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Once upon a time...
There lived a beautiful royal couple whose marriage had been a glorious spectacle, one that was sure to be talked about for ages to come. Everyone—villagers and servants and chancellors alike—agreed that their children would be beautiful too. The queen gave birth to three beautiful children: Princess Lydia, their eldest child and daughter with a fair and inquisitive mind; Prince Derek, their middle child and only son with an open and honest soul; and Princess Cora, their youngest child and daughter with a penchant for playful mischief. The kingdom was flush with happiness at the royal family, as their future seemed bright and full of good fortune.
Alas, the King and Queen did not have a happily ever after. Unbeknownst to their gracious subjects, they grew disenfranchised with each other shortly after Princess Cora's birth. Those within the castle aware of these happenings did not know why or how this disenfranchisement came about—some suspected an evil curse had befallen them—but the results were devastating. The children learnt to withdraw into themselves and to put on pretenses of normalcy, imitations of their parents who wore smiles with each other for the sake of the kingdom. As time passed, the royal family eventually forgot what true happiness felt like.
Princess Lydia had lived ten years and some when she forgot. At times she would play with her brother or her sister and catch a glimpse of it in the recesses of her mind, but it soon dashed away. Other times her lady-in-waiting and closest friend Lady Allison would tell her a joke passed on from Prince Derek's favourite sparring partner, Squire Scott, and a peal of her own laughter would catch her off guard, but its echoes faded too fast. Her memories were the only reminders that she had been happy once.
Now, the closest the princess ever got to that childhood happiness was when she was amidst her books, soaking up as much knowledge as she could. Even then, it paled significantly. Her books were too static, her teachers too old-fashioned, and the air in the castle was too stifling, laced with the tensions that existed between the King and the Queen.
Within the hidden depths of the library archives, she discovered a magic book, the tome thick and well-worn. Armed with the knowledge that magic existed, with Lady Allison's help she secretly sneaked out and sought teachers of the craft. She came upon a trio of witches who were willing to impart their ways: Marin the Witch of Mystique, explorer of the strange and unknown; Kali the Witch of Empowerment, seeker of simplicity and liberation; and Jennifer the Witch of Spirit, reveller in the earthly and divine.
Through a series of extended nighttime sessions, the trio was able to impart much knowledge to the princess, but try as they might, they did not know how to teach her the path to reclaim what she had lost.
To the concerns of Lady Allison and the witches, Princess Lydia was growing more weary by the day. Lady Allison found it more difficult to rouse the princess from her bed each morning while the witches were forced to make their teaching sessions shorter each day.
This lethargy extended itself to a lesser extent in Prince Derek and Princess Cora. It did not escape the notice of those employed within the castle, who all did as much as they could to keep the royal children from falling deeper into their ailments. Nothing appeared to be effective. The King and the Queen were so caught up with themselves and their kingdom that they remained oblivious to their children's failing health.
Princess Lydia's coming-of-age ceremony was soon upon her and with it, her betrothal prospects. She did not wish to welcome all of these princes and their brigades. She did not want to be the centre of attention at whatever festivities was to come, but begrudged them when she saw how they animated the King and the Queen. And for a time being, she even convinced herself that a prince could lead her down the path to true happiness.
Prince Jackson was the first of the princes to arrive. He had oft heard of Princess Lydia's great beauty and with his intent of winning her over, arrived with lavish gifts in a display of his great wealth. Gifts came one after another after another—gilded golden cups adorned with swans of grace, the finest of silks embroidered with the most delicate designs—until even the King and the Queen conceded quietly between themselves that his generosity was overbearing.
Princess Lydia may have agreed with them too, if not for the effort required to evaluate him through the veil of drowsiness. She examined Prince Jackson with a critical eye and did not find him lacking physically with his sharp looks, masculine figure, and confident posture. She listened to him wax poetic about her beauty and did not find him lacking in certain intellect, concluding that stimulating conversations with him could be had.
"... the sun's flames entombed in your flowing locks..."
Alas, as his servants continued to present her with his endless train of gifts, she came to a devastating observation. Despite her best efforts to focus on and discern Prince Jackson's compatibility and potential with herself, her eyes kept drawing themselves away, his voice fading into the background unheard. Instead, she found herself drawn to one of his servants.
Yes, the servant was dressed plainly. Yes, the servant said no words nor glanced up in her direction. Yes, the servant was a woman.
She swallowed down words to pull the servant's full attention to her and forced her breathing to remain even. She had long suspected her attraction to women in addition or in opposition to men but denial had been a close friend. Denial kept her safe. In this case, princesses could not marry servants.
The princess went to bed that night with a heavier weight on her shoulders, feeling wearier than ever.
Princess Lydia sneaked out to see the witches in the early morning, uncertain whether to entrust them with her secret. She had not even mentioned word of it to Lady Allison.
She understood too well her responsibilities as royalty to marry and pass on lineage but with her affliction, would any of that matter if she became too ill to move, let alone bear children? There was a part of her that knew finding happiness would cure her but when confronted with her attraction to women, she knew in the depths of her heart that no prince, no matter how many came, would bring her what she sought.
Responsibility warred with selfish reason but in the end, she chose not to mention her attraction to the prince's servant.
Witch Jennifer looked up from a glowing cauldron. "What bade you to arrive so early, child?"
"Prince Jackson arrived for my hand in marriage."
"Ah, yes, marriage," Witch Marin acknowledged, her voice full of whimsy. "The royals do put so much importance in it."
"And?" Witch Kali attempted to pour a vial into the cauldron but was shooed away by Witch Jennifer.
Princess Lydia sighed. "He loves me for my beauty, he holds great wealth and intellect, but he will not—he will not lead me to happiness."
"Then refuse him and wait for another," Witch Kali said.
"Refuse him?"
"You are the princess, are you not? They are the ones seeking your favour, not you theirs. It is well within your right to refuse every prince until you find the right one."
The words were true but the princess hesitated.
"What do you truly fear, princess?" Witch Kali's sharp eyes bored into her.
She trembled. "I fear..." It felt like her secret was no longer hers but did the witches truly know? "I fear that no prince will bring me happiness."
Witch Marin roused from her dream-like state. "Then take it."
"Marin!" Witch Kali admonished.
"No," Witch Marin snapped back. "Good intentions mean nothing if she withers away."
Witch Jennifer stepped between the glaring witches. "My dears. This is Lydia's decision to make." She looked to the princess. "It is your life, after all. Are you willing to take happiness from the prince that seeks your hand to nourish your lack thereof?"
The faint memories of the past spoke of a better life, her life. There was no other answer.
"Yes."
The witch trio worked with the princess to craft a gold necklace, its plain appearance belying the complexity of the magic it contained. The trigger was an act of love: a simple kiss. For was it not love that had given countless couples bliss and joy?
Princess Lydia led Prince Jackson out into the garden soon thereafter, as time was of the essence. Not only did she need to prevent an unwanted marriage but she could sense her impeding end if she did not take steps to thwart it, even if only for a little while.
"I do hope our merriment has not been overwhelming," Prince Jackson said with concern. The princess' careful movements to disguise her weariness had not gone unnoticed. "It would be a shame to tire you out before we are wed."
"It would be indeed," she replied. She had not been able to avoid his company as her necklace was being crafted. Instead, they had filled the time with banter and games, and she had grown rather fond of him. She steeled herself. Her necklace, a single golden cord around her neck, shimmered in the moonlight, its humming magic calming her for the task to come.
She led him even deeper into the gardens, away from prying eyes. When she turned to him and saw the twinkle in his eyes, the undeniable spark of happiness, she waited, quietly offering him one last chance as she wished for her own body and mind to respond in turn. Her heart continued to beat steadily and her mind remained rational. The smile she gave him was one she had seen Lady Allison make many times to Squire Scott. As if on cue, Prince Jackson smiled back and stepped in closer to her.
"You are the most beautiful," he whispered, interlocking his hands with hers. "I am so happy to be yours."
His lips brushed over hers.
The necklace hummed in response and the prince froze in the chaste kiss as the magic overtook him, swirling around his body and penetrating the depths of his mind. Then the magic retreated into the now glowing necklace. Prince Jackson stumbled back, dazed. After a moment of confused contemplation, he bid his goodbyes and departed from the garden.
The morning after, he came to her. "My apologies for yesterday. I know not what came over me."
"You have done nothing wrong." Perhaps she was the one in the wrong, but for the first time since she could remember, she had woken up refreshed and ready to face the world.
He shook his head, his expression forlorn. "When I first saw you, I imagined I could love you—no, I felt I did love you. I was so delighted we were to wed! Alas, yesterday revealed that I hold no true love for you, and a marriage without true love is an unhappy marriage indeed. Keep my gifts as a gesture of good faith, but I cannot marry you."
She graciously accepted his refusal. While she had grown attached to him, it did neither of them any good if he remained. So it was that Prince Jackson left the kingdom without his happiness.
Princess Lydia's surge of energy pleased her as she roused more easily and was enabled to do more. Even Prince Derek and Princess Cora appeared in better spirits. It did not go unnoticed by those observing, especially Lady Allison. It lifted their hopes of seeing the kingdom return to greatness.
Alas, the reality was far crueler. Princess Lydia began to experience the draining sap on her strength as the happiness she had taken lost its potency. While she found herself retiring to her bedchamber earlier and earlier again, so too did Prince Derek and Princess Cora withdraw into themselves.
Frustrated after such promising beginnings, Princess Lydia could only wait for her next suitor.
Prince Stiles arrived with his chest puffed and his head held high, proud of his many acclaimed achievements. And oh, how he told stories of them! He brought with him entertainers to aid the illustrious tales he told with a sparkle in his eye. Yet, even as he beckoned alluringly, Princess Lydia could not help but find her tired eyes straying to the female dancers, lithe and nimble with their steps, grace and strength and beauty eliciting a reaction she quickly suppressed.
Princess Lydia took more care to avoid fondness with Prince Stiles. She did not have to make much effort to do so. Their conversations were skewed towards the prince's tales, where she questioned validity and over-exaggerations, but he laughed and continued on, content to engage with her on this superficial level.
Throwing caution to the wind, she drew him into the garden and enticed him to kiss her.
The prince came to her the morning after, his expression downcast. He expressed his regret at not feeling love for a maiden as fair as her. He too placed value in true love. So it was that Prince Stiles left the kingdom without his happiness.
Talk of the unsuccessful suitors began to spread within the kingdom. Within the royal court, there was fear that their kingdom was to be cursed forever, even as the royal children were animated once more.
Yet once again, Princess Lydia experienced the now-familiar fall into lethargy. The glances of suspicion and whispers between Lady Allison and Squire Scott escaped her notice as she lamented these highs and lows. Was this really an improvement to her original fate? She did not doubt that she was deceiving herself but there were no other alternatives, not if she wanted to live.
Before long, Prince Derek's coming-of-age ceremony was upon him, and with it, his prospects for marriage. As a token of good faith, Prince Isaac arrived with his younger sister, Princess Erica, as a potential wife for Prince Derek.
Prince Isaac first strolled into the court before the King, the Queen, and their children, greeting each with a bow. Then he introduced the many exotic foods and drinks he brought as samples of his many travels. Princess Lydia paid no mind to his words and his actions as she daydreamed of how his happiness could vitalize her.
Then Princess Lydia's heart stopped momentarily and for the first time, began to beat aflutter.
Princess Erica had graced the court. Lustrous golden locks tumbled down to frame her full, rosy cheeks, bouncing as she twirled around, light on her feet, to show off her lovely dress. She came to a stop and curtsied with elegance in front of the King and the Queen. Then she curtsied in turn to Princess Lydia, Prince Derek, and Princess Cora, her curious gaze lingering longest on Prince Derek.
After a full course dinner complete with jest and entertainment, Prince Isaac and Princess Erica retired to their guest chambers.
Princess Lydia desired to do the same, tired as she was, but an even greater desire pulsed through her body. Though her mind warned her, she pushed thought aside and proceeded to seek out Princess Erica.
The princess approached Princess Erica's chambers, ducking away when Prince Isaac appeared to be heading towards her own chambers. Once his retreating back was out of sight, she slipped down the hall and knocked on the door to Princess Erica's bedchamber.
A moment passed, and then another. She feared that she had missed the princess when the door opened.
Princess Erica's lady-in-waiting was at the door. She curtsied upon seeing Princess Lydia. "Good evening, Your Highness."
"Good evening. You are?"
"Malia, Your Highness."
"Good evening, Malia. Is your mistress in her chambers?"
"She is. Shall I tell my lady that Your Highness is here to see her?"
"Yes, please do."
Lady Malia disappeared inside the room. Princess Lydia strained to make out the murmurs but was unsuccessful as the lady-in-waiting was back to invite her inside.
The princess followed her to find Princess Erica combing her hair, at ease in her sleeping gown. The sight left Princess Lydia momentarily speechless.
"Good evening, Your Highness," Princess Erica said, her smile brilliant and charming as she rose to curtsy.
Princess Lydia used the reference to her formal form of address to remind herself that this visit was not meant to be casual. "Good evening, Lady Erica. I trust the room is to your liking?"
"It is quite cosy. The flowers on the dresser remind me of home. But," she cocked her head in curiosity, "you are not here to merely inquire after my comfort."
"I'm not," Princess Lydia admitted. "I want to—"
"Determine if I am worthy for your brother, I know," Princess Erica sighed.
She laughed. "No, I want us to be acquainted. We will be sisters soon, after all, will we not?"
Having had no sisters of her own, Princess Erica lit up in anticipation and soon the princesses found themselves conversing late into the night. Princess Lydia only left, loathe as she was to do so, when she knew she was in danger of falling asleep where she was. Oh, she had never wished for a cure to her affliction as much as she did that night.
The prospective sisters-to-be soon became good friends. If neither were occupied with accompanying their potential husbands-to-be, they were often found deep in conversation with the occasional giggle or two. As the days passed, her wedding to Prince Isaac was officially announced.
Lady Allison was one of the few to notice the princess grow stronger and stronger, although she observed with trepidation, discussing it only with Squire Scott. Her scepticism was countered by his observation that Princess Lydia was in love with Princess Erica. Upon keeping a closer eye on the princesses, she could not deny it. She knew then that Princess Lydia could not marry Prince Isaac.
"You are appearing more beautiful by the day, ma'am," Lady Allison voiced one day, as she assisted Princess Lydia with the morning preparations.
"Am I?" The princess blushed at the compliment, watching her reflection in the mirror. "I wonder why."
"You are eating more of your meals and getting more fresh air, ma'am."
"Yes, I am," Princess Lydia said, smiling to agreement.
"You are also in love."
"I am?"
Princess Lydia did not know what to make of Lady Allison's words. Was it true? She found it hard to believe but could not hold back the seed of hope.
When she tentatively brought up the possibility to the witches, it excited them. Witch Jennifer was the most excited as she clasped the princess' hand. "You are in love!" she squealed in delight.
Witch Marin was also pleased as Witch Kali nodded. "There is no other way to describe it."
"I... I am in love."
Having a name to her feelings somehow made it harder for her to be around Princess Erica. She was too aware of her reactions—the quickening of her breath, the stumbling of words—but despite it all, she could not help herself. She was in love with Princess Erica. She felt it within the core of her being, and knew it brought her closer to achieving what had felt so impossible to reach before: true happiness.
Alas, the realizations came hand-in-hand with the guilt. For if this was what happiness felt like, what right had she had to take it away from Prince Jackson and Prince Stiles? She could only leave her magicked necklace locked away but its weight continued to press down on her neck, taunting her.
It was only a few days before the wedding and Princess Lydia was overwhelmed with her predicament. The longer she denied herself, the more precarious her situation became. She knew she had to confess soon to somehow right her wrongdoings.
They were sitting by the garden fountain, enjoying the weather when Princess Erica caught Princess Lydia daydreaming again. "What is on your mind?" Her eyes sparkled with laughter.
"I—" Princess Lydia stammered out as the colour rose to her cheeks.
"It is not like you to be at a loss for words."
Princess Lydia surreptitiously glanced around the garden. When she was certain that no one else was around, she whispered, her eyes downcast, "I love you."
The response came unexpectedly fast. "I love you too. I cannot wait for—"
"No," Princess Lydia interrupted louder than she intended. She rose her gaze to meet Princess Erica's as her voice lowered back into a whisper, "I'm in love with you."
Princess Erica fell silent. Then, "You... and me?"
Princess Lydia could only nod, having already reached the limits of her courage.
"You are... more inclined to the fairer sex?" Princess Erica whispered, her eyes darting for miscreant eavesdroppers, curiosity lining her words. "How do you know?"
"I feel," Princess Lydia felt there was no other way to describe it as she reached out to delicately intertwine their hands. "My heart quickens, beating unbearably. My hands long to touch you, keep you close. My eyes see only you."
"And... other women?"
"I have always found myself drawn to them, moreso than men."
"But my brother—"
"Will not make me happy. You will."
Princess Erica stood up, agitated, losing the contact between their hands. "You say it as if I can replace my brother at your wedding."
"Would you?"
"I—that is not a question you should be asking me. What about heirs? What about your brother?"
"Heirs do not matter if I do not live long enough to have them. If I cannot find happiness, I will wither away."
"Except you are here in perfect health!"
"Because of you. I am happy, unbelievably happy with you. And because—because I have done the unspeakable."
The ominous words only caused more agitation. "What have you done?"
"I practice magic," Princess Lydia admitted, silently pleading. "I have a necklace... it helped me take happiness from the princes that came before."
Princess Erica drew in a trembling breath. "Were you going to take my brother's happiness?"
"If... he had come alone, yes."
She recoiled. "You have been too selfish."
"I know," Princess Lydia choked out as she scrambled to stand up, wanting to give the other princess space, knowing that this was the inevitable outcome. "I only wanted to be happy."
Then she dashed out of the garden and could not stop her tears.
Princess Erica retreated to her chambers, the sight of Princess Lydia in tears worrying enough to bother her. She loved the princess as a sister, did she not? The upcoming marriage would solidify that relationship. She did not need more. Did she?
She imagined life after the marriage. Princess Lydia, a queen in her own right, would be regal and just. There would be dear children—her nephews and nieces—running around in the nursery, shrieking in delight. Queen Lydia would be content, but then not. She would struggle to the throne from her chambers, severely weakened from her ailment, as Princess Erica would have married Prince Derek. Visits between kingdoms would become rarer as their responsibilities grew. The visits would not be enough, rushed embraces and kisses—
Princess Erica gasped as the image of kissing Princess Lydia seared itself into her mind.
Lady Malia rushed to her side. "Ma'am, are you unwell?"
"No, no. But oh, Malia."
"What is it, ma'am?"
"What are your thoughts about the upcoming wedding?"
Lady Malia cocked her head. "The union between the kingdoms would be beneficial."
"What about their happiness?"
"If they are happy, then they are happy."
"And if they are unhappy?"
Lady Malia fell silent.
"Malia?"
"I have heard that Her Highness... loves you."
Princess Erica's heart clenched at hearing that word again. "And? Do you think I have the same feelings towards her?"
"That is not for me to say, ma'am."
The princess took a deep breath, struggling to control her frustration. "I do not want to act rashly."
"What do you truly want?"
"I want..." Princess Erica felt lost as emotions conflicted. She loved her brother dearly. Acknowledging her feelings for Princess Lydia felt like a betrayal—no, it was a betrayal to her brother. Yet if the ailment was true, she could never forgive herself if the marriage proceeded and the princess passed away. She would be the most miserable with the knowledge that she could have prevented it by acting on her feelings, by being true to herself. The tightness in her chest was proof as was the twinge in her heart at the thought of losing Princess Lydia.
The tears sprung to her eyes as the thought fully formed for the first time, as she whispered to herself, "I love her."
Lady Malia bowed her head in acknowledgement as Princess Erica stood, remembering in vivid detail her last words to Princess Lydia. She had to rectify them before it was too late, because now she had reason to be selfish too.
"Lydia! Lydia!" Her whispers were frantically trying to cut through the hole of despair Princess Lydia had fallen into.
But when the door to the princess' room opened, Lady Allison was there with a firm hand. "Her Highness does not wish to see you."
"I need to—"
"No. Leave before I call the guard."
"But—"
Squire Scott rounded the corner. "Is there a problem here, my lady?" he asked Lady Allison, who stared pointedly at Princess Erica.
The princess relented for the night.
It was the day before the wedding. Princess Erica had continued her efforts to talk with Princess Lydia, but had been deterred each time by either Lady Allison or Squire Scott. She was almost at her limit but when there was still time, there was still hope.
To her surprise, she found Prince Isaac knocking on the door and asking after Princess Lydia. She was dismayed when the door opened and he was allowed to step inside. The fire within her roared. It was now or never. She knew what Princess Lydia meant to do with her brother and if she was too late she could never forgive either of them nor herself. So she barreled through the open door, past a protesting Lady Allison, after her foolish brother. She threw herself between prince and princess.
"Erica?"
She ignored her brother's confusion and focused on the princess, a shadow of her former self. The sight of grief's aftermath almost destroyed her but seeing the necklace around the princess' neck reinforced her determination.
Yet Princess Lydia affixed her with a steely gaze, its effect softened with the tears threatening to spill over. "Do not interfere."
"No."
"I do not wish to do this anymore than you do, but you know I must."
"You do not have to!"
"You do not wish to marry me?" Prince Isaac asked Princess Lydia, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Urgency lined Princess Lydia's voice as she began to reach for the prince. "I—"
"I love you!"
All parties in the room—prince, princess, and lady-in-waiting—stared at Princess Erica in astonishment. Princess Lydia's eyes continued to shimmer as her smile trembled, while Princess Erica took the outstretched hand and slowly brought it hovering close to her lips. The public display of affection caused Lady Allison to gasp and Prince Isaac to storm off.
Princess Erica's heart broke at the prince's departure but it also swelled when she found her arms full of Princess Lydia, the embrace leaving her breathless. Lady Allison took this as her cue to leave, grinning to herself as she glanced back to take note of how beautiful the princesses were together. It was time to spread the good news throughout the castle.
Now alone, Princess Erica breathed out as the tension fell from her body, still intertwined with Princess Lydia. When they pulled apart from each other, the necklace's sparkle caught her eye.
"Take it off."
Princess Lydia's hand went to her throat as she traced the length of the gold, feeling the magic hum. She unclasped it and let it pool in her hand, silently mourning the princes from where its happiness came from. She set it on her dressing table.
At the unspoken invitation, Princess Erica stepped forward, closer and closer into her space, backing her up until there was no more space left to back into. Heat from the searing proximity and loving gaze surrounded her, inside and out.
"Look at me."
Princess Lydia obliged, casting her eyes upward.
And found herself caught in a kiss. She responded in kind, not being able to hold back the overwhelming happiness that was flooding her senses. Her tears finally fell, full of joyous sensation. A few tears made their way to the necklace and she felt the magic click as the captive happiness was set free. It streamed out of the the window to travel lands far and wide until it reached its respective owners, to fill them up with hope in finding happy endings.
Alas, one last obstacle stood between the princesses and their happy ending.
Prince Isaac had informed the royal court of their arrangement, spitting with anger. In turn, the King and the Queen were not pleased. They called their daughter to stand before them and the royal court.
So she stood unflinchingly, before her parents, before her siblings, and before Prince Isaac. Princess Erica ached to go to her, to take her hand in comfort. She refrained, if only to not incite the court against them. A guard stood nearby to keep watch over her.
Chancellor Chris addressed the princess. "Princess Lydia, you are here today on behalf of Prince Isaac's testimony. He claims you are consorting with another."
"That is correct."
The collective gasp was audible and the King's complexion purpled while the Queen took a sharp intake of breath.
The chancellor continued after he recovered from his shock. "He also claims that the one you are consorting with is," and he paused in his disbelief, "Princess Erica."
There was another collective gasp, ignored by Princess Lydia as she confirmed it. "That is also correct."
"Princess Erica?" he prompted.
Princess Erica held herself proudly, staring the chancellor down. "It is true."
Murmurs grew in the court as the King stood, his eyes darkening with simmering rage. "You have overstepped, Lydia."
"I want what is best for myself."
"So do we. So does Prince Isaac. We also want what is best for the kingdom. You have put that in jeopardy. To appease the prince, we have agreed that it is best if he married your sister—"
"No!"
"—and Princess Erica is hereby forbidden from stepping foot in my kingdom again. She has until nightfall to leave."
"Then my brother?"
The King dismissed her concern. "There is time and princesses aplenty."
The princess was shaking with the force of her suppressed anger. "And me?"
Princess Erica's words tumbled out in interruption before she could reason against them. "I challenge Prince Isaac."
"You what?" Prince Isaac was flabbergasted as his hand flew instinctively to his sword's hilt.
She pushed on. "I challenge you for Princess Lydia's hand in marriage. We will fight as knights do, and," she stared at him straight in the eyes as she made her taunting declaration, "I know you will not win, brother."
"Such arrogance! You cannot best me."
"Then you will not refuse, if you are so confident in yourself. Otherwise I will leave with Princess Lydia tonight, unhindered."
"Prince Isaac—" The King's plea of reason went unheard.
"You will wish I had refused, sister," Prince Isaac spat out. "I accept your challenge."
With so many at court as witness, it was a challenge neither prince nor princess, brother nor sister, could back out of. Both had no intention of doing so.
The King and the Queen endeavoured to call this nonsense to a halt but there were those with high influence in the court who argued that the challenge was a fair judgement between the siblings. Instead, so as not to alarm the kingdom's populace, the court arranged to disguise the challenge as a tournament to take place before the wedding as part of the festivities.
But winner or not, the King and the Queen did not intend to let their daughter run off with another princess.
The princesses were forced to remain separate that night before the wedding. Filled with apprehension, Princess Lydia worked with Lady Allison to concoct an escape plan and hoped that Princess Erica knew what she was doing.
When Lady Allison left for the night, leaving only the guards in front of Princess Lydia's room, the princess began working on her part of the plan. She took the various scraps of cloth and clothing that her lady-in-waiting had gathered for her and fashioned them into a human silhouette. Then she called upon the power within her and her surroundings to begin weaving in the magic of illusion.
She worked tirelessly until the sun peaked over the horizon, its rays touching her with its warmth while also serving as her warning. It was officially her wedding day.
The tournament began when the sun was almost at its peak. On her parents' wishes, Princess Lydia gave her blessing to Prince Isaac before the crowd of spectators, tying a sash around his arm. She had magicked the sash with the honesty she wanted him to understand.
With the help of Lady Allison and Squire Scott, she navigated past the guards and ducked into Princess Erica's tent, where Lady Malia was acting as the stable boy, too familiar with dressing her mistress this way. Princess Lydia's breath caught in her throat as she saw her princess in armour, cutting a sharp profile edged with grace. She caught herself before she tripped in her distracted awe.
Of course, Princess Erica noticed, causing Princess Lydia to blush as she stepped closer to tie on a sash imbued with all of her love. She mumbled, her eyes downcast, "This look becomes you."
Princess Erica lifted her chin. "Have faith. I will best my brother."
"I am not concerned about your brother. The King and Queen have picked out two of their best knights and I fear—"
"I was trained as a knight in jest but I was one of the few who took it seriously. One of the best knights in my kingdom took me under his tutelage. I can do this."
"You do not have to." Princess Lydia felt she was at fault. If she had not been afflicted...
"I do," Princess Erica said, keeping her hold on her princess' chin to reassure her. "It is safer than revealing your magic."
When the armour was fastened securely, she tugged Princess Lydia closer to peck her lips. "For good luck. And do not worry. No matter the outcome, we will find our happiness together."
Then the princess put on her helmet and stood as a knight.
Princess Erica was introduced as a mysterious knight from her kingdom, a bald eagle caught in flight adorning her shield as her emblem. Her first opponent was Sir Danny. He cut an imposing figure as he sat high on his horse, his lance sparkling in the sunlight. Well-known and well-liked, the crowd cheered loudly for him.
The borrowed horse Princess Erica rode shuffled from time to time, unfamiliar with its rider. She wished she had her own horse to settle her eternal unease with jousting, but her anonymity had been a challenge stipulation. So she did her best to keep the horse in line while staying alert to the other knight as they faced off.
She grunted at the impact of his joust on her shield as her focus was divided on unseating him and remaining seated. They turned back to face each other with a fresh lance in hand.
Sir Danny unseated Princess Erica in the second round but she stumbled to her feet and drew her sword. He dismounted in response and their swords clanged, the sounds mingling with the cheering crowd. Then he made a misstep and found himself staring at the tip of her sword. He pulled off his helmet, acknowledging defeat as he clapped Princess Erica on the shoulder. When he caught Princess Lydia's eye, he winked, startling her.
Her next opponent was Sir Boyd, another crowd favourite. Already exhausted from her previous fight, Princess Erica barely kept her seat in the first round of jousting. She shifted her weight in the next round to unseat herself with minimal impact, knowing that her strength lay in swordwork. Again, swords clashed until Sir Boyd fell for a feint and Princess Erica's sword tapped where she could have delivered a fatal blow.
Sir Boyd pulled off his helmet, clasping forearms with Princess Erica. "Take care of the princess."
Grateful that her helmet obscured her shocked expression, she resisted the urge to whirl around to face him, to ask him what he meant with those words. Her heart swelled at the unexpected support and her spirit was re-energized. She was going to win.
The crowd roared for their princess' bethrothed as Prince Isaac trotted out on his horse, helmet tucked until his arm as he waved, pale at the prospect of facing his sister, whom had just bested this kingdom's greatest.
Uncertain at how much more jousting she could take, Princess Erica allowed her brother to unseat her in the first round. She bounced back to her feet and brandished her sword at him in challenge. He was on the verge of refusing but the crowd cheered for him to take the sure win, pushing him to dismount and draw his own sword. As soon as he was in position, she rushed at him, unwilling to hold back even as tears streaked down her face. Why could he not see that her life lay with Princess Lydia? She would have done anything for his blessing.
She screamed in frustration as she delivered a blow that unbalanced him, giving her an opening to shove him to the ground. Before he could recover, her sword was at his throat. Her chest heaved with exertion as she pulled off her helmet, not caring about her tears, causing the crowd to fall silent when they realized that this knight was Princess Erica, sister to Prince Isaac. They murmured amongst themselves in confusion.
Prince Isaac made to get up but Princess Erica's sword did not waver. She turned to the King and the Queen. "We had an agreement."
The Queen arose and her words were true and clear. "We did not. Your agreement was with Prince Isaac."
Her blood boiled. Then pandemonium seized the people when Princess Lydia tried to escape.
"Guards, seize her!"
"Lydia!"
All other shouts were eclipsed by the crowd as they tried to make sense of the situation. Did the King and the Queen intend to capture their own daughter? Why had Princess Erica taken part in the tournament? What was the intention of—?
Princess Lydia struggled to maintain her illusion as she waded into the throng to make her way to her princess, her beloved knight. She did not dare to look back to see how her imitation fared.
She grasped Princess Erica's hand, ignoring the shock of the cold metal against her skin. Princess Erica glanced down sharply at her, reminding her that she was still cloaked in her magic. She strained to enlarge her illusion without dropping it, a harder feat when the other was dressed conspicuously as a knight.
Sufficiently covered, Princess Lydia led their way to the stables, where Lady Allison, Lady Malia, and Squire Scott waited for them, having prepared horses and food for travelling. To her delight, Prince Derek and Princess Cora were also there to see her off. The illusion fell away as she let go of Princess Erica's hand to embrace them, the tears welling up.
"You know magic!" Princess Cora whispered in her ear, sniffling a little.
Princess Lydia giggled through her tears as she kissed her sister's cheek. "I do." She whispered where the witch trio lived in their secret place.
Her sister nodded, putting a finger to her lips before asking, "Will I ever see you again?"
"One day," she promised. "When this is all over."
"When I find a princess to fight for! Or a prince. Or a dragon!" The young princess then ran to Princess Erica, ambushing her with a hug.
"This is the right thing to do," Prince Derek said. "It does us no good to stay here."
"You are leaving?" This was the first she had heard of it.
The prince nodded, sheepish. "You were already dealing with enough. I did not want to worry you as well."
"We have been through too much," she acknowledged solemnly. She glanced at her sister. "Take care of Cora for me. And yourself."
"Safe journeys, sister."
Princess Lydia and Princess Erica left the stables first, accompanied by Lady Malia. Princess Lydia kept twisting around in her saddle for one last look at her siblings and her dear friends.
"Relax, Lydia. You will see them again."
"I know, but I was so caught up with myself before that I—"
"They know how much you love them," but Princess Erica's voice choked up at the thought of her own brother.
Princess Lydia paused. "I hope he understands."
The armoured princess could only nod.
They rode off into the horizon and lived, perhaps happily ever after.
The end.