Temple Of Chaos

The Tournament of Champions, Part One

Two years later...

"Is this too tight, Your Highness?" Cherche, one of the princess' handmaids, held locks of her golden hair between her fingers, pulling them into a braided crown at the back of her head, intertwined with blue silk ribbon.

Taking care not to shake her head, Sarah smiled and waved one hand dismissively. "Do not worry, Cherche. I'd much rather it be tight then fall out the second I move."

At her request, Cherche continued, sticking in small pins when necessary, concentrated on her work as Sarah watched herself become transformed before the mirror. It was one of her favorite times of day – when Cherche would style her hair after dressing her. She would watch as Cherche's masterful hands would bring her from bedhead to beauty, each day in a different way than the last. In a way, it made her feel like she had a sister – someone to talk to while they played with each other's hair. That day would be coming, however, quite soon, now that the Queen was with child once more. Sarah was as surprised as anyone else at the turn of events, especially at her mother's age, but it quickly turned to thrill at the prospect of a sibling, even at such an age difference.

"You shouldn't be moving much as it is," Cherche continued, pulling a pin from between her teeth to fix a bit of hair in place. "No one will be, save for the knights."

"True. But I have an important role this year." Sarah spoke with a hint of sarcasm, which Cherche smiled at discreetly before continuing her work. Every year, the Tournament of Champions was held for all the kingdom's people to see. Cornelia's knights would fight in the outer arena with the accepted weaponry – the first one to draw blood would win and advance to the next round until a grand champion was named. The grand champion would be awarded an advance placement in the Royal Guard, as well as invitation to all banquets until the next tournament – and yet these prices always seemed to come secondary to what might otherwise have been the most insignificant: the princess' favor, in the form of a decorated handkerchief. For nearly a generation, this prize had been unavailable, as there had been no Cornelian princess.

This year, Sarah finally came of age. When other young women would be making their debut into society and accepting kind words and gifts from suitors, Princess Sarah would be presenting herself as a ripe and beautiful royal flower – a woman all others her age would aspire to be. With her sixteenth year ahead of her, she was to present her favor to the grand champion of the tournament, whoever that may be. Despite it being a small role, with her part seeming insignificant compared to that of the champion, she was nearly trembling with energy. She had seen the tournament since she was old enough to attend, sitting beside her mother under the overhang, watching the knights clash against one another from dawn until dusk. Every year she watched in awe as the reigning champion knelt before the new one, armor gleaming in the orange light of the setting sun, and presented the great horned helm of the champion.

This year, she would finally be a part of it. No longer sitting on the sidelines, watching like a child. She was finally a woman, someone to be recognized beyond just her social status, and she would pour her very heart into the favor she would give to the winner.

"There." Cherche stepped back, laying down the brush on the vanity, smiling at her finished work. "What do you think?"

Raising her eyes, Sarah viewed her reflection, studying her hair. A few strands framed her face, but the rest was pulled back into a thick braid at either side of her head, twined with a ribbon that made her eyes look like gemstones. A silver circlet with a light blue jewel at the center rested just above her brow, settled seamlessly into her golden tresses, which fell in full curls down her back.

"Cherche," she breathed, a hand to her chest, "it's perfect." Rising from her seat, she turned and beamed at her handmaid. "Thank you so much."

Smiling, Cherche shook her head, bowing slightly. "It was my pleasure, Your Highness. You look beautiful."