He was surprised at the welcome he received. One would have thought royalty would try to intimidate and frighten a powerless, penniless young man who knew a secret. Instead he was given dry clothes, a warm drink and allowed to sit by the Princess while he relayed the events of the day. He was usually able to read people pretty clearly, but he could not make out what the King or the Archmage were thinking as he spoke.

“Young man, do you remember the Queen at all?” the Archmage asked.

“A little,” he said.

“She had the ability to heal. At the height of her power, she could heal entire cities,” the King said as he gazed at his daughter. The boy knew how that was possible, feeling and seeing the magic circle was a truly awe inspiring experience.

“It came with a price. The cost was her health. Any time she used her healing circle on a grand scale, it chipped away at her life. Any healing requires a little bit of a sacrifice of energy and vitality, but often it can be restored with time. Our Queen was not given time to recover and despite all our protests, she did whatever was demanded by a needy populace,” the Archmage said.

The King shook his head. “You will not speak ill of our people. She and I inherited a mess from our predecessors. As you can tell, my daughter has demonstrated the same power, and in order to spare her life, I want to keep her powers a secret for a while. Things might be different for her than for her mother, but I don’t want to take the chance just yet.”

The boy could only imagine the amount of pressure she’d be under to heal and save constantly. He’d heard whispers that the young Princess was beautiful and kind but not as useful as her mother, her only magic being making flowers bloom. What a gross understatement. Now he knew her secret and that was a threat.

“You have a choice,” the Archmage said. “You can either have your memories erased, or you will have to serve at the palace where we can monitor you.”

It would be safer for him to have his memories erased. He didn’t want to endanger her, to put her in the clutches of nobles who would exploit her and a never ending stream of commoners whose cumulative requests would equal more than she could ever give. He wished he could remember the feeling of lightness when he was healed, like all the world was laid before him when he thought his life was over. Her serene smile, her warm glow, the feel of her hands in his. Pressing his forehead to hers and reassuring her that he would protect her the way she protected him. Everything around her sprung to life and felt at peace. He would miss those brief and beautiful memories, but he had a promise to keep. He swore he would keep her safe, this is what a real knight would do. He swallowed.

“My Lady, Your Highness, I’ll let you erase my–”

“He’ll become my knight,” the Princess said. All were silent and turned to the patient. Her green eyes sparkled despite the fatigue clear on her face.

“He’ll be my knight. Let him take the test. He’ll pass with flying colors. He’ll be the best warrior this kingdom has ever seen,” she said.

“You need to rest, Princess!” he said. “And you need to be safe. It’s better if I don’t remember anything.”

“Everyone will figure it out eventually. I’m safer if I have someone who I can trust, will advocate for me, and protect me. That’s you. You’ll be the greatest, most respected knight in the realm, I know. One day, when you speak on my behalf, it will carry as much weight as my aunt and my father, I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be sure? I’m just a stable hand,” he said.

She closed her eyes. “You were willing to sacrifice your memories to protect me. I can’t think of a more trustworthy person. I’ll tell our children about this someday...”

She was asleep again. There was no way he heard that last part. The boy’s eyes darted to the King fearfully. He didn’t seem to hear that, or ignored it.

“Well, go to the barracks and rest up. You’ll have to get measured for your squire’s uniform,” the King said.

“You…you can’t mean…”

“My niece is right. I can count on my hand the amount of people willing to sacrifice their own memories for the protection of the monarchy. You should at least take the test,” the Archmage said.

“You won’t be her primary guard right away, but you will be after some training” the King said.

“Yes! I’ll dedicate my life to her!” the boy shouted and got to one knee.

The King chuckled and waved his hand. “Save the platitudes for your knighting ceremony.”

Could this be real? He looked over at the sleeping Princess. He owed her so much. So, so much. Before he left, he took her hand and kissed it.

“From now on, I’ll be at your side,” he said. He took one last look over his shoulder at her before he left.

After everyone was gone, the Princess cautiously opened her eyes. It happened again, she’d used her powers. How could she let that boy die like that? She knew her father and aunt were not mad, and if she had to save anyone she’s glad she saved him. There was something about him that made her feel drawn to him. There was a reason she was silent while she watched him practice his sword fighting, a reason she wanted to talk to him at length rather than just go to the stables. He claimed he was just a humble stable hand and he was, but there was something so noble about the way he carried himself. Not noble in the way of someone who was born into privilege, but noble in the way a true protector was.

A boy who didn’t think about saving his own skin, even when he could have easily climbed up into the tree first and helped her up, he made sure she was safe before all else, before she’d even formally identified herself. She had a feeling that it wasn’t just because he perceived she was rich, she was certain if she’d appeared before him in rags he’d do exactly the same thing, put her safety above his own.

She bit her lip and held the hand the boy kissed to her chest and her face flushed completely pink. She’d never forget today…

His last day as a stable hand was highly unusual. He arrived in a smart squire’s uniform with the Princess on his arm. She trusted no one to help her choose her horse but him.

“After all,” she told the owner of the stables. “He is a most trustworthy individual. I would never have purchased a horse from here without his ringing endorsement.”

By now, news in the town was that their very own favored boy was on his way to knighthood and they wanted to have a little celebration. The story of how he’d saved the Princess from a stampede of horses was more and more embellished each time (and the Princess did not help matters, only embellished them more). So it was through their Princess’s fragility that their boy was moving up in the world.

If only they knew that they saved each other that day, that she was far more powerful than they could ever know. It was safer for them to think he was the only hero that day. He was glad they didn’t know. He was sure anyone who had seen her in the healing circle that day would have been smitten almost to madness, he knew he felt that way sometimes.

For now he’d accept things the way they were. His Princess was only seen as kind and delicate as she made flower crowns for children with her “meager” powers in the square. No one seemed to notice that the flowers they’d set up grew into vines that crept along the streamers and street lights. No one noticed that with the Princess’s laughter, the elderly who could barely shuffle found the energy to dance a little as the music began. He would notice. He could barely take his eyes off of her and he was scared because he knew it was a little more than duty that made him do so.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the middle of the square to dance. He couldn’t explain it, but as he had an arm around her waist as they danced, he felt all was as it should be.