I'll Protect You (Original Version)

The Greeks have their gods, we Cimerians have dragons

Park

Logan gulped nervously as we both turned back to the door. The scene was quite amusing. Everyone was always so scared to meet my parents. Except for Zen and Minnie, but they were practically raised like me, so they were used to eat. Birds of a feather flock together, or so everyone says. 

I lifted my fist and pounded heavily on the door. Ow. I cursed my ancestors mentally, thinking--who the hell uses this kind of freaking wood for a door? Did they want to permanently scar everyone's knuckles to the point of no possible recovery? And then I recalled that gloves were often worn....daily.

You know what, when I become queen, I should just ban fancy gloves. No one wears them except to royal balls, and let's face it, I'll probably never throw a ball in my entire reign. 

I noticed how Logan's eyes drifted towards the carvings on the large mahogany--or was it oak?--doors.  Knowing him, he was probably thinking how odd it was to have dragons carved onto the material. But no. Apparently, when the Cimerian kingdom was first created, dragons had a lot to do with their belief systems. 

You have your United Kingdom folks with their own religion, the Greeks and their gods consisting of Zeus and Poseidon and Hades, and the Romans with their Pluto and Jupiter and Neptune. And then you have Cimeria and their pride in dragons. Those mythical creatures were worshipped as much as gods back then. The Cimerian palace had so many emblems of them all over the place, it became natural for me to see a fire breathing sculpture of a dragon first thing in the morning. 

Most of you can probably tell why I'm so obsessed with mythology and fantasy, huh?

"Cimeria was often called the Dragon Kingdom because of how most of the citizens' natures were similar to that of a dragon," I said with a smile. "One of our myths is that if we carved a dragon on the entrance to our home, we would be blessed with their protection."

Logan shot me the weirdest look just as the doors were pulled open. In front of it stood our head butler, Alfred. Yeah, he had the cliché butler name too. My face split into a wide grin as I rushed forward and hugged him. This man used to sneak me extra hot cocoa during stormy nights even though my mother had declared it "fattening." 

Cocoa was not fattening. Hot cocoa with mini marshmallows and whipped cream was a slice of paradise served in a warm cup. My mother wasn't like me. She and I were clearly not birds of a feather.

"Princess! What a pleasure it is to see you!" he chuckled, awkwardly patting my back. Even after seventeen--almost eighteen--years of being hugged by me, he still found it "impolite" and "rude." So did most nobles who discovered that I actually did talk to "the servants." But hey, the nicer you were to your employees, the less likely it is for them to stab you in the back. 

"I'm finally back, Alfred!" I announced. Two years had passed since I had last stepped foot here. And despite the fact that my mother would soon send me on a shopping spree and then make me welcome guests to her wedding, I smiled again. 

I was home. 

"Logan, this is Alfred," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the threshold of the castle. Logan extended his hand as if to exchange greetings. Alfred merely stared at his palm before bowing deeply.

"Welcome to Cimeria, young Master Cross," Alfred said in a kind yet grave voice. "Please, lend me the honor of bringing your bags to your room."

Logan blushed furiously, obviously not used to being called such a respected title before. I almost snorted but realized it would be frightfully rude. Being the kind and empathetic person I was, I stepped in, saving Logan from his habit of stuttering.