The Challenger

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 1

"Princess!" The heels of Astrida's lady's maid eagerly clicked after her on the granite floor, "Princess Astrid!" She called out again, more insistently. Astrid stopped, plastering on a fake smile, and turned to the eager woman.

"Yes Mathilde, what may I help you with?" The older woman scrutinized her with a curled upper lip and then said, "You shouldn't be wearing those pants."

Sure, Mathilde was her lady's maid but she was also seen as someone with a higher status in the king's staff. After all, she'd practically raised Astrid all by herself. However, the problem with Mathilde was that she was always very traditional, never straying far from the old way of doing things.

This time it was Astrid's turn to scrutinize the woman with ice-cold eyes and graying hair. "What's wrong with my pants?" Astrid asked, knowing damn well what Mathilde would say.

"Have you ever seen a young lady with-with," She huffed, trying to find the right words, "With your status wearing pants?" She spit out the last word like it was bitter on her tongue.

"No, and I think it'd be smart to change that right about now." Astrid shrugged, turning away from Mathilde. She had greater matters to attend to today.

"Young lady, I don't care who you are," Mathilde followed after her, making Astrid wish it wasn't considered rude to roll your eyes, "My job is to make sure that you are adequately prepared for any royal obligation and right now, you are clearly far from ready."

Astrid yearned to respond with a curt, "Get over it." But she refrained once more, thinking back to the class she had been forced to take while growing up.

"With all due respect, Madame Mathilde, I will not be replacing my pants with anything else," Astrid stated plainly without looking back.

Click, click, click.

She heard Mathilde remain on her heels as she moved through the castle. "I'm-I'm sorry," The woman insisted eagerly, "but I can't let you into that courtroom with those pants. Your father would kill me."

"My father," Astrid bit out while walking further into the castle, "Will do no such thing." She was old enough to make her own decisions when it came to her appearance. For god's sake, she was old enough to sit in court now.

Mathilde yelped in a squeaky tone, "You'll be sorry when there's no one here to wait on you!" Astrid suddenly stopped, turning to the woman who was out of breath from chasing after her.

"Do you really think that these-these pants are a danger to your position here?" Astrid's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Mathilde nodded. "After twenty-one years?"

"Yes, after twenty-one years. Your father-" Astrid stopped Mathilde, holding out a finger. "You know how I feel about that man."

"Which is why I know you're wearing this," She gestured wildly at Astrid's outfit, "To spite him." Astrid ran her hands along the sleek, beige khakis that covered her legs, then looked down at her simple navy turtleneck. Mathilde had curled her almost white, blonde hair into soft ringlets and applied some subtle makeup before Astrid had put her outfit on.

"I'm wearing this for myself," Astrid looked her right in the eyes, "And if my father chooses to focus on something so-so trivial, I will be speaking to him. Privately."

They faced off, not taking their eyes off each other. "Are you going to make me late, Mathilde?" Astrid asked, sounding bored. This contrasted with the nerves that currently ignited throughout her body. She couldn't be late.

"I'm not leaving until you promise me that neither of us will get in trouble." "Must you be so stubborn?" Astrid groaned. "I'm just as stubborn as you are." They stared at each other in silence for a few beats until Astrid sighed. "We're not going to get in trouble. I'll make sure of it."