Warrior Princess

Statues and Visions (Part 1)

“Maria!”

I look up from my book as my older sister, Princess Almire, runs in my bedroom. Her shiny brown hair glistened in the light, matching her blue eyes and dress. She takes it after our graceful mother, who, at her age, takes on the responsibility of a woman and future queen. Almire looks a lot like our mother-with her petite body and flawless personality.

“What’s going on?” I stood up and fixed up my dark purple gown. “Did Vera get married?"

Vera is my second-oldest sister, the smart and wise one. Unlike Almire, she wears glasses and keeps her hair in two braids. To me, she’s my favorite and closest person to rely on. Almire and I suspect that she has found a suitor from one of the banquets our parents set up in order to keep the bloodline alive.

I never had my chance to shine at these types of parties, mostly because I looked too stubborn, or I wasn’t like my sisters-flawless nor graceful. When I was seven, a girl tried to talk to me in private, but her stubborn mother had to be a chaperon and get between us. I haven’t seen her since.

Almire looked at me as if I said the wrong answer. "No. This war is getting worse, so father has ordered you to be sent to war."

"Why?" I asked.

Everyone knows ladies are supposed to stay home during a war, but Dad believes sending me off would be the last chance for Surin’s glory. Fighting was a struggle for me. Dad tried to teach me when I was eleven, but when I held a sword, I would freeze up and ask if killing was a sin. I won’t admit it to anyone, but I’m afraid of killing people. Dad is miles from the castle, and he told me if I ever asked him to bring me back, if I was with him in war, he would take my life. I killed two criminals in order to satisfy them.

"Father says because you aren’t killed, they can’t be satisfied."

"You don’t know how much I hate you!" I let out a groan and dropped on the floor. I sat on the floor for a moment, unable to face Almire. I’m a little less stubborn than my older sister, but I still don’t know how to face an enemy nation more brutal than our own. Almire knelt down in front of me and took my shoulders. I never want to disappoint my father.

“I know you don’t want to die, but you have to do it. You’re too young to be a soldier, but we can’t have you marry a princess either. We need you to stand in our family.”

I smiled and hugged her. “You’re right. I’ll do it, but I have doubts.”

She stood up and gave me a warm hug. I closed my book and stared at the blanket on my bed. War was coming, and I didn’t want to be a soldier. At least if I stayed at home, I wouldn’t have to fight. I didn’t like to kill people, and I didn’t want to become a warrior, even if I was royalty.

"Did he give me armor?" I asked Almire. "You know soldiers target women."

"Yes, he did." She came to my door and pressed the handle down. "I’ll get you the proper armor."

I nodded and ran over to the closet. I took out my usual clothes, which is my very plain, off-white dress that would remind me of the cloth that covered the feet of the angel. I tossed it on the bed, and reached for the second dress I kept there.

“What’s this?” Almire asked.

I smiled and held the dress against me. “It’s a soldier's dress.”

“Oh,” she said, somewhat disappointed. She’s been nagging me to get used to wearing a soldier’s dress, even though my father said it’s for my safety. He’s trying to teach me the importance of our royal heritage.

I pressed it against me and stood up. It was a delicate material, embroidered with gold thread, and the sleeves fit my arms snugly. The hem ended just at my feet, and the bodice was barely hidden under my skirt. It would definitely hide my sword, which is another concern that Dad insisted on for me.

“I’m still not convinced that I’ll be fine out there,” I told her.

“You can’t win a battle with your sword, but wits and brains count as well,” she said.

“I can still fight.” I said stubbornly. I’m more of a fighter than a princess. She sighed and sat down on the floor next to me.

“You can’t beat an army of forty thousand soldiers with your sword alone.”

“I’m aware of that, but I don’t know what I'm fighting for.”

“Of course you do.” She kissed my head. “I think you’re going to fight, and I think you’ll win.”

I didn’t say anything. She could be right. But I still didn’t want to fight. I hate war, but it’s probably the only way to get a kingdom back.

“If you’re not going to fight, will you at least take my armor to protect yourself?”

I nodded. I liked the idea of being in battle, but my thoughts drifted to the horrible image of myself getting cut to pieces. I shuddered, and my stomach twisted into knots. I wasn’t scared of battle, but I didn’t want to die, either.

“What are you thinking?” Almire asked me.

“What if the soldiers come and cut me to pieces?” I said.

“Then they’ll cut off your head.”

“Yes, but I’d still be dead, wouldn’t I?”

I thought back to the vision I had of a hooded angel wielding a sword, cutting into a ragdoll army that slowly fell apart. The king of the ragdolls was crying, but I was smiling. The angel shook her head and gazed at the king. The king was unconscious, but his soldier friends were standing in front of him, weapons ready. The angel started to cut through the soldiers, one by one, until the entire army lay dead on the ground. She looked at the king one last time, and he opened his eyes. She smiled at him, then grabbed his sword with her white, muscular hands, and she cut her own throat. I felt the bile rise in my throat, but I swallowed it back. No tears were allowed. I looked away from the sight and wiped my eyes.

“They wouldn’t hurt you,” Almire said softly, “if you were to hold their sword. You can use their arms.”

I shook my head. “Whatever you say.”

[Part 2 coming soon]