Of all the things I've had in this life, I have only ever appreciated two things: being born and having a loving family. As much as I hate to admit it, living as a princess isn't quite what everyone imagines it to be. I dress however I like, I talk however I want, and nobody scolds or beats me for it.
Naturally, I wake up before my maid and get myself ready before they arrive. Why? Because I find it uncomfortable for people to do things for me when all my life I did everything myself. Living as a girl who had to fight for anything she wanted, having things served without lifting a finger makes me feel awful. It's like when you tell someone to stop a particular habit that has become one with them.
This morning was no different. I rose with the first light of dawn, the soft glow filtering through the heavy curtains of my room. The birds outside were just beginning their morning songs, and the castle was still and silent. I slipped out of bed and moved through my morning routine with the ease of long practice. I dressed in simple trousers and a tunic, comfortable clothes that allowed for freedom of movement, and bound my hair in a tight braid. By the time the maids arrived, I was already dressed and ready for the day.
"Princess Amelia, I have had enough of this behavior. Since you turned five, you became a totally different person. Please this is unbecoming of a member of the Royal family to be doing such menial works meant for the maids," the head maid began nagging me as she entered the room, her arms full of the day's gowns.
"Your bed is always made, your room is always clean, you take care of your skin and hair, you wash up, and your dressing is the reverse of royalty. You are no boy to be wearing pants. Your Highness would you like to change your style this morning? The gown I picked would me most suited for your day, " she continued, listing my supposed misdeeds, later trying to convince me to wear a dress. I come from a modern world, nobody will force me to wear gowns especially ones with corsets. This conversation has to end.
I just laughed at her comments and shrugged. "I don't know," I replied nonchalantly.
The maids, unable to deter me from my chosen path, escorted me to the lobby where I saw that King Arthur, my father, was entertaining a guest.
"Greetings, Your Majesty," I greeted and curtsied, my voice respectful but my eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Count Henry, it's quite a lovely morning, isn't it?" I greeted the guest with a warm smile.
"Amelia, you are too formal with your father," the king complained, a frown marring his handsome features.
"Might I remind you that you are entertaining a guest? In front of officials, you are who?" I asked, waiting for his reply.
"The king," he answered, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips.
"And in front of family without the presence of an official, you are who?" I prompted.
"Your father," he replied, a full smile now breaking through.
"Now you know what to do," I concluded, taking a seat beside him.
A very soft laugh was heard at the end of the room. It was my mother, Queen Flora. She looked as gracious as ever.
" Wow! Look at my Amelia showing off her Royal blood. I'm glad you too can put your father in place", she commended.
" Greetings to you too, Your Majesty ", I stood up to greet.
Count Henry looked surprised at my behavior, but as the princess of Luretta, I maintained my brightest smile. I watched the game they were playing, which was chess. The rules were no different, but the pieces were very precise. It looked more like a battlefield than a game of chess.
Although my father is the king, he seems to lack the needed experience for such a game. As I observed their moves, I couldn't help but offer some advice.
"I would advise you not to move that piece. Although this is a soldier, sending him into enemy territory is too risky. Pick someone with a better advantage in long-distance attacks. Like this piece—the mage (bishop)—can just..." I got so caught up in my explanation that I forgot it was the king and the count playing the game.
"You seem to be knowledgeable about the battlefield," Count Henry commented. That was when I realized that the king, the queen, the count, the maids, and the soldiers were all staring at me. They all shared concerns about my currently behavior. I gave an awkward laugh.
"I apologize for interrupting your game," I said, trying to backtrack.
"Your Majesty, would you please give me the opportunity to play with Her Highness?" Count Henry asked my father. This is an upfront challenge.
I would have gladly refused this challenge, but to save face for acting all-knowing, I had to accept.
The game started out normal, with both of us making careful, calculated moves. But soon, the count started throwing attacks from different angles, testing my strategy and resolve. This was the kind of challenge I loved in games. The urge and determination to beat my opponent soared high.
In the end, the game ended in a stalemate—not the kind of result I fancied, but I had to deal with it anyways.
"Your Highness, may I ask your age?" the count asked, clearly impressed.
"I am five years and four months this week. Is there a problem?" I asked, tilting my head in curiosity.
"No, I'm just surprised that you are this young but very talented," he replied.
"You flatter me. It was just mere luck," I said, bowing my head slightly. It was customary for noble ladies to avoid being proud. But inside, I was proud—proud that I had not lost my touch in the past five years.