damsel (not) in distress

chapter 4- rock me amadeus

-reader's pov

my wailing sobs of distress gradually start to fade, i take deep breaths into my lungs and wipe away the tears from my cheeks. my head lolls back against the wooden door and i stare straight ahead— at nothing in particular. yet my mind is working at a million miles per hour. seemingly impossible questions pop up into my head every second, all of them regarding this princess and the royal family which i now knew to be corrupt assholes.

"y/n!" my mother's stern voice suddenly snaps me out of my reverie, "what on earth are you doing?!"

i fix my gaze onto my mother, my brow suddenly furrowing in determination. i push myself off the cold floor and onto my feet. i stare at her for a couple moments, not speaking before barging past her aggressively and storming upstairs to my older brother's room.

my mother's miffed voice hurled vicious insults up at me; i ignored them all, slamming the door to my brother's room tight shut behind me.

seething, i turn to face the set of knight's armour which had been carelessly tossed onto the floor in a heap of shiny metal. i suddenly relax at the sight and blink down at it thoughtfully before kneeling down and pulling out certain pieces of the protective armour.

with quiet grunts of struggle i pull the certain pieces of knight attire onto my body, which consisted of: pauldrons on my shoulders, greaves on my shins, a breastplate across my chest and of course a helmet atop my head. the rest of my body had either skin showing or there were pieces of a red and white cloth, the traditional colours of the kingdom.

my movements were slightly clanky, yet if i were to wear the entire armour, it'd be much worse. i make my way to my own room with a little struggle before clutching my fingers around the knobs to my wardrobe and pulling the two ligneous doors open to reveal clothes, but more importantly: a sword.

the sunlight seeping in through the window caused the sharp, prolonged blade of the weapon to glimmer in its light. the handle was forged of a fine metal and covered in a thick layer of shagreen. reaching my hand forward, i clasp my fingers around the sturdy hilt and i retrieve the weapon from the deep depths of my wardrobe.

with a sturdy grip of my sword, i stare down at the weapon in my hands. my eyes squint in curiosity, the look of determination within them never once dimming.

one thing was for sure.

i was gonna find that princess.