She's the Bodyguard

Isabelle

"Izzy wake up!" a loud shout came outside the modest bedroom. The bedroom, a simple empty room, had only the necessities of a few clothes, a small bed, and an empty desk and chair that had only been used to hold worn clothing when Izzy was too lazy to hang them.

"Coming!" Izzy yelled, getting up from her bed. She quickly grabbed her old trousers and a beaten up tunic that had been worn by many people over a thousand times before it had reached her. The king believed in modesty and humility, leaving her with second-handed men's clothing, but Izzy never minded. It was an honor to serve her king and her kingdom and it only helped her stay in character - to be the king's soldier and one day his son's bodyguard.

Izzy was glad to wear men's clothing as they were more comfortable than the corset dresses she saw ladies wear. Their stomachs were squeezed to death, giving them barely enough oxygen, and their tiny breasts were pushed up so it looked like their breasts were several sizes larger. Izzy would always look at them and shiver at the thought of being so constraint.

Izzy grabbed the small dagger she always carried and shoved it in the small space of her leather boots. She cursed at her tardiness as she bundled her long brown hair into a messy bun and ran out the door.

The king ordered Izzy to cut her hair, but she always got away with it. Her long hair looked awkward in the men's clothing but everyone who knew her quickly adapted to her boyish looks. It was her hair that she treasured the most. People who knew her mother would always compliment just how similar her hair was to hers. It was the only thing she had left of her mother's.

Izzy sometimes dreamt of her parents but she knew they were just a figment of her imagination. She had been told that her mother passed away giving birth and her father remained unknown. She never had the courage to ask more about her parents. It would never bring them back and would only allow her to feel the pain and longing for the parents she knew she could never have.

"Izzy!" the voice yelled again. Timothy had a bad habit of yelling obnoxiously in the morning, which usually woke up at least half the servant's quarters with his loud, booming voice.

"Yes, Timothy. I'm here," Izzy puffed as she tried to compose herself. If Timothy knew she woke up late then she would be given a good punishment for sure. Although Timothy was only three years older than Izzy, he was still considered to be top ranked amongst the soldiers of the king's army. He was also Izzy's closest friend at the castle, which wasn't saying much as he was one of the three people she talked to. Most of her time was spent training and on patrol. There was no time to make friends.

"Good Isabelle. I was getting worried," he grinned at the bleary-eyed Izzy. He knew she was late but chose to go along with her excuse for now.

"You know I hate that name," Izzy grimaced but laughed good-heartedly.

"The king gave you that name," Timothy scoffed. "You should be grateful you selfish child. He treats you like you're his own child."

"Me selfish? You can't compare me in the same category where Prince Alexander reigns," Izzy snorted at her pun. Prince Alexander was known as the royal pain who thought too highly of himself. The servants knew he couldn't help it since he was raised as a spoiled brat but it didn't stop their dislike for him.

In public he was a celebrity and loved by the townspeople but on the inside he was conceited and selfish. He was away at a private school with other top socialite people where he furthered his education and learned his princely duties. It had been three years and everyone who worked in the palace would say that it had been a peaceful three years.

"True but you're treated like you are one of them," Timothy said sourly, pointing out what Izzy hoped he wouldn't. Although the king was strict with Izzy's training and lifestyle, he still treated her well, making it obvious to many that she was his favorite. Even Izzy couldn't ignore the fatherly way the king treated her, but she excused herself with the fact that he raised her since she was born.

"The bodyguard is supposed to get personal with the family," Izzy reasoned. "They only want me as a human shield. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Well let's get back to the fact that you woke up late," Timothy reminded, crossing his arms in disappointment.

"I thought you had forgotten," Izzy sighed, feeling her quads tighten from the late night patrolling and the ten mile hike Timothy had made her go through the day before.

"How about a good old five mile jog?" Timothy suggested good-naturedly. Izzy groaned internally but did not dare let her disappointment show. She was lucky to have an easy punishment today.

The jog consisted of several stops for various excruciating stretches that made her quads burn even more. It continued like so until five miles ended and Izzy broke down from exhaustion.

"Don't tell me you're already tired, Izzy," Timothy laughed. He easily had no trouble running five miles and hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Why can't you be his bodyguard?" Izzy joked, putting her hands on her waist to steady her balance. She focused on breathing.

"The king wants you and honestly I don't want to be a bodyguard. I'd rather be a blacksmith," Timothy said grinning. "Stefan's still teaching me some things."

Stefan was in his prime age and was built with muscles to aid him to make the best weapons for the king. He was a well-known blacksmith in the kingdom and it was hard to believe he had actual time to teach Timothy, but when the best soldier in the kingdom wanted to learn how to make his own weapons, how could one reject?

"You're still working with Stefan to become a blacksmith? You're so lean!" Izzy teased, expecting him to erupt in anger but got a chuckle out of him instead.

"I'm not lean. I'm far stronger than all the king's men," Timothy scoffed. Timothy was right. He may look lean but it was his height that made him look that way. He was taller than most men and was built purely of muscles. His athleticism and quick-mindedness along with his natural strength put him as the king's best fighter.

"You have youth on your side," Izzy teased. Timothy smirked before he  jumped in on her, his fist ready to make an impact.

Izzy dodged Timothy's huge arms and had her fists up all under a second. Timothy raised an eyebrow, impressed at her reflexes and tested her further by quickly throwing her a sword. She caught with ease and playfully rotating it in her hands before she posed, watching Timothy carefully. He was deadly when given a mission.

"Brace yourself," Timothy advised as he launched himself towards Izzy. He never went easy on Izzy since she was already more skilled than most of the men in the king's army, but she was a girl with no rights to a position. Maybe that was why the king wanted her to become a bodyguard. She was good use for Prince Alexander but Timothy knew Izzy would get into trouble with her snappy comments. It was well known that Izzy and Prince Alexander never had the best relationship in the palace.

Izzy backed off from offense and took in a quick breath of air. The five mile run had emptied her energy but she didn't allow herself to give up. If she gave up it was either punishment or a lecture for a good half hour. She liked Timothy a lot but sometimes he went too far with his never ending lectures about her importance in the kingdom. She was the prince's bodyguard, safe behind thousands of other soldiers who guarded the gates of the kingdom and castle.

Timothy saw Izzy's small break as an advantage to attack and used the precious time to go in for the driving kill. Izzy deflected it at the last second and pushed with all her might but Timothy's strength eventually tipped the balance. In a matter of seconds, Timothy's sword was a centimeter from Izzy's skin.

"You backed off," was all Timothy said as he drew back his sword and examined what had gone wrong. He looked at her form from her feet to her head. He sighed. "You weren't holding your sword the way I told you to and your back needs to be straighter if you want to center your balance."

Izzy cursed under her breath but got a whack on the head for it, a practice Timothy performs religiously whenever he caught Izzy being a potty mouth. She mumbled 'sorry' and tried to listen to Timothy's advice. She poised one more time and let Timothy examine her again.

"Better but not perfect," he said, finally giving his verdict.

"But this is uncomfortable. I like the way I hold my sword," Izzy complained, slacking her shoulders to her normal position, gripping the sword the way she liked.

"Well you might as well get used to it because that's the proper way to fight," Timothy chided. "We can speak about this further after break time and lunch. I have to end this a little early so I can go into town to see Stefan."

"What do I say if they ask where you went?" Izzy asked. They had kept Timothy's secret meetings with Stefan a secret for a year. If their secret got out, Timothy would be heavily reprimanded for leaving his station.

"Tell them I needed to buy some herbs for medicine. They always believe that one," Timothy winked. Izzy thought of this as an opportunity to find her refuge in the palace's library where she befriended Marge, the old but cheery librarian and the second out of the three people she thought as friend. The two comrades said their 'good-byes' and walked in different directions both having a mindset of a location of their desire.

Izzy quietly made her way into the palace's old wooden door, hoping it wouldn't creak. Luck was on her side as she made her way deeper into the palace and towards the direction of the library. As she was hurrying her way with her head bent down to avoid attention, she bumped into a solid figure.

Cursing to herself for her stupidity, she looked up, about to mutter an apology when she noticed a very familiar pair of warm brown eyes. His eyes had stayed the same over the years, but he was much taller and he filled out in places, making him look like a man instead of the boy she saw when he had first left the castle.

He grinned devilishly with full set of white teeth, creating a lump in Izzy's throat. 

"Are you not going to say hello to me, Isabelle?"

 It was Prince Alexander in the flesh.