It was a freezing day of winter but everyone in the royal palace couldn't care less of the cold weather. Not taken aback by the chilly breeze of air, everybody was rather looking fired up.
It was a busy day. Well, it has always been this way inside the palace but in any case, it was noisier than usual. All the servants seem like buzzing bees and ants in a colony running to and fro.
"Are the curtains of the right color?"
"What flowers did her majesty picked?"
"Head Chef, the wines from Vairnier Distillery is coming today."
"Move the next cart!"
The servants were beaming with smiles as if their workloads were some kind of leisure and amusement. The atmosphere was brimming of enthusiastic energy for in the upcoming spring, the Kingdom will soon host a grand banquet for Princess Asherah, the pride of Adalfarus Kingdom.
Clack, clack.
"Ho…"
A carriage that was about to pass the towering gates of the palace was stopped by lines of horses and carts filled with goods up-front.
The knight in charge of checking the carts caught eyes of the insignia of the carriage and frantically runs to tell the deputy butler that 'he' arrived.
Creak.
"Hmm…today sure is hectic."
A man in thick, elegant white cloak emerges from the familiar carriage. The old butler dashed to welcome him.
"Greetings to the young lord of house Arius!"
The man, under the falling snow, smiled. "Ah, deputy butler Orson..."
"I didn't know you would come today, sire. If I had known, we could have prepared you a better route. My deepest apologies for this old man's ignorance," the butler bows anxiously.
"No need to be so worked up, Orson. Besides, it was of my fault for coming all the way without sending a prior word."
"…not at all, lord Skylark."
Marquis Skylark Quinlan Arius, a young man of distinguished stature and prowess in wielding weapons. He took the title of being the youngest Marquis in the empire after taking over the Arius household. His dark purple hair and light purple eyes were radiant in the whiteness of snow.
"I didn't think the main gate would be congested...guess I just have to walk by foot right from here."
The butler jolted at his words and spoke, "That won't be necessary, my lord! I shall have the carts be moved all at once! We can't afford to trouble you more than we already had."
"…very well, thank you, Orson."
The butler hastily directed the knights to move the carts right away.
"I commend you for your hard work. Keep it up."
"I shall take it to heart, sire."
The old butler bows once again as the young lord went his way inside the palace.
'Such a nice, young noble.'
----------------
Splash.
Knock, knock.
"Your highness…"
"Come in."
I got off from the tub and pulled the satin robe from the hook.
"We will dress you now, Princess. What would you like to wear?"
I tilted my head towards Veneza and the two servants holding thick winter dresses.
'I don't feel like wearing those heavy dresses today...'
"…Princess?"
"I would like something comfortable, Ven."
She look at me, "…to the sparring arena, your highness?"
"Yes."
Without further ado, Ven understood what I meant about 'something comfortable'.
"Yes Princess. I shall also have the royal guard prepare the sparring arena."
"Great, thanks."
She rushes outside to quickly oblige.
Veneza. She has been my personal attendant since I was five. Ven was like a big sister to me. She's one of the very few people I put my trust on.
Yes, 'few'. If anything, I would rather have few trustworthy people by my side than a number of snakes lurking around, waiting for the perfect chance to bite.
"…"
The servants tied my golden hair in a high ponytail. I caught glimpse of the long elegant box with a golden butterfly crest, our kingdom's emblem, rested on the top of the drawer. Now that I think about it,
'Should I make use of it?'
I walk towards the box and opened it.
Creak.
'Wow…it's incredible.'
I lifted the sword out from the box. It is a double-edged sword forged from Cerulean ore with a golden butterfly symbol engraved in its ricasso. The grip of the sword perfectly fits my clutches.
I gaze at the shiny blade reflecting back my blue green eyes. It was an advance gift from Father for my upcoming seventeenth birthday. In normal circumstance, I should have asked for crowns and jewels but instead, I ask for a sword.
"Princess, the arena is ready."
"Alright, let's head out."
Creak, bam.
-------------------
"Enter her royal highness, Princess Asherah Adalfarus!"
The knights in the arena bow in unison.
I smiled.
"Princess Asherah, we're all set."
Royal guard Lucian approached us. He was a fair-complexioned man in his 20's with a deep blue hair.
I unsheathed the sword in my hand.
I heard Lucian let out a weak gasp. "…a real sword, your highness?"
"Yes."
That's right. Father allowed me to study swordsmanship in the condition that, not until my coming-of-age, he would not allow me to get my hands on a real sword.
Clang, clang.
I swung the sword with ease and sliced the dummies made for training, one after another. The sword feels naturally light in my hand.
'…this feels great.'
Those nobles chained in the past, why do they stop women from learning something they can use to protect themselves?
Father must have thought otherwise. He was a man of equal. He has faith in extraordinary capabilities of women, to be a knight at that.
"…"
But of course, this action of the King was deeply opposed by some aristocratic nobles. They implicitly criticize the royal family for deviating from the hundred year's old imperial tradition that a lady, must not be allowed to be a knightess.
Moreover, a princess' only value is to be sold to political engagement for expansion of powers.
"…only then that a princess' purpose is served, huh?"
'But I can't accept it.'
'I refuse to be a decoration just to please the eyes.'
I wasn't born a frail princess, bound to be a damsel in distress.
"…"
"…what's with the frown?"
I was spacing out when a voice whispered to my ears from behind.
Shing!
I jolted away to my surprise and pointed the sword at his throat.
"Whoa! Princess! Take it easy!" He lifted his hands in a surrendering position.
"…"
He removes the hood of his white cloak, revealing his lustrous, dark purple hair.
"Skylark!"
A smile slipped from his lips. "Good morning, your highness."