The Princess & The Knight Part 1
To those who know chivalry isn't dead. Part 2 is out Thursday, January 15th.
The bellow that swept through The Knight’s cabin at sunrise pulled him from the depths of sleep. Still half caught in the fog of his nightmare, he was only half convinced that what he heard was real at all.
Rolling towards the window overlooking the eastern hills, The Knight pushed the stained glass away to prop himself on the ledge. With half his body through the wooden frame, The Knight scanned the sky in hopes of catching a glimpse of the creatures he’d only heard about in stories, but was met with no signs of life or light. The grey clouds so calm that he began to think he truly had imagined it.
The Knight pulled himself back in, running a hand through his disheveled hair as if he could shake his memory awake. For a few heartbeats, he allowed himself to sit there, deciphering between dream and reality. It wasn’t the first time his mind had played tricks on him. Night terrors had warped The Knight’s thoughts for most of his life.
A few deep breaths later, and he retreated to the shower, choosing to believe none of it had ever happened.
The adrenaline from his early morning wake-up call kept The Knight’s body warm as he trudged down the path to the barn. He’d ride to the castle early, despite the still freezing temperatures.
When he was younger, The Knight had begged his parents to let him live in the stables. His mother had agreed to a single sleepover once because his father had offered to stay with him. They’d stayed up until twilight playing games, eating cheese, and reading books to the horses.
He still sometimes ate dinner there, living out the nostalgia of when he was just a kid enjoying the family’s mountainside home. The castle may have been their full-time residency, but the small cottage was where The Knight felt most at home. Which is why he’d moved in when his parents passed.
He found purpose in ensuring the intimate space was preserved. Filling each crack and fixing every leak as if the integrity of his parents’ lives depended on it. Even the grittier tasks seemed less like a chore than a responsibility he looked forward to after a long day. A simple routine in an otherwise complicated life.
The Knight lived alone save for his Clydesdale, Lady, whom he’d raised from the time she was a foal; so feisty that the stable boys had practically visibly sighed in relief when The Knight asked to rear her.
Gathering her saddle and bridle from the tack room, The Knight turned to enter the barn. Every day, Lady would greet him with a gentle whinny from her stall until he offered her carrots and a gentle pat as he dressed her. The meditative routine had become the favorite part of the morning as he let Lady’s gentle demeanor wash over him.
Which is why the sight of Lady, silent and wide-eyed before him as if she’d seen a ghost, confirmed that he may not have been imagining things at all.
The village tucked against the cliffside of the kingdom served as a hub for the entire community to gather for festivities, announcements, or simply an average day’s errands. Which is why it wouldn’t be suspicious for The Knight to make a quick stop ahead of his duties.
The Knight’s first stop was the blacksmith to pick up his freshly sharpened sword. Or at least that’s what he said… Despite still being unconvinced that what he heard — if he heard anything at all — was a threat, The Knight knew that if there was any knowledge of impending danger, the metalworker would be the first to know. To The Knight’s relief, the blacksmith only spoke of how business had been on the slow side. The same could be said for the armourer, the cobbler, and even the town crier. The lack of news only confirming the necessity of The Knight’s final errand.
Bending under the doorframe, clearly not built for someone taller than a tree limb, The Knight took the cavernous hallway deeper into the damp shop. Built into a hill, it was the perfect home for an apothecary and its eccentric owner. Still hunched within the shadowy space of the corridor, The Knight could just barely hear whispering over the recently lit fireplace.
He hadn’t thought much of what he believed to be the breathy musings of the pharmacist until another voice chimed in. While the crackling flames were just loud enough to drown out anything intelligible from their dialogue, he could see enough of the man’s face to know it wasn’t a comfortable conversation as he turned the corner.
Realizing he’d rather not be caught lurking, The Knight coughed under his breath as he took a couple of steps, standing upright in the slightly more spacious foyer. The pharmacist nervously fixed his glasses before walking around the hooded figure, who was still angled towards him as if not willing to share his time with The Knight yet. Despite the solient protest, the pharmacists moved to take The Knight’s hand in his own clammy embrace.
“I didn’t realize you took such early appointments,” The Knight offered, his eyes not straying from the mysterious guest behind the shop owner as he offered the meaningless gesture of harmless small talk in most situations. The way the pharmacist’s eyes shifted told The Knight that this was not most situations.
The figure took their time to fix the black cloak around their face before turning towards them. Among the midnight creases of their attire, all that The Knight could make out was the piercing gaze of a woman. She raised her chin toward the pharmacist to offer a sharp nod before disappearing down the same path that The Knight had just entered through without acknowledging his presence.
“I try not to make a habit of it,” the pharmacist forced a soft laugh, rubbing his hands together before peering up at The Knight through his round glasses as if the woman was never there at all. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”
“I apologize for the impromptu visit.” It was the Knight’s turn to flush. “I was hoping you might be able to make me another sleeping elixir.”
“Of course, of course,” the pharmacist sighed, the muscles in his body visibly unwinding as if he were expecting something else. “I’ll have that ready for you just before dawn. Is there anything else I can get you?”
The Knight paused, wondering if he’d be so bold as to ask who the woman was. Rather than feeding his desires, The Knight simply shook his head and retreated back into the village with a promise to see the pharmacist later.
The courtyard was already bustling with cooks, stewards, and stable hands when the guards opened the gates for The Knight and Lady to enter the castle grounds. He would have stopped one to ask what the commotion was about, but they all seemed too busy to interrupt.
The Knight accompanied Lady as she walked herself to the barn, ears back like she, too, was trying to work out what was different about that day. As if in response, a loud bang came from within the wooden walls before them, causing her to take a few steps back. Taking the lead, The Knight opened the stable doors, shocked to see most of the space occupied. Horses’ eyes darted towards one another as the stable hands did their best to offer them food, water, and blankets.
Lady looked toward The Knight before taking her own stall, each going through the motions to make her comfortable as she stared silently at the tourists around her. With a sugar cube and a pat on the nose, The Knight ran up to the castle, his curiosity piqued. He’d barely made it through the stone archway before catching sight of the man he was looking for.
Silas had been the principal protector of the walls The Knight had grown up in for his entire life. He’d even been on duty the night he was born, often telling the tale of how The Knight, unlike his brother, was so quiet that the physicians had worried there was something wrong. In reality, The Knight simply chose his words very carefully from a very early age.
Not only had Silas kept the royal family safe for his entire life, but he had also passed these skills down to The Knight. Somewhere between Silas teaching him how to use a dagger in battle and his family teaching him how to use a steak knife at dinner, The Knight decided he preferred the former.
Catching his apprentice’s eye, Silas politely retreated from the huddle of guards he’d been conversing with. Thirty years The Knight’s senior, the time reflected on Silas’ face in battle scars rather than wrinkles. Despite having faced danger as a daily task for his entire adult life, he had a gentle demeanor; always greeting The Knight with the warm embrace of a father simply welcoming his son home from a trip.
“I think I can assume why you’re here early,” Silas laughed, already leading them into a more private corner of the castle. Neither one of them said anything more until they were up against a window overlooking the glassy surface of the ocean beneath, out of earshot of the main halls.
“I had assumed,” The Knight mustered, pulling his eyebrows together, eyes blinking as he responded, “that I was being haunted by my own mind.”
“Well, good news for you,” Silas’ laugh rumbled as his voice fell to a hushed whisper. “Those were just creatures that can you eat flying overhead, not a bad dream.”
The Knight knew that his mentor was being facetious, but it was true. He was relieved to know that his night terrors hadn’t returned. That seemed much less controllable, somehow, but he knew that was a flippant thought when the reality was that they were still in a very dangerous circumstance.
“What’s brought them from the coast?” The Knight openly questioned, still digesting his surprise. The dragons hadn’t left the eastern shoreline for over sixty years when, under his grandfather’s rule, they’d been hunted to near extinction. His father, The Knight was proud to say, was a kinder man who outlawed that and many other barbaric and ancient practices that persisted after his death.
“Family vacation?” Silas shrugged, obviously not wanting to give more weight to the notion that they were there for nefarious purposes. The Knight could see right through it, “Animals migrate all the time. I’m sure they’re ju—”
Silas stopped mid-word to bow to a figure behind The Knight. With a roll of his eyes, The Knight turned to do the same. The sight of his older brother in a crown was still not something that he’d grown used to, even years after his inauguration.
“Get up, you pious bastards,” The King clapped before embracing Silas. Per tradition, he lightly jabbed at The Knight’s shoulder before pulling him in for a hug, as well. The former silently excused himself with a nod of his head and returned to where his order was preparing for patrol. The brothers watched as he turned the hallway before beginning.
“I’m glad you’re here,” The King sighed, his naturally flamboyant nature already drained by the day’s events. While The Knight might have lingered in The King’s proverbial shadow, their physicalities were the opposite. Despite being the same height, years of conditioning had given The Knight a strength his brother could never obtain sitting behind a table. “I’m sure you’ve seen the excitement that has brewed overnight.”
“I heard the dragons this morning,” The Knight started quickly, knowing to be direct with his brother to catch shrouded emotions underneath the practiced facade of a composed commander. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to be early.”
“One step ahead, as always,” The King remarked, moving toward the door. It was true. The Knight’s brother had always been plucky, so he had always known that keeping up wasn’t enough.
The King picked an apple from a bowl on the entryway table as he strode through the courtyard. He seemed oblivious to everyone who had stopped what they were doing to nod their head as he snapped a first bite off the fruit.
“Our eastern neighbors have joined us,” The King’s voice increased from a whisper as the brothers descended the stone pathway toward the gardens, their distance from the busy square growing. He’d tried to hide his concern underneath a short laugh, but the darkness in his gaze gave him away.“They don’t seem happy.”
The Knight furrowed his brows as he tossed his head back, hands in pockets. Automatically more at ease away from the castle’s chaos despite the news. He couldn’t make sense of all the information he’d acquired that day. Nor could he help but feel that he wasn’t hearing the full story.
“Do we no longer have an alliance?” The Knight questioned, narrowing his eyes on his brother while he pulled a rose from the nearest bush. “
“They’re with The Princess,” The King shrugged, twirling the flower in his hand absentmindedly, “she seems to have convinced them that we have something to do with a horrific attack on their kingdom last night.”
The King had only been twenty-two years old when he took the throne. Their father had been a beloved figure whose sudden death was felt by the entire realm. His untimely passing left leaders of each kingdom saddened and worried about what the new generation would bring. His brother began his reign by visiting each country as a humble partner. The Knight accompanied him as they shook hands and attended dinners throughout the entire domain. Each new leader had practically begged for immediate confirmation that their existing agreements would stay in place. A question that The King — The new King — was more than happy to answer in the affirmative, having no plans to alter existing commitments.
Except for one. While each deal between kingdoms included an equal trade deal or strategic alliance, The Princess’s kingdom on the southeast shores demanded something unique. Continued ownership of The Gateway — the ten-kilometer stretch of coastline where the dragons lived.
It was the only request that The King declined across all the kingdoms. He insisted that there was no proof of such an arrangement and that it was in direct contrast with other arrangements. They left the next morning confused, but not unsettled by the smaller kingdom’s leadership. The Knight could only recall his brother’s terrifying silence on the ride back. They hadn’t discussed it once.
“Why would she jump to that conclusion?” The Knight challenged. It was an incredibly bold accusation for The Princess to make. He couldn’t fathom what kind of evidence she had that would make her feel so confident in the integrity of her insult.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” The King growled, a bead of blood dripped from where he’d pricked himself on the flower he’d been walking with. “Unfortunately, however, the others believe her accusation and have met us here to warn us.”
“Warn us?” It was The Knight’s turn to laugh. The eastern kingdoms were smaller. Their entire region combined made up only half the population of their own. “What could they possibly threaten us with?”
“War.”