Kiss Me If You Can

CHAPTER 2

The Guard changes outside of my outer door, and I recognize the sound of my favorite man's laugh as he converses with the other Guardsmen. The Captain of my Guards has always been my most prized and loyal, and I have to shove away more thoughts of compromise before my mind changes. I will not suffer at the hands of the king of Whales as the other Queens had. I can help no one if I am dead.

I delay any further action until a hand maid comes to help me get dressed for bed, as corsets are really quite troublesome to unlace by yourself. Once she left, I busy myself by gathering supplies and scrubbing my face clean of makeup while waiting for night to fall heavily, all the while trying to ignore the painful twists of nervousness and indecision in my stomach. I wait a bit longer after the stars appear, until I am sure most of the castle is asleep before I get to work.

I rummage around my spacious wardrobe, not at all unlike the King's, until I find what I am looking for: the trousers that I own that are split down the middle like what a man would wear, and the tall, knee high boots that I keep for riding. I strip myself of the fresh satin nightgown, and proceed to pull on the trousers. I then take a long strip of bandage from one of my wardrobe drawers, and hold one end while wrapping it around my chest, tight enough to throb painfully. Once it is secured with a knot, I then pull on my father's shirt, lacing up the collar so it is tight enough so no one can see down the front of it, and loosely tuck it into my drawers. The black leather of my boots is soft and well worn as I slip the familiar footwear on, sitting on a decorated stool for assistance. I go to my bed, and run a hand longingly over the soft sheets. I wish I could just stay here and be safe. I kneel, and reach underneath, until my hand bumps a solid object. I grab it firmly, and pull it towards me and into the firelight.

I hold a brilliantly crafted sword, light enough for my strength and sharp enough to pierce leather. This, was one of the few truly good things to come from my father. The weapon was not a gift from him, no, but he allowed me to keep it when it was given to me. He allowed me to be trained to use a sword as skillfully as my guardsmen, though nearly no one knows of my capabilities. A princess should not know how to defend herself, and she should never look towards a weapon with the intent to touch it, lest she cut herself on the sharp blade. My sword gleams in the light cast upon it's blade, as I lift it slightly out of it's thick leather sheath.

I push to my feet and secure the weapon around my waist, tying it securely to the belt of the trousers. I cross the room to my vanity, and look in the mirror, looking myself over. It will certainly require some getting used to. A frown meets my lips as I raise a hand up to touch my hair. It needs to go if I am going to make a successful disguise. I regretfully remove the pins from my long brown locks, watching as it coils down my back to my waist in waves that shimmer in the light of the flames. My hair has always been beautiful, and it has never been touched by the harsh steel of a blade or shears. I've never been one for much vanity, but I do admire my hair. I stare at the reflection of the dark chocolate tousled extensions, before I reach up to gather all of it over one shoulder.

I quietly draw the blade from it's sheath, the silver metal shining with a harsh and deadly sort of beauty. I sigh, and bite my lip against the rolling twist in my gut, slowly raising it to the gathered hair. I close my eyes tightly, as if it will help, and I hold my breath. With much more effort than I expected, I saw the hair off just above my shoulders. After a few snags and painful tugs at my scalp, the last bit of unevenly cut hair falls to my feet. I stare at it a moment, breathing out the air that I trapped in my lungs.

When I find the courage to look in the mirror again, a soft faced boy looks back at me. I am startled by the change, and breathe out a shaky breath. Though the hazel eyes and full lips are the same, my cheekbones seem to be less noticeable with the shoulder length hair. I take a moment to look myself over again, making sure that the shirt is loose enough to hide my chest, and that my expressions don't seem too feminine.

I sheath my sword again at my side, and return to my wardrobe, searching for something useful. I find a small strap of leather in one of the drawers, and tie the two ends into a knot. I have seen many men with longer hair tie it back at the nape of their neck to keep it out of their way, as many of my Guards do this, and I copy the hairstyle, thinking that it might make me blend in more. I know that I should have cut it much shorter, but I can't bring myself to see off anymore of my once lovely locks. Perhaps if I can get far enough away from here, I will no longer have to hide that I am a woman, and can grow my hair back out longer again. With this hope in mind, I wrap the leather strip around the stub of hair at my neck, then turn my face from side to side in the looking glass. That looks a little more convincing. In this realm, creating a glamor isn't impossible, but is hard to do. My bloodlines help immensely with my abilities, though, as my mother is the same way. We have an easier time bending people to our will and convincing others of things, even if they are untrue. Hopefully, convincing everyone around me that I am a boy will be as easy as the other things.

A silver locket catches the firelight and glints at my chest, drawing my attention. I reach to touch the necklace which reminded me of my mother. This was hers, as a child, and her mother's before that. It has been in the family for as long as I can tell, and now it has to go. I sigh, and regretfully unclasp the chain from around my neck. I hold it up, studying the pretty little object for a moment, deciding what to do with it. I know that I should leave it, but emotion overrides rationalization, and I drop the precious locket into the pocket of my breaches. I then bend to scoop up all of my hacked hair, and go toss it into the fire. I watch ruefully as the long tendrils are quickly consumed by the flames, forever destroyed.

Shaking my head at the tragedy, I force myself away from the fireplace and walk back to my bed, retrieving a sack of coins from my bedside dresser. I weigh the silver in my hand thoughtfully. This should be enough to purchase whatever I will need, for a while, anyway. It may even be enough to get me far away to starting a new life, unscathed by royal blood lines and greed. I tuck the satin bag into the pocket of my breaches, as well, my fingers brushing the metal chain of the locket.

More regret tangles into knots of snakes in my belly, and I feel sickness roll through me. Maybe I should just wait, and try to make a compromise with father. Perhaps I should just face the fate that awaits me here. I should wait for another night, when I feel better... No. I know what I have to do. I refuse to let the better, smarter part of me talk the other half out of it. I know that if I do not do this now, that I will never do it. This is for me and my safety, and I mustn't think of anyone else or their reactions to my leaving. With a new confidence, I lean over the soft mattress, and pull until the sheets come off of it.

I go to my window with the fabric in hand, and push the glass open. I know that no Guards are posted down below, as the ground Guard's shift does not start for another hour or so. They would currently be in the mess hall, eating their late meal and preparing for their nightly duty. I secure the knots that I had tied in between sheets and blankets, and throw the finished product out into the night. I go back and crouch at one of the legs of the bed, where my thrifty escape rope is tied, and pull it tightly to make sure it won't come undone mid-climb.

The length of the knotted material reaches down to a few feet off of the ground, and I peer down at the bottom of it as it sways slightly in the breeze. With a final, deep breath for confidence, I lower myself out of the window, and start my slow descent to the ground. After much self-coaxing and mental soothing, I finally reach the end of the linens. I look down at the dust below, and I take another deep breath, preparing myself for the final jump down. I count to three, and let go.

When my feet hit the dirt, I land cleanly, using my hands to steady my weight on my ankles. I hadn't sounded as quietly as hoped, but I hear no one approach to check on the noise. I push myself up from the ground, and crane my neck back, closing my eyes as I sigh in relief. I pause to look up at the stars above me, taking a deep breath, now knowing that I can breathe easier. The air smells like crisp freedom, and I know that it is close enough for me to finally reach. I whisper a prayer of thanks to God above, and start off at a sprint in the direction opposite of the castle wall.

I am finally free.