Chapter Text
Tap. Tap. Tap.
She bounces her leg impatiently, the heels of her shoes clicking on the palace floors.
Taptaptaptaptap—
The sound echoes around the empty hallway, bouncing off the stone floors and low ceilings. Everything was so quiet — and boring. Why couldn’t this be happening in one of the more lively halls they’d passed on the way here? It was like all the palace folk were ignoring this wing on purpose.
The princess shuffles her feet closer to her chair, resting her cheek on her palm with a sigh. The squishy caterpillar antennae sticking out of her head flop to the side forlornly, pushing her bangs out of place and sliding her small flower crown slightly off center.
How long were alliance meetings meant to go?! It felt like she’d been there for hours!
(She checks the communicator in her pocket. It had been two minutes.)
Ugh. Well, this was sure to be a drag…
She closes her eyes and leans back in her lonely wooden chair, posted outside the door specifically for her and her alone.
She knew this morning that her parents would be going to Wind Chime Valley for an alliance meeting with the Emperor and Empress. And now, because she was soulbound to the Windarian princess, she was officially a part of that alliance too.
Of course, they hadn’t mentioned that once they’d gotten there she wouldn’t be allowed to attend the actual meeting. So she was sent to the hallway to wait.
She couldn’t believe it. She’d been dragged allll the way out here, and for what?! So she could sit here and do nothing for hours?! She had plants at home to water!
The worst part was she didn’t have her own wings yet, and she didn’t stand a chance walking all the way home alone, so she really was stuck here at the mercy of this other kingdom.
Typical Windarians, being awful and annoying and inconvenient. This was all. their. fault.
She groans and sits back up, her leg bouncing again. Her hands itch for something to do — a paper and pencil, a nice paint set, a ball of clay, anything…
In theory, this was fine. She was definitely old enough to be on her own for a while. She was a whole ten years old, after all!
Besides, she’d practically been raising herself, anyway. The Queen and King weren’t really… children people. She already knew how to take care of herself, and had been for years. It was fine and normal to be alone for long hours of the day.
That didn’t mean it wasn’t incredibly boring, though.
Just as she’s wishing for any sort of distraction, she hears a crash and a shout from the other side of the door. She startles and snaps to attention, automatically sliding into the mold of the perfect model heir she'd grown so used to presenting as.
The heavy wooden door is thrown open, and a Windarian servant marches out, holding something writhing in her hands.
“How many times do we have to tell you?! There are no children allowed in official meetings!” she scolds.
The princess blinks. Did she say there was a child in her hands—?!
The Valley was so strange…
The servant tosses her hands towards the ground, releasing — wait, was that a rat?! — into the air. The small creature hits the ground and tumbles, somersaulting and growing into—
Oh. It was a boy?
The servant dusts her hands off, putting her fists firmly on her hips.
“And don’t come back, your highness!”
The door is shut, and then they’re alone: the Princess of Mesahra Marikova, and… the weird rat boy.
She holds perfectly still, not particularly wanting to be noticed by the strange child. She watches silently as he sneezes, rubbing his nose and shaking out his messy short hair.
He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place why. Maybe he was a servant she’d seen on the way here?
But the servant had called him “your highness,” so he wasn't a servant… perhaps the Valley Princess had a brother, then.
“Stupid meetings… why can’t I listen to all the adults gossip? Isn’t it my kingdom too?!” the boy was mumbling to himself. He hops up and brushes off his loose sleeves as he turns around. “So lame, what am I s’pposed to do all afternoon n—”
He looks up and locks eyes with the princess sitting in his hallway. He blinks at her in confusion, and she blinks back.
Then, much to her horror, the boy’s face lights up with recognition.
“Oh! Princess Najaha! What a pleasant surprise!” He grins, showing off a slight gap in his front teeth, as well as tiny fangs. “I didn’t think you’d be here too!”
“Do I know you?” She says, crossing her arms across her chest — half to appear more regal, half to just put anything between herself and him.
The boy huffs and crosses his arms too. “Well, I would hope so! I know we’ve only been soulbound for a week, but I’d like to think you’d still remember me!”
Wait— what?
He had to be joking.
Claiming to be soulbound to her was a serious accusation to make. Only one soulbond pair existed in the entire world, and the magic coming from their bond was crucial to her kingdom's (and, admittedly, his kingdom's) survival. Because of that, she was kind of a big deal here. Maybe he had recognized her as being the reason he could shapeshift into a weird rat in the first place and decided to play a prank on her — but to pretend to be bound to her was blasphemy!
… And yet—
Under her skin, she can feel the faintest hum of energy; it had started during the soulbond ceremony, and it hadn’t stopped since. And was it just her overactive imagination, or did the humming feel stronger when he looked at her?
“No, that can’t be right,” she scoffs, brushing aside the uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. “I think I’d remember being soulbound to the likes of you.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “But I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am!”
“You’re not!”
“I am!”
“Gah! You’re not!” She throws her hands up, glaring daggers at him. “Look at yourself! How could you possibly claim to be Princess N—!”
“Prince.”
She stops, the unexpected interruption ruining her flow, “… pardon?”
“Prince. I’m a prince,” he nods once. “Prince Noriaki, at your service!” He grins, bowing with a flourish.
She stares at him like he’d suddenly grown a new set of ears. Which, in all fairness, he had: small black panda ears were now poking out of his hair.
“… Okay? Are you, like…” her eyes shift around the hallway, begging for someone to come by and take this boy away from her, “the princess’ neglected little brother, or something?”
He frowns, straightening back up. “What? No, I’m an only child.”
“But you’re not the princess?”
“Nope,” he says, popping the P. “The princess is dead, and I killed her.”
“What?!” she cries, blood draining from her face. She jumps to her feet, mentally debating between attacking him (with what?), breaking into the meeting next door (what would they care?), or running away (where could she go?). All of those ideas canceled out, keeping her frozen in place.
“Wh— what did you do to her?!”
“Nothing!” the boy says quickly, taking a step back and putting his hands up. “Nothing, I— Sweet berries, can you not take a joke?!”
She wouldn’t admit it, but frightened tears were pricking painfully behind her scowl. That was not a funny joke. “You just said you killed the princess!”
But, now that she was thinking about it… if the princess was dead, shouldn’t she be dead too? Wasn’t that how the soulbond worked — a life for a life? Maybe the princess wasn’t dead… maybe she was locked away, while this impersonator took her place, and—
The (dangerous?) boy rolls his eyes. “I am the princess. Or, I was, but now I’m a prince instead. See?” He spreads his arms and turns in a circle, tilting his head to keep one eye warily on her when his back is turned.
She watches, taking mental notes. Short hair, tunic and pants, no crown, severe lack of respect… definitely not a princess.
When he’s done, he leans against the wall opposite of her, crossing his arms, one eyebrow raised. “There. Are you satisfied now?”
She keeps scowling at him. “How do I know you’re not just pretending to be the princes— prince. How do I know you’re really royalty?” She crosses her arms back. “What’s something only the real prince would know?”
“Uhh…” the boy looks around, chewing on his bottom lip as he thinks. “I knowww the best place to sneak into the kitchens and steal raspberry tarts? Aaand that my dad snores when he sleeps… and— oh! I’ve got it!” He snaps his fingers. “Your middle name is Itchy! They said so in the soulbound ceremony — Najaha Itchy Rosalaida!”
She wrinkles her nose, confused and a little offended. “Wh— no? First of all, it's Maritza, not itchy. And second of all— why would that prove that you know me?”
He shrugs. “I dunno, if my middle name was itchy like that, I wouldn't go around telling people! I'd keep it a secret. For serious ceremony usage only.”
“I— It's my mother's name! And she's the Monarch, so everyone already knows her name. And it's not itchy!”
“Well, I didn't know that!”
“You're not helping your case,” she huffs. “You don't even look like the princess.”
The prince scowls and makes direct eye contact with her. As she watches, his appearance begins to change; his hair, originally a short grown-out gradient of blonds and browns, grows longer and darkens until it's almost black and shoulder length. The panda ears on top of his head retract and normal slightly pointed humanoid ears appear instead. His facial features soften a touch, and then—
There she was. That was the princess from the ceremony.
And not just a look-alike, either. Citizens from the Valley were known to shapeshift, yes, but only royalty could fully change their appearance like that. And, given the Emperor and Empress were still in the other room, and they only had one child…
It really was her.
The girl(?) in front of her studies her shocked expression, seemingly satisfied with her reaction. “Now do you believe me?”
She nods, and all the princess(?)’s features quickly revert back to how they were a moment ago. So quickly, in fact, she would've missed it had she blinked in that moment.
The prince shakes himself all over, almost as if trying to get the rest of the princess-ness off of him. “Blehh… I hate that haircut. Anyway, with that out of the way—” he walks over and extends a hand to her, “Prince Noriaki. Nice to meet you, as the real me this time.”
She cautiously takes it, shaking it once. “Pleasure.”
Upon letting go, she sinks into to her chair again, instinctively wiping her hand on her dress. Noriaki frowns at that, just slightly, and leans back against the opposite wall.
“You can call me Nori, if you'd like,” he says from across the hall. “It's what my parents call me. And it was my nickname as a princess too, so…”
She hums vaguely at the floor. Nori was a nice name, but no, she wasn’t calling him that… had to keep it professional.
After a moment, she clears her throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, Prince Noriaki…”
“Hm?” He stops nonchalantly picking at his nails and looks up. “What’s up?”
“Well, it’s just… why are you a prince now?”
It was probably a rude question to ask, but she really needed to know what was wrong with this kid. He was a princess just last week — what happened? How had he gotten out of it so easily?
“Oh, I was always a prince,” he says simply. “I was only a princess for that ceremony because your parents expected a princess, for like, consistency with royal decree or something. Because I guess, technically—” he air quotes, “— I was welcomed into the kingdom as a baby princess first. But everyone knew I was a prince preeetty quickly. And now, I’m back to my usual self!”
He grins, spreading his arms wide. He lowers them again when he sees her confused look.
“I did tell you that, didn’t I? I'm so sure I did— before the start of the ceremony?” He tilts his head. “It was only a week ago. Don’t you remember that?”
Of course she remembered, now that he mentioned it. It was one of the strangest things she’d ever heard. She had thought it was a joke, and he didn’t explain it much before they had to go. She just…
“... I didn’t realize someone could choose to not be a princess,” she admits.
The prince snorts. “Well, why not? I did, didn’t I? Then again, it’s a lot easier when you’re a shapeshifter…” he yawns, and behind him, a set of feathered lavender wings sprout out of his back. He sinks to the floor and sits cross-legged, stretching out his new wings. “But yeah, you can definitely choose to be something else. I choose something else, like, every couple of minutes.”
Devs above, she wishes she could make a choice like that… he made it sound so easy.
Out of all the things she wanted to be, ‘princess’ wasn’t all that high on her list. Or— okay, maybe she didn’t really know what she wanted to be, but it wasn’t a princess, probably.
Being a princess meant having no friends because she couldn’t leave the palace alone and no one inside would ever talk to her, and having to go to stupid alliance meetings just to get shut outside upon arrival, and being told to be perfect all the time no matter what, and having all these high expectations, and stupid responsibilities, and on and on and on…
Yeah, she would much rather be something else. She likes to think she’d give up her crown princess title anytime if it meant she didn’t have all the burdens that it came with.
She tugs at the heavy skirt of her dress with a frown. Hmm, maybe she’d like being freed of the weight of some other things, too... she wouldn’t necessarily mind having tunics and pants to wear instead.
She glances at the nearby prince, who was busy picking loose feathers out of his wings. Well… he was a bit strange, but they were technically soulbound, and were expected to get along. At least a little bit, on a professional level.
And he had more experience not being a princess than she did, so…
“Can you make me a prince too?” she bursts out suddenly. “I don’t want to be a princess anymore. I want to be something else, like you. Please?”
Noriaki’s head snaps up, his jaw dropped. His eyes are wide with surprise, but there’s a glimmer of something else too — excitement, maybe? Recognition? Connection?
“I— uh, of course! I can do that, yeah!” He hops to his feet, an anxious but bright smile on his face.
“Good.”
She glances around, making sure the hallway was still empty. When she looks back at Noriaki, she finds him staring at her intently.
She resists the urge to jump back, tucking her arms tightly together instead.
“Uhm… how do you— do it?” she hazards, meeting his eyes.
If it was something awful, it wasn’t too late to run.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out…” he says thoughtfully. He looks her over and gestures for her to get up. “Stand up for me?”
She does so, cautiously stepping away from the safety of her chair. He circles around her, tapping his chin and humming occasionally as he studies her.
She tenses under his gaze, hugging her arms closer defensively. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thinking.”
“About what—?”
“The easiest way to do this… without getting thrown into a dungeon somewhere—” he says, the last part coming out in a jumbled rush. “Well, I have a few ideas. Come on, your floral highness!”
He takes her hand and starts leading her away before she can protest.
But really, when it was between sitting here doing absolutely nothing for Devs know how long, and going on some sort of adventure with her weird soulbonded partner with a chance of no longer having to be a princess anymore?
Well… it was a fairly easy choice.
She looks back only once. The solid wooden door was still shut firmly behind them.