The Princess Knight

The Meeting In The Chamber

Father had promised that this year's celebration would be grander than ever.

"The people need hope," he had said when I teased him about overdoing it.

I didn't argue.

Truthfully, I had actually looked forward to it

not for the gifts or the feasts, but because once it was over, everyone would finally see what I had known all along, that their faith was misplaced. That I was no chosen savior.

And after today… perhaps I would finally be free.

Standing by the tall window of my chamber, I looked out over the world I had known all my life. Beyond the castle gates, I could see the bustle of the outer square, the baker's smoke curling into the pale morning sky, the chatter of merchants, the distant shimmer of flags rising over the city walls.

Below, in the courtyard, the knights were rehearsing their ceremonial march. The rhythmic clatter of armor echoed faintly up to my window. I caught sight of Sir Edwin

my personal guard, barking orders at a few younger knights who clearly hadn't practiced enough. His voice carried through the air like thunder, as one of the squires tripped over his own boots. I almost laughed.

Everything seemed so perfect.

If only I had known that peace had less than a day…

I would have cherished it more.

That morning, my lady-in-waiting, Celine, helped me choose my gown for the evening procession. It was pale blue silk with threads of gold embroidery — a gift from the cathedral, she said. The cathedral had ever been the heart of our faith, the place that blessed every ruler of the three kingdoms.

By noon, the streets were overflowing with people. Musicians played lutes and flutes, jugglers tossed bright fruits in the air, and the scent of roasted almonds made my stomach twist with hunger. Children waved little flags painted with our family crest__ a silver hawk clutching a sun.

Amidst all this joy, an unease crept into my chest. I could not name it, yet it stirred deep,

Then, for but a moment, the sky dimmed, far too soon for sunset.

My heart gave a strange flutter, as though the very air had shifted.

That was the first sign.

But none of us understood it then.

---

In the Knight's War Chamber

At the head of the round table stood King Maeric, ruler of Aurelen, his expression stern. Around him gathered his finest knights, and with them, Father Martins __the Priest, and Brother Kaius, the cathedral's young catechist.

A great map sprawled before them, weighted by goblets and daggers, as voices clashed like steel.

"Send enough knights to the border village," said the king, striking the table with a firm hand. "It is time we put an end to these Viking raids."

His jaw tightened, anger slowly rising beneath his composed tone. "On the day of the Feast of Dawn, no less, such insolence." He said in spite

Before another word could be uttered, a knight burst through the doors, breathless. He composed at the sight of the me in the room, with a bow he said

"Your Majesty, a message, from the Houses of Verya and Seliah." He drew two folded parchments from his cloak and handed them to the king.

King Maeric broke the seals swiftly. His brows knit as his eyes scanned the letters.

"The Houses are under attack," he said gravely.

A tense silence aroused in the chamber.

There had been no conflict in years, not since the last tragedy… the night Queen Lyra, his beloved, was slain before her young daughter's eyes.

"Send two hundred knights to each of the houses, and double their numbers with footmen. I want the princesses brought here safely."

Maeric commanded, his voice cutting through the stillness. The knight-captain bowed deeply.

Brother Kaius spoke next, calm but firm. "Your Majesty, sending so many away will leave the castle exposed. Should the enemy turn its eye here, we will stand near defenceless."

"If the Houses fall, ours shall follow," king Maeric replied. "We swore to guard one another in unity. That vow must hold." He turned to Father Martins. "What say you, Reverend?" He asked

Father Martins, silent till now, stepped forward with a quiet nod.

"You are right, my king, the sister kingdoms must be guarded. But we must also guard the heart that beats for them. Let the noble lords of the council send their private armies to defend the capital. It will ease the burden while your knights ride."

King Maeric considered this, then nodded.

"So be it. Send the orders at once. Every noble banner is to dispatch men"

Then he turned to the knight's captain

"Sir Aldric," he called. "You'll ride with five hundred knights and another five hundred footmen. Split the host in two. You lead one half to the House of Verya, and send your second, Sir Roderic, to Seliah. Bring both princesses back to Aurelen at once. The feast cannot happen without them, and their safety comes before all." he said

"Go swiftly, and ride under the blessing of the Light." He added as Sir Aldric bowed low. "By your command, Your Majesty."

He said with full chest and strode out, his armor clinking in rhythm with the others who followed.

As the chamber emptied, only three remained — the King, the Priest, and the Catechist.

Father Martins spoke first, lowering his voice.

"Your Majesty, I fear the Viking raids are but a veil, a diversion meant to scatter our force and attention. Their timing is too precise, too deliberate. I believe the true danger lies closer to the crown."

King Maeric frowned. "You think someone means to strike the castle itself?"

"I do," said Father Martins gravely. "And if that is so, the Feast of Dawn may be the moment they choose."

Brother Kaius turned to the king, his eyes flicking toward the scorched letter.

"According to these messages, the attackers are not Vikings. And… the northmen have never allied with any but themselves. If they're being moved like pawns, someone powerful is pulling the strings."

At that, Father Martins and Brother Kaius exchanged a quiet, wordless glance.

It was brief, a flicker of knowing recognition,

They both understood something the king did not… or perhaps refused to.

The candlelight flickered. None spoke again.