Saving Rose

Chapter 1

Rose hated that it was her birthday. When she was younger, she had relished it. All the decorations and banners and music just for her. Everyone in the palace made a great fuss over her, lavishing her with gifts and attention. It wasn't until she was older that she realized her birthday was an utter disappointment. Every year she wished for the same thing. And every year, she received everything but what she wished for. She knew her tenth birthday would be the same. She would blow out her candles, and make a wish, and then she would open her presents, knowing full well that what she hoped for, what she most desired, would never appear.

It wasn't her fault. Girls weren't supposed to want things like swords and armor. They weren't supposed to fight or go to war. But Rose had lived her whole life knowing that she wanted to defend her castle, defend her father's Kingdom, and she still clung to the hope that one day she would pick up a sword and fight.

The sharp ring of steel on steel clattered from the courtyard below, and Rose rushed to the balcony to sneak a peek at the soldiers as they trained. Their silver armor glinted in the sunlight, sparkling like the deep waters of the lake. The Princess stood mesmerized at the sight, hands gripping the stone railing before her so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Rose? What are you doing?"

The beckoning call of her mother wormed its way into her brain and settled there, gently nagging at her until she could ignore it no more. With a sigh, and a last wistful glance at the soldiers below, Rose turned and made her way back inside the palace.

"I was just...watching the soldiers," she said lamely, eyes peeled to the floor.

"Rose," her mother said, holding out a hand for her daughter. "One day, you'll understand why women don't fight in wars. Why they aren't soldiers. One day you'll understand how important it is for you to help run a Kingdom from the inside, rather than the outside."

Rose reached for her mother's hand, chewing her lip. She wanted to argue. She wanted to proclaim that nothing would change, despite her mother's insistence. After all, her mother had given her that same speech for the last several years, and in all that time Rose had only grown more attached to the idea of having her very own sword.

But rather than say what she was thinking, she remained quiet. She doubted her mother had ever wanted things that women weren't supposed to want. She doubted that her mother knew what it was like to be an outcast, to feel different from everyone else. So, she kept silent on the matter, merely nodding her agreement and following her mother towards the pile of streamers sitting on the table.

"We need to get this place ready for tonight," her mother bristled, digging through the pile. Rose watched as the ribbons of soft silk slipped through her mother's fingers like snakes in the sand, fighting the aching sigh trapped in her chest. She reached a hand into the pile and pulled on one of the streamers, loosing it from the knot and watching with disinterest as the pile unravelled before her.

At the other end of the hall, several maids entered the room. They held their palms aloft, and there, floating no more than an inch above them, were dozens of glittering gemstones. Rose stopped to admire the gems as the maids lifted their hands high in the air. As if tethered to an invisible string, the gemstones rose from their palms and fixed themselves along the rafters. One by one they piled on top of each other, and Rose grinned as they began to form a shimmering chandelier of ruby and sapphire and emerald.

Being able to control gemstones was the only thing that gave her any comfort. If she couldn't swing a sword, at least she could make some of the world's most beautiful gems fly at her command. It wasn't much, of course. All women had the power to float gems about. It was a big part of the reason why women were seen as decorators and homemakers. But Rose found the ability remarkable nonetheless, and there was never a time when she didn't enjoy watching a handful of stones zipping towards her from across the vast hall.

Turning back to the ribbon in her hands, she made her way over to one of the stone pillars that stood along the edge of the room. As she began to weave the silky ribbon around and around, her mother cleared her throat.

"Rose...there's something we need to talk about."

A feeling of unease prickled along her skin as the Princess turned and fixed a stare on her mother's face.

"Is it about the party tonight?" Rose asked, concerned.

"Yes and no." The Queen shook her head, a tight smile on her lips. "Come here for a moment. Come sit with me."

The Queen led the way toward her throne, ascending the shallow steps and taking her seat. Rose followed behind, taking up the space on her father's throne. It was velvety and plush, and she melted into it as she stared at her mother.

"Rose, what do you know of Prince Andrew?"

Rose pursed her lips in thought. "He's the Prince of the Western Kingdom, isn't he?"

Her mother nodded. "He is. He's a fine young man if I do say so. And he would make a welcome addition to any Kingdom."

Rose felt a stab of unease at her mother's words. "Why are we talking about Prince Andrew, mother?"

"He's coming to the party tonight," she explained after a moment of silence.

"Forgive me, mother but...why should that matter to me?" Rose watched a series of emotions flicker on The Queen's face before she sighed and took her daughter's hands.

"Because tomorrow...you're going to marry him."