When I first arrived at the castle, I was overwhelmed by its grandeur. The towering stone walls, the intricate tapestries that lined the corridors, and the sheer size of the place made me feel small and insignificant. I was just a boy, plucked from a life of hardship and thrown into a world of wealth and power. It was hard to believe that this was my new home, and harder still to believe that I was a part of the royal family.

I remember the day I met my uncle, the King as if it were yesterday. He was a tall man with a commanding presence, his silver hair and piercing blue eyes giving him an air of authority. Despite his stern appearance, his smile was warm when he first saw me. It was a smile that made me feel welcome, even if I wasn't sure I belonged.

"Alexius," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "Welcome to your family. We have waited a long time to find you."

His words were kind, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was out of place. I was no prince, just a boy who had known nothing but suffering. What right did I have to be here?

But then, my uncle did something unexpected. He knelt before me, lowering himself to my level, and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"You are one of us, Alexius. No matter where you came from, you are family. And we will love you as such."

Those words meant everything to me. At that moment, I felt a warmth I had never known before—a sense of belonging that filled the void in my heart. The King pulled me into an embrace, and I knew then that I was home.

Meeting my cousin, Princess Beatrice, was a different experience altogether. She was everything I expected a princess not to be—fierce, stubborn, and with a spirit that could not be tamed. Her golden hair, tied back in a braid, shone like the sun, and her green eyes sparkled with mischief and determination. She was only a year older than me, but she carried herself with the confidence of someone much older.

When we first met, she sized me up with a critical eye, her gaze piercing as she looked me up and down.

"So you're my lost cousin?" she said, her tone sceptical.

"I guess so," I replied, unsure of how to respond to her intensity.

She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing as she studied me.

"You don't look much like a prince. Are you sure you're not just some peasant they picked up off the streets?"

Her words stung, but I didn't let them show. I had been through worse and knew better than to let anyone's words hurt me.

"I'm not sure what I am," I said honestly. "But I'm willing to prove myself if that's what it takes."

Her eyes softened a little at my response, and she nodded approvingly.

"Good. I don't like weaklings, but I can respect someone willing to fight for their place."

From that day on, Beatrice and I developed a bond that was as fierce as it was unbreakable. She became my closest companion, pushing me to be better every day. We trained together, sparred together, and she never let me take the easy way out. Whenever I felt like giving up, Bea was there to remind me that I was stronger than I thought.

But not everyone in the castle was as welcoming as my uncle, aunt and cousin. Many of the nobles looked down on me, seeing me as an outsider, a boy who didn't belong in the royal family. They whispered behind my back, calling me a bastard, a peasant pretending to be a prince. Their words were harsh, but I refused to let them break me. I had faced cruelty before, and I would not let their prejudice defeat me.

Sir Cedric, the knight who had rescued me, became my mentor and protector. He was the one who trained me, taught me how to fight, and helped me navigate the complexities of life in court. Under his guidance, I grew stronger, both physically and mentally. He pushed me to my limits, never letting me settle for less than my best.

One of the first lessons Sir Cedric taught me was about discipline and focus. In the early days of my training, I struggled with both. My mind would wander, memories of my past distracting me from the task at hand. Sir Cedric was quick to correct me, his stern voice snapping me back to reality.

"Alexius," he would say, "a knight must be focused, and disciplined. If you let your mind wander in battle, you'll be dead before you can draw your sword."

I took his words to heart, forcing myself to concentrate, to push aside the thoughts that tried to pull me away from my training. It wasn't easy, but with time, I learned to control my mind, to channel my energy into every strike, every parry, every movement.

One of the most challenging aspects of my training was mastering the sword. It was heavier than I expected, the weight of it almost too much for my young arms to bear. But I was determined. Every day, I would practice, swinging the blade over and over until my muscles ached and my hands were raw.

Sir Cedric was relentless, drilling me on technique, footwork, and balance. He would have me spar with other trainees, testing my skills against theirs. At first, I struggled, often finding myself on the ground, my sword knocked from my hand. But with each defeat, I learned. I studied my opponents, figuring out their strengths and weaknesses, and gradually, I began to hold my own.

It was during one of these sparring sessions that I had my first real victory. I was up against a boy named Gareth, older and stronger than me, and known for his arrogance. He underestimated me, as many did, thinking I was just a weakling. But I had learned from my past failures, and I was ready.

The fight was intense, our swords clashing with a fury that echoed through the training yard. Gareth came at me with brute force, trying to overpower me, but I used my agility to dodge his strikes, waiting for the right moment. When he overextended himself, I saw my opening and struck, disarming him with a swift move that left him on the ground, my sword at his throat.

For a moment, there was silence in the yard, and then Sir Cedric's voice rang out.

"Well done, Alexius."

It was the first time he had praised me so openly, and the pride I felt in that moment was overwhelming. I had proven myself, not just to Gareth, but to everyone who doubted me. I was no longer the scared boy who had arrived at the castle. I was becoming a knight.

But the challenges didn't end there. As I continued my training, I faced more obstacles, more tests of my strength and resolve. The nobles continued to sneer, their disdain never far from the surface. They couldn't see past my origins, their prejudice blinding them to who I was becoming. It hurt, but I used that pain to fuel my determination. I would show them all that I was worthy of my place in the royal family.

As the years passed, I grew stronger, and more confident. My bond with Beatrice deepened, and together, we became a formidable team. She taught me strategy, how to outthink my opponents, and I taught her resilience, how to keep going even when the odds were against her. We pushed each other to be better, to strive for greatness.

Sir Cedric continued to guide me, his lessons shaping me into the knight I was on the verge of becoming. He taught me not just how to fight, but how to lead, how to inspire others to follow me. Under his tutelage, I learned the importance of honour, of duty, and of responsibility that came with the title of a knight.

As I stand here now, on the brink of knighthood, I can see how far I've come. The boy I once was is gone, replaced by someone stronger, more determined. I've faced countless challenges, both in the training yard and in the court, and I've overcome them all. But I know there are still more to come, more tests that will push me to my limits.

But I'm ready. I'm ready to become a knight, to serve my family and my kingdom. I'm ready to prove to everyone that I am more than my past, more than the boy they once saw as weak. I am Alexius, the lost prince, and I will not be forgotten.