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“Ma’am, tell us the story!”
“Again?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Please, Ma’am.”
“Your story is the best!”
“Madam Rosmerta’s are not the same!”
“But you heard that too many times already”, she said, trying to make it sound like she was complaining. Kids were never a nuisance, not when they asked her for stories and for memories. She left her work (an enormous embroidered tapestry for the dining room of a rich banker) unattended on her desk and turned towards the voices.
Five heads were looking back at her, their big and pleading eyes ready for wonder. They wanted to hear about the dragon, to dream about incredible deeds, to vicariously live a life that was always going to be outside their reach — all through her words.
“Please, Ma’am.”
She nodded and shushed them towards the kitchen. As if by magic, the five children, with their clothes mended and their pockets full of dreams, rushed to sit down. The room was suddenly filled with awkward chatter as they took their places on the benches around the large fireplace.
She smiled. Why would she refuse to give kids, who will surely grow up to be farmers (if they were to survive the winter), half an hour of adventures around the fire?
“Listen closely,” she began, dancing her fingers near the red tongues of the hearth. The light, caught up in her golden rings, made her hands shine in the shadow. The kids' mesmerized faces made her giggle. “It’s an old story, of old times, when dragons were still walking among us. In a far-far away castle there was a lovely princess. But, as she was cursed of a curse that could only be broken by love's first kiss, she was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible fire-breathing dragon. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but none prevailed. She waited in the dragon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love and true love's first kiss…”
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She knew someone was approaching because the dragon was awake and getting impatient. She could feel it walking around her tower, again and again, its monstrous paws hitting the ground and causing aftershock after aftershock. It was not the kind of excited impatience it had when from the Castle someone would bring it food. It was something different and Mary had finally learned to recognize it: a knight was approaching.
She rose to her feet and, ignoring the rumbled sheets of her bed and the mess all around, she rushed to the east window of her tower. She had seen many of them in the past years, but none had successfully reached her. Over the years, she had seen iridescent plumes bathed in sunlight, helmets adorned with feathers of every colour, like a peacock's tail. She had seen the blinding sheen of weapons, shields and armour. She had heard the sound of battle horns and male voices swearing to save her at any cost. Mary had always found it romantic and chivalrous to be willing to pay for her hand with their lives, or those of their pages. There had been many, sure, more that she could count on the fingers of her hands. She had seen more in the past couple of years, from the moment she turned seventeen, and with such an intensity she wondered if anyone was keeping track of time passing. Someone other than herself, that is.
The desolate, empty wasteland stretching between the castle and the dense and impenetrable forest (that defended it like a second wall) was completely empty. Completely empty. Not even dust was brave enough to rise on that hot day.
Mary squinted, looking for the sign of a weapon or a red cloak to show her where the knight was. She sighed and leaned on the window sill, keeping her chin up with the palm of her hand. It’s not fun if I cannot see you, she mumbled to herself.
She peeped over the sill, to check if she could at least see the dragon. Its green tail was gently swaying with slow movements. That was not the sight Mary was hoping for. She groaned, alone, once again. Annoyed, she stamped her feet on the ground in a miserable attempt to hold back her tears. With each knight, she had hoped to finally be saved– with each knight! Or maybe, with most of them. She smiled thinking back at the one that managed to escape. He was too sure of himself and too vain for her liking. Not that they managed to talk! But he kept calling her name during the fight, begging to be admired. And luckily, Mary had looked out the window just in time to see him run away, his golden hair a mess, his blue cloak torn apart by the dragon’s claws.
That’s been really fun, she thought.
But deaths like the one that just happened were not entertaining. She turned her back to the window and looked at what to do now, to keep her mind entertained—
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“Why would death be entertaining?”, one of the kids asked. She was six or seven and, presumably, had lost someone really close.
“Stop interrupting!”, another one chimed in. “Ma’am, explain later.”
“Death is not entertaining, but the Princess here doesn’t know better.” She gave the fire another block of wood and it thanked her, crackling happily among them. “She’s alone all the time and she has no real family to love–”
But before she could continue to explain, one of the kids got too impatient and interrupted. “Ma’am, please, go on!”
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She turned her back to the window and looked at what to do then, to keep her mind entertained for the rest of the day. She had books that she had read already, some neatly in the bookshelf by her bed, some scattered on the ground (it was not her fault she couldn’t find a comfortable position!). She had her violin, whom she was supposed to play to call suitors to the castle (but she hated playing that thing and its sound annoyed the dragon!). She had paint, to let her imagination free (but she had liked painting the walls of her bedroom better and had now no space left!). She had yarn and Egyptian cotton to perfect her embroidery skills (but she didn’t want to stand still under the light of a candle).
“How boring!” She groaned. “How long does it take to kill a dragon? How difficult can it be?”
She laid on her bed, her face buried in her pillow. She moved convulsively on the surface, up, down, on her side, on her other side, but couldn’t find a comfortable position. She looked around to find the source of her discomfort, then checked under her mattress to see if there was something there, then groaned again. Boredom was the worst punishment for a princess like Princess Mary. She wanted to spend time with maids and friends. She wanted to go to balls, and sit on the throne waiting for all guests to kneel down to her and— no, that sounded absolutely awful. She looked at the ceiling where she had painted tree branches, lilies and birds. She wanted to run free. She wanted to swim in rivers and feel the sun warm her skin. How long had passed since the last time she ran? How long had it been since the last time she rode a horse?
If only the evil witch didn’t curse her! If only her father didn’t annoy her! Instead, she was cursed, destined to bring her family line to an end, and was told to wait there for her One True Love. Bored to death.
She could’ve had friends, real ones. Instead, she had a dragon that couldn’t be trained and would instead eat all her suitors.
She groaned once more and kicked her feet on the mattress. She wanted to make a scene, but no one was there to see her.
Suddenly, the dragon screamed in pain. It was a sound like nothing Mary had ever heard before: heartbreaking, aching and terrible. It made her skin crawl. Another scream followed close after, then a thud so loud the tower shook from its foundations. Enemies? Ravagers? Mary wondered. If so, she had to hide. But where could she hide? Any marauder would know to check her wardrobe, or the casket full of beautiful clothes she had by the end of her bed. She was panicking. She needed to think. She needed to run.
“Princess Mary! The dragon has been defeated. Come down from your tower!”
She stood up as soon as the voice stopped. The world started spinning around Mary, and she felt like the ground was falling away. Still she rushed out the door. Her fears disappeared like a cloud rushed away by a strong wind. And in a second she was running down the stairs, a never ending series of dusty mirrors, broken chandeliers and past glory. Everything around her was dead, lifeless, stuck in a dream. She was the only thing apparently out of place. She had no time for manners as she rushed outside the castle. She held up her wide skirt with her hands while the sound of her heels echoed through the air. If she were at her parents’ castle, a voice would have tried to stop her run (she could easily remember the voice of one of the maids scolding her during her childhood), her ankles in full display and without her headdress on. But Mary was alone, and she couldn’t care less about what anyone would think of her excitement. She hoped her saviour would see past her frizzy hair and love her for who she really was.
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“Of course he will!” Chanted the kids with one voice. “That’s what the curse said!”
She smiled and wondered how many times she had said the same story with the same words. But that’s how the story goes…
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Of course he will! She said to herself. That’s what the curse said!
And so, with renewed joy, she rushed to meet her one true love.
The great green dragon was laying on the ground, its large head resting on the floor. It looked like he was sleeping, as drool came from its gaping jaws and smoke came from its nose. But it was completely motionless. Apart from its size, the most impressive thing was the black blood gushing from its neck. The dragon had fallen.
The knight stood waiting, his hands clasped on the hilt of his bloody sword. Despite not being very tall, he looked regal with his armour as white as the lilies Mary had drawn on the walls of her room. Although it was not perfectly clean (the dragon's blood had stained it in several places, and earth had settled on its shoulders) he looked like the perfect knight that was often praised in the songs. Mary did not recognise him — his helmet was still on his head and his cuirass bore no crest. The mystery excited her.
Mary rushed to him and jumped around his figure. “You did it! You rescued me! You're amazing”, she said, all at once. “Thy deed is great, and thine heart is pure.” She stopped solemnly in front of the stranger, straightening her long skirt and trying to iron out the creases. She brushed off the dust, before proceeding to speak with the elegance and composure she had seen her mother do years before. “I am eternally in your debt.”
She waited for the knight to do something - talk, kneel, show himself. Damn, who was that guy? Why was he standing like a stockfish (or whatever the old cook would say when she was the one found peeping through the kitchen keyhole)?
She wondered if he was too righteous. Was he maybe waiting for her to order him something? Sure she was a princess, but he was her True Love.
“The battle is won”, Mary suggested, her voice sweet but unsure. She sheepishly smiled. “You may remove your helmet, good Sir Knight.”
“Uh, no.”
“Why not?” She stood straighter, confused. “How will you kiss me with your helmet on?”
A laughter emerged from the armour. “I won’t kiss you, Princess.”
Confusion morphed into something that reminded her of pain. She didn’t like to feel hurt. “What is so funny?” She crossed her arms, annoyed.
“Let's just say I'm not your type, okay?”
Mary sneered. “Of course, you are. You're my rescuer. Now--now remove your helmet.”
“I really don't think this is a good idea.”
“Just take off the helmet.”
“I'm not going to.”
“Take it off. Now!” She stood her ground, her arms crossed and her foot stomping on the dusty pavement.
The knight visibly sighed and shook his head. “As you command, Your Highness. But don't say I didn't warn you, because I did.”
He then finally took off his helmet.
Mary was not scared, just… surprised. The shining armour revealed a long braid of red hair and a freckled face and…
“You're...a woman”, she whispered, confused.
The stranger raised an eyebrow and smiled a looped smile. “Oh, you were expecting Prince Charming?”
“Yes, actually! Oh, no. This is all wrong. You're not supposed to be a woman!”
In her head she could hear distinctly all the many voices that reassured her that she would finally be free once more as soon as a valiant young man had appeared. He would need to have a pure heart, of course, but he would still be a man. Her freedom depended on a man and only on one man. The one that was supposed to love her.
Could a woman love her as a man would? Could a woman love her? She had never had close friends, and she had never experienced love before. The books her mother had sent her only talked about princesses being saved by knights, falling in love with them and nothing else.
She bit her bottom lip, deep in thought. Could books be wrong? Would there be something else she didn’t know about the world? She was well-read, but she had been alone for so long!
She walked off, away from the mysterious knight and from the dragon that laid at her feet. This is wrong. And yet… and yet, she was the one that saved Mary. That female knight had killed the dragon… easily and without making a sound. Mary didn’t even notice the battle happening just outside of her tower. That woman was a good fighter, if women could be fighters.
“No man managed to save you in the past four years.” The knight, the woman, shrugged and looked ahead to the calm sky. “Yes, they started four years ago, Princess Mary. I know because I saw them come to my best friend to be healed by the dragon’s burns.”
Maybe she’s like Bradamante, the knight heroine in “Orlando”, she thought. Or maybe she’s a follower of Bellona, the goddess of war…
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“What’s a Bellona?”
“Who is Bremante?”
“Bradamante, not Bremante!”
“Sshh, shut up and let Madam talk!”
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Mary moved closer once again, then she started walking around her, studying her carefully. She was not masculine, not as Mary would have imagined a female knight to be. She had that kind of grounded femininity that Mary had always loved. So she was certainly beautiful, with her long red braid and big green eyes. Her pale face was sunburned and her forehead and her neck were damp with sweat. If she had been clean and well dressed, Mary would have mistaken her for a noblewoman.
“Have you always wanted to be a knight?”
“Not at all, I wanted to take care of kids and wanted to bring them to the world. But I have yet to find my place in the world before I try to help others.”
“You risk your life though.”
“Well, I am quite good, don’t you think?” She nudged at the dragon at their feet.
“Why did you save me?”
“Because it’s not right, Princess. No woman should be be locked up–”
Mary laughed. “I am a Princess, silly, I am not a regular woman. And I’m not locked up.”
The knight looked around, to the devastation of that old castle. She didn’t need to talk, Mary knew exactly what she was thinking. Mary was locked up there, and she was locked up there in an attempt to save her family line. She rolled her eyes, conceding her the win.
“Sure, I'll admit that it's not the kind of place a princess like me would usually be found in.”
“I’ve always known you were made for better places.”
“You knew me?”
“Yes, as anyone from Hogwarts. You are our Princess, I remember you sitting on your father’s lap during the games, or saluting the knights before their expeditions.”
“And you risked your life to save me?”
“I was quite confident I could save you, your Highness”.
“What made you think you are better than the many valiant men that tried before?”
“I am not a man, for a start.” The mysterious woman joked and her bright green eyes sparkled like gemstones. “But in all seriousness, I’ve trained for years, at least since the day you were locked here. My dearest friend helped get back on my feet every time, healing my wounds. I travelled far and long, met people and lost others, all because I wanted to find my place. And because I thought it was wrong what they did to you.”
Mary didn’t know what to say. No one had ever taught her what to do, when someone was basically declaring their feelings. All her books and all the stories made it all too easy, to the point of feeling now absolutely useless. Princess gets saved and they fall in love. Amazing, how? And what is love? Was it the feeling of uneasiness she was feeling in her hands and in her belly? No, it couldn’t be.
The woman, seemingly irritated by the princess's reticence, made her way towards what Mary thought was the castle's entrance.
“Where are you going?” Her voice was breaking and she coughed a bit, annoyed by the dust and dirt.
“To get my horse.”
“Horse?”
“How did you think I got here? On a deer?”
Mary scoffed and crossed her arms, before turning away. She waited until she heard the horse's hooves and waited a little longer for good measure. She knew the cavalier was behind her, watching her. She could feel her eyes running over her figure, from her hair to her toes.
The silence stretched between them.
Mary, despite being used to it, always alone in that castle (and with a company that was not really talkative), was getting nervous. She brought a hand to her lips and picked on the skin, in a failing attempt to slow her heart from running.
The silence became unbearable.
She turned. “What’s your name? I ought to know the name of my saviour.”
The woman nodded slowly and curtsied, like a real lady. Mary’s breath got caught in her throat again.
“I’m Lily Evans, your Highness, at your service.”
At your service, Mary thought, playing with her lips.
She could do different things. She could order Lily to kiss her, and see if the curse was indeed broken. She could have Lily rush to her parents’ castle, to have another dragon put there and for her to wait for the Prince Charming the books were talking about. She could ignore her obligations and trust Lily, run away and live all the adventures she dreamt about.
She looked at Lily. Her skin was a bit sunburned here and there, and the redness made her look like a ripe peach. And oh, Mary loved peaches.
“You said you became a knight because… you thought it was wrong what they did to me. Do you often fight for what you think is right?”
Lily straightened her back. Her white armour was becoming golden in the oblique light of the sun setting. Her hair looked like a halo, or an open fire. “I have to fight for what I think is right, because if I don’t fight I am not being true to myself, and if I’m not true to myself then I’m not living my life to my fullest.”
Mary groaned and sat on the first stairs leading back to her bedroom. Lily made it sound all so easy— run away, travel, find who you are. Mary had to choose, for the first time in her life, and was petrified by the possibilities ahead. It was scarier than she ever imagined, scarier than living with a dragon circling round and round around your bedroom, with no way out. Why didn't her books have any answers? Why no one was there to tell her what to do? She wanted… she wanted… but no, surely she couldn’t.
Her mind and her heart were a battlefield only a knight could win.
“Where have you been?” All this time.
“I travelled to the open sea, then went to the far East to learn how to use two swords and how to banish spirits. Then, I followed a caravan to the far west in search of the King of the Goblins, to rescue a girl who had been trapped in their dances for twenty years. I went to the far north to help the King of Durmstrang to stop an illegal market of dragon blood.”
Mary was in awe: while she was trapped in a tower, Lily had seen all the angles of the known world. She had met people, gnomes, elves and sea monsters. Oh, Mary knew what she wanted, but couldn’t say it. She was a Princess and Princesses like her had duties to fulfill and parents waiting for them at home. She really couldn’t.
“So, what are you doing?” Lily suddenly asked. She was playing with one of her gloves, twisting it in her hands. If Mary didn’t know better, she looked a bit nervous. But Lily, indomitable and brave Lily, could not be nervous.
“What do you mean?” She tried to sound convinced, resolute. “I have to wait for my true love to save me.”
Lily smiled. “You really didn’t listen.”
“What?”
“I told you, Princess, that you are free from the cage.”
“But you won’t kiss me– it’s the kiss that will make me free.”
Lily scratched the back of her head. Mary watched her dirty hand disappear in the red drapery of her hair.
“I won’t kiss you now, Princess. For love to be true, we should probably talk about the future, discuss succession with your parents, hold meetings with the other reigns in the region, maybe work on some alliances…”
Mary tried not to sight too loudly, but evidently failed. Lily suddenly turned to her, a mischievous smile on her lips.
“Or maybe you are more like me… and you would rather come with me on an adventure first?”
“Why?”
“Travelling with a companion is better than travelling alone.”
Lily had probably found something in Mary’s eyes, something Mary didn’t want to recognise in herself. She mounted her horse and then offered Mary her hand.
“Are we going?”
Mary looked at her hair, shining like flames in the sun. She was the fire of a home - giving shelter, warming up old bones, and giving hope to tired hearts. She was the fire of torches - lighting the way, vanquishing spectres, and bringing reason to the darkness.
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“Darling, I’m home! What were you up to?”
She turned to see a red-haired woman closing the front door with her back. Her arms were full with vegetables, greens and flowers. Dangling from her belt, the short dagger she used to cut herbs was shining in the light of the fire.
“Telling the kids about you”, Mary murmured more to herself than to anyone else. Then she smiled at Lily and stood up to help her with some new potion she wanted to make.
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