Guarding Princess (5 Chapters)

Acknowledgments:

I enjoy doing research when writing because nothing ticks me off more than blatantly wrong information. After being taught for 8 years how to write a proper history paper (and not plagiarize), I’ve found that it’s second nature for me to want to add citations on where I’ve gotten my information from. Since that tends to throw off the flow of a fictional work, we shall both have to settle for my immense thanks to the British Quarterstaff Association who have graciously shared their information with the world at large. And [cough], I hope they weren’t serious about only offering training to men.

Part 1

Chapter 1

 “Matilda!” Captain Harold Christensen frowned down at the small ten-year-old who stepped to the starting line. The crushed, wide brimmed hat hid the impish face that would more often than not be found watching his Guards practice. But today her face held none of its usual excitement, instead replaced with sheer stubbornness. Christensen knew that nothing was going to stop her from running the course, and probably be the fastest. He watched her tighten the ribbon keeping the hideous hat on her head before she bent slightly to be ready to run when he gave the word. “Go!”

Mattie had tried to ignore the startled exclamations behind her as the boys realized that she wasn’t just another boy trying out to be a Guard, but she wasn’t sure if any of them realized exactly how different she was. She didn’t have time to dwell on it as the captains order came to start.

She fairly flew across the fifty yards of damp grass to the first major obstacle, a climb of three steps to traverse a twenty-five foot gap hand-over-hand, using the one inch steel bars available. As she grabbed the last bar she swung herself as far a she could from the obstacle and hit the ground running for the ten foot tall A-frame ladder now in front of her. She stumbled as she crossed the top, bumping her knee sharply as she stopped herself from crashing headfirst down the other side. She quickly flipped herself onto her rear and controlled her slide down.

The next challenge was a long slog through neck-deep mud. Cold, neck-deep mud she promptly found out. It didn’t help that the mud came up to her neck rather than her chest like the rest of the competitors. She slipped and her head went under the mud for a moment before she found her feet again.

She had no idea how long she’d been on the course as she pulled herself out of the pit, desperately trying to clear her eyes of mud. Though it felt like ages, the Captain hadn’t called time yet, so she kept going. She stumbled again as she ran for the final obstacle, falling to her knees. The mud on her fingers caused her to slip again as she tried to gain purchase from the ground. She let out a grunt and dug her nails into the dirt, shoving herself once more to her feet.

In order to finish the course she had to move four twenty pound sacks to a position five feet away then run back to the Captain. The sacks felt heavier than she expected and though she was able to toss the first one across, the second and third were more of a challenge and she lad to practically carry the last one to its final resting place.

Mat’s eyes sought out the hourglass as she ran back to the start line. To her astonishment, there was still plenty of sand within the top chamber. Far from looking impressed, the boys looked sullen as the captain told her she’d passed. If not for the swift wink he sent her, she’d have thought him just as unimpressed.

“Who do you think you are?!” a tall boy with short, dark hair demanded. He stood in front of Mattie and she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. He hadn’t completed the course yet and so wasn’t covered in mud.

“I think I’m cold and tired, but glad I’m done,” she informed him wryly, reaching for a scrap of cloth available for them to wipe what mud they could off. For all her preparations, neither her hat nor the braid she’d painstakingly pinned to her head that morning had withstood the obstacle course and both now hung limply down her back

 “I think you’re a stupid girl who doesn’t know her place.” He put his hands onto his waist and glared down at her. Mattie assumed she was supposed to be intimidated, but she was too tired for that. Instead she took a clump of mud she’d found in her hair and smeared it across his cheek. The boy reacted immediately shoving her to the ground. Expecting nothing less, she rolled with the shove and emerged out of it on her feet a few yards away, giving him a droll look before she resumed removing the mud. He was stalking towards her to hit her again when the captain gave a sharp shout.

“Wilhelm! Get your rear over here! It’s your turn and if I see you hit a classmate again outside of lessons, I’m going to toss you into the mud pit before I kick you out of the program!”

“This isn’t over,” Wilhelm growled before preparing himself to run the course.

Mattie plucked the loose pins out of her hair as she walked over to the bench where Christensen sat. “Do you mind if I sit here?” She saw that Wilhelm was already at the mud pit.

The captain looked at Wilhelm, too. “Are you afraid of him?” His voice was neither harsh nor gentle, but was quiet.

“Not at all, sir. I just didn’t want to disrupt the trials.”

Christensen looked down at her for a moment and she squared her shoulders, looking into his eyes. He gave a slight nod and turned his attention back to the list in his hand as she perched herself on the bench next to the hourglass.

“Walter!” Mattie willed herself to give just the barest flinch when the Captain shouted in her ear. Walter’s run was slow and he had to be pulled from the mud by the large Captain Andersen standing ready to it, but he completed the challenges.

“He didn’t finish the obstacle!” a slight boy complained. He didn’t seem to be much bigger than herself, though she was sure that her arms were thicker. He was one of three boys still clean.

“The rule is to finish in five minutes,” Christensen replied boredly. “How you do it is up to you. Jack!” I didn’t flinch this time, though the slight boy jumped. He sheepishly admitted that he was Jack and stepped to the line. “Go.”

Jack appeared to have taken the captain’s words seriously. As soon as he was told to start he ran around the bars, the A-frame, and the mud to the twenty pound sacks. Mattie guessed that he couldn’t think of a way to avoid that obstacle. He had a bit of trouble because of his size, but less than he would have if he’d actually completed the course.

She looked at the Captain who had a slightly baffled look on his face for a moment before he made a note on his paper. The Captain by the mud was trying not to laugh, but failed miserably.

Jack ran over, grinning smugly. He actually winked at Mat before standing in front of the Captain awaiting his fate.

Mattie had watched the guard trials for the past three years, patiently waiting for her tenth birthday and her chance to join. She’d never seen anything like that before and she was certain that the Captain would automatically fail him. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was banned from trying again the next year.

Captain Christensen studied Jack for a long time as they all held their breaths. “You pass. Chris!”

Chris walked over slowly, obviously confused by what had just happened.  He was almost to the starting line when he turned to the Captain.  “I actually prefer to be called Christopher, sir.” His voice was low and cracked as he spoke.

Christensen looked at him. “Did I mishear you when you signed up or did you give me the wrong name?”

“Uh…you misheard,” Christopher mumbled, his eyes looking at the ground, clearly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

“I’m sorry about that, but speak louder in the future.” His voice was gruff, but sounded sincere and not unkind as he made another note on his paper. “Go!”

 Christopher did not pull the same stunt as Jack, choosing to run the course as intended. As one of the tallest boys he was able to wade almost comfortably through the mud and the sacks proved to be no challenge at all.

The Captain gave him a nod as he walked past to join the boys who’d already finished. Mattie noticed that they clapped him on the back and congratulated him. Jack hadn’t been welcomed back so jovially and stood off to the side, away from the rest of the muddy lads.

The last to go was Karl who’d stepped up to the line before Christensen could shout. “Go!”

Karl started fast, but inhaled some of the mud and spent a minute or two bent over as Andersen smacked his back and helped him clear his lungs. He finally stood straight and ran to the sacks. Mattie looked at the hourglass and knew that even if he threw the sacks he wouldn’t finish in time. She was sad because she’d seen a lot of boys get pulled out of the mud and then quit right there and she’d rather have Karl, who actually completed the challenge as it’s meant to be, rather than Jack who’d essentially cheated. She shook her head at the unfairness and watched the last of the sand run out before he’d even gotten to the last sack.

The Captain looked at the hourglass and made a note on his paper. Mattie gave Karl a sympathetic smile as he jogged over to the bench. He stood with his shoulders straight as he waited for the nod that she knew would never come.

“You passed.”

Mat couldn’t keep the shock off her face and neither could Karl, though his only briefly passed over his eyes.

“Boys…and girl,” Captain Christensen amended, glancing at Mattie as he stood. “Good job completing the first challenge. There’s still too many for this year’s class so follow me.” He picked up the hourglass.

They followed Christensen to the Armory. Some years, Mattie knew, the obstacle course was the only test, but whenever too many boys made it through, a test of endurance was added. She suspected that the Captain had an alternative motive for the additional trial because eleven wasn’t an unheard of class size.

Christensen had them stand in two lines while Andersen went into the low building, emerging with the staves. He handed them around as Christensen instructed them to hold it above their heads using both hands for five minutes. Then he flipped over the hourglass.

Mattie stood next to Jack and saw that he was having trouble from the start, not setting his feet wide enough, his muscles unprepared. She’d practiced since she was seven just for this task and, just a few days prior, she’d timed herself at more than ten minutes. It was no surprise when Jack’s staff fell after a little more than a minute. Christensen shook his hand and told him to try again next year before he dismissed him. If he was happy to see him go, he hid it well.

Two more boys dropped out before the sand disappeared from the top glass. Even after the last grain fell, no one moved. It was another full minute before one of the boys finally broke the relative silence to tell the captains that the time had expired.

“And?” Captain Christensen hadn’t even bothered to look at the glass.

Someone groaned but it was another minute before Walter lowered his staff. Karl, Christopher, and three others followed suit, walking over to hand their staffs to the second captain before falling to the ground to rest.

“Heh. Looks like we have a competition,” the second captain grinned.

Wilhelm was in front of Mattie with his back towards her. She still felt good while she could see his knees start to shake. This should be easy, she thought.

Two minutes later, a knot was forming in her back and he had adjusted his feet, turning around to watch her. There was sweat on his forehead and his arms were shaking. Unfortunately, Mattie was also blinking sweat out of her eyes and her stance wasn’t as sturdy as it’d been.

“Give up!” Wilhelm called, not for the first time.

“You first.” Mattie didn’t waste her energy with loud declarations. Her chest and shoulders were starting to hurt.

The other boys had begun to cheer. Mat was surprised to hear at least two voices calling her name.

She was just about to give up when Wilhelm gave an odd noise and his arms collapsed, though not committing the cardinal sin of dropping his staff to the ground. Andersen was there to take his staff away and Mattie slowly lowered her own, amazed to see Christensen take it out of her protesting hands.

The boys, who’d gone silent at Wilhelm’s collapse were cheering loudly again, suddenly all knowing that she’d win. They were both slapped on the back as the boys congratulated them.

Mattie shook her arms out. They felt like jelly as she made her way over to Wilhelm. She held out one trembling hand to him. “You did an amazing job. I’m glad to share a training class with you. All of you,” she added, looking at the rest of the boys. Wilhelm didn’t return her handshake.

“You don’t belong,” he said harshly, shoving past her to exit the fray.

Well. At least I know where I stand with him, she thought. The rest of the boys seemed to think that her being a girl was hilarious and laughed as they described their feelings during the trial.

“Kids.” Christensen called the trainees to order. They stood around him, Mattie noticing that Wilhelm stood as far away from her as he could. “Congratulations. You are now trainees with all the rights and privileges that the title entails. In a moment I will take you to the bathhouse so you can get cleaned up before you retrieve your parents. Mattie, you’ll head over to the ladies, please. I’m sure you know where it is.” He didn’t wait for her nod. “After you’re clean, you may go home or wherever your parents are. Bring them back at five for their meeting. Dinner will be served at six. If you’re an orphan, you’ll go with Captain Andersen to the Hauses to confirm that fact—do not try to pretend you’re an orphan if it isn’t true. If you need help telling your parents, let me know and I’ll accompany you home. All right, boys, let’s go. Mat, we’ll see you at five.”

Mattie started walking towards the ladies bathhouse, but instead went into the kitchens rather than continuing to the west side of the castle.

The ever sharp eyes of the cook saw her the moment she entered the vast chamber.

“Oy! You! Get out of here with those filthy clothes!” She grabbed her rolling pin and was marching to swat Mattie with it when the girl allowed herself her first grin of the morning.

“Oh Agnes, you’d never hit little old me.”

Agnes recognized her immediately recognized her. “Mattie, for heaven’s sake, you’re still a mess and I should swat you for it.” She wagged the rolling pen at her again, though much less menacingly. “Did you pass?”

“Of course,” Mattie replied with just a hint of smugness. “My arms are killing me, though. Do you know of a Wilhelm trying out?” She eyed a pile of cookies cooling on the work table that spanned the center of the room, separating the working fires and smaller work tables from the two tables with benches that many of the servants and guards used for non-regular mealtimes.

“Can’t say that I do,” Agnes said, wrapping two of the cookies in a clean towel and handing it to her. “Why?”

“He’s as stubborn as me.”

“Lord help us all!” Agnes cried, looking up at the ceiling and crossed herself. The two assistants nearest her also crossed themselves before grinning at Mattie.

“Thanks,” she replied drily. “What wonderful friends you are.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Agnes said absently, checking the pie filling one of the assistants was working on. Hope and Joy were twins and Mattie had ironically never been able to tell them apart. She’d given up trying to years ago. “Are you trying to get upstairs?” she asked after adding some sugar to the filling.

“Yes ma’am, if it isn’t inconvenient.”

She sighed. “Those passages are supposed to be secret and only used in emergencies, you know.” She gestured for Mattie to walk around the table, but, as most of the smaller kitchen helpers did, she ducked through one of the strategically placed gaps in the pots, pans, bowls, baskets, plates and other kitchen paraphernalia piled on the shelf underneath. She heard Agnes sigh again, but she said nothing as they walked past the work tables to the wall of fireplaces and ovens.

A girl of roughly Mattie’s age was stirring a large pot of soup in the corner of the middle fireplace. “Ellen, be a dear and get some carrots from the pantry for the soup.” Ellen nodded and ran off. Agnes shook her head as she sighed once more. “Always rushing around—she almost ruined the roast last night when she ran into the footman carrying it.”

“I hope you aren’t asking me for advice—you know I run everywhere, too,” Mattie laughed.

“Quiet, you.” Agnes wrapped her hand in a towel and tugged the iron arm holding the pot over the fire towards the center of the room. “Careful of the fire, Mattie.”

The secret door might not be very secret, but Mattie was the only person who knew how to use it. Alright, her parents probably knew as well, but they’d never actually used them, she was certain. Judging the distance between the fire and the hidden door, Mattie jumped. Her rear warmed quickly as she tapped the three bricks that triggered the door. It slid open easily revealing a narrow passageway and a steep spiral stairway. She stepped inside before turning to wave at Agnes as she touched the brick that closed the door.

She reached for one of the pair of lanterns she kept at her favorite doors before remembering that she’d taken the last one a few weeks before. Oh well, she thought, I’ve travelled this route so often I could do it blind anyway. She ran up the two flights of spiral stairs and felt pleasantly dizzy as she took the passageway towards the proper wing, unwrapping the cookies as she walked.

She’d found the passageways by accident on her sixth birthday while hiding from her mother. At first she’d been afraid of the dark unknown, but she quickly found the courage to explore them. It was two years before she quit emerging miles from her intended destinations, though.

Each door had its own unique code; each door frame carved with the proper combination. There were only ten doors that lead out of the castle proper if you included that of the kitchen fireplace. One was in the heart of the formal gardens that’d been tucked into the courtyard between the two wings, another in the back wall of a cave at the base of the cliff anchoring the northern border. Two doors were built into the eastern and southern perimeter walls surrounding the castle and the rest let out in a variety of places that had once been in the surrounding woods.

Now the woods only existed in small patches between farms and along the borders as the population expanded across the kingdom and the doorways are almost conspicuous as they’re the primary reason behind the installation of the small gardens throughout the dense town of Aelhaven neighboring the castle.

Only about thirty rooms within the castle had access to the passageways, though most of the alcoves and seemingly dead end hallways contained a secret doorway. A person couldn’t walk thirty feet without having access to them, though few knew of their actual extent. Since the passages were built singularly for the defense of the royal family, it was amazing that there are a few places where many connected and they could almost be considered rooms where as many as ten people could meet.

Mattie let her left hand trail on the wall as she counted the gateways back to the true castle. She paused at the door to her room and sure enough, five lanterns waited for her to return them to their proper doors. But that was a task for later. She had to tell her parents about her acceptance into the guards and she really couldn’t wait to soak in the bath. The mud had started to dry on her skin and was beginning to itch.

She counted two more doors and pressed the bricks to open the door into her mother’s room, momentarily blinded as the light from the room flooded the passageway even while the heavy tapestry hid her entrance from its occupants. When her eyes adjusted, she slowly drew aside the drapery so to not startle the women on the other side who she could hear discussing a new sewing technique.

“Good heavens child, you are a mess!” Nurse Collins scolded as she saw Mattie’s ash colored body emerge from the wall. Mat took a moment to close the door before she turned to address the ladies. She bit her lip when she realized that her mother’s sitting room was occupied by more than just her and her handmaidens.

“Matilda, I’d like to introduce you to Queen Beatrice of Westen des Landes. Bea, this is my daughter, Crown Princess Matilda,” said Amelia, Queen of Nordengland.

Chapter 2

Crap. Mattie had hoped that the mystery woman was just a duchess or a countess. But to meet a queen while she was covered in mud…not good.

“Your Majesty.” Mat gave her best Guards worthy bow. “Please forgive my appearance. I was just going to the baths. Mother.” She gave her mum a nod and turned to make a hasty retreat.

“Matilda, or should I call you Mattie? Wait. Your mother told me about your desire to get a Guards education and warned me that you’d probably come in here covered in mud. I can only imagine what…the other children look like.” She and Mat’s mother shared a laugh that she didn’t understand. “Did you pass?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Who else is in your class?”

“I didn’t catch all their names, ma’am, but a tall boy named Christopher, a small boy named Walter, um…Karl, who’s average looking but with an incredible spirit, and,” she paused, looking for the right words, “a stubborn boy who doesn’t like that I’m a girl. The rest of the boys seem to think that it’s a lark that I’m female.”

“What’s the name of this nemesis of yours?” Mat’s mother asked. “Or do you not know it?”

“Oh. His name is Wilhelm.”

Queen Amelia and Queen Beatrice shared another look while Mat tried to scratch her nose without either woman noticing.

“Oh Mattie, I’m sorry for keeping you from your bath. Come back and we’ll chat more over lunch.”

She gave another bow as Nurse made her exit behind her.

“I’ll get something suitable for you to put on from of your room. I want you in the tub when I get in there—no dawdling.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mattie left her parent’s chambers, four rooms comprising their bedroom, a sitting room for mother, a den for father, and a shared dressing room, and crossed the hall to one of three bathing rooms inside of the castle.

This one, used by only the royal family, was probably the least decorated, least elaborate, and least formal, though still covered with flowery mosaics and statuary. It was the most comfortable, though. There are two main rooms, one for males, and the other for females initially. But with just four in residence, Queen Amelia and King Fredrick used one, leaving the second to Mattie and her sister. Plenty of room in pools that could easily sit ten.

Mattie glanced at her reflection in the large mirror to one side of the small dressing area. The skin of her arms and face was grey from the mud and…her poor hair!

It was stiff from the dried mud. Her hair was her one vanity—thick and long, it hung nearly to her waist with gentle waves. The perfect shade of auburn, it showed like cinnamon when the sun hit it. But covered in mud it was dull, lifeless and heavy. Nerves and excitement that morning had driven the pain of it pulling her scalp from her notice.

She waved off the maid who’d been sitting near the window with a book when she’d entered. Her mother really had expected her to arrive filthy. Normally attendants were only available at night and when there were events. Amy didn’t really care for Mat, she knew, and the glare she gave Mat’s muddy clothes was the primary reason. Amy hated dirt and thought a person must be crazy to actively accept being dirty.

Mattie kicked off her boots and tugged the strings at the neck of her tunic, loosening it as best as she could before pulling the hem over her head. Her pants were stiff as she stepped out of them and she was about to see if she could get them to stand on their own when she remembered Nurse’s warning not to dawdle. She jumped into the pool, heedless of the splash that nearly soaked Amy, and settled in the center where the water came up to her neck.

The water was gloriously warm. The bathing rooms had been placed purposefully by castle architects to make use of the chimneys from the kitchen fires. The system of pipes used to get water into and out of the pools were the marvel of the day and ensured that so long as castle occupants bathed well, the gardens would never lack for water.

Mattie pulled at the tie at the end of her braid. The mud had caused the leather to shrink and the knot was impossible to loosen, but she only lost a few hairs when she finally worked the tie off. She winced some more as she pulled out the negligent pins.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly sank beneath the surface of the water to let her hair soak. When she emerged, Nurse was standing with her hands on her hips, scowling at her.

◙◙◙

“I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?” Mat asked, grinning as she brushed a glob of rehydrated mud off her arm.

“Put your head under the water for so long. You could drown!”

“Never drowned before,” Mat joked, making her way to one of the benches lining the interior of the pool. Nurse already had the bottle of hair soap in her hand.

Nurse Meryl Collins had been a second mother to Matilda and Hilda since their birth and often was the one to deal with Mat’s messes. She shook her head as she started to massage the soap into Mat’s long tresses. Meryl winced in sympathy as she worked a particularly nasty tangle loose, though she’d never show Mattie that.

“I don’t know why you can’t be more like your sister,” she grumbled, releasing Mattie to let her finish washing her skin. She watched as the girl scrubbed at the lingering mud, smiling at the way Mat made sure her skin turned pink from the friction. She’d taught the princess well.

Mat noticed that Amy and her clothes were gone. “You aren’t normally so critical of my messes.”

“You aren’t normally barging into rooms with visiting queens in them!”

Mat winced. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know she’d be in there. Plus, she seems nice and mother knew and expected that I’d do that. She even warned Queen Beatrice.”

“I know, child, but it doesn’t make me feel any less embarrassed.” Nurse raised a towel to tell Matilda to get out of the pool, wrapped the girl up tightly and used a second towel to dry her hair. Then she nudged Mat to have her sit on the stool so that she could comb out her hair.

Meryl had to stifle her smile as she pulled out the dress Her Majesty had picked for the princess to wear. She knew Matilda would hate it and her instincts were not disappointed.

◙◙◙

It was pink. It was pink and it sparkled as the light hit the jewels. And there were frills!

Matilda groaned. “I can’t wear that! I have to go to the guard meeting tonight!”

“And before the meeting you and your sister will help entertain our visitors. Afterwards you will have dinner with them. You know the rule.”

Mattie whimpered, but didn’t complain. When she’d told her parents that she was going to be the first Guardswoman ever, her mother had forbid it until Mattie had agreed to a few terms. She was not to complain about the clothes that her mother chose for her and she was to willingly accept her lessons to be a proper princess. She also not allowed to act like a Guard outside of her duties. Her mother insisted that she was a princess first and foremost.

“Yes ma’am.” She sighed dejectedly as she eyed the dress again.

Nurse looked at Mat as she kept the towel wrapped tightly around her body. “Come on! We don’t have all day to dress, girl! Drop that towel.”

She blushed, embarrassed knowing that her nurse’s keen eyes would instantly note the recent changes in her body as she let the towel fall.

“Well, look at that! Someone’s starting to get her breasts!” Mat blushed deeper as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You are young child, but there’s nothing to stop it. Don’t be embarrassed--you should be excited to become a woman. Is your sister showing signs yet?”

“No,” Mat told her glumly, her perfectly proper sister was still perfectly flat chested. Mat pulled on the bloomers and held her arms up for the thin shift she’d wear under the horrible dress.

“You don’t have to look like a martyr when you put on these clothes, you know.” Nurse smiled at her charge.

“The rules state that I must have a pleasant expression while engaging in princess duties--there is no requirement that I look pleasant while dressing.” Mat gave her best frown, but before she knew it, she was back on the stool and Nurse was twisting the top of her hair into some sort of design, letting the bottom hang free.

“There you go,” Nurse said, releasing Matilda to look into the mirror. As she expected, her shoulders looked too wide and the color clashed in a ghastly manner with her skin. “You look lovely.”

Mat rolled her eyes as she gave her boots a forlorn look and sighed. She stepped into the small pink slippers Nurse handed to her. “I’ll have one of the lads clean them and put them in your room,” Nurse said.

“Thanks.”

Nurse Meryl had to give Mat a push to leave the room. It wasn’t bad enough to wear the dress, but she knew the boys weren’t going to respect her as a Guard when they saw it.

She squared her shoulders before nodding to the Guard standing at her mother’s door to announce her entrance. She walked calmly into the room and curtseyed to her mother, Queen Beatrice, and nodded to the girl who wore her face, but she thought looked beautiful in the pink, frilly dress.

“Mattie!” Queen Beatrice smiled warmly at her. “You’re just in time for luncheon.”

The meal had already been served, but a place had been set for her at the small table. It was now just the four of them, her mother’s handmaidens preferring to eat with the other maids whenever she had visitors. A footman pulled her chair out for her and she bit her lip slightly as she sat as daintily as she could before allowing him to push it back in. It was not her strong suit, but she was determined not to embarrass her nurse or her mother again so she kept her back straight and tried to imitate Hilda. It was so much more natural for her sister and Matilda just felt like an imposter.

“Mattie, I’m curious.” She looked at Queen Beatrice for a moment before helping herself to some of the roast the footman held next to her shoulder. She realized how ravenous she was, but was certain her mother would frown if she took as much food as she really wanted. “Why aren’t parents allowed to watch their sons...I mean children try out for the Guards?”

Mat placed some potatoes on her plate before answering. “The Guards only want people who are fully committed to the job, ma’am. By not allowing parents to watch, it’s entirely the boys’ choice how they do in the tryouts. They can choose to do poorly if they don’t really want to join. It’s also why anyone, no matter of social status, is allowed to tryout, with or without their parent’s permission.” She added some sautéed vegetables to her plate, but declined the gravy.

The others had already started eating, so she took up her knife and fork and took a small bite of Agnes’ wonderful roast. It took a great deal of control not to chew quickly and immediately replace it with another.

“Besides the mud, what other tests are there?”

Answering Queen Beatrice’s numerous questions made eating slowly easier. Mat’s mother seemed happy at the way she handled herself while Hilda was acting almost improperly at the table, sending her twin grins from behind her napkin.

When the desert finally arrived an hour later, Mattie felt hungrier than when lunch started. She recognized the blackberry filling in the individual pies they were served. Delicious.

Thankfully Queen Beatrice expressed her desire to rest and their mother volunteered to walk with her to the guest wing. If the footmen were moving slowly to remove the lunch dishes, Matilda only saw it as a godsend. As soon as the door closed behind the women she grabbed her plate and ran over to the sideboard to refill it.

“Thank you James!”

He just laughed at Matilda. “Congratulations on getting into the Guards.”

She nodded, her mouth already filled with a roll.

“Gosh, Mat, breathe!” Hildie had retaken her seat at the table while James cleared the used plates.

“I’m hungry!” she said thickly around a slice of roast as she carried her overfilled plate and a second pie back to the table. She’d again avoided the gravy and paused just long enough to tuck a napkin into her collar and lay another across her lap to avoid catastrophe before resuming her feast.

“Mattie, do you want any more or can I take the tray away?” James asked as he set the dishes on the cart to take back to the kitchens.

She thought about it for a moment. “I’m good--I don’t want a stomachache. Thank you.”

“You’ll want to thank your mother, too. She’s the one who told me to stall so you could eat more.”

“Really?!” She nearly dropped a potato into her lap.

“Yes Mattie. If you actually spent more time with mother instead of hiding in the passageways, you’d know how proud of you she is, even if you do eat as much as a horse.” Hilda rolled her eyes and laughed at her sister.

“Sure.” She ate another roll. “Then why is she making me wear this ugly dress?”

“Hey! I like this dress.”

“And on you it looks lovely. On me, not so much.”

“You look just like me! You just aren’t comfortable with your body and looking pretty.”

“I’m going to be a Guard! I don’t need to look pretty!” She shoved a huge bite of roast into her mouth and waved goodbye to James who was trying to escape the room unnoticed. He raised his hand as he left, pushing the cart.

Hilda sighed and passed Mat a napkin. She wiped her chin. “Mattie, if you spend half as much time learning what mother wants you to learn as you do Guard lessons, you will be a very formidable queen.”

Mat glared at her as she ate the pie. “Sure.”

She patted her hand. “You’re just young--give it a few years and you’ll see.”

“Who died and made you forty? And have you seen the list of things mother wants me to learn? There’s not enough time in the day!”

“Trust me. I’m getting just as much of an education. Mum and Dad think I’ll be a valuable advisor and administrator, so I’m learning everything you don’t have time for. When you have to make a seating chart for a feast given in honor of a visiting dignitary, I’ll be the one you’ll rely on.” She grinned, clearly relishing in the power she’d one day wield.

Mat thought about rolling her eyes at her sister, but realized that she was right. “Thank you. Dancing and etiquette are bad enough, I think party planning and fashion would kill me.” She smiled at her. “Thank you perfect Princess Hilda.”

“You’re welcome, future Guardswoman Princess Matilda.” She grinned. “Are you finished eating?”

“Yes.” She patted her contented stomach. “Hopefully it’ll hold me for the rest of the day since I know it’ll be another light dinner.”

“Have you seen Father?” she asked, standing up.

“No. And I need to make sure that he goes to the parents meeting tonight. All I need is for him to not show up.” Mat untucked her napkins and checked her dress for spots. Finding none, she cheered.

Hildie laughed and linked her arm through Mat’s as they left their mother’s sitting room.

“We can take a shortcut to Dad’s study,” Mat said, gesturing to an alcove next to the bathroom.

“And get dirty?”

Mat sighed. “Mum would kill me,” she finished her sister’s thought. “Not you of course. If you ever get dirty, it’d still be my fault.” But she smiled, not perturbed. They walked arm and arm down the hall, automatically adopting each other’s mannerisms to confuse the Guards they passed. Matilda walked a little taller while Hilda took slightly longer steps made awkward by the dress. She also watched her feet while Mat tried to keep her gaze level.

Mat stopped and Hilda looked at her, confused. “What?”

“Is that really how I walk?” They took the stairs down to the second floor.

“Yes. Why?”

“I’m just taking notes on how to be a better princess. Work smarter, not harder, and all that.”

Hildie grinned. “I’ll be happy to act like you to help you learn. Just don’t expect me to go running through mud or spend too much time in the passageways. You know how much I hate them.”

“So you’ll do my dancing lessons?” She asked hopefully, but already knowing the answer.

“Of course not. Don’t you have to learn to dance as a Guard anyway?”

“Yeah, but not until I’m fourteen.”

“Will they make you learn the male parts?”

“I doubt it. Mother is firm that I’m not to pretend to be male.” They came to the grand staircase.

Three stories in height, the main entryway into the castle was meant to impress and intimidate--which is why it’s so rarely used. From the main doors, two spans of stairs curve gracefully inward, leaving room on either side and between for the highly carved doors to the ballroom behind. Above, the stairs turned towards the walls to frame the constellation mural high above. A lush green carpet covered the floor and steps.

From the landing on the second floor the visitor could choose to either go into the foyer or take the wide staircase directly down into the grand ballroom.

As usual Matilda took the left staircase down to the foyer while her sister took the right. They tried to pace it so that they hit the bottom at the same time, meeting in the middle to rejoin arms and continue their way to their father’s office.

The Guard standing outside the office looked at the two princesses for a moment. “Mattie, you have potato in your hair.” He plucked the offending tuber out of a curl. “Otherwise I couldn’t tell the difference.” Hilda and Mattie grinned at each other. “Your father has King Otto in with him, but I’ll ask if they mind your company.” He knocked and announced himself.

Hilda checked Mat’s hair for any more stray food and smoothed her sister’s skirt. Then she scrunched her own skirt slightly to wrinkle it, tugging her top so it hung unevenly above her sash. “There.”

Matthew nodded them through the door.

“Ah, here are my daughters.” King Frederick the Seventh and King Otto were sitting in a pair of leather chairs before the fireplace, though no fire burned.

The two girls curtseyed together, Mattie’s at its best, Hilda’s obviously wobbling.

King Otto nodded to them. “And do they have names?” he laughed.

“Yes, though at the moment I’m not sure which is which.”

“Gee Dad, then maybe Mum shouldn’t dress us alike!” Hildie joked.

“That’s Hilda,” Frederick said, pointing at her, “and that’s Matilda.”

“Hildie, you know that I’m always polite in front of company!” Mat glared at her then shrugged. “She really doesn’t know me at all, sir,” she told King Otto.

“I see. Fredrick was telling me that you accomplished quite a feat this morning. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir. Dad, you will be at the parents meeting? I don’t want to start out wrong.”

“Yes, I’ll be there. Otto said that he’d like to join us to see how our youngsters join the guards.” The two of them shared a smile.

“Will you be attending in that beautiful dress?” Otto asked.

“Yes, sir. My mother insists.”

“Notice that she didn’t thank you for the compliment,” Frederick interjected. “She hates pink.”

“Thank you, Father,” I drawled. King Otto laughed.

“I like her, Fred. She reminds me of you.”

“Yes, she’s definitely my daughter.”

“Have you and Father been friends for a long time?” Hildie asked, her dress once again properly set.

“Yes, the kingdoms have been allies for centuries and our families have made an effort to stay close. Our fathers decided to educate us together since we’re the same age. This confirmed bachelor met your mother at the Christening for my oldest son.” He reached over and punched their father on the shoulder.

“Mum convinced you to marry?” Mat asked her dad.

“No. I thought she was beautiful and wanted to dance with her. She wanted nothing to do with me. It took me two years to convince her to marry me.”

Hil and Mat shared a look. They shrugged. Mat could see her goofy father having to beg her prim and proper mother to marry him.

“I wonder if Mum wasn’t just as keen to marry you, but wanted to make sure that you were serious.” Her sister sighed dreamily--she’d always been the romantic one.

“Maybe,” Frederick smiled. “Mattie, you look bored. Here,” he handed her a book.

It was a history of the twelve kingdoms but as she flipped through it she realized that some of the stories read oddly.

“What is this?”

“It’s a history written in Südlichen Ländern. I’ve ordered a variety of histories written in each kingdom for your diplomacy lessons. When you’ve finished it, we’ll talk about why it’s different and compare it to the other histories that’ve been written around the continent.”

“Sounds good,” she said absently, sitting in one of the chairs facing his desk. She dimly heard the others’ laughter.

◙◙◙

“Mattie.” She looked up. Her dad was standing before me, buttoning his jacket. “It’s almost five.”

“Oh!” She jumped up and took a blank sheet of paper off the desk to mark her place then stretched and yawned loudly before realizing her mistake. Hilda was no longer in the room, but King Otto was also standing. He faked a yawn before she could apologize. Then he winked.

She smoothed her skirt and checked that her hair wasn’t a mess. “You look fine.” Her father took her arm and led them out of the room.

“Thank you, but I need to look perfect if I don’t want the boys to laugh at me.”

“They wouldn’t dare.” Frederick looked down at his daughter with a fierce expression. “I’d have them thrown in the dungeon for laughing at my girl.”

Mattie bumped him with her hip. “Daddy, don’t even kid! I want to be respected for my own abilities, not because my father will put them in the dungeon for looking at me wrong.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll hold my tongue. But if you want the dungeon key, I’ll happily hand it over.” He put his arm across her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“I wish I had a daughter...” Mat had forgotten that King Otto was walking behind them. He sounded wistful.

“Jacob will be ready to marry in a few years--then you’ll get that daughter. And granddaughters. Once the suitors start calling here, I might be willing to trade you if you promise to keep my daughters in your dungeon.”

“You don’t know the type of girls Jacob is attracted to. But maybe one of the younger ones will give me the type of daughter I want.” Frederick gave him a sympathetic smile.

“How many sons do you have?” Mat asked.

“Five. And yes, they’re as rambunctious as you’re thinking. It’s any wonder how I still have a kingdom to rule...or any hair left on my head.” Mat couldn’t help but smile, looking at his thick dark hair.

They walked in relative silence to the rustic dining room. The oldest parts of the castle were over a thousand years old from when the Twelve Kingdoms were first established. The dining room and the kitchen were the first rooms built as the original keep where king and farmer lived and worked together. Frederick had told Mattie that the passageways were part of the vision of the first king and that the original diagram for building the doors was in his office safe. As the centuries passed and rooms and wings were added and redecorated so too were the passageways added.

The grand ballroom was the first major room put in, coming second only to a collection of bedrooms on the other side of the kitchen for the royal family, currently being used as the quarters for Agnes and her assistants. Mattie’s many times great grandmother had wanted to turn the great hall into a luxurious and rich room--a far cry from the stone and dark wood that their kingdom was built from. The Grandfather had told her that he needed the hall as a comfortable place for citizens to meet and eat, so he built her the grand ballroom in compromise, allowing her to fill it with the luxuries that she craved while the hall was left untouched.

The atmosphere of the room was loud and jovial as Guards sat on benches and tables checking out their new brothers and sister. The tables had been cleared from the middle of the room and the newest recruits and their parents were sat on three rows of benches where everyone could gaze upon them.

“Yeah Mattie!”

“Knew you’d make it!”

“What are you wearing?!”

Mattie grimaced at the catcalls as she led the way to the empty seats in the last row. She smiled at David who was no longer guarding her mother’s room.

“Alright, alright fellows. Quiet down. We’re all here now, so let’s get started.” Captain Christensen turned to the crowd, “And no interruptions from the peanut gallery--if I forget something, wait until I ask for questions.”

“Who’s the girl?!” someone shouted.

“Her parent looks familiar. Is he in the acrobat troupe?” someone else called.

“Very funny, numbskulls. Yes, for anyone who doesn’t know, the young lady in pink is our own princess Matilda and if anyone thinks she got in because of her pedigree, I’ll break all the rules and say that she held her staff the longest in the second test. So, no complaining to me that she doesn’t belong.” If he threw a look at Wilhelm, it was very quick.

“And no--that’s not an acrobat. That’s your king; show some respect.” He was nearly drowned out by more cheers. Mat looked at King Otto who sat on the other side of her father, but he shook his head at her raised eyebrow. She had to respect the king who was happy to remain anonymous.

The men quieted down at a glare from Christensen. “Now if you men don’t mind, I’ll tell you who else will be joining us this year. Stand up as I call your name. Karl. Jon. Walter. Mark. Christopher. Michael. And Wilhelm. Okay, you can sit again.”

Mat noticed that Christopher and Jon sat next to Captain Andersen, obviously orphans. Walter sat next to a plump woman who was crying, though the tears seemed happy as she kept hugging her son. Karl was next to a large, unsmiling man while Mark and Michael sat between two thin women who could easily be sisters. Wilhelm shared a bench with another unsmiling man, though their relationship seemed odd. Both kept turning to look at Mat and her father.

“Alright. Now for the important information,” Captain Christensen continued. “Training is every day save Sunday. At seven, you will report for breakfast with your class here and you will work until four in the afternoon unless you do something stupid.

“Your education will include weights and endurance exercises including basic staff work in the morning and reading, writing, mathematics and history in the afternoons. If you don’t perform to satisfaction in all areas you will be dismissed from the program. If you make it to your second year, you’ll learn archery, knife skills, sword, and hand-to-hand combat. Your formal education will continue, but will focus on what you can learn on your own time.

“Dance lessons will start your fourth year. In your fifth year you will choose the rest of your curriculum based on your skills and interests and you’ll shadow older guards to learn your post. Once you’ve completed your eighth year, you’ll complete a final test and then you can call yourself a Guard.

“Parents, so long as you do not interfere, you can watch any of the outdoor training. I don’t take kindly to meddling, no matter who you are.” He glanced at Frederick, who nodded in return.

“Your children are expected to stay one out of every four weeks in the barracks. Since we have a lady joining our ranks, I’m having changing closets built onto the building--use them. If anyone needs permanent housing in the barracks, speak to me and I’ll get you situated. Curfew is ten at night for all trainees and will be strictly enforced whether you live in the barracks or with your parents. There is no drinking inside the barracks, no drinking while on duty, and no drinking at all if you’re a trainee.

“Tomorrow you’ll meet with the tailor to be measured for your uniforms. Three sets per year, take care of them because any more will come out of your pocket. Your pay is two silvers on the first of the month, but you’ll get one tonight.” Christensen consulted the paper in his hand. “That’s all I have. Are there any questions?” He paused to look around. “None? Good. I’m going to go see if Agnes has dinner ready.”

Mat was surprised that the meeting went as quickly as it did--she’d hidden in the corner the year before and the parents had asked dozens of questions demanding to know everything from potential injuries to what dances the boys would learn. To his credit, Captain Christensen answered each question with patience, and even made two guards demonstrate their dancing ability.

She watched Christensen walk to the door leading to the kitchen. Agnes was leaning against it and she gave him a sweet smile as he approached and Mat saw his usually blank expression soften as he thought no one was watching.

He said something and Mat watched Agnes’ face light up with laughter as she playfully smacked his arm. He took a step closer to her and bent to whisper something else into her ear. Mat expected her to blush, but instead she turned and fled into the kitchen. She thought he’d look upset, but the opposite was true. He was laughing until he turned back towards the room, where all the humor fled his face, his eyes darting around to check that no one had seen him show such an uncharacteristic expression.

“I keep telling him marry her.”

Mat turned to look at her father. “I thought I was the only one who knew about them.”

“Honey, everyone knows about Harold and Agnes. He likes to pretend that it’s a secret, but even the blind man who sells eggs knows about them. We just all refrain from telling them that we know.” He sighed and shook his head.

“Why haven’t they married?” Mat asked, curiously.

“He says that he will never marry again no matter how he feels.”

“He was married before?” She was shocked.

“Yes. She was his childhood sweetheart and they married as soon as he completed Guard training. She got pregnant soon after, but both she and the baby were lost during the birth. He was devastated and threw himself into the Guards.” Frederick seemed to suddenly realize who he was talking to and grimaced. “But I didn’t tell you that.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep it to myself. I respect both too much to mention it to anyone. Plus Agnes would probably cut me off.”

“Cut you off?” King Otto asked.

Shoot, Mattie thought. “Well, I um. Agnes always has something available that I can snack on,” she finished quickly.

“I see.”

Chapter 3

Mattie watched as her classmates helped move the benches and tables back to their usual places. She looked down at her dress and sighed.

“It’s okay Mat, we’ll make sure you work later,” David murmured as he passed her with a table.

“No, it’s not okay. I’m not an invalid,” she grumbled.

“Of course not. You’re just garmently challenged with a mother who will ring your neck if you tear that dress,” Frederick smiled down at his daughter and hugged her shoulders. “They aren’t going to hold it against you dressed like that.” He glanced towards the kitchen door. “Ah, there’s Agnes’ crew with dinner.”

“I thought we were eating with our guests,” Mat nodded towards King Otto who’d moved to chat with a few of the Guards.

“Otto would prefer to eat with the Guards. He hates formal functions as much as you do. Beatrice told him that we could eat here so she could spend more time catching up with your mother.”

Mat couldn’t believe her ears. “Then why the hell am I wearing this stupid dress?!” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Language, Mattie. Your mother’s rules and you know it. Besides, you will dress in this manner for all your interactions with the Guards outside of actual training, so you might as well get used to it,” he said sharply.

Mat inwardly flinched at the testiness she heard in his voice. “Sorry about my language. I’ll try to keep my complaints to myself in future.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a smile. “Now let’s go fill our plates before the Guards eat everything.

Mattie knew she was in trouble as she followed her father to the table laden with food. She was glad that she’d be able to eat her fill, but the odds were good that her dress would not survive the meal unscathed.

She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She wasn’t necessarily a klutz, but whenever it came time to eat, she was all elbows. On one occasion she’d somehow managed to flick a spoonful of peas over the heads of three dignitaries only for them to land on the ambassador from Weiher. Luckily the man had a great sense of humor and spent the rest of the dinner trying to figure out the trajectory on how she’d missed the rest of the diners.

It wasn’t that she was a slob when it came to eating, in fact she was very careful to take small bites and to reach slowly, but nearly every night something would happen and there’d be butter on the ceiling or gravy on her hem. She sighed and reached for a plate.

“Nice dress.”

She looked up to see Wilhelm across the table, scowling at her.

“What is your problem?” she asked as she placed two slices of bread on her plate.

“You should be spending your time sewing and thinking about raising babies, not playing around with men’s work.”

Mat frowned at her father’s back. Not because he hadn’t said anything to Wilhelm. She appreciated that. No, she frowned because the lines down both sides of the table were moving so slowly there was no way to escape her classmate’s rudeness.

“I’m not playing Guard. I’m just as good at it as any of you boys and if I wasn’t, Captain Christensen would toss me out quick, same as any other trainee. So you just need to get off your high horse and accept the fact that I’m in your training class.” She added another slice of venison to her plate and because she was suddenly in a terrible mood, drowned it all in gravy, her dress be damned. She decided to forego any vegetables or desert and stepped out of line to eat in peace.

Of course, she couldn’t go off to the dark corner where she usually hid, not with King Otto to entertain. Her father wouldn’t have minded, and truth be told, she thought that Otto would understand as well, but she was her mother’s daughter and would not be rude.

Damn him, she thought. It wasn’t like she’d never heard such comments, but usually the men who made them shut up as soon as she showed them that she was just as strong and determined as the boys. And damn my mother’s insistence on politeness.

She’d wanted to make a comment on the fact that she knew Wilhelm was well past the age of twelve. She didn’t think she’d seen him try out in the two years prior, but even if he hadn’t, being the oldest wasn’t something he’d want publicized. In the Guards, the better you were was only as good as how young you were. Youth was not frowned upon. In fact it was encouraged that Guards show their worth early

At just barely ten, she was the youngest of their group and if she was able to beat the others at her age and size, there was no way they’d ever catch up. Wilhelm, as the biggest and oldest, had to be at the top of the class or his pride would never recover. She thought that was the reason he was so rude to her, but replying to his comments with questions about his abilities would earn her a sharp frown, and possibly a sharp whack, from her mother.

Mat let her plate hit the table a little too hard and some gravy sloshed over the edge. She wiped a bit off the rim with her finger and stuck it in her mouth before remembering where she was and what she was wearing. She glanced around and was relieved that if anyone had seen her actions, at least they weren’t staring.

◙◙◙

“Are you okay?” Frederick sat across from his daughter and eyed the plate full of gravy.

“Yeah.” She loaded her fork with a large mouthful of bread, venison and gravy. Frederick watched the gravy drip thickly onto the plate and was amused to see Mattie sigh and set it down in favor of a spoon. By using the edge of the plate to wipe the back of the spoon she was able to eat more or less without incident.

“Are you mad at me for not speaking to him?” he asked, taking a bite of venison himself.

“No, I’m glad you ignored him. That would just have made things worse. I have to deal with this on my own.”

Frederick didn’t like to see his daughter upset, but he knew he couldn’t smack Wilhelm for being an ass even if he wasn’t his best friend’s son. In fact, Frederick was sure Otto would wring Wil’s neck himself if he’d heard him speak to Mattie that way and he wouldn’t hold it against Fred for correcting the boy’s manners.

When Otto had written to him about his youngest son’s future, Frederick had assumed boy’s parentage would be common knowledge. But Wilhelm had wanted to be judged based on his own merit not that of his parents and now Frederick was going to have a stern conversation with him on the meaning of irony. And respect.

“What’s with the frown?” Otto asked, taking a seat on the bench next to him.

Frederick watched Mattie shovel more of her dinner in her mouth, ignoring the room around her. “Your son,” he murmured so to not catch her attention.

Otto sighed. “What did he do?” he asked, also keeping his voice low.

“Told her she’s not fit to be a Guard.”

“I’ll have a talk with him. I don’t know what’s changed. He’s always been a polite boy.”

They watched as Mattie turned to look at the table her classmates had gathered around. She only watched them for a second before she glanced at her father. Her slight jump at seeing Otto eased Frederick’s worry that she might have overheard. Even with Wil’s poor attitude, it seemed unwise to tell her of his royal status.

“Sorry, sir. I’m afraid I didn’t notice you sit down.”

“That’s alright. Um. You seem to have gravy on your shoulder.”

She sighed and mumbled, “Of course there is gravy on my shoulder. Why shouldn’t there be gravy on my shoulder.”

 Frederick hid his smile, my poor daughter with food issues. He silently handed her his napkin.

They finished their meal quietly and Mattie volunteered to take their dishes to the basket Agnes left in the room to keep everyone out of the kitchen. To get there she had to pass the boys’ table where Wil was sitting at one corner.

Frederick saw his foot, but didn’t have time to warn Mattie before she went sprawling.

The room went completely silent except for the metallic sound of a plate coming to rest against the stone floor. Then there came the muffled chuckles as some of the men tried in vain to hide their laughter.

Mattie lay prone on the floor for a full minute and Frederick began to worry that she’d seriously hurt herself before she slowly rose to her feet. Somehow, even though the plates had flown from her hands, the front of her dress was ruined by a large blot of gravy.

Frederick wondered how she would respond to Wilhelm’s prank. He wanted to grab the boy by the ear and toss him into the dungeon for the night and a glance at Otto said that he’d make sure his son wouldn’t be able to sit for a few days.

Mattie, it seemed, was debating the proper punishment for her tormentor and Frederick almost thought she was going to let it go without incident as she walked to the serving table. But no, she picked up the bowl that still held some congealed gravy and brought it back to where Wilhelm sat waiting.

“He should have run,” Otto murmured in his ear.

Frederick nodded as he watched his daughter smile sweetly before turning the bowl upside down over him.

Wilhelm stood up, but he seemed hesitant to retaliate further with their fathers present. He looked down at her and said something with a snide smirk that Frederick couldn’t hear. He saw Mattie’s eyes go wide for a moment before she replied and turned to pick up the fallen plates.

“I wonder what she said to him,” Otto said as they stood to walk back to Frederick’s office.

“We’ll find out shortly,” he replied as they stopped just outside the room to wait for Mattie.

She appeared shortly, her dress damp where Frederick assumed Agnes had tried to help her with the gravy.

“What did he say?” he asked, a bit more tartly than he intended.

“Oh, just that it was a girly move to dump gravy on him and that if I was a real Guard I would have hit him or something.”

“And you told him what?”

“I reminded him of Captain Christensen’s warning this morning about hitting while not in training and that I wasn’t stupid enough to risk my chances over spilled gravy. Then I told him he’d best be wary on the training field tomorrow.” She gave a genuine smile.

“Are you planning anything?” Frederick was a bit worried she might go overboard.

“Just that if I get the opportunity to hit him with my staff I will. He can’t complain about it to the captain without looking like a pansy, so he’ll probably come at me in some way and if there’s no one around, I’ll fight him for real.” She paused and looked up at her father. “Unless you’d rather I handle this some other way.”

Frederick sighed. He didn’t want his daughter fighting. Not because he didn’t think she could handle herself, but because she was going to end up with bumps and bruises from it no matter what. But he fully supported her decision to become a guard and he knew the only way she’d succeed is if she did this on her own. She wasn’t going to be his little girl forever and if she was going to be a strong queen he couldn’t always fix her problems, no matter how much he’d like to.

“Do as you must, but the consequences are your own. And don’t break him. Or yourself for that matter.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Chapter 4

Most of the boys grumbled about the seven o’clock breakfast Monday morning, but Mattie was used to it. Sleeping late was not conducive to spending as much time away from her mother’s sitting room as possible and waking early meant spending more time watching the Guards train.

“Are you going to eat that?” Walter asked, pointing at the boiled egg on her plate.

“Yes, but I’m sure Agnes will give you another if you ask nicely.” She’d already eaten two, but it’d been awhile since the bread and cheese she’d snacked on before bed.

“The way she waves around that rolling pin? No thank you. I’d rather go hungry.”

“She’s not mean. She just waves the rolling pin to make sure people do as she says. She doesn’t like people to leave her kitchen hungry.”

“I’m surprised there’s still food available the way you two eat.” Wilhelm sat down across from them.

“You’re late,” Mattie informed him, ignoring his comment.

“I had something to do before I got here. And don’t touch the food on my plate. I’ve seen pigs eat less than you do.”

Mattie didn’t deign to answer him. She’d shove every single one of his words down his throat during training today and every day after that until he learned to respect her. So instead she rolled her eyes at him.

“Hurry up and get outside,” Andersen called from the table he shared with the other trainers. Each age group was assigned to a different pair or trio of instructors and Captain Christensen had been in charge of the first years for the past thirty years. Everyone knew Andersen was only training first years as a stepping stone to being in command of all Guard training, but that wasn’t being held against him. If he wasn’t suited for the work, no one would let him continue with it.

Mattie stuffed the last of the boiled egg into her mouth before standing to take her plate to the basket next to the kitchen. She followed the rest of the trainees out to the patch of grass outside the kitchen, lining up with her classmates to wait for their respective Captains.

The Guards of Nordengland used a simple ranking system. There were the Trainees and their trainers were Captains. Once a trainee became a Guard, that was his title until he earned a command role. The Chiefs were in charge of their respective divisions and there were two Commanders reporting to King Frederick: that of Training and that of Defense. The Guards served to police the kingdom as much as they did to protect their royals and most Guards spent their first five years simply patrolling their division to keep the peace and learn the habits of their neighbors.

Captain Christensen walked up, inspecting their lines before ordering them to the enclosed practice field. “Ten laps.”

Mat enjoyed running and she set out at an easy pace. Usually she sprinted to get wherever she wanted to be faster, but when she’d decided to become a Guard she knew she’d have to practice long distances. She found that it was an excellent time to plan her escapes out of the castle walls.

Mattie sighed as she rounded the fence to start her fifth lap. She saw Walter ahead of her. She’d passed him at the start so she sprinted to catch up with him.

◙◙◙

“Hey.”

Walter nodded to Mattie, panting too hard to speak. He was slightly confused when she started telling him the story of trying to keep a rabbit in her room when she was five. All had gone well until a queen visited and brought her annoying lap dog. The rabbit got loose, the dog smelled the rabbit, the soup ended up on the queen, and Mat spent the next two weeks scrubbing castle floors.

Her story entertained him enough that he forgot some of the pains from running. He hated running and he’d never been athletic. When his mother insisted he try out for the Guards he thought she was crazy, but he did it anyway, surprising himself when he passed. He wasn’t sure how well he’d keep up with the others, but he’d try. The alternative would be trying to find a place at his uncle’s bakery and as much as Walter enjoyed eating, he hated to bake.

Walter was pretty sure that the princess was one reason his mother had asked him to try out. He’d seen Mattie at the bakery often enough the past couple of years, but he’d never talked to her. She was nice, of course, but still a princess.

After the story of the rabbit and the queen, she went on to tell him about how she and her sister nearly caused an ambassador to have an aneurysm when he didn’t realize there were two of them wandering the castle.

“We didn’t know what was going on either,” Mattie said, laughing. “He kept asking me about stuff he’d talked to Hil about and then Agnes ended up serving him two boysenberry tarts for dinner because we’d both said he’d requested them. Poor man. But now Dad knows to mention the twin thing immediately to guests.”

They rounded the fence to start Walter’s last lap and he didn’t have the heart, or the breath, to mention that he knew she should be finished. They passed the captains and the rest of the boys. He was surprised Christensen just nodded for him to finish and didn’t yell at Mattie to leave him to it.

She would have been the first one done, but instead she’d kept him company, letting the rest of the class pass them while he trudged along, trying to keep his feet moving. He was tired, winded, and his side was starting to hurt, but he didn’t feel that Mattie was trying to take pity on him. He knew she wanted him to succeed as much as she wanted to be the best.

“Wilhelm’s glaring at me again.”

Walter grunted in agreement. Everyone knew that Wil didn’t like Mattie, but no one knew why. He figured it was his pride since he focused entirely on the fact that she was a girl and not because she could handle herself on the practice field.

The rest of the guys couldn’t help but like her, though they hesitated to stand up against Wil for it. Only Christopher was taller, but it wasn’t by much and he lacked the necessary muscle. And they hated to admit that they didn’t like Mattie quite enough to ask her to defend them from Wil’s fists—there’s only so far a guy is willing to go.

They finished the last lap and it took everything Walter had not to flop onto the ground and refuse to move. Andersen handed him a flask of water that he took a deep, but slow drink from before handing it to Mattie. Her cheeks held a slight flush while he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest.

No one mentioned how long it’d taken him to finish and he appreciated that. From what he’d gathered so far, as long as he improved, he’d be fine.

Christensen led them to the armory. “I want you all to look around. These will be the tools of your trade. For now, as you’re all still growing, you’ll use these shared weapons. They’re ordered from lightest and smallest to heaviest and largest, so choose accordingly. When you become Guards, you’ll be fitted with a personal set of armor and the weapons of your choice made specifically for you.”

The stone building was roughly forty feet square with a low roof. Wooden shelves lined the back wall and rain barrels covered the floor with barely enough room to move between them. The barrels were used to store the mass of pikes, spears, bows, swords, and staves. The shelves held their armor as well as a box filled with bowstrings. One wall held their shields while another held quivers full of arrows. Christensen had them to each choose a staff.

 “All right, gather around in a circle,” Christensen instructed. “Hold your staff in both hands, about shoulder width apart from the center. Step back so that you have enough room to move without hitting your neighbor.” When he’d decided that they were spaced adequately, he showed them how to set their feet to maximize their stability. “You want to keep your feet about shoulder width apart with your dominant side slightly ahead of your other with your knees bent slightly. This way, you won’t tip over when you get hit.”

He had Andersen stand incorrectly while blocking a blow to the top of his head and they saw how he wasn’t able to maintain his posture, instead having to step to the side to maintain his balance. After he readjusted into the proper technique, Andersen showed that not only could he accept the blow without moving, but by subtly shifting his hips as he moved his staff upwards, he could shove his attacker’s staff aside and regain an advantage.

“Now, the two other basic blocking techniques are very similar.” He showed them how to shift their staff to either side to block attacks from that direction. Again, he emphasized the importance of not only getting the staff into the proper position, but in having their stance set to properly be able to maintain their balance. “Remember, it’s not about having a stance that is immobile; it’s having a stance that allows you to quickly adjust and keep your center.” He had Andersen stand with his knees locked in what would be a stable position if his attack came from that direction. When the attack came from the opposite direction, Andersen was left scrambling to keep his feet. “Keep your knees bent with your hips in line and you’ll be able to withstand any attack.” He and Andersen went into a short bout that illustrated this point.

He showed them the form he wanted them to practice, moving from guarding their left, to above their head, to the right and the reverse without stopping. Christensen and Andersen moved amongst them, correcting stances and staff position as necessary.

An hour later, Walter’s arms felt like they were about to fall off. Wil, Christopher, and the others looked like they needed to sit down. Mattie, at least, looked a little sore.

“You have ten minutes to break then come back here. Make sure you drink plenty of water.” Christensen didn’t waste words and the boys didn’t waste time putting their staves back into the rain barrel they’d come from and circling the water bucket provided for them.

 “I think I’ve finally got enough breath to speak to you now,” Walter said, as Mat joined him. He filled one of the wooden cups and handed it to her before filling one for himself. He sighed in contentment as the cool water cleared his parched throat.

“That’s fine. I remember when I first started to run long distances and about halfway through I’d just fall over and stare up at the sky for awhile. We don’t have that luxury here, unfortunately.”

“Thanks for the stories. They really helped me keep my mind off the running.”

She shrugged. “It’s why I did it.”

“It also helped that you got to run an extra lap and show the rest of us how fit you are.” He smiled at her to say he wasn’t bothered by that reason.

“Only stupid Wil needs to learn that lesson. God he’s such an ass.” She kicked at a small rock hidden in the grass.

“It’s his loss. Period.”

Christopher came over from where he and the other boys were gathered. “We’re planning on watching the play after lessons tonight. Do you want to come, Mattie?”

She groaned. “I can’t. I have about six other lessons on how to be queen that I’ve promised to attend. I only have Sunday afternoons off. Sorry.”

Christopher shrugged. “You’re a princess. Seems only fitting that you’d have more classes. We’ll be spending plenty of time bonding anyway.” He glanced towards the others before continuing. “We’re placing bets on what Wil does first when we have barracks duty. He’s keeping mum on it.”

Mattie rolled her eyes. “I’ll be prepared.”

The rest of the morning was spent practicing the defensive motions and when Christensen finally released them for lunch, Walter felt like laying down and refusing to get up for three days. His arms felt like lead. Once he got to the dining room, with no small amount of encouragement from Mattie, he could barely find the energy to eat, dredging his bread in the bowl of stew to lessen the amount of chewing required and trips to his mouth with his spoon.

“Shall I take my sewing to our classes this evening so I can poke you awake with my needles?” Mattie grinned, shoveling her second bowl of stew steadily into her mouth.

“No.” He was too tired to form any more of a reply, which Mattie seemed to find hilarious.

Their first afternoon of school was bearable. Andersen was there to supervise while they listened to the tutor explain the curriculum and hand out the tests to determine each of their skill levels.

Everyone was surprised when Jon, a small, unassuming fellow, finished his tests first and was permitted to leave early. Wil finished not far behind. Mattie seemed to be taking her time and Walter assumed it was because she knew finishing early wouldn’t keep her from her other lessons, so she might as well get the highest grades.

Walter found the tests to be straightforward. He’d been average in school so far and he was sure he’d do the same here. When he finished the test, he left Mattie, Christopher and Mark still hunched over their papers.

◙◙◙

“No, no, no!” Francoise Ruchames shouted later that week. Mattie stepped away from David, wondering what she’d done wrong this time.

This was her least favorite lesson—dancing. She sent an apologetic look to David, sorry that he’d been wrangled into being her partner that day having appeared in the wrong place at the wrong time. One rumor was that guards only received formal dance instruction so that the multitude of females born into the royal family would always have a dancing partner.

“Keep your back arched elegantly. You’re standing like a pole!” Francoise’s accent and exuberant nature led most people to believe that he was a dandy. Mattie knew the truth and had felt the whack of his cane across her back just that morning.

She sighed and tried to arch her back as she knew he wanted, but trying to keep her head and stomach forward while pushing her shoulders back was more tiring than a morning spent swinging a staff. She felt off balance, which she had a sinking suspicion meant she was in the wrong position. But Francoise wasn’t very good at explaining proper posture, hence the use of his cane.

“Here,” David said, stepping close. He nudged her feet into a comfortable stance before taking her waist with both of his hands. “Lean back as far as you can comfortably. I’ll hold you up.”

“What are you doing?!” Francoise shouted, noticing their defection.

“I’m showing her how to get her weight balanced. She doesn’t trust her body.” Mattie smiled gratefully at him. All her previous dance partners had been as anxious as her for the lessons to end and none had taken the time to help her understand such foreign concepts as box step, heel turn, or free spin.

Mattie set her right hand lightly on his shoulder while reaching out in what she figured was an elegant manner with her left. She’d learned enough to establish that her hands only purpose in dancing was to read her partner’s intentions—holding on for dear life got her nowhere.

Confident that David would not let her fall, she leaned backwards as far as she could shifting her weight purposefully to swing off balance and concentrating on the point in which she felt the most stable, just as she did while spinning her staff every morning.

“There!” Francoise exclaimed swinging his cane over his head. Mattie and David laughed; they’d finally reached a consensus on her posture. “Now let her go boy! Really, it’s quite shameful the way you grasp her so.”

Mattie rolled her eyes. David was ten years older than her—practically an old man!

Francoise called for the lone violinist to begin the simple melody and began to count out the steps. David led her slowly around the ballroom, trying to hide his winces whenever she stepped on his feet.

The ballroom was an exhibit of opulence. The honey colored wooden floor had been set in a crosshatched pattern and had been waxed and polished into a reflective surface. Floor to ceiling glass doors and windows framed by dark gold curtains led out to the garden, letting in natural light during the day whilst up above a dozen chandeliers, masking their mass and strength behind dainty ironwork, would brighten a ball even to the earliest hours of the morning. The walls had been covered in dark blue brocade; the ceiling painted by a master artist to illustrate their traditional childhood tales:

The young girl haunted by the great bear. The evil queen vanquished by the patient seamstress. The old man teaching his grandson how to weave. The ball where the mouse danced with the cricket next to the dragonfly and the sparrow. And Mattie’s favorite, the shooting star streaking across the room to pair the young shepherdess in one corner with the baker in the other.

◙◙◙

Mattie was concentrating so hard on her steps, she did not see the small crowd gathered at a window to watch her dance.

“Why’s she dressed up?” Mark asked, shoving some popped corn into his mouth.

“Her mother’s insistence, I heard” Walter said taking some corn for himself. Mattie was wearing a shimmering blue gown with long, full sleeves; her hair in its customary braid down her back. David stood a foot and a half taller than her, though his thin frame lessened the amount that he appeared to dwarf her. “Her mum thinks it’ll help her learn to be more careful if her gown is expensive. I’m not sure how that’s working.” They watched as she stumbled after stepping on the hem.

“How do you know so much?” Michael asked, sipping some cider.

“Talking with a maid.” Walter said quickly.

“Ooh!” the boys jeered, Michael shoving him playfully.

Walter rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. Man, can you believe that we’re going to have to do that in a few years?” he said, changing the subject.

They watched as David’s hand left Mattie’s back attempting to guide her gracefully into a spin. She seemed to get lost for a moment, fully extended from her partner, before suddenly spinning in a quick circle. The dance instructor started waving his arms over his head dramatically, shouting something that sounded like, “chaotic hurl.”

“Eh. It doesn’t look too hard.” Mark reached for the cider in Michael’s hand.

“You should have gotten your own,” he said, yanking the bottle back.

Walter rolled his eyes again as the cousins rolled under a bush, hitting each other and returned to watching Mattie and David’s dance. The instructor seemed to have calmed for the moment, nodding his head in time with the music with only half a grimace marring his face. They’d almost completed a full circle of the room when somehow Mattie went spinning into the wall.

“Hahaha!” Walter turned around to see that Wilhelm had joined them in spying. The latter was bent in two, holding his stomach as he laughed. “She’s such a clutz!”

Walter narrowed his eyes. “Why are you here Wil?”

“I heard Mattie was dancing and figured it’d be good for a laugh or two. And I was right.” He wiped away a tear.

All they could see of her now was two white stockinged legs protruding from the bundle of fabric that had previously a curtain. Walter could imagine Mattie gently, or maybe not so gently banging the back of her head on the wall. There was slight movement at the top of the pile.

The dance instructor’s face turned a frightening shade of purple as he stormed out of the room while David and the violinist shared a look of composed amusement before moving to help Mattie out of the curtain.

◙◙◙

They were never going to let her live it down. A week after the disastrous dance lesson, the boys still took every opportunity to remind her of the

Chapter 5

Mattie sighed and let her forehead hit the table.

“What’s the long face for?” Hilda was sitting across from her in the library while they worked. Mattie had her history books spread around her while Hil looked over past accounting books.

“My plan to get back at Wil is stupid.” She’d stolen some pasta dough from the kitchen and planned to put it in his pillow.

Her sister groaned. “What’s he done this time?” she asked, closing her book.

“Nothing yet, but this Sunday is our first night in the barracks and I just know he’s going to do something big.”

In the month since they’d started Guard training, he’d done everything in his power to drive her insane. If she moved to pass him during laps, he’d stick his foot out to trip her. When they were finally allowed to practice blocking actual attacks, he purposefully partnered with her and aimed for her fingers. Of course, she’d retaliated with the same, but unfortunately hadn’t seen Christensen come up to them to watch her whack his fingers. She earned an extra lap the next morning for it.

“But not big enough to get kicked out. What’s your plan?”

Mat told her about the pasta dough.

“You’re right. That is stupid. Are you willing to make a stink bomb?”

“No. Christensen tanned the hide of the last boy to do that before kicking him out.” Mattie cringed remembering how angry he’d looked. Christensen didn’t express much emotion, but when he did and he wasn’t happy, it’s best not to be around. “The barracks was unlivable for a week.”

“Maybe if you got him outside of the barracks?” Hil stood up and began browsing a shelf next to the window.

“No, because everyone will know it was me and if it makes Christensen mad, he’ll still throw me out.”

“For someone who encourages Guards to settle their issues on their own, he sure seems strict on how they can go about it.” She set a new book on the table. “Let’s see what this has to say.”

Mat leaned over her shoulder. It was a diary from a great-uncle. “How’s this going to help?”

“It was written while Arnold was our age and he had three brothers. I’m sure he mentioned pranks a time or two.”

Mattie stared in awe at her sister. “What a clever girl you are.”

“Someone’s got to be the brains since you’re the muscle,” she said, grinning.

Mattie’s head jerked up as she eyed her sister. “Hey, I’ve got brains!”

“Not when it comes to subversion. You’re too nice, Mattie. Embrace that. Here’s one that Arnold used against our grandfather. He put sugar in his sheets and Grandpa ended up feeling sticky for three days. That should work.”

“But how do I put sugar in the sheets without getting caught?”

“Leave that to me,” Hilda said with a wink.

◙◙◙

With Mattie safely tucked in their father’s study Sunday morning, Hilda snuck into the barracks to complete the prank. She’d talked with Christopher and found out exactly which bunk was Wil’s as both were living there full time. He’d even left a leaf on the pillow so she wouldn’t disrupt the wrong person’s night.

Even though they were identical, most of the castle staff and Guards easily recognized the subtle differences between the girls. Being in the wrong, or right, place often made the difference in being caught or not. Since Hilda rarely ventured into the kitchen, Mattie had to be the one to steal the sugar as Agnes would have immediately known the difference, but with Hilda dressed in Mattie’s spare uniform, odds were good that no one would know the difference unless they knew Mattie was actually attending her diplomacy lesson.

She quickly peeled back his blanket and sprinkled the sugar liberally before carefully remaking the bed, taking the leaf with her.

As she made her way back to the castle so she could change back into her more customary dress, Hilda could understand why Mattie preferred pants to dresses. Having no desire to run and jump, she felt none of the constriction Mattie complained about, but her own choice of plain dresses was a practical one. She didn’t spend her time in dark passageways, but accounting ledgers carried their own amount of dust and ink can be just as dangerous as gravy to clothes.

“Mattie!” Hilda froze as she heard a dreaded voice.

“Ugh. Wilhelm.” She nodded gruffly to him, hopefully in a manner he’d expect from her sister, before turning to walk up the stairs to her room.

“Wait!” He ran and appeared ahead of her. She glared at him, but saw the frown cross his face. “Wait…you’re Hilda.”

“Do I look like Hilda?” she asked rudely, trying to push past him, her heartbeat quickening.

“Uh…yeah, of course you do.”

“Twin,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Wait!” he said again, grabbing her arm. “Why are you dressed like Mattie?”

“Because I am Mattie.” She rolled her eyes again and tried to pull away.

“No you’re not. Mattie has more freckles on her nose and she holds her mouth differently.”

“It’s kind of weird you notice things like that,” Hilda said, torn between her curiosity and a desire to protect her sister.

“Whatever.” He looked at the floor while he scuffed the toe of his boot on the stones. “Why are you pretending to be her?”

“Why are you looking for her?” she countered.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior this past month. It was wrong of me.”

The words Hilda almost blurted out would have landed her scrubbing duty for a month, so she bit them back. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious! I was being stupid and I now realize that I went about things the wrong way.” Hilda almost believed that he was repentant, but she knew too much about what her sister had been through to excuse him quickly.

“What do you mean you went about things the wrong way?”

“Well, I should have reasoned with her instead of teasing her.”

“About?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“About her quitting the Guards.”

“Explain yourself.”

“I don’t want her to get hurt, but instead of reasonably explaining why she should quit, I stupidly thought teasing and tormenting her would show her that the pain isn’t worth it.” He smiled condescendingly. “Where is she?”

“Probably plotting to kick your ass all the way to Holz,” she said, naming the kingdom a five day’s ride to the west. She looked around quickly to ensure no one had heard her swear. “How dare you think she’s not good enough to be a Guard?!”

“She’s a girl. I’ve been taught that girls deserve to be pampered and respected and how can I do that with her if she’s constantly putting herself in danger?”

“How can you respect her if you won’t allow her to be herself? Do you plan to sit on her to make sure she does her sewing?! Because Mother tried that and all she ended up with was a pain in her neck.”

She saw Wil almost let out a laugh, but he quickly reigned in his amusement. “I don’t feel right letting her leave training sore and with bruises.”

“Well she can take care of herself, so if you aren’t careful, she’ll be the one leaving bruises on you. Have you actually paid attention to her? Haven’t you seen that she’s the best in your class?”

“Yeah, I noticed, but she shouldn’t be.” He scuffed his toes again.

“And why not? Are you embarrassed that a girl is better than you?” She put her hands on her hips.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…she shouldn’t be getting hurt!” he shouted, holding his hands up.

“If you knew my sister at all, you’d know that bumps and bruises don’t bother her. In fact, they’re badges of honor to show that she’s actually done something.”

“So she likes being hurt?” He looked bewildered and took a step backwards.

“No. But if you knew her, a bruise here and there just means she has to try harder not to be bested the next time. To learn to be a little quicker, a little stronger. Give her time and you won’t be able to lay a bruise on her.” Hilda smiled to herself as she admired her sister’s gumption. “I’d advise you to lay off the tormenting, and the comments, and don’t even bother trying to reason with her—she’ll probably knock you across the head with her staff for the trouble.”

“I see.” He stepped back and turned to leave Hilda without saying another word. She let him and ran up to her room to change, deciding not to mention the rendezvous to Mattie.

◙◙◙

“You did it?” Mattie asked, cornering her sister before dinner.

“Yes. The sugar is in his bed and no one’s the wiser.”

“Good. I can’t wait to see what happens.” Mattie rubbed her hands together gleefully. She might not be able to plot, but she could delight in its execution.

 Hilda shook her head. They heard the clock tower strike the hour. “You’d better get to dinner so Christensen can get you settled into the barracks.”

“Okay, gotta run.” Mattie took two steps towards the dining hall before turning back to give her sister a quick hug. “Thanks for your help.”

“It’s what sisters do.” Hilda smiled and Mattie took off.

Normally the transition to stay at the barracks was informal and Guards would simply sign in at curfew and spend the night. Since this was their first night, most of the first years still needed to be assigned beds so Christensen had told them to meet for dinner.

“Alright lads, this section of bunks are for your monthly shifts.” Captain Christensen led them to the wall of the barracks furthest from the door. “You’ll share these beds with three others, so don’t leave any of your belongings. That’s rude and any items left can and will be tossed in the garbage heap.

“Before you leave, you’ll strip the sheets and the pillow case. Clean sheets can be found in the furthest closet in the back of the barracks,” he said, pointing. “Also back there are the closets I mentioned where you will change. The smaller one to the right is specifically for Mattie. Anyone caught improperly clothed will be tossed out,” he continued, voicing his favorite threat.

“Make your beds and unpack your things, then you have until curfew to yourselves. I’ll see you at ten.” He turned and left them to their night.

“Well, that was quick,” Mark said, dropping his bag onto a lower bunk.

Mattie looked around the barracks as she set her bag on the bunk above Mark. The room was set up with six rows of ten bunk beds, each bed three bunks high.

“Oh don’t tell me I’m going to be waking up to your face every morning.”

Mat turned around to see Wilhelm sitting on the bunk across hers, his arms crossed over his chest. Her eyes briefly flicked to the ceiling before she answered.

“You’re in luck. I sleep facing the wall.”

He slid to the floor stepping close to tower over her. “Leaving your back bared to your opponent isn’t very smart.”

She calmly met his eyes with hers. “Obviously, then, I’m not worried about whatever you may do.”

Mattie walked to the linen closet to get sheets for her bed. When she returned, she found her classmates discussing the evening’s plans.

“There’s a new sweet shop in town. If we leave now, it might still be open when we get there.” Michael said, wrestling with his pillow.

“Rosehaus is hosting a festival tonight,” Christopher supplied quietly.

“I heard about that.” Walter’s sheet slipped off a corner for the third time and Mattie, her own bed made, moved to help him. “Thanks. My uncle’s bakery is setting up a booth and I’ve heard that most of the shops are as well, including that new sweet shop.”

“Great! So that’s where we’re going?” Mark asked, swiping his hand over his blanket one last time.

“Sure,” all the guys, including Wil, agreed.

“Mattie? Can you come with us?” Walter asked, noticing her silence.

She wasn’t supposed to leave the castle grounds without her parent’s permission, but so long as she stayed in the parts of town closest to the castle, the Guards usually didn’t rat her out. Rosehaus was farther away than she usually ventured. “Um. Sure. I guess I can go.”

With everyone’s bed finally made and their things unpacked, they set out towards the festival.

Rosehaus was one of the three poor houses the first king Frederick had established to combat poverty within the kingdom. Open to anyone in need, they provided more than just shelter. Each haus offered paid employment to its residents, helping them to recreate their lives. Most residents were widows and orphans, but occasionally the son of a farmer would stay for a few weeks while searching for work in another industry.

The hauses were a central part of the community and their seasonal festivals were not only a fundraiser, but a way to reaffirm the important role that they played in keeping the kingdom safe.

“Walter! You came!” Mattie recognized the woman who wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as his mother. Up close she could see that they shared the same russet colored hair and light brown eyes.

“Yes, Mum,” he wheezed, trying to extract his throat. She released him suddenly and peered at the group of them.

“Oh, your highness,” she said, curtseying deeply when she recognized Mattie, her cheeks coloring slightly.

“There’s no need for that,” Mat murmured, nodding to acknowledge the curtsey. “Please, call me Mattie. Right now I’m just another Trainee.”

“Alright. Mattie,” she said with a slight trill in her voice. “I’m Mrs. Dumas, Walter’s mother.”

“Dumbass?” Mark whispered into Michael’s ear, just loud enough for Mattie to hear. She shot them a scathing look that they both ignored.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dumas.”

“Mum’s brother is the baker,” Walter cut in, pointing towards their stall.

“Oh!” Mattie clapped her hands recognizing the name on the banner as her favorite bakery. “I love their strudel!” She led the way to the stall and stood patiently behind the five people already in line.

“No, no. We can’t have Her Highness waiting in line,” Mrs. Dumas said loudly. The people in line and those within a twenty foot radius all turned to stare.

Oh God. Mattie winced before covering it with a small smile. “I insist that you serve those who are already ahead of me,” she told the bewildered baker. He glanced at his sister and Mattie saw him roll his eyes.

The woman at the front of the line refused to accept the marzipan she’d already purchased. Instead she tried to stand off to the side, clearly believing that Mattie should be served first. The rest of the line quickly followed her lead and Mattie, her stomach churning, quickly stepped ahead of them rather than cause more of a scene.

“I see you’ve met my sister,” Anton Sobel said softly to her as he handed her the apple strudel he knew she liked best.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” she replied, pulling a copper from her pocket. Anton made a great show of not accepting her money. They both knew that she’d pay for her purchase the next time she visited his bakery. When she’d first appeared in his shop the year before he’d recognized her immediately and told her that he could not ask her to pay for her treats. She told him that if he didn’t accept her money, she’d take her business elsewhere and threatened to end the contract he held to make pastries for the castle whenever they held a ball. He’d quickly agreed to her terms, impressed that a nine year old would speak in such a manner.

Mattie stepped from the line and gestured for the woman who she’d cut in front of to continue her transaction. Unfortunately, the woman had noticed that Mattie had not come to the festival alone and she made quite a fuss that the boys cut in front of her too so that Mattie didn’t have to stand around waiting for them.

They quickly made their requests, looking as embarrassed as Mattie felt. She saw that content smile on Mrs. Dumas’ face though, and knew that the woman was pleased to be associated with royalty. Walter, however, looked the most uncomfortable of them all.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Dumas,” Mattie said loudly as the boys crowded behind her. She noted Wil’s particularly relieved expression. “We must be going now. I’ll see you later.” And with that she quickly led her entourage away from the festival, her head held high.

“Where are we going? The festival is the other way.” Mark said, catching up to her.

“Quiet,” she hissed, turning left down an alley after they’d traveled two blocks. She stopped just beyond the corner and motioned for them to continue past her. She slowly looked back to make sure that no one was following them. “Okay,” she said, addressing them. “Now that people know that I’m here we have two options. Either we can circle around and hope that no one else recognizes me, in which case I suggest we break up into smaller groups, or I go home and the rest of you can have a good time.” She took a bite of her strudel.

“What are the odds of you being recognized?” Jon asked around his cake.

“It depends. Most people just ignore me, but every once in awhile someone gets overly excited.” She grimaced, “Sorry Walter.”

“Just so long as you understand that I’m in no way like her…” he said quietly.

“I know.”

Wil cleared his throat. “I think we should split into two groups.” He looked them over and made a parting gesture with his hands. “You all can be one group, we’ll be in the other.”

“Wait, you’re choosing to be in a group with Mattie?!” Mark sputtered. The rest of the boys also voiced their disbelief.

“Whatever. I just figure that I can guard her better than the rest of you.” He clenched his fists meaningfully and they all shut up.

“Hey. Mr. Sobel didn’t charge you all did he?” Mattie asked, looking around.

“No,” the boys said, some looking nervous.

“Cough up then. I’ll pay the next time I’m at his bakery.” She held out her hand expectantly.

“Are you going to pay?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course. I always pay.” She glared, pulling her coin from her pocket. She saw him eye her palm warily. “Look, I have no need to steal your money. But I’m not going to let you all take from him just because you’re with me. I’d tell Walter to take the money to Mr. Sobel right now, but I doubt he wants to see his mother again so soon and she might recognize any of the rest of you and drive you crazy.” She grimaced again, but Walter wasn’t fazed by her portrayal of his mother. “I visit that bakery at least once a week as it is and Mr. Sobel knows that I’m going to pay for my strudel the next time I go.”

“Here.” Wilhelm surprised her by dropping his own coin into her hand. “The rest of you, now.”

They all gave her their money for their treat and she slipped the change into her hip pocket. Then they walked back towards the festival using the parallel road, arguing about which group would get to do what when they reached their destination. Unable to come to an agreement, they decided to stick together.

“I just don’t want to skip the games!” Mark whined, unhappy that his group had tried to drag him to the shops first.

“We tried to tell you that you can go to the games later,” Wil explained for the fourth time.

“If we go to the shops first, I know it’ll be time to go back before we get to the games!”

Mattie rolled her eyes and walked faster, hoping to separate from the group anyway. There was a reason why she always ventured into town alone.

“Don’t walk so fast,” Wil grumbled, trying to keep up through the crowd.

“Why do you care?!” she asked, turning to face him.

“If you get lost or hurt, I’ll be in trouble,” he said, not looking her in the eye.

“Why just you? I’m here with the rest of them, too,” she prodded.

“I’m the oldest.”

“And I can take care of myself.” She took off again, wanting to play the ring toss game.

She handed over a copper in exchange for three rings. Aiming carefully, she was able to get her third ring around the neck of a small rag doll. She thanked the vender as he passed her the prize and gave him another copper.

This time she won a wooden ball.

Taking her prizes, she ventured to the next game.

“You aren’t the type to play with dolls,” Wil commented as he followed her. She glanced around but couldn’t see any of the rest of their group. She sighed and handed a copper to the next vender who challenged her shoot an arrow at a target twenty yards away.

Setting her doll and ball on the table before her, she carefully brought the bow up, aligning the arrow with the bullseye and started to pull back the string. It was heavy, obviously made for someone much stronger than her. She carefully released the string so the arrow was still in her hand and moved to set the bow down.

“What’s wron…?” Wil started to ask.

With one swift motion she pulled the bow back into position, using the momentum to pull the string and arrow back to her cheek while saying a quick prayer. The arrow flew straight and hit the target, but off the mark.

“Damn.” She looked at the second arrow waiting for her to try again. The vender looked surprised that she’d been able to pull the string back at all. The truth was that the string was beyond her ability. It was dumb luck that the arrow had gone as far as it did and she doubted that she’d be able to pull it back far enough again. Her left wrist stung where the string had snapped back to hit her.

“Do you want me to try?” Wil asked, guessing at her predicament with a smile.

“Have you shot an arrow before?” she snapped.

“No. But it can’t be that hard.”

She let out an exasperated sigh and gestured at the bow. “Go ahead.”

He was able to pull the string back with some difficulty, but Mat could see the arrow bobbing as he tried to aim it. She smiled smugly as she watched it fly, missing the target completely. “Not so easy, eh?” She picked up her toys and started to walk to the next booth.

“Your Highness?” the vender called out to her. She turned back, grateful that at least he’d spoken quietly enough that no one else heard.

“Yes?”

“Um…here.” He handed her a stuffed dog toy. “I never expected anyone your size to even be able to get the arrow to fly, let alone hit the target.”

She thanked him for his generosity and continued to the next booth.

“So you say you pay for everything you get, but you’ll take a toy you didn’t even properly win?” Wil asked snidely.

Mattie’s eyes flicked up to the sky and she refused to answer him.

The next game involved her picking a number at random in hopes of winning a prize. There was a large man already playing and she watched him lose five coppers before giving up.

“What are the odds?” she asked the vender, not yet ready to give him her coin.

“Fifty percent,” he said confidently.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, lifting her chin.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Alright then. I want number fifty-seven,” she said, finally handing him the copper.

The vender lifted the numbered box and there was a copper coin underneath. He set the box to the side before handing her the prize. She gave it back and chose number ninety-two. Inside was another ragdoll. She thanked him as she collected her winnings once again, the toys filling her small arms.

“Oh, you wanted him to know who you are, I see.” Wil commented as he followed her.

“Of course. It was a test to see if he was lying about the odds. It’d be very easy for him to replace the boxes that have already been chosen and enticing people to choose empty boxes.” She recognized a Guard and walked over to him.

“Hey Caleb,” she said, greeting the blond man.

“Mattie. You aren’t supposed to be this far out are you.” It wasn’t a question.

“No, but that’s beside the point. I was just at the numbered box game and I wanted to make sure that it’s not rigged. I chose the numbers fifty-seven and ninety-two and won with both. Will you make sure that the odds stay at fifty percent?”

“Sure. No problem." He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at her. “It’s getting a bit late, shouldn’t you be heading back now?”

Wil and Mattie looked towards Rosehaus standing regally at one end of the plaza, it’s clock tower off to one side. Standing three stories tall, it dwarfed the half-timbered homes and businesses surrounding it. They had forty-five minutes to get back to the barracks. “Yes, you’re right. Thanks for the warning.”

Caleb nodded his head and Mattie started walking towards the haus.

“Where are you going? We need to get back,” Wil huffed, still following her.

“You can go on without me, I’ll be there,” she said, not changing her course, almost bumping into a vender selling flowers.

He grabbed her arm, knocking the toys from her arms. “Like hell I can!”

She whirled around to glare at him. “Will you be quiet? I just need to do this before we can go back!”

She knelt down to pick her toys up from the cobblestones. The ball had rolled away and she was unable to find it amongst all the feet of the festival goers.

Wil did not apologize, instead handing the ball to her, having followed its progress back towards the game booths.

The doors of the Haus were open and Mattie stepped inside the foyer. The majority of the first floor consisted of the room used to cut and sew cloth. This haus was known for the beautiful dye work they did and the clothing that they created from it. The dyeing vats were located in the enclosed yard in the back, the process more or less kept secret with only long time residents having access to the knowledge.

“Hello Mattie. Did you have fun tonight?” The Elder, Verine, greeted her as she came out of her office. Verine was the current manager of Rosehaus, having once been a resident herself.

“Yes, ma’am. I brought you some toys for the kids.” She gave Verine all that she’d won that night.

“Oh thank you, my child. You’ve such a thoughtful soul,” Verine said, smiling widely.

“You’re welcome, Elder. I wish I could stay, but we have to get back to the barracks.” Mattie bowed and turned. She walked out of the building, leaving an open mouthed Wilhelm behind her.

◙◙◙

He couldn’t believe it. She’d spent nearly a quarter of her month’s wages on toys for the homeless children.

“Here.” He handed the Elder one of his silver coins. “Use it to buy the kids a treat.” He ran to catch up with Mattie before the Elder could speak.

“We have a half hour to get back so we’ll need to hurry.” She started jogging back towards the heart of the festival.

“What about everyone else?” he asked, easily keeping pace beside her.

“They know how to read a clock and we can’t waste what time we have looking for them when they might already be there themselves. If we see them, we’ll tell them; otherwise they’re on their own.”

“Right…Where are we going?” He saw that she was leading him not along the road that paralleled the castle wall, but on a course towards a small park in the opposite direction from the nearest gate.

“Short cut,” she said, nearly falling over a bush as she cut the corner too closely. She disappeared behind a hedge as she entered a maze at the center of the park and he struggled to keep up with her.

“Where are you?!” he called spinning around after taking a wrong turn and finding a dead end.

He heard her sigh loudly as she appeared ahead of him. “Hurry up!” She disappeared again, but he found her tucked behind the statue at the center of the maze. He stared in confusion for a moment before it was replaced by awe. The statue began to move, shifting to the side to reveal a deep hole. “Get in.” She pointed at the iron ladder bolted to one wall and motioned for him to climb down.

“How deep is that?” He eased his way to the edge of the pit.

“It doesn’t matter! Move!” She shoved him, but not hard enough to send him toppling and he cautiously lowered himself to the ladder. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he still felt some fear of the dark.

She followed him, pausing just long enough to tap something that made the statue move back into place and left the two of them in complete darkness. Wil stopped climbing and he let out a curse when Mattie’s foot tread on his fingers.

“Why did you stop? We’re almost at the bottom.” Her voice sounded thin to his ears.

“I don’t know that!” He could hear the panic just edging into his own and he took a deep breath to clamp it down. It felt like they’d climbed for hours.

“There should be a lantern at the base of the ladder. There’s only a few rungs left.” Her voice, while still thin, somehow sounded calm and reassuring and he carefully continued the journey, his body lurching dangerously when he hit the hard earth of the floor.

He felt blind and widened his eyes in a vain effort to locate even a speck of light. He heard Mattie’s feet touch the earth, but when he reached for her, he couldn’t locate her.

“Where are you?” his voice trembling against his will.

“Right here.” Her voice came from around his knee, but when he bent down to feel her, she wasn’t there. He felt sweat trickle between his shoulder blades and his heartbeat increased to a painful level.

“Where?” he asked again, his arms flailing to find some trace of her.

“Here.” She was starting to sound exasperated, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to die alone in this dark place. “Close your eyes.”

“What?!” He spun around wildly.

“Ouch!” He’d felt something and he reached down to grab her. “You jerk! You knocked the matches out of my hand.” He didn’t care. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “Let me go! We have to get back to the barracks.”

That was right. If they didn’t get back in time they’d be in trouble. He tried to focus on that thought, but with the darkness encroach upon them, it was all he could do to keep his grip on the struggling girl in his arms.

“Don’t leave me!” he choked as she somehow worked herself lose.

SLAP! His head jerked to the right as her small palm hit him squarely on the cheek, tears prickling his eyes. “Get a hold of yourself!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him along at a quick pace.

He couldn’t breathe. The walls were closing in on them; he felt them brush up against his shoulders on more than one occasion. He struggled to focus on the tiny warm hand acting as a lifeline in his larger sweaty one.

“Stop,” Mattie said after they’d run for days, but he still bumped into her small frame, instantly wrapping his free arm around her to remind himself that he wasn’t alone.

“You aren’t dying,” she said, primly stepping out of his embrace, but leaving her hand in his. “Reach out for yourself—touch the walls.”

He did as she said, using his free hand and was startled when his fingers felt nothing. He turned in a semicircle and still felt only the open air.

“See? This is a very large cavern, taller than even the Western Tower. Hear the way my voice echoes?”

Now that she mentioned it, her voice did sound strange, reverberating off the walls and ceiling high above. Wil was able to take a full breath for the first time in weeks. His knees shook.

“Are we almost there?” he asked weakly.

“Yes,” she replied kindly, squeezing his hand slightly, before pulling him off to the left.

She moved slower this time as though using her free hand to read the walls. Wil almost believed that she could see in the pitch blackness as she cautioned him about the stairs. The vertical climb seemed to take months before she told him to stop.

“I really need you to stand still this time,” she instructed evenly. “If you do that, we’ll be in the fresh air in a matter of moments. Go ahead and count to one hundred, if that helps.”

He started to count as soon as she released his hand. Before he got to fifty, the rock above their head began to shift and for the first time in years he could see the stars. Mattie stepped to the side as he bolted out of the hole, surprised to find himself in the formal gardens of the castle courtyard. He rushed to the hedge before bending over to vomit.

When he turned around to face the princess, she’d already instructed the statuary to conceal the passageway, and was looking at him passively.

“Go ahead and laugh,” he goaded, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Why should I? It seems that you’ve been through enough tonight.” She paused for a moment as though debating something. She sighed. “Don’t sleep in your bed tonight.”

“What?”

“I put sugar into your sheets and now I feel like a heel for doing that. So, sleep in one of the other beds, please.” She turned and started to run towards the barracks. He followed, for no other reason than he’d rather retain his place in the Guards.

Wil was surprised to see Mark and Michael also running to make it to the barracks before curfew. The clock in the Western Tower had just begun to chime when they pushed their way through the door.

Christensen was sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs by the door reading a book. He glanced up and gave a nod to the four of them. Wil stopped by the older Guards playing cards as he made his way to his bed. He watched as Commander Morley Scott lost more than a Trainee’s months pay to Captain Andersen on three jacks.

The barracks was filled with the usual chatter. Around a hundred and fifty men lived there at any given time, half of those living in the barracks fulltime. Derrick, a fourth year Guard, had told him how only the oldest Guards were allowed to sit in the stuffed chairs, and you had to be invited to play in the poker games held at the two tables seeming to exist solely for that purpose. He also warned him that gossip could travel faster in the barracks than it did in the maid’s quarters.

He was sure Mattie was telling the rest of the fellows all about his panic attack and he was in no hurry to face their torment. Surprisingly she was nowhere to be seen when he started down their row. He couldn’t see any difference with his bedding, but when he slid his hand under the blanket he could feel the fine sugar grains. He wondered if he would have noticed it had she not said anything.

“Hey, how did you two get back?” Michael had changed for bed already and was lying in his bunk playing with a small set of wooden soldiers, having them run skirmishes across his stomach and chest.

“We took one of Mattie’s shortcuts,” Wil said, taking his night clothes off his shelf before going to the closet to change. He wished he could go to the bathhouse and rinse the sweat off his body, but the rain barrel had to do for now.

“What are those?!” Walter stopped him as he returned to his bunk.

“Hmm? Oh. My pants? My father picked them up in his travels to Einöde.” He’d leave off the small lie about his father being a trader until someone asked. He was surprised by how surprised the people of Nordengland were by the garment, but they seemed to prefer their long nightshirts to a pair of loose pants tied at the waist paired with a long shirt. He shrugged, “they’re comfortable.”

He trailed off, suddenly distracted by the appearance of Mattie. Her long white nightshirt nearly touched the floor, just the tips of her toes peeking out from below the hem. A touch of lace at her collar and the sight shimmer to the fabric confessed that her mother had a hand in its choice. She was brushing her long hair and he was fascinated by the many colors reflected in the lamplight. Wil realized that he was staring and told himself that he did so only because she was talking to Mark and Michael.

“No. I’m not going to take you through the passageways.”

“Why not? You took Wil.” Mark was sitting up, his body twisted as he whined.

“It was an emergency. We weren’t going to get back in time otherwise.” She began to weave her hair into a braid. The Captain serving as Barracks Chief, a rotating post, called out the five minute warning before lights out.

“So if it was an emergency, you’d take us?” Mark asked.

Mattie sighed, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “Yes, if it were an emergency, I’d take you. Now, can we go to sleep?” She glanced at Wil, her eyes widening at seeing him climb into his own bed before narrowing into a frown.

He wasn’t sure why he was sleeping in his bed even while knowing that it contained the sugar. He supposed it was because it appeared that she hadn’t humiliated him for his panic and therefore deserved her prank to go through. It really was a good one, he had to admit.

“What are the passageways like?” Mark asked him.

“Dark,” he admitted, shifting slightly on the sugar. It wasn’t comfortable, but he’d live until morning when he would admit discomfort and let her win the match.

“I thought she kept lanterns in there,” Michael mused around a wide yawn.

“I forgot the matches,” Mattie chimed in. She’d climbed awkwardly into her bunk, trying to keep her legs covered. As she settled herself into bed, her eyes met his and she gave him a slight smile. It wasn’t a smile of gloating, but one telling him that she didn’t hold his fear against him. He nodded to her to say that he appreciated her tact. Then he rolled over to put his back towards her because even while she didn’t judge him harshly, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

The decades he’d felt pass down in the passageways couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. And then he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of her. It was hard to pretend he hadn’t been afraid when he’d clung to her like a small child.

He was glad when the Barracks Chief turned off the gas lighting their row first.