyler’s, although quite a bit cleaner. His murky grey eyes glared at the two of us, and we both stood up a little straighter.
“Kyler, ye lookin’ even worse than usual today, ma boy,” Kaleb exclaimed, astonished at Kyler’s dirtiness. His accent shown clear, as he was from the Skarinian Kingdom.
“Oh, I disagree entirely. I think I would make a lovely wench, actually. I could work in the brothel, I am such a comely creature,” Kyler replied, at which I had to giggle silently at the image my mind created. Kaleb just gave him a stern look, at which Kyler just shrugged at.
“Okay so today we are going to be working on your sword skills-”
“YES!” Kyler screamed out for the entire kingdom to hear. Shooting him another one of his piercing glares, Kaleb handed both of us identical silver swords, with a hilt engraved with script I couldn’t understand.
“No armor?” I asked him, testing out the weight of the sword. Considerably light, and the blade reflected the sun’s glare, beautifully made.
“No armor,” he answered, almost smiling (which is as close as I have ever seen him get to actual smiling)
“Where did you get such bloody fantastic swords?” Kyler asked, laughing at his sword’s utter perfection.
“Someone owed me a favor, and happened to be good with an anvil,” was all Kaleb would say, and then motioned for us to move onto the training grounds, where the grass is replaced by sand.
“Um, where are the dummies?”
“You two are going to practice on each other,”
“What?!” Kyler and I screamed in unison.
“I would not call myself a betting man, but Kyler has quite the advantage here,” Kaleb said walking off the training grounds and back onto the grass. I snarled at his back, but then turned around to face Kyler, accepting Kaleb’s challenge.
Kyler smiled at me, squinting his eyes to find any of my weak points. Wherever they were, I tried my best not to make them shown. After a couple seconds of just standing there, we both came to realize (with a bit of encouragement from Kaleb), that we were actually going to fight each other, although we also knew that it wouldn’t be much of a fight considering we would both hate harming each other.
He took the first swing, which I blocked and counter attacked, which he dodged and counter attacked, which was a pattern that continued for quite a while before I finally found his weakness, when I actually bothered to consider his weakness having something to do with the lower half of us body. When he swung his sword, his left knee would jam into place, leaving it vulnerable for at least a couple seconds after an attack, which I would assume is from when he had once fallen out of tree and messed up his knee pretty bad.
On Kyler’s next attack, I blocked his sword with my own, and swung my right foot around to his left knee, pulling it forwards and sending him off balance. While he regained his stance, I was able to turn to my left, allowing me to do a roundhouse kick, delivering my left foot to his right shoulder (not a hard enough blow though to actually cause any serious damage), knocking him to the dusty ground.
I pointed the tip of my sword to my neck, about to say something witty, when a messenger came running from the forest, and up to Kaleb. The messenger whispered in Kaleb’s ear for a little while, in which time Kyler stood up, and Kaleb started to nod in understanding. Turning to us, he explained what was going on. “It appears as though there’s some trouble up at the castle. Ye mum, Delylan, would like you and Kyler to get up there immediately,” and then the messenger whispered something else into Kaleb’s ear, “and it appears I’m s’posed to join ya,” Kaleb said, obviously not very pleased with the idea.
“Is everything alright?” I asked, worried.
“Truth be told, I don’t really know,” Kaleb replied, and the three of us (the messenger has messages to send) mounted two of Kaleb’s horses, Kaleb on one, Kyler and I on another.
Ember Bound 