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She'd found the honedge in one of the bushes near that one palace. Well, really, the pokémon had found her, by shooting out of there at full speed and only narrowly avoiding hitting her. Initially, she'd been a little freaked out: Ghost-type pokémons had always given her the creeps, and the honedge's behavior had not come off as excessively friendly, to put it mildly.
Once they'd both spent more than a few nerve-wracking seconds staring at each other, though, it had become clear that neither of them wished ill on the other. If anything, the honedge had seemed oddly... sheepish.
Célia had gathered all of her courage to ask, "Do you need something?"
She hadn't planned on catching or even encountering a pokémon; she was just going on a walk. The pokémon kept hovering, her eye darting up and down, left and right, like she didn't know where to look. It was kind of endearing, actually.
That was how, that day, Célia – a saleswoman whose only experience with raising pokémon had been a short internship at a Pokémon Center – had come home with a ghostly sword awkwardly tucked in her purse. She'd spent the next several days frantically PsyduckDuckGoing what to feed a Steel or Ghost-type, and trying to figure out how to fit a new companion into her schedule.
For once, she was grateful to be single.
"I wonder if you were a knight, or something," Célia said to the honedge floating over the bed, staring down at her trainer – if she now counted as one? – as she lay upside down on her bed. "Or maybe you were a princess. Oh!" Célia shot up, startling them both. "I know! I'll call you Princesse!"
The newly named Princesse narrowed her eye and did a twirl, her sash spinning around her.