The training grounds were full of knights in leather armor equipped with dull sparring swords. Locke patted me on the shoulder with a smile and jogged over to Casey, grabbing a sword off the rack. I watched as the two of them talked; they seemed lively, happy, and full of energy. A gentle smile overcame my lips and I turned my gaze away from them.

Casey and Locke had been childhood friends, growing up on the outskirts of the kingdom. Both of their fathers were in the Knightage and taught their children to wield swords at a young age. Casey and Locke came to the castle when I was 14; they were immediately appointed as my personal guards, as they were both top of their class. Without any friends or responsibilities, the three of us quickly grew close.

“Angélo!” Locke’s mellow voice rang loudly across the arena, grabbing my attention. “We’re starting! You better cheer for me when I beat her ass!” Casey’s arm came down around Locke’s shoulder and she gave him a noogie. Her lips seemed to mouth, “We’ll see about that.”

Locke and Casey got into their fighting stances, swords in hand. They looked at each other with a hunger for victory. The other knights stopped and gathered around, inching closer to the fight.

Casey began to circle.

Locke matched her pace.

Locke lunged at her with a strangled sound; he always had been a bit impatient. A loud clang echoed around, the two swords trembling against the weight of their wielders. Casey deflected Locke’s sword, immediately taking the change to charge in. She angled her sword for his neck; almost as though she would slice right through him. Locke dodged and jumped back. Although Casey was strong, her short stature meant putting distance between them was easy. Casey sprung forward and Locke braced himself for her attack, getting ready to deflect and land an attack of his own. Casey’s sword came crashing into his—the sound left ringing in my ears. Locke pushed back and Casey stumbled. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Locke thrust his sword forward.

Casey twisted. She dodged—elegant, graceful, almost as if she were dancing—then she returned his attack with twice the amount of force. The strength of the attack sent Locke stumbling backward. Casey finished the spar with one last attack; Locke on the ground, and her sword at his neck.

Casey chuckled, “Good match, boy. But you know I always win.”

Locke took Casey’s extended hand with a huff and rolled his eyes. “You’re the only one in this damn place who can beat me.” He glanced up, his face twisting in concern. “Uh, Casey? You got a little something on your face.”

A shallow gash appeared across her cheekbone. How had I not seen it before? “Casey!” I shouted and ran over to her, “Are you alright?!”

“Fine, fine,” she waved her hands in a comforting motion. “Locke’s sword must’ve caught me. It’s okay. It’s not that deep.” 

I made a whining sound in the back of my throat and grabbed her face in my hands. “C’mon, we’re bandaging it.”

“What? No, no, it’s okay.” Casey had a dismissive tone and she pulled my hands away. “I’ve dealt with worse. This is just a part of training.”

“No!” I said adamantly, “We’re going inside.” I dragged her with me out of the training grounds. Her sword lay discarded in the dirt. She glanced over her shoulder, letting herself be pulled along, and gestured for Locke to follow after us.

Once in my room, I pulled the first aid kit out from my bathroom cabinet. “Stay still,” I mumbled as I put disinfectant on Casey’s wound. She squirmed and tried to bat my hands away. 

“You had a first aid kit in here?” Locke grumbled. He sighed with a shake of his head, “Y’know, it’s really not that bad, Angie.” I placed a bandage over Casey’s wound. Ignoring Locke, I turned to wash my hands in the sink. 

Blood. 

There was blood on my hands. Where did this come from? My hands started to tremble. Oh. Casey. Right. This is Casey’s blood. I glanced behind me. Casey and Locke were talking about the knightage. My eyes jumped up to the bandage on Casey’s face. Her face. Her face, it…I wish I could do that to my face. I shook my head; What? I didn’t want that. Turning on the water, I washed the blood from my hands and stilled as it swirled down the drain. The water’s…red. It’s red. It’s red, it’s red, it’s red…

“Angie? You okay, bud?” Locke clasped my shoulder with a concerned look. 

“Yeah. Yes. All good here,” I laughed nervously and dried my hands on my pants. “Can you put away the first aid equipment?”

“Sure thing!”

…

I stood on a stool and a tailor bustled around me. She pushed and pulled me without concern and her hands worked nimbly.

“Hold your arms out, Angélo, darling,” my mother called from a chair across the room. I did as she said, struggling to keep my arms up for the tailor.

“What’s all this for, mother?” I had been stripped nearly naked. I felt exposed; vulnerable. The bandages on my arms were a bright white; was she looking at them? Was she judging me? Did she know what it was from? Did she…care? Fighting the urge to cover myself, I listened for my mother’s response.

“You’re being fit for your suit, of course.” 

A rush of confusion came over me. I already had plenty of suits. “Why?”

“For the Gala! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” She feigned a gasp and used a fan to hide her face.

“Oh, haha, no, I didn’t forget…” I trained my gaze on the floor, hoping this would be over soon. 

“Your highness,” the tailor held out her hand to help me down from the stool. “Your majesty, your highness.” The tailor bowed and excused herself from the room.

“Come here, baby.” My mother called me over to the velvet couch she lounged on. I sat down hesitantly, pulling on the robe she handed me. She gave me a pitying look. “I…wanted to apologize for what happened over dinner,” she trailed. I remained silent, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my robe. “I didn’t mean for your father to react like that. I just wanted you to keep attending your lessons. You know, I’m doing this for you. I just want what’s best for you. What if you lose control of your…ability? That would be bad for all of us, no?” She ran a hand down the side of my face with a smile.

“...I understand.”

I didn’t. I didn’t understand.