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Pained screams filled the halls of the royal palace.
Alain paced up and down the hallway, his face pale with anxiety as he watched the maids rush in and out of his wife’s bedchambers. He wanted to go inside and comfort her, to reassure her that he was with her, but both his mother and Chloe and forbidden it. His presence would only distract the midwives and maids from doing their duties, they said.
“Worrying is not going to help, my son.” His mother told him when she forced him out of the chambers, her voice firm but still understanding. “I am speaking from experience, after all.”
It took another two hours before Yahna’s cries finally subsided.
That was when Chloe stepped out of the chambers, a warm and congratulatory smile on her face. “Alain, I mean, Your Majesty… It is done.”
Alain wasted little time rushing inside. There he saw Yahna lying in bed, flanked by his mother and the midwives. She was drenched in sweat and her hair was in a tousled mess.
In his mother’s arms was a bundle of blankets, which Alain knew held their newborn child. The sight lifted an immense weight off Alain’s chest and shoulders, but he knew not to rest on his laurels just yet.
“My darling,” he began as he took his place by Yahna’s bedside, “how are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better,” she offered a weak smile, her voice hoarse from all the screaming, “but I’ll pull through. I have lived for almost ninety years, and not once have I experienced an ordeal such as this.”
Alain shook his head, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Yahna’s forehead. “I would face Galerius himself one more time than experience what you have gone through.”
A weak chuckle escaped her lips. “Be careful what you wish for, my dear husband, lest he return from the grave.”
His mother walked up to them, still cradling the baby in her arms. Alain noticed that her eyes seemed to be twinkling in the candlelight.
“Would you like to hold her?” She asked softly, a proud smile on her face. “I’m sure she wants to meet her father.”
“So it is a girl.” Alain mused.
“Of course,” Yahna remarked with a smirk. “Just as I predicted, did I not?”
They had oft-discussed the child’s sex, and it was Yahna who had been insistent that their firstborn would be a daughter.
“Indeed, you did.” Alain could not help but chuckle as he planted a kiss on his wife’s forehead.
He turned to his mother with outstretched arms, allowing her to ease the child into them. Carefully cradling the babe against his breast, he gently brushed aside the blanket so he could get a good look at his daughter.
The sight was enough to tug at his heartstrings. The most striking feature was the tuft of blue hair atop her head, the most distinctive feature of the Cornian royal family. But her eyes were those of her mother’s – a pair of shining emeralds.
As the child looked up at him, Alain could see the fire in her eyes. It reminded him very much of his cousin Virginia, and already he knew with some amusement this child would be a handful growing up.
Yet that did not matter to him. He had a beautiful, healthy daughter.
“She will make a great queen,” his mother said with no small amount of pride, “just like her grandmother. I take it you two have already settled on a name?”
Alain and Yahna looked at each other knowingly. They had long agreed on their child’s name, whether they be a boy or a girl.
“Alicia,” he answered with finality. “Her name will be Alicia.”
~.~
Alicia always had an inkling that she was not like most girls while growing up.
Looking back, she found it silly how her younger self missed all the clues. How the servants would treat her with an unusual amount of reverence, how they would all call her “Princess” when they called the other girls “ladies”.
But back then, Alicia only knew of princesses as the maidens from stories read to her by the nursemaids, of how they would be courted by gallant knights who swept them off their feet.
It would only be years later that the term would take on a much greater resonance.
The first time she began to realise that she was not like most girls was when she was eight years old. It was during a banquet held at the royal palace, where nobles from all over Cornia came to visit with their families.
Alicia had been excited in the days leading up to the feast, as it meant that she would have someone to play with. Sure, she had her little brother Gerard for company, but it was not every day that she had the chance to play with girls her age.
But on the day itself, Alicia’s excitement was short-lived.
The royal playroom had been divided into two separate chambers, one reserved for boys and the other for girls, and Alicia ended up in the latter.
She watched as the other girls took out their dolls and pretended to have tea with one another. Sometimes the girls would argue over whose doll was the prettiest, which one had the best dress, and so on. Alicia honestly had no idea what was so fun about that.
So she decided to take out her favourite toys: a set of wooden soldiers consisting of miniature knights. She and Gerard would always play with them during their free time, and wondered if the other girls would feel the same.
Instead, they all stared at her as if she had grown a second head.
Alicia remembered the hotness in her face as she felt the other girls’ cold stares bearing down on her. Even their nursemaids were looking at her with disapproval. With angry tears in her eyes, she gathered up the wooden soldiers in her arms and skulked off to one corner of the room to play alone, while her nursemaid Marianne could only offer an apologetic look.
She was still playing with her toy soldiers on her lonesome when her grandmother entered the room, looking as beautiful and regal as ever.
Alicia could not help but make a satisfied smirk as the nursemaids all seemed to pale at her grandmother’s presence. Her grandmother ignored them as she strode towards Alicia.
“I’ll take over from here, Marianne. You may see to my grandson.” She told Marianne, who curtsied before leaving.
Her grandmother hitched up her dress and crouched down so that her gaze met Alicia’s. “Still playing with your toy soldiers, I see.”
Alicia simply beamed at her.
But her grandmother then glanced towards the other girls. “But why are you alone? How come you’re not playing with the other girls?”
“They would rather play with their stupid dolls,” Alicia said with no small amount of bitterness.
Her grandmother gently stroked her hair and smiled at her reassuringly. “I’ll play with you, if you like.”
That put Alicia in a good mood again, and she eagerly shifted to the side to make space for her grandmother to sit.
Her amber eyes, which contrasted with Alicia’s emerald ones, scanned the tin men all lined up in formation. “Tell me, Alicia, how do you and Gerard play this game?”
Alicia gave a thoughtful hum. “Well… Gerard and I will line up our men against each other, and we will take turns to try and knock down each other’s soldiers. The one with the last soldier standing wins.”
Her grandmother looked amused upon hearing that. “I see. But I notice that you do not have a commander among your soldiers.”
“A commander?” Alicia tilted her head quizzically.
“A commander is someone who leads their soldiers in battle,” her grandmother continued. “They give orders to their soldiers, inspire them to keep fighting, and above all, look out for their well-being.”
Alicia frowned. “But I don’t have a commander.”
Her grandmother laughed as she placed a hand on her shoulder. “You are their commander, my dear. After all, you’re the one making the decisions.”
Alicia’s eyes widened in realisation, suddenly feeling a sense of purpose and responsibility as she listened to her grandmother’s words.
“But let’s make the game more interesting, shall we?” Her grandmother continued.
She reached for one of the wooden soldiers and placed it in front of the others. “A commander will need an aide, someone to advise them on what decision is right or wrong.”
She then divided the rest of them into groups of four, with a fifth man at the head of them.
“These men here,” she gestured to the soldiers at the head of each group, “are the officers. They are responsible for keeping the soldiers disciplined and making sure that the commander’s orders are carried out.”
Alicia frowned. “But grandmother, doesn’t that make the commander less important?”
Her grandmother just smiled at her question. “The commander isn’t perfect, my dear. To manage an army as big as this, they will need subordinates to maintain order and discipline during a battle. But that does not mean that the commander isn’t important. In fact, I say that it’s the opposite.”
Alicia looked at her in confusion, not understanding the logic behind her grandmother’s words.
“Because the commander always has the final say,” she continued, “they must know what their subordinates’ strengths and weaknesses are, and give them orders knowing they will be able to accomplish it. But if the commander places their trust in the wrong people, then the army is doomed to failure.”
She then flashed Alicia a conspiratorial wink. “I’m sure that you will find yourself in a similar position once you’re older.”
Back then, Alicia hadn’t the faintest idea what her grandmother meant by that. But what she did know was that she did not want to be like the girls who played with their frilly dolls and talked about pretty dresses.
No. She wanted to be like her grandmother.
~.~
“I want to become a knight.” She said at dinner.
Ever since her conversation with her grandmother, Alicia had begun making frequent trips to the library in her free time, reading up on books and manuscripts detailing the older woman’s exploits in her youth.
Alicia was usually apathetic towards histories for how long-winded and droll they tend to be, but in this case, she found herself poring over every detail. With each page, with each word, she felt a greater connection with this amazing woman.
Out of all of her grandmother’s stories, Alicia’s favourite would have to be the founding of the Knights of the Rose. From what Alicia had read, the Order had started as a toy regiment, comprised of her grandmother’s childhood friends who shared her belief that women, not just men, could be knights. But once the former Queen and her companions reached maturity, they became full-fledged knights in their own right.
Why couldn’t those girls at the banquet be more like that? Alicia remembered lamenting to herself as she read the story.
As soon as she declared her intentions at dinner, Alicia found her father staring back at her with an expression about as unreadable as her penmanship (which was a constant source of exasperation for her tutors).
Alicia gulped as she poked at her peas with her fork, wondering if her father would turn down her request.
But to her surprise and relief, he flashed her a warm smile.
“Very well,” he said as he took a sip of his wine, “I shall ask Ser Josef to start your training as soon as possible.”
Alicia’s heart leapt at the news. Ser Josef was her father’s personal blade, a decorated knight who had fought in various battles, and the man who taught both her father and grandmother how to wield a blade. Now he was going to teach her as well!
“But on one condition…” Alicia’s excitement withered when she noticed the stern look in her father’s eyes, a serious atmosphere falling upon the dining room.
“You will start paying more attention to your lessons,” said her father. “I have been receiving complaints from your tutors about your behaviour. To make sure that you are learning, your mother will be testing you every day before dinnertime.”
It took every ounce of willpower Alicia had in her to suppress the disappointment she was feeling. She realised that she had to take her lessons seriously from now on, or give up her dream of becoming a knight and settle for more… domestic pursuits.
The thought alone sent a shudder up her spine.
“Do we have a deal, Alicia?” Her father asked.
Alicia nodded.
Meanwhile, Gerard, always one to follow his older sister’s example, exclaimed. “I want to be a knight too!”
Their mother chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re still too young to handle a sword, my dear. You can wait until you’re about your sister’s age.”
Gerard visibly deflated at that, prompting her to reach out and ruffle his hair reassuringly.
~.~
A few days later, in the wee hours of the morning, Alicia practically flew out of bed and got herself dressed for her first training session with Ser Josef. Her father had commissioned for her a light blue gambeson with matching breeches and a pair of brown leather boots.
When she ran out into the training yard, Ser Josef was already waiting for her in the sparring ring. Unlike her, he had worn a simple white shirt and a pair of leather trousers.
Alicia had been disappointed upon seeing him take out a pair of wooden training swords from the weapon rack nearby.
“Real steel will come in due time, Princess.” Ser Josef told her when she voiced her complaints.
Ser Josef started their training with the basics, namely, how to properly wield and swing a sword, which Alicia practiced with gusto on one of the many straw dummies in the yard. Blocking, parrying, footwork, balance, and anticipation, all of which Alicia internalised as one would with breathing.
Of course, that was the easy part.
The next part of her training was a sparring session with Ser Josef. The old knight dared her to land a single strike on him.
Alicia would have had a much easier time trying to hit a fly. While blindfolded. Every strike she made with her training sword was parried by Ser Josef, who did not even bother to dodge any of her attacks. All she got for her efforts was an undignified tumble into the dirt.
By the end of it, Alicia was so exhausted that she could barely lift her weapon. Her hair was drenched with sweat, the rest of her body covered in dirt and grime, and she was sure she was going to be sore first thing in the morning.
“I have a question, Ser Josef,” Alicia said as they rested on the nearby bench, sharing a flask of fresh water between themselves. “What was it like teaching my father and grandmother?”
The old knight stroked his beard in thought. “Hmm… ‘Tis quite a difficult question, for your father and grandmother were complete opposites when it came to temperament.”
“Umm…” Alicia tilted her head, having not understood what the word “temperament” meant at the time.
“I suppose we can start with your father. He was a well-behaved and studious pupil when he was your age. But… one thing that held your father back was that he was always afraid to ask questions.”
Alicia blinked. Father… afraid? She found that hard to believe, for her father was the bravest man she had ever known.
Seeing the confused look on her face, Ser Josef continued. “What I meant is that he always took whatever I said at face value, never attempting to challenge me. It may seem silly to hear this from someone whose duty is to always follow orders, but a man of your father’s position must learn to think for himself, and never blindly follow what people say.”
“So what did you do?”
A smile curled up on the old knight’s lips. “Every night, I would sit him down and ask him what his tutors have been teaching him. Once he told me what he’d learnt, I would ask him ‘why’ or ‘how do you know what your tutor said is true?’. These were questions meant to make him think, and more importantly, understand.”
Alicia realised that it was the same thing with her recent one-on-one sessions with her mother. Was her father applying the same lessons Ser Josef had taught him?
The old knight then smiled again. “Your grandmother, on the other hand, was a child of boundless energy and curiosity. I was only a young lad of twenty and four when I taught her how to wield a blade. I had no experience in handling children, much less one as wild as her. You can only imagine the amount of grief your grandmother caused through her antics. I would even say you remind me a lot of her.”
Alicia suppressed a grin upon hearing that.
“But what one thing your father and grandmother shared was that they understood the path set for them. And you will too, once you are ready.”
Alicia’s mind flashed back to her conversation with her grandmother, who said something similar. Once again, Alicia found herself befuddled yet stoked by all the secrecy around her, as if she had just sampled a piece of forbidden fruit.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the towel tossed in her direction, with Ser Josef smiling back at her. “I believe it is time for you to get yourself cleaned up. You still have your other lessons, do you not?”
~.~
It was on Alicia’s tenth name day that everything was made clear to her.
As with her previous name days, Alicia was free from the tedium of her lessons, though that also meant that there would be no weapons training with Ser Josef.
Nevertheless, Alicia was excited the moment she jumped out of bed. Though it may sound silly when she looked back at it, ten years felt like a momentous step in her life.
Marianne had presented her with a new dress made of blue velvet with white trimmings – the colours of Cornia. The maids braided her hair into a pair of twin pigtails that hung above her shoulders.
She remembered emerging from the dressing room and finding her parents waiting for her, a proud smile on her father’s face while her mother was wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief. Alicia felt like a grown-up as she stood there, her chest puffed up with pride.
That night, the family made an excursion to one of Alicia’s favourite places: a pâtissier in Rue de Boulangerie that served some of the best sweetmeats in Cornia. Fruit tarts coated in powdered sugar, honey cakes sprinkled with almonds, and custard egg tart dusted with cinnamon. Alicia was sure she could have cleared out the shop had her mother not insisted that they leave before she or Gerard ate themselves sick.
It was already dark by the time they returned to the palace. Alicia had expected for the servants to escort her to bed. But only Gerard was sent back to his chambers, while she was instead ushered into her father’s solar.
Her father sat at his desk while Alicia and her mother took their seats opposite him. In that moment, Alicia felt small in their presence, anxiously wondering if she was in trouble, which made no sense since she’d been on her best behaviour the whole day. At least, that was how she remembered it.
But whatever doubts she had were quelled by the serene smile her mother gave her as she placed a hand on Alicia’s shoulder.
“Alicia,” her father began, “I know that this will be a lot for you to take in. But what I am about to say is important, and your mother and I believe that you are ready.”
He took in a deep breath before continuing. “Have you ever questioned the purpose behind your education? Why your curriculum involved history and laws and the blade, when most girls you know learned embroidery, music and fashion?”
Alicia simply nodded. This was not news to her.
“It is because you are my eldest child – my heir. And that means that one day, you will become Queen.”
“You mean like Mother?” She asked.
Her mother chuckled. “I’d say more like your grandmother in that regard.”
Alicia gave a puzzled look, for she did not know at the time what differentiated a Queen from a mere consort, but kept quiet.
“The role of Queen,” her father continued, “or any monarch for that matter, carries a great amount of responsibility, which was why your mother and I waited until you were old enough to reveal this to you. The Queen must know how to lead by example. She must be brave, diligent, and well-meaning in equal measure. But above all, she must never forget her duty to her subjects, whether they be a noble or a commoner, and never see herself as above them.”
With every word her father uttered, Alicia felt her horizons expand, suddenly aware of the responsibility weighing upon her shoulders.
She now knew for sure that she was not like most girls.
~.~
In the days following her name day, Alicia resumed her lessons, her weapons training especially, with extra fervour. The realisation that she was her father’s heir, that his knowledge and lessons were to be passed down to her, was absolutely thrilling.
It got even better when Gerard was finally old enough to begin his weapons training. As shameful as it was to admit, she took glee in besting her little brother whenever they sparred. Her sessions with Ser Josef more than often resulted in her exhausted and battered, so she found it cathartic to be the master in her matches with Gerard. Of course, her little brother took his defeats in stride and even in good humour, to Alicia’s delight.
But their fun together did not last long. Shortly after Gerard’s tenth name day, he was to be sent to Drakenhold as a squire for King Gilbert.
Alicia had been devastated when her father delivered the news at dinner. Devastated and angry. Her little brother, her only real childhood companion, was to be plucked out from her life until the Father knows when.
Harsh words were spoken that night, and Alicia remembered emptying a pitcher of wine into her father’s face before bolting out of the dining room.
Ignoring her father’s voice calling out to her, she just kept running until she found her chambers. She slammed the door behind her and threw herself onto the bed, letting the tears erupt.
Alicia wasn’t sure how much time had passed once she finally calmed herself down.
Her father must surely be furious with her. She knew she had gone too far.
Sure enough, she heard a light rap on the door.
“Alicia…” it was her mother’s voice that called out. “May I come in?”
The door opened and her mother stepped inside, a concerned expression on her face.
Despite everything, Alicia could not help but admire her mother’s beauty. While her father was like the sun, warm and majestic, her mother was like the moon, serene and wise.
As her mother quickly sat beside her on the bed, Alicia asked where her father was.
“He is in his chambers getting himself cleaned up,” she had answered.
“He is angry at me,” Alicia choked as the dam threatened to break a second time, “he doesn’t want to talk to me!”
Her mother gently pulled her into her bosom and held her in a warm embrace. “You know that is not true, my dear.”
“Then why are you here instead of him, Mother?” Alicia fired back, her voice muffled as she buried her face into her mother’s gown.
Her mother’s fingers soothingly ran through Alicia’s blue locks. “Because we both know how terrible your father is when it comes to this sort of thing. And besides, you wouldn’t want him to hug you when he’s drenched in wine, would you?”
A pang of guilt struck Alicia’s chest like a well-placed dagger.
She sniffled. “Is he angry with me?”
“No, my dear. I’d say that he fully understands how you feel. Sending Gerard to Drakenhold wasn’t easy for him either.”
“Then why? Why send him away?”
Her mother sighed, sounding almost rueful. “Politics, my dear. This arrangement shall tie our kingdom closer to Drakenhold, a token of trust and friendship.”
“But aren’t we already friends? We fought together against Galerius the usurper, and Cousin Virginia is the queen.”
“Your father and King Gilbert made a pact of friendship, but what of you and King Gilbert’s children? Or your children and theirs? In a few more generations, our kingdom and Drakenhold will forget the mutual strife we endured under Zenoiran tyranny, and we will be at each other’s throats once again.”
Alicia's eyes dropped to the floor as the weight of her mother’s words set in.
She then felt her mother’s hands cup her cheeks, gently raising Alicia’s gaze to meet her own. “And besides,” she said with a serene smile, “being fostered at Drakenhold might do wonders for your brother. The palace servants already have quite a handful with the two of you running amok.”
The jape was enough to brighten Alicia’s mood, and she could not help but giggle. Though she had always idolised her father, there was also a lingering feeling of anxiety, the expectations of being his heir casting over her like a shadow. With her mother, however, Alicia felt a sense of comfort and warmth whenever she was in her presence.
“Now that you’ve calmed down,” her mother said, “I expect that you will apologise to your father first thing in the morning. Your brother too. He was worried sick after you ran off like that.”
Alicia nodded, only realising now that Gerard was probably taking the news even worse than her. She felt ashamed, for as the older sibling, she needed to set an example for him.
“Good.” As her mother stood up from the bed, Alicia quickly wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist.
“I’m going to miss Gerard.” She said.
“I will miss him too,” whispered her mother, gently stroking her hair.
~.~
Gerard’s departure from Gran Corrine had been a sombre affair, as the rest of the royal family and their retinue saw him off at the palace courtyard. Accompanying him were ten knights from the Royal Guard as well as forty cavalrymen, sufficient for a swift journey to Soldraga.
As Alicia and Gerard embraced, she whispered into her little brother’s ear, promising to write to him every day that she could.
The royal palace became a much lonelier place with her brother’s absence. Although Alicia had already resigned to the fact that Gerard was gone, the emptiness she felt bled into her lessons. Not even her weapons training with Ser Josef could spark as much interest from her as it used to.
She could tell her parents were becoming increasingly concerned for her. But what could they do? They had been so busy the past few days that Alicia barely saw them.
Then one morning, as Alicia listened to her tutor Madame Levesque drone on and on about sums, the sound of the palace gates creaking open snapped her out of her stupor.
Madame Levesque was too preoccupied with her lessons to notice Alicia scooted over to the window and peered out the window. She saw a retinue of armoured horsemen enter the palace courtyard, bearing the banners of a kraken on a blue field. Alicia recognised the banners as those of House Nordheim, one of the oldest and most powerful vassals in Cornia. Their lord, the Marquis Nordheim, was her father’s Chancellor, though Alicia rarely saw the man himself, since he spent most of his time in his solar or the Royal Council chambers.
Though Alicia knew that the Chancellor kept a small retinue of Nordheim men around the palace for personal protection, these riders appeared to be newcomers, which only stoked her curiosity.
“Princess Alicia,” Madame Levesque had snapped out, the displeasure in her voice evident. “If my lectures are too simple for your attention, perhaps answering the problem on page seven should be sufficient of a challenge.”
Oh, shit!
Once her sums were mercifully over and done with, Alicia wasted no time making her way to the stables, curious to see who the newcomers were and why they were there.
They were not at the stables, so the training yard it was.
And sure enough, she saw the Nordheim men gathered around the sparring ring. The sounds of steel clashing sent a shiver of excitement up her spine. She quickly wormed her way through the crowd until she could see the duellists who captured everyone’s attention so.
She saw her father in the sparring ring, dressed in a simple white shirt and leather trousers. His opponent was a young boy, about the same age as Alicia. He had a full head of curly gold locks and wore a black training gambeson.
The two combatants were wielding steel longswords. Blunted, but steel all the same, unlike the wooden training swords Alicia had to content herself with in her sessions with Ser Josef.
The boy was on the offensive, delivering swift but calculated strikes with his blade. But the King, wielding his longsword with only one arm, parried each and every blow. For a split second, Alicia saw Ser Josef in her father’s place.
Though the fight was inevitably one-sided, Alicia could see that the boy was no amateur. His form remained immaculate even as every attempt at an offensive was thwarted.
But it seemed that Alicia’s father had enough, for his stance quickly shifted. As the boy delivered another overhead strike, rather than parry it, her father met his sword with the boy’s own. As their blades locked, her father took advantage of his superior size and strength to overpower the boy. With a scoop of his sword, he sent the boy’s weapon flying out of his hands and into the dirt.
Before the boy could even process what had happened, her father had already pressed the tip of his sword to his gambeson.
A momentary silence fell upon the crowd before they broke into a round of applause. Alicia could not help but join them as well. Seeing her father fight was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, given his busy schedule.
“Your stance and form are good,” she heard him say to the boy, “though your attacks are too predictable. You will have little trouble faring against common brigands, but a more experienced opponent will be running circles around you.”
“Th-Thank you, Your Majesty.” The boy had an expression that Alicia could only describe to be a mix of embarrassment and dumbstruck, though she could hardly blame him. It is not every day that one would have the opportunity to spar with the King himself, something that Alicia could attest to.
It was then that Alicia’s father noticed her among the crowd. He beckoned to her, and she obeyed.
As she approached, Alicia finally got a better look at the boy, and he was one of the prettiest boys she’d ever seen. He had piercing eyes the colour of rubies and fair skin, which had a sheen to it from the sweat he had worked up.
“Alicia, this is Gawain, the firstborn son of Lady Monica Nordheim. He is here to serve as my squire, at his mother and grandfather’s behest.” Her father explained.
Gawain quickly straightened himself and gave a bow, his awkward demeanour now gone as if it were never there to begin with. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
Alicia smiled back at him. “And to you as well, Gawain. I see that you have just experienced firsthand my father’s skill with the sword.”
“And was thoroughly bested.” Gawain said. “They say that His Majesty is one of the greatest swordsmen in the kingdom. I can safely say that the rumours are true.”
Her father laughed as he patted the young squire on the shoulder again. “I believe you overstate my skills.”
“Impossible, Your Majesty!” Gawain exclaimed, almost sounding like the twelve-year-old boy that he was.
As they were talking, an idea formed in Alicia’s head.
“Say, Gawain…” She spoke up. “If it is okay with you, may I make a request?”
Gawain looked at her curiously. “Of course, Your Grace.”
A coy smile crept on her lips. “I would like to challenge you to a duel.”
Her father shot her a disapproving look, but Alicia ignored him. It was about time that she found a proper sparring partner. Not like Ser Josef, not like her little brother, but an actual peer.
Gawain, meanwhile, looked back and forth between her and her father like a lost puppy. “It would not be honourable of me to turn down a challenge, especially from the Princess herself, but are you certain of this?”
“Of course I am,” said Alicia. “It is only a friendly sparring match, not a duel to the death. Should things go too far, we can call it off.”
Gawain remained silent for a few seconds. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, “Very well, though only if His Majesty approves.”
Alicia turned to her father, making a pleading look as she did.
“Very well,” he said, pursing his lips as he did. “But I shall only permit wooden swords.”
Alicia was about to speak up in protest when her father held up his hand, and she was forced to hold her tongue. “You have yet to learn how to wield actual steel, Alicia.”
Realising her father’s word was final, she bit back her protestations and nodded obediently. He had given his permission for them to duel, and she wasn’t going to try pushing her luck.
Once she changed into her training outfit, she entered the sparring ring, wooden sword in hand. Gawain had taken his place opposite her, giving his own practice sword a few test swings, no doubt to adjust himself to the lighter weapon.
The two of them took their respective stances, squaring each other off intently.
Then, they lunged forward.
Alicia was surprised by how much Gawain still had in him despite sparring with her father just minutes ago. He moved with the same amount of speed and agility as he did before, and his strikes had a surprising amount of power behind them.
And to think that her father bested him in mere seconds…
Of course, that did not mean Alicia would not go down without a fight. She remembered her lessons with Ser Josef, namely her footwork. She would thrust and slash, sometimes with feints to try and catch Gawain off guard.
At one point, she nearly succeeded when Gawain attempted a thrust, only for her to sidestep it with a pirouette. Using her momentum, she swung her practice sword and struck him in the arm. He stumbled from the blow and Alicia had hoped that that would turn the tide.
But she had miscalculated. Gawain managed to regain his footing and retaliated with a powerful sideswipe. Alicia hurriedly raised her practice sword to defend herself. A thwack could be heard as his weapon collided with hers…
…and sent it flying out of her hands.
Gawain pointed his sword at her. “Do you yield?” He said in between heavy breaths.
For a few short moments, Alicia just stood there, stupefied, exhausted, and exhilarated.
“I yield.” She finally conceded, bending forward as she braced her hands against her knees so she could catch her breath.
Around them, the observing knights broke into another round of applause, though they were mainly directed to their young lord and his victory.
But Alicia’s gaze was focused squarely on her father, who smiled mysteriously at her.
“A well-fought match, Princess.” Gawain walked up to her with a hand outstretched. “I must say that I enjoyed every moment of it.”
“O-Oh. Thank you, Gawain.” She replied, taken aback by his forwardness, but certainly not unappreciative of it. “Not even my practice sessions with Ser Josef or my brother were this fun. Perhaps we should do this more often, now that you are my father’s squire.”
“You honour me, Your Grace. I shall consider it.” Now it was Gawain’s turn to be flustered, and Alicia once again saw the embarrassed little boy who had been thoroughly bested by her father earlier today.
Alicia found herself in a much better mood than she had ever been the last few days, already looking forward to future sparring matches with Gawain.
It was only later that evening did it dawned on Alicia as to why her father would suddenly take in a squire not long after Gerard’s departure, why he had allowed to spar with Gawain without much objection, and the smile he gave her afterwards.
Her admiration for her father grew ten sizes that day.
~.~
For the next four years, life carried on as per normal. Well, at least what a Princess and heir to the Cornian throne could best define as normal.
During this time, Alicia’s lessons with Ser Josef finally came to an end. The old knight proudly (and perhaps with some melancholy, Alicia liked to think) told her that he had nothing left to teach her and that it was time for the next step towards her destiny.
At thirteen years old, Alicia was finally allowed to become a squire for Miriam de Artois. Alicia could think of no higher honour than squiring under her grandmother’s personal bodyguard and Captain of the Knights of the Rose.
Miriam was very much like Ser Josef in some respects; for one, they were both devoted adherents to the chivalric code and set out to be good examples for their subordinates; the second was that they were both stern but fair when it came to tutoring Alicia.
Where they differed was that Miriam seemed to be much more closed off, as if a barrier had been erected between them that prevented Alicia from getting too close. It was unlike the familiar and comforting presence of Ser Josef.
“That shouldn’t be surprising,” Kitra said when Alicia had broached the subject while they were cleaning the stables one day. “Miriam has always been the one for formality. And you are the Princess, after all.”
After that conversation, Alicia realised that the main difference between Miriam and Ser Josef was that while Ser Josef was like a grandfather to her, Miriam would always be a mentor to her, and nothing more than that.
Still, she liked and respected Miriam a lot. If Ser Josef taught Alicia how to wield a sword, it was Miriam who taught her how to ride and fight on a horse like a proper knight.
Her sparring sessions with Gawain continued, and only got more entertaining once Alicia could finally wield proper steel. Of course, she could never best him in any of their matches and that irked her to no end.
Still, Gawain became her closest companion in Gran Corrine, filling the void left behind by Gerard’s departure. Whenever their time together wasn’t spent on sparring, they simply sat down and talked with each other.
She learned much about Gawain, about how much he missed his family and home, how he missed the hawking trips with his parents. She also learned that his favourite dessert were lemon cakes, and had no love for anything with nuts in them.
It was far too early to say whether she actually liked Gawain that way, but she was certainly fond of him. And if her parents were to arrange a betrothal for her, she wouldn’t mind one bit having him as her husband.
~.~
It was on Alicia’s sixteenth name day that she received a special gift.
At dinner, her grandmother had presented her with a long and flat ebony box engraved with the royal heraldry of Cornia, sealed shut with a couple of bronze latches.
“Open it,” she beckoned.
Alicia obeyed and with her breath held in anticipation, slowly undid the latches. Her fingers slipped under the lid and lifted it open.
There she saw it. The most beautiful greatsword she had ever seen. The blade alone was as long as her legs and as wide as her head. But its most distinctive feature was its symmetrical crescent-shaped tip.
“This is my personal sword,” her grandmother said, “forged from lands beyond Fevrith’s shores. The blade is made of the strongest metals and can cut through armour like butter, while its leather hilt ensures you will never lose your grip on it.”
Alicia slowly reached out for the sword and pulled it from the box by its hilt. She could not help but marvel at how light it weighed despite its size. As she held it up, the blade gleamed in the candlelight.
“It’s beautiful.” She breathed.
“Only two blades with this design exist in Fevrith,” her grandmother continued, “one of which belongs to your cousin Virginia, and the other to you.”
Alicia lowered the sword back into the box and rushed to hug her grandmother as tight as she could. “Thank you, grandmother.” She said with tears in her eyes.
If only Gerard were here, then it would have been perfect.
~.~
It would only be two weeks later when Alicia saw her first taste of combat. It was not like her usual duels in the sparring ring. No, it was a battle between life and death.
The Knights of the Rose were assigned a mission – an escort mission, to be exact – by her father. He had received a request from King Morard of Bastorias for aid in the form of grain. The northern kingdom’s harvest had been particularly bad that year, and it would not have enough food for the upcoming winter. As such, her father ordered for a dozen caravans full of grain and corn to be transported to Bastoritza.
However, caravans carrying that much food made for a prime target for bandits. Though there was no coin among their baggage, the food could make them an easy profit on the black market. As such, the caravans were escorted by the Knights of the Rose – a hefty force of fifty armoured cavalry and five gryphon riders.
Alicia shivered in the morning chill as she rode atop her mare Valkyrie – a gift from her father on her fourteenth name day. They had just left Pashvari Town and were only a few leagues away from the border between Cornia and Bastorias.
The convoy was riding through a wide, stony road through the mountain pass. Everyone was tense and on high alert, for the surrounding foothills and peaks made it an easy spot for an ambush. The griffin riders had already flown ahead to scout the place out, and they have spotted nothing thus far.
“Easy there, girl.” Alicia whispered as she gently stroked Valkyrie, feeling her mount squirm anxiously beneath her.
Yet despite her comforting words, Alicia could also sense something was amiss.
As if fate would have it, she heard a woman’s voice shouting from above. She glanced up and saw Fran flying atop her gryphon from the northeast.
“Brigands!” She was shouting.
No sooner did she say those words that everyone leapt into action as knights reached for their weapons or took to their mounts.
“Fran, how many brigands did you see?” Miriam asked as the gryphon rider landed before her.
“I count about a hundred of them,” Fran said breathlessly. “Thirty horsemen, thirty archers. The rest are all infantry.”
“And the other gryphon riders?”
“Still scouting, ma’am. They could be miles away for all I know.”
Miriam gave a grim nod. “Okay. You will take to the sky and get more reinforcements. And do not fly too low. We cannot risk you getting shot down by one of their damned archers.”
As Fran flew off, Alicia rushed to her mentor. “What shall we do, ma’am?”
“With our baggage, we have no way of outrunning them. We will have to hold our ground. I will have our knights assume a defensive position around the caravans; that is what they’ after!”
“And me?”
“You will hang back in the rear guard and make sure that not a single one of them reaches the caravan, Princess.” Miriam said.
“The rear guard?” Alicia had exclaimed in dismay. “But I’m your squire! I should be by your side.”
Miriam shook her head. “You are staying in the rear guard and that is final. His Majesty and Lady Ilenia will never forgive me if you get yourself killed on your first battle.”
Alicia pursed her lips as she looked at her mentor in the eyes, her emerald meeting Miriam’s grassy green. But she eventually relented, bidding Miriam good luck before taking her position alongside the caravans that have now grouped up together. She dismounted Valkyrie, knowing her horse would be of no use in close quarters.
No sooner had she drawn her greatsword from her mount did she see them. Dozens of brigands, whether they be on foot or on horse, came thundering down the hill, while their archers loosed their arrows upon the knights.
Within a matter of seconds, the brigands had thrown themselves into the vanguard like a tidal wave crashing against the shore.
Alicia shuddered with anticipation as the battle raged on, the sound of steel meeting steel ringing in her ears. She craned her head, wanting to know what was going on. Where was Miriam? Where was Kitra, the older knight who she had come to see as an older sister?
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a primal roar. A bandit, wielding a double-bladed axe in one hand and a wooden roundshield in another, had managed to break through the front lines and was now charging straight at her.
Letting her training take control, Alicia swung her greatsword just in time to meet the bandit’s attack. Swing! Parry! Dodge! She could hear Ser Josef’s voice ring her head as their blades clashed again and again, sending sparks flying with every blow.
He was good, Alicia would give him that, and stronger than she was. But she had been trained by one of the finest swordsmen in Cornia, and she slowly began gaining ground against her opponent, until a powerful sideswipe sent the bandit’s axe flying out of his grip.
“Wait…” The bandit had barely managed to utter out as Alicia brought her greatsword down on him, cleaving through him from shoulder to navel and sending blood and gore everywhere.
At that moment, the realisation that she made her first kill had set in.
Wrenching the blade free, Alicia stumbled back a few steps as she forced herself to calm down. She glanced down at the body, a pool of blood already forming around it. She hoped that it was quick and painless for him, not that he was in any condition to speak up about it.
Looking around, she saw that the fighting had moved beyond her. Despite being outnumbered, the Knights of the Rose’s superior training and discipline have managed to force the bandits back against the hill.
She saw Miriam, now unhorsed, engaged in a swordfight with a rider wielding a longsword. Despite her best efforts, she was slowly losing ground against her mounted opponent.
Alicia wasted no time climbing onto Valkyrie. She kicked her mount into a gallop, in the direction of her mentor. As she got closer, the rider had already managed to knock Miriam’s sword out of her hand and was now ready to deliver the coup de grace.
Desperation kicked in and without a second thought, Alicia leapt off Valkyrie and threw the full weight of her body into the rider. The rider was thrown off-balance and tumbled to the dirt, with Alicia falling after him.
She hit the ground hard, her vision blurring as she felt her head connect with something hard, a stone perhaps. Dazed, Alicia could make out the figure of the unhorsed bandit clambering back to his feet.
She tried to get up as well but the bandit was already on her. Pain exploded in her mouth as his boot collided into her jaw, and she fell back into the dirt.
Looking up, she saw the bandit raise his sword. Alicia’s courage faltered and she shut her eyes in anticipation for the death blow, her only consolation was that she would die saving her mentor and doing the best for her family.
The blow never came, and Alicia felt something warm splatter all over her. It took a moment for her to realise that it certainly wasn’t hers, and she slowly opened her eyes.
She saw the bandit standing there, his sword still raised…
…and the tip of a blade protruding from his throat.
The man made an ugly, gurgling sound as more blood flowed out the wound. The sword slipped from the bandit’s hands and clattered to the ground, with his lifeless body following suit.
Behind him stood Miriam, bloodied sword in hand. Her once pristine armour was now caked in dried blood and dirt.
Around her, the carnage had died down. The knights have managed to fight off the remaining bandits, who were forced abandon their dead and dying in the process.
Alicia stumbled back to her feet and saw that an audience had gathered around her. Kitra stood next to Miriam with her bloodied Warhammer slung over her shoulders. Her twin ponytails somehow undone in the fighting, letting her hair fall to her shoulders. Despite the nasty bruise on her lip, she flashed a grin at Alicia. Fran and her gryphon were on Miriam’s right, bloodstains coating the beast’s beak and talons while its exhausted rider leaned against her halberd.
Miriam’s green eyes bored into Alicia’s, an unreadable expression on her face.
“You disobeyed my orders,” began Miriam, “and nearly got yourself killed in the stupidest way possible.”
Shame fell upon Alicia and she bowed her head, avoiding her mentor’s gaze.
Kitra laughed as she spat out a wad of blood. “Give her a break, Miriam. She looks frightened enough without you glowering at her.”
“Besides,” Fran interjected as well, “the Princess did save your life.”
Her mentor glanced at her two lieutenants before her expression softened, a smile on her lips. “So she did.”
She beckoned to Alicia. “Come, Princess. Kneel.”
Alicia’s breath hitched and quickly complied, one knee on the ground. Miriam took out a piece of cloth from her armour and wiped her sword clean of blood and gore. Once she was done, she held it up high, the blade glistening in the sunlight.
“Princess Alicia of Cornia,” she began as she lowered the blade onto Alicia’s right shoulder, her voice still strong and dignified despite everything that has happened. “Do you swear to defend those who cannot defend themselves?”
“I do.”
The blade moved to her other shoulder. “And to never deviate from the path of righteousness, even in the name of the greater good?”
“I do.”
The blade moved back to her right shoulder. “And do so from now until death shall take you?”
Alicia took in a deep breath, her heart pounding like a drum. “I do.”
“Then arise, Princess Alicia, as a knight of Cornia and of Fevrith.”
Alicia obeyed, unable to stop the smile on her face. Around her, the Knights of the Rose burst into rapturous cheers and applause.
She felt something furry nuzzle against her cheek. Glancing to the side, she saw that Valkyrie had trotted over to her as if to deliver its own congratulations.
Alicia laughed as she cupped Valkyrie’s snout affectionately. She’d done it. She’d become a knight at last.