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The Princess and the Hero(ine)

  (Taran Stonehair)

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  I will admit that not all stories strictly required a princesses, sometimes they were about treasures or evil dragons and the like, but a beautiful princess pretty much guaranteed that your story would be that much better.

  My name is Taran Rivers(but people also called me stonehair) an orphan with who was very lucky to have been born with grey hair and sent to be raised in the court as a servant (I lost to a dwarf in my chance to be the court fool but I am not compining)

  Oh by servant I mean the personal showpiece of the Princess along with two other boys with red and orange hair

  Her Divine and Imperial majesty, Princess Miriam Ida Von Oldenburg First of her name,the most excellent dy and Princess, by the grace of the Schor and all his Thoughts Grand-Duke of Floria , Adriana and Bursa, Custodian of Essteria, Padishah and Damasc, and of the Cities of Cita,of Azerban, of the Isle of Magreb

  You get the point the fact that she was really quite beautiful (not bragging of course not, I nearly state the obvious fact that the beautiful princesses is devastating in terms of beauty and loveliness) and an extremely powerful member of the royalty

  There was one man she wouldn’t mind sharing her supreme position with. The good hero of legends.A great warrior. A great king. Young and handsome and utterly incapable of doing any wrong.

  Someone who we have no idea how he looks at all true there are hundreds of paintings portraits of the hero but it’s is about the long dead heroes of past (who by the way have set a very high bar on how a hero is supposed to be)

  Unfortunately Princess Miriam very much intended to marry him as unknown though he was, was considered by most to be the greatest king, warrior and husband in all the human kingdoms; being married to him would ensure that Miriam was the greatest queen. Which meant that she would be adored even more than she already was

  After all, what were princesses but living receptacles for praise? It was their sacred duty to be loved and admired by all and to have status and painting made in their honour

  All that sounded nice but there was however one big detail that had escaped Miriam attention – she wasn’t a very lovable person. She was certainly beautiful on the outside; but that beauty, as they say, only went skin deep.

  She was vain and petty and stubborn as-I means very determined. A lesser princess might have been content with adoring courtiers and extravagant praise. Miriam? No. For her, love was a competition, and she fully intended to win.

  To that end, she had made it her life’s mission to marry the Hero ignoring the fact that he was possibly mythical, potentially long dead(or not born yet), and almost certainly uninterested in her did not seem to trouble her in the slightest. No, in her mind, she was already betrothed. The wedding, the celebrations, the statues erected in their honor—it was all as good as real.

  There was only one small obstacle: she had no idea where he was.

  Not that this deterred her. If he would not present himself, she would simply have to find him. And so, in what might have been the most spectacurly self-indulgent royal decree in the history of Armania, Princess Miriam decred:

  ”Let there be a Grand Search for the Greatest of All Heroes! Bring forth the champion, with his holy sword —I shall judge him myself!”

  The court erupted into polite appuse, the kind that signals complete and utter terror. No one in their right mind wanted to oppose her, but no one could quite figure out how they were supposed to produce a man who might not even exist.

  So for most of the time we just did the usual

  “Is the hero here yet ?”

  “No, your grace”

  This was, of course only sted until the hero actually appeared

  The spymaster had contacted her almost immediately after he cimed that one of the previous hero’s companion has found the new hero

  Now that is where we—the princess’s ornamental servants—came in. As one of the three color-coordinated “showpieces” in her court, I, Taran Rivers, was tasked with a most sacred duty: standing around, looking interesting, and not making a fool of myself while the princess prepared for the hero’s arrival

  Princess Miriam was sure that could mean only one thing; the hero was here to ask her to marry him. Why else would he rush to her side?(Probably he was forcibly invited by an legion of knights) They would announce the engagement at the feast and everyone would be completely happy for them. All other princesses would envy her, but Miriam wouldn’t mind about those less fortunate than herself… which was pretty much everyone.

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  “My Hero must be strong,” Miriam decred as she reclined on a mountain of silk cushions. “And handsome. And wise. And—”

  “Perfect?” I suggested.

  She gave me a sharp look. “Perfection is an understatement.”

  The red-haired boy, Adrian, cleared his throat. “Majesty, perhaps if we had an idea of what he actually looks like—”

  Miriam scoffed. “A hero’s appearance is irrelevant. He is defined by his greatness!”

  “Yes, but what if he’s short?”

  Silence fell over the chamber. The air grew heavy. Even the candle fmes seemed to shrink in fear.

  Miriam turned her head slowly, the weight of her disdain crushing Adrian into a very small, insignificant speck of existence. “Short?” she repeated, as if the word itself offended her ears.

  The orange-haired boy, Lucan, leaned in and whispered, “Rest in peace, Adrian.”

  I took a careful step back, ensuring I was out of the bst radius. Adrian, realizing his peril, attempted a weak smile. “Of course, Your Majesty, I only meant—”

  “Silence.”

  Adrian silenced.

  Miriam exhaled through her nose, composing herself. “Obviously, the Hero is not short. That would be ridiculous. He is a man of legend.”

  “Ah,” I said. “A tall legend, then.”

  She ignored me and looked at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression probably thinking up compliments she could pay to all the other women who weren’t blessed enough to be like her

  “I’ve known since we were children that we were meant to be together.” Miriam sighed

  I have been serving her since she was four and I am pretty sure I never saw any hero nearby

  “Speaking of which what is taking those two so long to get my dress,” Miriam turned her sharp gaze on me, “you go and tell them to get my dress now...oh and check the with the feast preparation with the Master of Kitchens and tell the Master of Ceremonies to meet me ”

  “I hear and obey “ with a short formal now I left the chambers and my way down the corridor toward the dressing chamber, already suspecting that this would not be a simple errand.

  Considering they were handpicked from the nobility for their beauty rather than their skill and in the many years I had served Princess Miriam, I had witnessed firsthand the utter disaster that was her personal handmaidens.

  And sure enough, the moment I stepped into the dressing chamber, I was greeted with absolute chaos.

  Silk flew like war banners in the wind. Ribbons and ce y scattered across the marble floor like the remains of a battlefield. And in the center of the carnage—

  Two noble handmaidens, engaged in what could only be described as an untrained wrestling match.

  They were screaming at each other, cwing, yanking, kicking—

  “You’re a fool with no sense of elegance!” Brunhild the brunette spat,

  “And you have no concept of fasion!” the blonde shrieked,

  “You just want to be the one who picks the dress!”

  “So do you!”

  “She’ll look ridiculous in that—”

  “At least it’s not covered in pearls like a fish’s scales!”

  “Take that back!”

  Normally I would be happy to sit back and watch the two go at it but not when I have work to do

  I took a deep breath.

  Then, at the top of my lungs, I shouted—

  “ENOUGH!”

  The two handmaidens froze mid-struggle.

  One of them had her fingers buried in the other’s hair. The other had a knee raised, about to kick the first in the stomach.

  They turned their heads toward me, wide-eyed, as if they had just remembered I existed.

  I exhaled sharply and folded my arms.

  “The princess wants her dress now,” I announced.

  “We were just about to present it,” Brunhild said immediately.

  “But this idiot insists on pushing her choice forward,” Maren snapped.

  I gnced around. Gowns were everywhere—draped over chairs, spread across tables, even tossed haphazardly onto the floor a waste of silk and embroidery

  I exhaled sharply. “Let me get this straight. The princess—your mistress—gave a direct order, and you two are deying it because you can’t agree?”

  Brunhild shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not—”

  “Sounds to me like you think your judgment is better than hers.”

  That did it. Their expressions flickered between panic and indignation.

  “I would never—” Maren started.

  “Then take the twenty best ones of your choice and LET her decide.” I gestured at the mess of gowns. “Or I can tell our most noble princess that you disobeyed her command because you believe that you know her taste better than she does.”

  That shut them up.

  Maren swallowed. “We’ll take them all to her.”

  “Immediately,” I stressed.

  I nodded, satisfied, and turned to leave. I had other errands to run, and dealing with petty maid squabbles wasn’t on my list of enjoyable activities.

  I made my way to the kitchen and As I turned a corner and nearly walked straight into someone

  “Illyana” I said recognising the girl

  She blinked up at me, amber eyes warm Her golden blonde hair framed her face in soft waves, and she wore a sky blue dress—A sapphire pendant rested just below her colrbone

  She was alone, as always.

  “Taran,” she greeted, tilting her head slightly “You seem to be in haste “

  “Just saved two handmaidens from a very painful death.” I grinned” Now I must ensure that the cooks are saved too”.

  Her lips quirked. “Miriam?”

  “Who else?”

  “so she sent you to the kitchen” Her brow lifted slightly. “Another feast? she just had one four days ago”

  “No, this one is for the hero. The st one was for the meeting with the noble faction.”

  She hummed, gncing toward the hallway leading to the great hall.

  I frowned. “What are you doing near the kitchens?”

  “Missed breakfast,” she said lightly.

  I gave her a sharp look. “Was it another servant acting arrogant?” My voice came out colder than I intended.

  Illyana’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing like that.”

  I waited.

  She sighed. “They were fussing over me all morning—dressing me up, fixing my hair. Apparently, today is an important day.”

  I gnced at her gown again, the deep blue fabric catching the light just right. “It suits you.”

  Her fingers brushed over the pendant at her colrbone. “You think so?”

  It looks like the morning sky —deep and endless fitting for your beauty that shines like the golden sun” I praised her.

  Something unreadable passed over her expression before she let out a quiet chuckle. “Fttery, Taran? How unlike you.”

  “My Princess I spend my time breathing fttery near you sister’s divine presence “ I mock bowed.

  We shared a short ugh, the kind that came easily between old friends, before making our way toward the kitchens

  Unlike the rest of the royalty she was not the daughter of the Queen instead she is the daughter a minor noble who managed to sleep with the king

  Thankfully since she was of noble blood and to avoid letting that incident used by the nobility fraction he took her mother as his concubine

  The practice of formalized concubinage is common among kings so nobody questioned the king and Illyana being born of one is counted as a bastard in succession ws(being the st option) but not from the social point of view.

  “Is Miriam still obsessed with the hero?”

  “Oh, absolutely.” I nodded. “She’s convinced he’s arriving just to propose.”

  “He is entitled to her a princess, on account of being a swineherd “ Illyana scoffed. “Then I almost feel bad for her.”

  I ughed in agreement

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  Bancing a wooden tray, I moved through the hall with steady steps, careful not to drop the small dishes of smoked trout slices on round pieces of rye bread while I surveyed the serried ranks of nobles in the Great Hall,

  It was a quite a surprise for me as I picked out the forms of the Five Great Nobles among the various guests.

  The five of them gathered together was a rare occurrence indeed.

  The heads of these five families controlled almost as much nd as the King, and their combined military power surpassed that of the King himself. Because of this, they more or less were second in authority to the king himself.

  This was especially true for the leader of the anti-royalty faction ― the Noble faction ― Duke Boleros of the bordernds, the keeper and warden of the North, who did not even bother to hide his disdain for the King.

  He stood there a tall well-built man with grey hair and beard that had seen many winters and a grim-face with a scar running from his scalp to his left cheek narrowly missing the eye

  The strong smiter, the war wolf among many titles that his men called him and he was a warrior someone who defended the kingdom from the hill tribes and raiders

  Unlike the previous heads of his family he decided that the bordernds will not bleed for a feeble king who only repays their sacrifices with royal appreciation and honourable trinkets

  It was easy to sport Duke Haimirich Faegercastl the most luxuriously dressed person in the court.

  This young nobleman with handsome features was the second member of the Nobility fraction. His domain contained gold and mithril mines, whose bounty of precious metals made him the wealthiest man in the Kingdom.

  There were dark whispers circuted that he was extremely greedy, to the point where he would even betray his own family for a gold coin.

  I know better these were just rumours that started by jealous lords

  Duke Haimirich earned his title by the right of his wife Duchess Bnche Faegercastl

  The title Duke of Faegercastl was vacant because there were no male heirs...and naturally it passed to the nearest of kin

  To preserve and honour the memory of the former house he took the arms and words of the Faegercastl for his own. The hill castle became his sigil, the Highhills became his seat to say the least his vessel lords were not too happy about this

  Arrayed against them were the three members of the Royalist Faction.

  Earl Ronnel Mern Ibel Gardener of Cormwell a rather learn and skinny man, with a pale and unhealthy-looking face and balding hair

  He was busy speaking with another noble a count from the Westfields

  Despite not being a Duke, he controls the rgest and most fertile territory which makes him the one of the most important member of the Royalist fraction and the only counted to Duke Boleros whose territory depends on the import of grains for the harsh winters

  Manfret Aegonfort the old man well past his prime ,with a well groomed short beard and short white hair is the Duke of Artes, another member of the Royalist fraction

  He was a cautious lord, and godly one too who believes in the king’s divine right to rule

  Lastly Lady Illyana Adirn Kadwen, Duchess of the Westfields and Demavend

  She holds one of the most important trade routes with the neighbouring Elves who inhabit the dense woodnds and mountain valleys beyond the mountain borders

  As per customs she inherited her husband’s seat after his death as her son is too young to take it. Despite her (supposed ) low origins and her honorary seat, she is a respected and prominent member of the Royalist fraction

  A trumpet bst silenced the hall.

  All conversation ceased as the herald stepped forward onto the raised ptform.

  ”Honored guests, their Royal Majesties enter!”

  The great doors swung open as the herald procimed each member of the royalty, intoning their long titles.

  The King entered first, his crown heavy ,his expression unreadable his hair was standing to turn white and wearing the usual red and gold mantles and robes

  At his side strode Crown Prince Theodoric, He had a strong body , a neatly trimmed haircut and a eborately designed doublet of crimson velvet, embellished with rubies, was covered by a gold brocade surcoat, and a flowing gold mantle

  And behind them the “Golden Princess” Miriam.

  I nearly dropped the tray.

  She was draped in a white wedding gown ,a dress fit for a bride, not for a royal audience.

  I fought the urge to let out a bark of ughter

  Of course she dressed up in a wedding gown after all her long awaited hero husband is finally arriving to whisk her into his arms and ride off into the sunset

  After that was his second son, the Second Prince, Arnulf Vaiself Von a ten years old boy with a bored look on his face and fiddling with his circlet behind him the youngest twin princesses, Er and Inga, their matching golden curls bouncing as they whispered excitedly behind ce-gloved hands.

  And then—

  Illyana , her royal blue gown gliding like water, gold embroidery catching the flickering glow of the chandeliers. Chin lifted, shoulders poised, she held herself like what one expected of royalty

  The nobles rose in unison, bowing as the royal family took their seats. The Five Nobles offered short bows nods, waiting.

  A beat of silence. Then—

  “Now then, let us begin.” The king said

  The atmosphere of the hall shifted to tense anticipation . The reason for today’s gathering was clear to some, suspected by others—but none dared to voice it outright.

  “Presenting Fiona of Goldwyne champion of the realm, current heroine of the sword summoned by royal decree!”the Herdal announced

  I blinked ‘wait Heroin that’s a term used in pys for oh....’

  As if to confirm my suspicion a young (looking) elf girl with long bck hair and blood red eyes wearing faded green robes and carrying a simple sword entered

  I sharply turned to look at Princess Miriam

  Her face had gone red her eyes were unftteringly wide and

  Thump

  She fainted

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