The Princess and The Dragon

Prologue - Vow

I was looking out of my bedroom window at the candidate trials taking place in the city training grounds. How magnificent it was, to be princess, and yet not allowed to witness the choosing of the warriors that would soon choose their own dragons to compete in the annual race with. What I would have given not to be in the royal family. I would teach even the great Captain Cirimgor a thing or two about fighting.

My parents were ridiculously controlling. They covered my naturally tan skin in layers of pink and white silk and lace corset dresses, despite the fact that I detested pink. They hid my wild, dark hair in a ridiculous contraption attached to my dress I could only describe as a hood.

All I ever wanted was to enter the dragon race. Ever since I was a little girl, I would stand by my window and yearn to choose my own dragon, to bond with it, to receive the glory of winning the ultimate race with it. But I was a princess, and the only thing princesses were good for was sipping tea and sharing idle gossip with the daughters of all the other aristocrats in the city. I hated it. I hated them. They would cackle about some peasant girl, about her hair or about some skin disorder she suffers from, or giggle over some lord-to-be and his muscles and his hair and "oh! His eyes when he looks at you! They sparkle like the setting sun!"

I was pulled from my thoughts as I heard knocks on my bedroom door.

"Come in," I called with a sickly soft voice, the kind of voice I was trained to use since I was a child.

Randa, my handmaiden, entered, carrying fresh sheets.

"Good morning, princess," she said, "You had a good night's rest, I hope?"

"What do you think?" I asked drily, using my regular voice. She was the only person in the world that I trusted. She had been my only real friend since we were both children. Her mother used to care for me, but when she passed away, I personally requested that Randa stay on in the palace.

She chuckled at my bitter tone, and said, "Don't worry, some day you'll be queen, and you might be able to pass a law that will allow you to participate."

"'Some day' is another way of saying 'never'," I sighed. "I'm going to try to get past Snobson to go watch the trials."

"Good luck, princess, you know how he is," she said, chuckling again.

Hobson was the palace butler, but I called him Snobson because he always walked with his nose in the air, and his fingers barely ever touched anything: if they did, it was to wipe dust off a window-sill and show it to a servant, or to twirl around in an annoying gesture when bowing to some or other lord or lady.

My bedroom was on the fourth floor, so in the time it took me to descend all the stairs, I reflected on whether I would sit by and let the seventeenth dragon race since my birth pass, or whether I would think of something to participate.

I decided on the latter.

But how could I get past my parents, the palace guards, the city guards and Captain Cirimgor unnoticed? There was no way I would be able to convince my parents to allow me to race: I had been trying for the last thirteen years, since I was old enough to comprehend the whole concept of the race. They had hoped that I would grow out of it, but I never did.

"Princess Allania, this is no time for you to be wandering about in your night gown."

I stiffened with annoyance at the pronunciation of perfect vowels, and a whistle in every s and t. I turned around and faced Hobson, who looked at me over his long nose.

"Greetings, Snobson," I said in my sickly sweet voice, "Your nose is as high as ever, I see."

"A butler of the royal family must act like a butler of the royal family," he answered, "Now, where do you think you're going, my lady?"

"Out," I replied, "I need fresh air."

"There is plenty of fresh air in the palace gardens, if you wish for me to bring you tea," he said.

"No need," I replied, "I - uh - want to reflect on some things. By myself. In private."

"You do not honestly expect a man of my stature to fall for such an excuse, do you, milady?" he said, adjusting the monocle on his left eye smartly. "You have been trying to get out of the grounds for over ten years now."

"Twenty times your age, I'm guessing," I snapped, dropping my sweet voice, "Only someone as old as you can be as boring."

"Though I am flattered, as always, by your charm, I must ask you to return to your chambers. It is not safe for you to roam the grounds unsupervised," he said, "I shall send breakfast for you. Any requests?"

"A Sucker pancake with some Kiss-My-Backside sauce," I grumbled, turning around and heading up the staircase.

"Oh! Such language!" he cried from behind me, his voice dripping with drama, "I shall have to inform the queen!"

"Inform everyone, for all I care. Maybe I'll get banished and I'll finally be free of this hell-house," I called back.

Not safe, I thought to myself, snorting with derision. If only they knew how many hours I had spent in my life, training in the palace armoury.

I snuck out of my chambers every night to train for two hours and, without boasting, I knew that I was an excellent fighter. A pair of daggers was my best weapon: it left room for great agility, instead of relying on raw power like most weapons did.

As I ascended the stairs back to my room, I made a promise to myself: this year, I would find some way to disguise myself. I would make it through the trials. I would choose my own dragon, and it would be a magnificent dragon unlike any other. I would enter the race, and I would win it, receiving all the glory, and the option of passing a law that would equalise women with men.

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A/N: I know it's a pretty sucky title, but if you're familiar with my work, you'll know that I'm really not good at naming my stories. I've already planned out the entire plot so, as I have it planned, I'll be uploading one chapter every day.

If you like it so far, vote please. If you have anything to say, you can comment. XD