Dawn of Destiny (The Warrior Angels Trilogy - Book 1)

Chapter Four

Beatrice and Maribel were plucking white roses from the bushes surrounding the garden fountain when they were approached by the Queen's guard.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Sir Allister greeted, pausing to bow.

Beatrice sighed, holding the bunch against her chest. "Good morning."

"How do you fare?"

"I'm fine."

Maribel's face brightened. "Good morning, Sir Allister!"

Sir Allister chuckled and nodded to her. "It is lovely seeing you again, Maribel. Are you enjoying your day off from your studies?"

"Oh, yes!" She gestured to Beatrice. "We are gathering roses for Her Majesty. Princess Beatrice noticed the ones in her study were dried and dead."

"Mother needs a fresh batch," Beatrice muttered, suddenly feeling silly about this. Sir Allister didn't make it any better by laughing again. She knew that laugh too well. It was the kind most did whenever they found what she was doing cute. Because it was childish.

"That is very kind of you, Your Highness," he told her. "I was actually searching for her myself. Is she in her study currently?"

"She should be."

"Then I shall be on my way, but I also wanted to let you know that I have just returned with my son. He is beginning his official training tomorrow morning."

"Oh, how exciting!" Maribel answered. Beatrice did her best not to groan.

"He is ecstatic to meet you, Your Highness," Sir Allister informed. With that overly wide smile of his, she knew that simply wasn't true. And really, she couldn't blame his son for feeling indifferent about her. She also wasn't keen on the idea of having someone following her around the way Sir Allister followed her mother everywhere.

Nonetheless, Beatrice nodded. "Oh, how lovely of him."

This satisfied her mother's guard, who laughed once again and finally dismissed himself. Beatrice rolled her eyes and carelessly yanked another rose from the bush, pulling off various leaves in the process.

"You will hurt yourself if you keep doing it like that!" Maribel warned, already checking Beatrice's palm for scratches. "Why are you upset?"

"I would rather not have a guard," Beatrice irritably answered, freeing her hand from Maribel's tiny grip.

"Maybe it will not be so bad, Your Highness. Maybe he will become a great friend to you!"

Beatrice shook her head. "That is beside the point, Mar. I don't need someone protecting me. I can protect myself."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I can learn how to fight with a sword! It cannot be that difficult."

"But royals never learn how to fight," Maribel reminded her. "Why fight when you have people to fight for you?" Yes, that was the standard mindset for royals and nobles in Aristol, but it was quite preposterous having to depend on others. It seemed so weak; and Beatrice refused to be weak.

She handed her roses to Maribel and placed her hands on her hips. "I think that should change someday. I will prove to everyone that a princess can succeed with both her mind and her strength! When I'm bigger, that is," she added more quietly. "My hands are still too small." She held them up to Maribel.

Maribel covered her mouth as she giggled. "I like this idea, Your Highness!"

"You can do this with me, Mar. We can learn together."