Shaya

Chapter 1 - Once upon a time...

Once upon a time there were two twins, Shaya and Gregory. Their father, King Roland, died two weeks before their birth during a battle against King Xavier. Their mother, Queen Farrah, died giving birth to them. They owned the reign, but the Regent reigned instead of them, because they were only little children.

Shaya wasn't exactly the perfect princess: she often played with her brother with wooden swords, rode ponies, played games with the servitude pretending to be a knight fighting against the Wicked Witch. Sometimes, she was the witch and Gregory was the brave knight. But Gregory never wanted to play the evil wizard. He was a good kid, most of the time playing with puppies, reading books the rest of it. He loved his sister, more than his affectionate hugs could express. He took care of her. He was the man of the castle, the future king, when he would reach the proper age. He had to be a good boy. Now he was just five, but he would soon have to become a real man. He knew it. That was what their tutor, the Regent, had told him. He was an adult, he had to be right. Like when he said to him that his sister shouldn't behave that way: she was a princess, she had to be regal, elegant, mannered. She shouldn't go around with that "ridiculous wooden sword" secured to her side by an old rope, she shouldn't waste her time riding that "useless little horse", or climbing the old oak, or chasing lizards in the Royal Gardens. "Convince her that she is a female, Prince Gregory. I'm begging you. She doesn't listen to me!", he said. And Gregory tried. He tried many times. But every time Shaya smiled at him and invited him to play, holding her "ridiculous wooden sword" just like a real knight. She challenged him with her usual, screamed: "En garde!", and he could do nothing but take his own sword and cross it with hers. None of them never won. None of them would have never let the other lose.
It was on their sixth birthday that it happened. Shaya was in her bedroom trying to undo the knots of her dress' laces, that was too tight even for breathing. But they were on her back, and she couldn't reach them. If she had called a servant, she would have never helped her, saying that she was a princess and that that dress was beautiful and she was lucky and bla bla bla. Let alone the Regent. That man, she hated him, since the very first time she had met him. He was evil, she knew it. He had never done anything wrong, that was true, but that look in his eyes, the way he squeezed his hands looking at the empty throne, the way he eyed her, so irately... he was evil. But none had ever believed her, neither her brother. He just couldn't see it, like when he didn't see her sword and she jabbed him, every time that he opened his guard to block her when she feinted, well knowing what he would have done. He was predictable. And ingenuous. And the Regent knew it. And he knew that she knew. For this he eyed her that way, and she did the same. But now he had crossed the line. As birthday gift, he had given her that stupid pink dress, and to her brother a real sword, that he could use when he grew up. She was happy for him, but angry with the tutor. He knew that a sword was the thing she most wanted! He had been so mean! So now she needed to take off that horrible pink dress and wear her boyish clothes, take her sword and hit hard something. But she just couldn't undo those knots. She needed help. Because of this she went to her brother's chamber. And she saw him.
The Regent was holding a blade in his right hand. But it wasn't his sword. It was her brother's sword, all gold and steel and rubies. A king's sword. And that weasel was holding it. And it was blooded, on the edge. Whose was that blood? And why was he watching her that way? He looked crazy, wide eyes, white face, trembling hands. And then he was on her, his lurid hand on her mouth, his knee on her chest to hold her still on the ground. The sword was barely touching her throat.
" Shush, stay silent, Princess. I have to tell you a story..." he murmured, crazy face, sweated. But he wasn't wounded. Whose was that blood? Shaya tried to move, but the man was too heavy on her, she could barely breath. He laughed insanely, rolling his enormous eyes. " Once upon a time, there was a little, mad, envy princess, who killed her brother with the sword she desired so much..."
Shaya couldn't believe her ears. She just couldn't accept those words. Killed? Her brother was surely downstairs, in the library, picking some sentences to quote for tonight's speech..." So she was executed, and the broken, pained Regent had to take the throne..." he laughed again, eyes wide open, like hers. She didn't believe him. Everything he said was senseless. He was just gone mad.
But that blood...
He punched her in the face. She felt the taste of blood in her mouth. Her cheek hurt like never in her life and, when she opened her eyes, she saw him. Gregory was laying on the floor, cornered by blood, a hand stretched towards the door. Towards her. Her sight trembled, then fogged, and tears slid down her cheeks on the cold floor. Someone screamed, someone came, heavy, metallic steps. Someone took the sword she was holding. But, wait, she wasn't holding anything... Strong hand raised her from the ground, and then was only chaos, they moving, she screaming.