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Caitlyn didn't know how long it had been since she had been given the grace of leaving the castle.
She had spent days – months, even , trapped up inside those cold palace walls, keeping her cooped up in there for reasons she couldn't quite discern.
And, on the off chance that she was allowed to go outside, she'd had to be followed by a knight, anyway. Which, she would argue, was worse than being trapped up inside her own home.
She'd worked tirelessly– day in, day out, listening to the rambles of tutors, practicing her manners, putting up a good front in the face of visitors.
One thing they don't tell you about royalty, is that it is exhausting.
The only time Caitlyn felt like she could catch a break was during her usual, weekly visits to the castle gardens.
Sometimes, this break would be peaceful– would be filled with hours of sitting, admiring the flowers and the trees. Other times, they'd have guests over– invading the gardens, ruining the beauty of it.
Today (Thank God) wasn't one of those days.
The garden was practically empty– aside from someone in a knight's uniform standing alone in the field of violets they had within the castle grounds. But, even then, the knight was rather small in stature– most likely a young knight in training, nothing that Caitlyn needed to worry about.
She took a few, graceful steps along the stone pavement– leading her way towards the bench where she always sat, underneath the biggest tree in the garden.
Caitlyn had claimed this spot as her own ever since she was five– ten years ago now. It was always somewhere she could retreat to, somewhere that all of the castle staff knew they shouldn't disrupt. This little bench was her own; a place for her to just be herself, to escape to whenever she argued with her mother, to not have to worry about the burden of her many responsibilities.
She took her seat atop the wooden bench, staring out at the vastness of the view in front of her.
It was like a breath of fresh air– calming, gentle. The exact type of thing Caitlyn absolutely needed after months upon months of masking and pretending, leaving her desperate for even a mere second of normalcy.
She closed her eyes, dangling her rather unfortunately lanky legs over the bench, swaying them in correspondence with the wind. It was nice, for once, to clear her mind; to gain some sort of semblance of herself.
Caitlyn stayed like that for a few minutes– just her, and the breeze, and her bench; It was like a calm after the storm of her busy life.
However, she was disrupted by the clanking of metal– swiftly followed by the presence of a person in front of her.
“Excuse me– isn’t that the princess’ bench?” A voice called out to her, forcing her to open her eyelids once more– blue eyes staring straight into a metal helmet whilst she tried to discern who the knight in front of her was.
On second glance, Caitlyn realised it was the same, slightly short knight who had been lingering in the violet fields earlier. Now that they were up close, she realised the two of them were roughly the same height.
“I’m sorry?” Caitlyn called in response, a little taken aback. She wasn’t used to not being recognised– especially not by castle staff. She tilted her head rather courteously, strands of her navy blue hair collapsing against her right shoulder.
“That bench you’re sitting on,” The knight continued, and Caitlyn noticed a slightly feminine hint to their voice– despite it being muffled by the helmet they had yet to take off. “It belongs to the princess.”
Caitlyn, slightly amused, held back her smile, still refusing to move off of the bench. Pretty much everyone around the castle knew who she was, so she’d use this to her advantage as much as she could.
She tilted her head back and forth, before mumbling out a rather simple “Okay,” still acting as defiant as ever.
A noise resemblant of a groan sounded from the knight’s direction, although Caitlyn wasn’t quite sure if that’s what it actually was– it was a little too muffled from underneath the helmet. “I don’t think she’d like you being there,” they stated once more, as if Caitlyn hadn’t already inferred that from their previous words.
“Last I checked, she wasn’t here right now.”
“I can call her over, if you want?” The knight stated, trying to keep their voice cold. But Caitlyn could hear the slight tremor in it– the way their pitch lifted slightly towards the end of their threat, obviously uncertain.
Caitlyn, however, was impeccably certain in the way that she spoke, “You wouldn’t do that.”
She narrowed her twinkling eyes, giving a tight-lipped smile in the direction of the knight as she stood back up from her spot, walking down the pavement and inside her house once more.
So much for taking a break.
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
The next time Caitlyn met that knight was during a meeting her mother had dragged her to– one which involved setting some rules up between Caitlyn and the knights.
This had been something which Caitlyn protested against for the past few months. She had been caught by her father trying to sneak out of her own bedroom window, and, as a result, her parents had been forced to tighten the security.
The head of the knights, Vander, was the main person involved in this meeting– standing proud across the opposite side of the room, a slightly shorter knight at his side and a whole host of them behind him.
“So you want a group of knights stationed around your daughter’s bedroom at night?” he asked, an eyebrow raised– voice rather gruff.
Caitlyn’s mother simply tutted in response, as if it were obvious, before responding with a simple “Yes.”
Caitlyn raised her eye line from where she had been staring daggers into the floor, now exchanging a few quick glares with her mother. It seemed fairly obvious that Cassandra had only brought her here in an attempt to humiliate her, but she wasn't going to let that happen– receiving the information well, not protesting or complaining.
“We can do that, but couldn't you place some trust in her?” Vander continued, standing his ground on the topic, “I mean, she's fifteen , now–”
His protests were quickly cut short by Cassandra, who once again stated the reason why they were even here to begin with. “She was trying to sneak out,” her voice was cold; not letting up despite Vander’s judgement on the situation. “Can you imagine what else she might do if I don't step in as a mother?”
Caitlyn tensed up ever so slightly in response to her words, body frozen cold. She averted her gaze straight back downwards towards the floor, very aware of the other things she had attempted to do behind her parents’ backs.
Only last week, she had snuck a girl into her bedroom after one of their fancy galas, giggling and smiling with her, pressing their lips together and intertwining their hands. And she hadn't been the first, either.
“The stricter you are, the sneakier she’ll be.” Vander objected, sending a quick look down towards the little pink-haired knight next to him before pulling his head back upwards towards Cassandra, an eyebrow raised. “I've got firsthand experience with that one.”
“ Yes, well, last I checked, I didn't pay you to make my decisions for me.” Cassandra retorted once more, throwing a fake smile towards the man. “Position the guards near her room at night.” she stated, still firm, throwing on an overly polite ‘please’ onto the end of her sentence.
Vander’s gaze turned cold from the opposite end of the room, unamused, but mumbling out a simple “Fine,” as he began his exit. The horde of knights followed, the small, pink haired one taking his hand as she walked alongside him.
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
Caitlyn saw her again that night.
She was lingering around the entrance to Caitlyn's bedroom, a frown on her rounded face– freckles smattering her soft features.
She seemed to lighten up a little, though, upon the realisation that there was someone else now in front of her– the hint of a smile ghosting across her lips, grey eyes a little brighter.
“Can I help you?” Caitlyn asked, maybe a little bewildered, but trying her hardest not to show it.
The girl's soft smile morphed into a grin, moving herself away from where she rested against the wall so that she stood up straight. “So you are the princess, huh?” she taunted.
And Caitlyn recognised that voice– her brain recalling to the few days previous, where she had met this knight before. Except now, her voice was slightly less muffled– a lot clearer.
Caitlyn froze up ever slightly for a moment, before allowing herself to relax again– just not quite fully yet. “You caught me,” she mumbled out, a strange feeling of disappointment setting in at the bottom of her stomach.
“Why didn't you say that?” The knight asked, her eyebrows furrowed– arms folded across their chest in a somewhat defensive stance.
“It didn't come up,” Caitlyn explained, “Had you asked, I would have answered.”
“There were multiple points within that conversation where you could've told me.”
Caitlyn shifted her weight between her two feet, “Maybe sometimes it's nicer not to be known.”
“Is that so?”
“ Yes.”
And the hallway went silent in response to that– neither of them particularly sure what to say, which words should be exchanged.
“We should probably both get some rest,” Caitlyn eventually broke through– offering up a solution for their rather awkward interaction.
The knight nodded, taking a step forwards, “You're right.”
“Goodnight, uhm–” Caitlyn followed suit, taking one– and then two steps towards her door, before stopping in her tracks. “I don't think I caught your name.”
“It's Vi.”
“Goodnight, Vi.”
Caitlyn had expected the conversation to end there– for them to go their separate ways. But as she walked a little closer towards her door, tracing her fingers over the golden handle, she realised that Vi’s footsteps hadn’t made any noise. She paused momentarily, removing her hand from the doorknob– twisting her head back around towards the little knight.
“What's yours?” Vi asked, eyes ever so slightly softer now that they had talked things over and shared something other than an argument with one another.
“Most of the knights just call me ‘Princess’,” Caitlyn responded rather quickly, expecting that to finish up their conversation– to send Vi off to bed so that the two of them could actually rest.
But no, Vi was full of surprises as it seemed, and instead wasn’t quite satisfied with her response. “But that's not you , is it?” She asked, “What's your name?”
Caitlyn's eyes widened a smidgen– although she's not so certain that it had been visible through the darkness of her hallway.
“Caitlyn.”
The corners of Vi’s lips tilted upright, barely visible if not for the light of the moon shining down onto their faces. “Goodnight, Caitlyn,” she stated, voice warm, before finally making her departure.
And Caitlyn wasn’t quite used to that.
She wasn’t used to being conversed with normally, with being treated like an actual person outside of her status as royalty, didn’t quite realise how much it meant to her when she was shown some basic human respect and decency.
But, most importantly, she wasn’t quite familiar with the way her heart swelled in her chest in response to Vi’s kindness.
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
Caitlyn saw Vi countless times after that– it was like the little knight sought her out or something, always intruding into something within her daily life; whether it be her horse riding, her tutoring or her etiquette lessons. Vi was always there, always smiling and grinning, talking to Caitlyn about her day– encouraging her to open up a little more.
And, ever so slowly, Caitlyn had opened up a little more. She had confided in Vi, shared all of her secrets with the other girl. She had shown her around the castle– pointed out all of the little spots she likes to retreat to when upset, excitedly yapping along about all of the things she was interested in.
And Vi had listened , had stared at Caitlyn with so much softness and sweetness in her eyes that it would be hard to miss.
It all came to a point within a few months where Caitlyn actually considered Vi to be her friend – the first one she had who was roughly the same age as her.
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
The most memorable interaction between her and Vi after that, was one which happened before her Mother’s annual winter ball.
It had been twenty minutes before the ballroom opened, and Caitlyn had been so eager to avoid it that she snuck away from the main area of the castle, instead finding a quaint little room to relax in– one where nobody would bother her.
Nobody except Vi , of course.
Caitlyn was reading when she walked in– her knees pressed closely up against her chest, the book opened about midway through and relaxing atop them. She read lots of books– it was a sort of escapism for her, a way to cope.
“Your mother is looking everywhere for you, you know?” Vi’s voice called, cutting straight through the silence.
“I know.” Caitlyn responded, voice a little quiet, maybe ever so slightly weak.
“So why aren’t you going?” Vi asked, keeping the volume of her words low whilst she made her way over towards where Caitlyn sat against the window ledge.
Caitlyn quickly snapped her book shut, tossing it down towards the floor and burying her face into the tulle of her dress, “I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” Vi asked, taking a seat opposite Caitlyn– where she extended a hand to rub against her arm comfortingly, “I thought balls were supposed to be fun– I mean, you’re all dolled up and pretty in that dress, the music will be nice and there’ll be loads of people to talk to.”
“They’re overcrowded and overwhelming, and quite frankly overly pretentious.” Caitlyn spat out in response, bringing her head back upwards to allow herself a chance to stare into Vi’s glistening eyes. “Nobody wants to talk to me – they want to talk to the princess, the music is always boring, and I don’t even like this dress!”
“What’s wrong with the dress?” Vi tilted her head, pausing with her hand against Caitlyn’s arm, “I think it looks pretty on you.”
“I don’t want to look pretty , I want to look cool, ” Caitlyn groaned, staring down at the mess of floral fabric and green tulle that laid against her skin. “I want to wear trousers like the knights– and suits like my father,” she confessed, awaiting some sort of negative response from Vi like she had gotten from every other person she’d ever told that to.
But instead, Vi simply suggests a solution. “Why don’t you say that to someone?” she asked, still absolutely supportive of Caitlyn despite it all.
Caitlyn wondered if there would ever be a time where Vi wouldn’t be supportive of her.
“Mother never listens.”
“Force her to listen,” Vi grinned. “Take her hand,” she instructed, moving her own hands so that they were intertwined with Caitlyn’s, putting on a fake, mock British accent. “And tell her– ‘ Oh, Mother dearest– I simply refuse to wear any more of your frilly dresses.”
And Caitlyn laughed . The first, proper laugh she’d had in ages.
“ Please, Mother, I implore you to have the tailor make me some trousers’,” Vi finished up, her ridiculous fake accent slipping somewhat towards the end.
Through her giggles, Caitlyn managed to choke out a retort, “I do not speak like that.”
“No, not when we’re alone.” Vi grinned, slipping her fingers back out of Caitlyn’s grasp– locking eyes with the other girl as she did so. “With your parents, though? You definitely do.”
≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫
Caitlyn hadn’t been wrong for not wanting to go to the ball.
It was, as she had described, overcrowded, overwhelming and incredibly pretentious. There had been a few people who had come up to speak to her; a few who had requested a dance, or some time alone between them. And, every single time, Caitlyn had to oblige their requests– not wanting to ruin the image that the public had of her.
But, it just so happened, that by the midway point of the ball, Caitlyn was absolutely and utterly exhausted. She didn’t know how much longer she could do this– how many more niceties she had left in her, wasn’t quite certain if she could mumble out another ‘Please’ or ‘Thank you’ to the people who didn’t deserve it.
And so, in her rather overwhelmed state, Caitlyn did what she did best– and she fled away from the ballroom.
She knew she’d get told off by her mother for this; knew her father would be slightly disappointed. But, in the moment, she really couldn't care less.
Caitlyn dragged her heels against the floor, clacking as she ran into the hallway, only stopping momentarily when she recognised a head of pink hair in front of her. The owner of said pink hair simply furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head whilst trying to work out why Caitlyn was anywhere but the ballroom.
Her second of contemplation was cut short, however, when Caitlyn grabbed her arm– completely disregarding the harshness of her metal armour, dragging the two of them towards the nearest exit; towards the gardens.
“Cait– what are you–?” Vi protested, still utterly confused, the expression on her face reminiscent of a deer in headlights.
Caitlyn didn’t respond, instead throwing open the heavy wooden doors, bolting straight into the gardens, where she only stopped to give herself a moment to breathe once they had reached the bench.
Her bench.
The same place they had met.
Chest heaving, she took her usual seat there, swaying her legs in tandem with the wind once more.
“We’re gonna get in trouble out here, Cait.” Vi huffed out, standing idly in front of where Caitlyn sat, “Guests aren’t supposed to be in the gardens during the winter ball.”
“I’m not a guest.” Caitlyn reasoned, humming for a beat or two before following it up, “ You’re not a guest.”
“I guess so.”
“Sit down,” Caitlyn instructed– raising her head so that she could make eye contact with Vi, who still seemed a little confused by the whole thing.
“Isn’t that your bench?”
Caitlyn simply patted the empty space next to her, her pale palm against the cold of the wood, “C’mon.”
Vi blinked once, and then twice, before obeying– throwing herself against the seat, her armour making a slightly loud thud.
“I’ll take it the ball was bad?” Was the first question she asked, swooping her hair back into place from how messed up it had gotten whilst they were running.
“Awful,” Caitlyn replied, letting out the heaviest sigh possible. “I’d much rather spend time with you. ”
“We both know you can’t do that,” Vi reasoned. Despite making her fair share of unreasonable decisions, Vi had always been a voice of reason within Caitlyn's life– and Caitlyn was quite sure she wouldn't trade that for the world.
“Why can’t I?”
“You know why.”
Silence followed Vi’s words. A comfortable, calm silence– nothing particularly new for either of them. What was new, however, was the way that they maintained eye contact, both of their eyes sparkling, glistening under the stars. The way that Vi snaked her sore, scarred fingers into Caitlyn's hand was another new addition, too– gently running her thumb across the pale skin.
Silence had never felt so loud.
And Caitlyn had never wanted to break it so much.
The thrumming of her heart inside her chest was immense , absolute heat rising to her cheeks as Vi leaned in ever so slightly closer, and closer, and–
“Can I kiss you, Violet?” Caitlyn asked, the butterflies twirling and dancing inside her stomach.
Vi simply smiled, pulling herself in even closer , slight hints of nervousness across her face as she pressed her lips against Caitlyn’s. They were soft and sweet and lovely in all the ways that the other girls Caitlyn's ever kissed before weren't. And Vi was gentle with her– ever so kind and tender whilst she tightened her grip on Caitlyn’s fingers.
And when she pulled away again, Vi’s lips weren't curved up into her usual grin, but rather into a smile that was a lot shyer, a lot more satisfied.
“I thought you'd never ask.”