A Princess's Sword

Chapter 8

The prince's horse, Leiyc

The prince rode at a brisk pace back to his kingdom. The picture of the princess's retreating back was stamped in his mind. There was no doubt she was beautiful, and she was obviously skilled in sword fighting and archery. But there was something about her that was different, besides her ability with weapons. Maybe it was the way confidence wrapped itself around her or the way she carried herself. He chided himself for thinking about the princess. He looked up and there was the imposing fortress that he called home. He dismounted; it had been a long ride.

Handing the reins to a page standing nearby, he scanned the walls. Not seeing the person he was looking for, he squared his shoulders and entered the castle. The damp air inside the stone palace was a sudden change from the sun-drenched autumn air outside. Climbing the steps, he thought about how to tell his father that he had been beaten. Two guards opened the door to the king's throne without a word. The king looked up as his son entered, there were several people surrounding him.

His booming voice filled the room. "Son, have you succeeded in getting a bride?

"No, Father."

"And why is that? Did the king not think you worthy of his daughter? Or is there another reason?" He inquired.

"I was supposed to win a sword fight," replied the prince. He glanced at the ground in embarrassment at having to tell his story to the people who were with his father.

"Hmm, well, I suppose that makes sense, but what happened? You are an accomplished swordsman."

"Nevertheless, I lost. My only excuse is that this was my first time facing a lady."'

"A lady!" the king jumped from his throne. "You fought a lady! But who?"

"I fought the princess," answered the prince in a tired voice.

"I heard rumors that she was gifted with a sword, but I thought they were just, well, rumors. Remarkable! It really is," the monarch paced as he rambled, "And she won! She must be quick with her sword to beat you, or did you let her win? No, that is not likely, you do love winning. Ah, but you must be quite worn out, and here I am going on and on. I shall see you tomorrow, so now go get some rest." The king dismissed his son with a wave of his hand and turned back to the men gathered around him.

۩۩۩

The rain sounded on the roof of my room. If there was anything I hated, it was rainy days. I could not shoot my bow, sword fight, or throw daggers. The only things I could do were sew or take etiquette lessons from Mother, so I decided to sew. There was a tapestry in my room that needed mending, and so I began repairing it. It was simple to fix and within a half an hour I had it done. Now, what should I do?

My eyes fastened on my bookcase, and I walked over to it. On the lower shelves, it showed all the books Mother had given to me about manners and proper phrases for a lady. None of them had been read. My gaze traveled to the higher and saw the books that had been gifts from Father. Most were about dragons, swords, daggers, and bows. I selected the only one of Father's books that I had not read.

I settled into a chair to read it and was soon engrossed in the book. It was about dragon myths and legends. Some were true, some were not, and some of them had a scrap of truth in them. The one story that fascinated me the most was a true tale. It was about a dragon, three hundred years previous who had killed the king of Alderia and his son who sought revenge. I read each page eagerly and sighed when I had finished.

Bored once more, I decided to go on a walk. How I missed my horse at these times! I slung my bow over my shoulder and headed out of the castle. As I passed the men guarding the gate, they stopped me.