ALEXANDRIA
Putting the troubling remarks of the young girl out of my mind, I took to looking out the window as the litter marched slowly onwards towards the looming castle in the distance. I doubt that any member of the royal family other than myself ever strayed as far from it's high stone walls, rows of guards, and impenetrable defenses. Certainly not to go "play in the muck with the commoners" as I did. Leaning hovels and dark alleys gradually turned to neater brick shops and people with unpatched clothing. Of course, there were still pickpockets, slipping through the crowds, the yell of a baker and the thud of a rolling pin against a would-be bread thief. None of them were over fourteen, all of them from the slums. As I watched the parade of clean shop fronts pass my open window, I listened to the people, too. Loud shouts of men, advertising their wares or food, the chatter of women at the central wash station, mothers grabbing the hands of their children and hurrying out of my path with hushed voices. Sighing, I leaned back in my seat. Child-snatcher. Witch. Demon. I know what they call me. Bloody Princess was a new one, but not an unexpected title. In fact, I think I rather prefer it. At least it's not as explicit about my reputation as the others. My gaze and my mind drifted as we marched on, following the wide cobblestone thoroughfare as it wound to the great doors of the castle wall, past cleaner and neater shops that sold magic to cure ailments, to grow crops, to bless marriages. Magic to paint, magic to bring good luck. Shops of magic books, magic tools, magic weapons. My skin tingled with the saturation of the stuff in the air as people went about their business, caring perhaps a little less about my presence among them. They had better things to do than gossip- they were scholars, or nervous commoners looking to spend as little time as possible in this district. Finally we passed through the warding gate: a ring of inscriptions delineating the magic district from nobility, and controlling what was allowed in and out. I chuckled at it- to the people living on the inside, a thing like this was easy to manipulate, perhaps even break. I'd never seen it at full activation, but supposedly it could stop an army in it's tracks and outlast any siege. The soaring townhouses of the elites occupied this space- some empty as they spent their summers in their estates outside the city, some filled by those working in the courts, and a few boasted residence of members from the Six Gran Magik families. Those were some people that knew magic, inside and out, having borne it for generations. The heavy moan of the great iron doors of the wall drew me back to the present as I watched the guards scurry to present themselves. I wasn't surprised to see only a small turnout, with most electing to turn their heads or continue with crossing the courtyard, slinking into the stairwell to run up to the tops of the walls. I stepped out of the litter once we had passed through, dismissing my guards and mages though the castle was a fair ways ahead. Every guard in the castle knew better than to fight my requests; or perhaps, they didn't care enough to begin with. They all knew I was nothing inside these walls. I stood in the shadow of the massive doors near the guardhouse as I waited for the wagon bearing my newest additions to arrive, staring down at the damp dirt concealing all manner of worms and bugs, and little things that crawl. The clank of chain mail drew my attention to the left, where the Head Gate Guard was inclined forwards in a slight bow. I waved my hand dismissively with the flash of a smile as he straightened upright.
"I hardly think it's necessary to bow to me, Marco," I said, crossing my arms and leaning against the cool stone.
"To fail in bowing to a lady is perhaps the greatest offense of all," he replied, a playful smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. Marco had been the head of guards since I was a child, a tall man with a salt and pepper beard that was nearly always split in a grin. Though his shoulders were somewhat thin, he was well known for having the best swordsmanship of any non-mage, and even most of the mages to boot. It was he who taught me how to hold a sword and fire a crossbow when my father wasn't looking, and tell me stories through my bedroom door when I was locked inside. Five years ago, when I was fourteen, he was demoted to gate guard and replaced with a dull brute of a man, Tomas, who only knew how to swing an axe and grunt in reply to a question. Though I was unhappy with the decision and begged him to fight it, he always refused without giving me a reason, much to my dismay. I make up for it by visiting him often.
