The Princess Knight

Order Of Twelve

The Paladin Knights, known across the kingdoms as the Sanctum Knights or the Order of Twelve, were beings of near mythic reverence. So noble and pure they were believed to be chosen by God Himself. Their presence alone was enough to bend even the proudest knee__commoners bowed instinctively, and nobles lowered their gaze in respect.

They were not ordinary warriors. They were the Church's elite champions__defenders of faith, demons' greatest fear, and the most loyal companions of the divine order. It was said that when a Sanctum Knight marched to war, evil trembled before the sound of their steps.

The Order consisted of twelve, each, representing a divine relic__ An ancient artifacts safeguarded by the Cathedral through the centuries. Only those deemed worthy were granted one, binding them to sacred duty as living vessels of divine power.

The Paladin Knights were rare even to kings and queens__so rare that some might live their entire lives without ever meeting or even seeing one. The Paladins only appeared in times of great darkness, when war rose against good itself. They were the Lord's soldiers, chosen and anointed, their loyalty sworn not to any crown or mortal command, but to the Church and the greater good.

They lived by a vow that severed all earthly attachment__a life of celibacy, purity, and sacrifice. They renounced wealth, power, and the embrace of women, believing that a heart untouched by worldly desire could carry divine will untainted. To be a Paladin was to cease belonging to oneself__it was to belong entirely to God.

And that brings me to the source of my deepest confusion.

Why on earth was there a Paladin that night in the cave?

We were not at war. There had been no call to arms. In fact, that day was meant to be my coronation__ A peaceful, radiant ceremony. And even though I had indeed been attacked by a demon, a single creature of darkness hardly warranted the presence of a Sanctum Knight.

But then I remembered my father's expression that day__how troubled he looked when he urged me to find the priest and catechist. My heart stilled.

Could there truly have been a greater threat that day?

Or… was everything I saw merely a dream?

---

This morning I woke up with a piercing headache and a thousand unanswered questions, the sound of chant and prayers that echoed from a distant hall woke me up, and as i looked around it turned out I wasn't in my royal chamber, I was in the cathedral.

That alone was strange__this had never happened before. And I learned, I had not simply fallen asleep. I had actually been unconscious… for the past two days__two whole days__So much for being the 'powerful heiress.' I couldn't even withstand one demon's torment, and yet the people expected me to cast them all out someday.

Father Amos, the Canon of the cathedral__keeper of records, scriptures, and sacred relics, Was also a skilled physician. He had tended to me countless times, ever Since i was a child whenever I fell ill or, as they liked to say, "suffered an evil attack."

Father Amos, an old man of quiet wisdom and sharp wit, was more than just a healer to me, he was a friend. He often told me the things others wouldn't dare to say, whispering the dangerous secrets of the kingdom and the cathedral alike. My father never truly distrusted him, yet he always grew uneasy when we spent time together, because I never left without a new question on my lips or a truth he'd rather I didn't know.

It was he who tended to me when I awoke__his wrinkled hands steady as ever, his tone calm though his eyes betrayed concern. He told me my ribs were fracturedand and that the slimy fluid from the demon's body was more than just filth, it was poison. A lingering torment meant to punish those who dared survive its attack. The curse, he warned, would last thirty days. And here I was, fated to endure twenty eight more.

---

Now, standing in the Cathedral's Knight Tower, I watched young the knights train in rhythmic precision. The clang of steel against steel echoed through the wide court yard. I drew in a slow deep breath, letting the cool wind sweep through me, carrying away the weight of my thoughts.

The cathedral had always been like a second home to me, a place i spent most of my time if i wasnt in the castle__its scent of incense and stone felt familiar. But this tower... this was new. I had never been allowed this deep in the cathedral before. Normally, I stayed within the chapels, the archives, the prayer halls. Yet today, they had granted me freedom to walk where I pleased, as thou i live here__Something told me I would be staying here for a while.

Even Father Amos, who usually confided everything, had hesitated earlier. He told me only that the Three Kingdoms were under attack that day, and that my father was okey. But I could tell he wasn't telling me everything.

Time moved slowly as I stood at the tall tower, staring out at the horizon. A deep ache settled in my chest, a longing I couldn't name. Perhaps it was worry—for my father, for my cousins, for my governess who had cared for me in my mother's stead, Or... for Victoria.

I couldn't help but wonder—had she been searching for me through the chaos of the attack, or was she running for her life?

I hoped she was running. I prayed she was safe.

I prayed they all were. The thought brought tears to my eyes, but I blinked the tears away before they could fall.

"Your Highness," a calm, familiar voice said behind me.

I turned sharply.

It was His Lordship, Bishop Caelum, the bishop of the diocese.

He approached slowly, hands clasped neatly behind his back, wearing the simple robes he preferred when not presiding over mass. His presence radiated serenity and quiet authority. Every step he took was gracefully and measured.