Chapter Text
Max had only made one promise in her life.
When her father had died, she was ten, holding in her tears bravely. Her father held her hand so tightly, and made her promise that no matter what, no matter how cruel the world was, rain or shine, that she would always be kind. And Max had made that promise, young and full of so much sadness, and wholeheartedly believed that she could keep it.
But then her mother remarried. And then she too had died, leaving Max alone with her cruel stepfather, Neil, and his awful son, Billy. Their heartlessness and backwards view of women meant that she was no longer a valued member of the family, but more of a servant, lowly and unappreciated.
So, slowly, bit by bit, Max began to build a wall, one that could protect her from life’s harrowing ways, and leave her invulnerable to her “family's" cruelty. Now instead of sitting silently, internalising anything thrown her way, she bit back. She would snap, and shout, and became the opposite of who she promised her father that she would be.
Because what was the point of being kind, if all anyone ever was to her was cruel?
To Max, the forest was a solace.
Her house was hell. Her parents, now long gone, haunted her every step. And leaving her room - which was really just an attic with a tired bed in the corner - meant she would be barraged with insults and orders. So it wasn’t exactly her favourite place.
One day when she was fourteen, after a particularly horrible day, she ran off into the woods nearby, and stumbled upon a haven. It was tucked between several large bushes, and under the cover of a large willow tree, but there was plenty of room for someone to sit. During the day the sun shone through the branches, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. And at night the stars turned the world into a beautiful, icy shade of silver. It soon became Max’s place to run to when she needed somewhere to hide.
When she was fifteen, she discovered a secret stash of romance novels hidden in the back of a cupboard, and smuggled them outside, where she could read without any fear of being disturbed. Often she imagined herself as the hero of the stories; the knight saving the princess, the brave soldier slaying a dragon, and even simply the girl who fell in love. Over the years, the books were so well-loved that they were tattered, and she could even recite them word for word, but she knew it was all simply a fantasy; one that would never exist outside of her solitary hiding place.
That was, until someone found her.
Max was spending an afternoon in the forest, re-reading some story about love at first sight, and pumpkins and slippers when she heard a voice. She braced herself for her stepfather’s harsh voice, fumbling around in the grass to find something to defend herself with, when she noticed it was not the voice of an older, bitter man, but one of a young woman.
“Wow, this looks magical. Mr Fibbly, you stay here while I investigate.”
Max listened as light footsteps moved closer and closer until the tree branches hiding her from the world were pushed aside and she locked eyes with the girl disturbing her silence. The girl looked to be about the same age as her, in her teens, with wavy brown hair tied elegantly behind her face, and was wearing a dress simply too fancy for exploring the woods in. She had a warm smile, and her eyes were a rich, deep brown that drew Max in immediately. She wore a bright grin, as if they were having a simple, friendly encounter.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to disturb you, miss.” The girl spoke, her voice polished and perfect.
Max was still stunned. She had not spoken to another person outside of her house in several years, and had somehow forgotten who to have a conversation. “Um. Who else is with you? Why are you here?”
The girl smiled sweetly, and tilted her head. “What do you mean, I’m here alone?”
“No you’re not. You were talking before, to a Mr… Finlay?”
“Oh, you mean Mr Fibbly? He’s my horse!” She parted the branches behind her to reveal a chestnut horse softly grazing, tied to one of the many trees.
Max dipped her head, slightly embarrassed. She rose to her feet, feeling unbalanced at such a low angle, but found she was still shorter than the girl. “Oh. Uh, I’m Max.”
The girl blinked. “That’s a boy's name.”
“Well, I’m a girl. And you are?”
“Oh, I’m J- uh, El. Call me El.” She reached out a hand, and Max shook it, temporarily distracted by the softness of her palm. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Even in such… peculiar circumstances.”
“Sure. You use a lot of big words.”
El smiled, her eyes crinkling. “Maybe I could teach you.”
They spoke for hours about everything and nothing, Max finally having someone to confide in. When they eventually left the den, finding it to be dark, stars twinkling overhead, El had briefly apologised before jumping on her horse and riding off into the sunset.
When Max got home, nothing the universe threw her way could erase the smile from her face.
Their friendship began like that, in shared stories and brief meetings under the cover of the trees. And it continued as they grew older, still finding time and solace in each other. El had started bringing books, ones that she’d loved and even ones that she’d hated, just so that they had something to talk about, and Max eagerly read them, even daring to bring them home, reading under the light of a candle.
El never revealed much about her life, only small details here and there. But Max knew the things that really mattered; her favourite colour, her favourite book, even the story of when she rode a horse for the first time and broke her arm. Max spent her days laughing, and her nights dreaming of brown hair, brown eyes and soft hands.
On Max’s eighteenth birthday, she woke up excitedly, an arrangement to meet with El buzzing around her mind. She raced through her chores, and breezed through the house, but paused when she spotted a large notice by the door. She stood nearer to read it.
King Martin of Hawkins wishes to announce a
royal ball to find a suitor for Princess Jane.
All eligible suitors are invited to attend on
the night of the Twentieth of July.
Max dragged her eyes down the page, when her heart stopped. At the bottom of the notice was a portrait of a beautiful young lady, and Max could not mistake who the portrait regarded, as she had dreamed of her, day and night. It was El.
Max marched out to the woods, furious. She found El pacing back and forth, a delicately warped present in her hands. She smiled brightly when she noticed her arrival.
“Max!”
“Don’t.”
El frowned, a confused look on her face. “What? Are you okay?” She stepped forward to grab Max’s arm, but she flinched away.
“No, of course I’m not okay. You lied to me. I trusted you. I thought you trusted me! You’ve been my best friend for years, El, or should I call you Jane, because now I find out that’s actually your name!”
Jane’s face was flushed in surprise, her jaw dropped. Max’s face was flushed in anger, and she continued.
“And you’re a princess. Not just a princess, but the princess! Convenient of you to leave that out!”
“Max, I’m sorry.”
“Go on, I’m curious what your explanation is.”
Jane’s mouth opened and closed a few times, her eyes darting around, clearly in panic. “I- I have to go.”
“Of course you do, of course! Go on, I won’t stop you.”
Jane’s eyes were teary, a sad look on her face. “Max-”
“No, it’s okay. I know now that you never really were my friend.”
Jane turned suddenly to look Max in the face, aghast. “I’m so offended you feel that way! You’re the best thing in my life, Max.”
Max laughed, but she had tears running down her face, so it didn’t have the desired effect. “Yeah, sure.”
Jane took a step forward, and shoved the present into Max’s hands. “I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere. But happy birthday, Max.”
She leaned in closer, cupped her cheek with one hand. Max finally relented, pulling her in for a hug. “I just don’t get it.”
“I’m not sure if you’d accept my explanation just now.”
Max watched as El Jane mounted her horse. She turned and gave her a heartfelt glance. “I wish you were a man, so that you could dance with me at the ball.”
As she rode off into the horizon once again, Max whispered, mostly to herself, “Me too.”
And then she got the most wicked idea.