The Law of the Prince Charming

Chapter 1.1

Once upon a time there was a prince. Her name is Tabitha, but no one calls her that. She is the beloved Prince of Redstone, and she plays that role well. I have watched her much of her life, but the tale starts with a mythic and a visitor.

Another stone wall shatters as the stone ram charges haphazardly up the scarlet-lined hill toward the city.

"Are you sure you want to do this alone?" the Captain of the Guard asks as he hands a lance up to Tabitha.

"It is my duty. To protect the people of Redstone." Tabitha says because that is the proper response.

The Captain holds the lance for a moment. "The Queen is here." There are two figures standing on the hill above them, but Tabitha's attention is drawn by her mother, the Queen, who is watching her intently.

For a moment her confidence flags. Tabitha looks away quickly and the Gelding shifts uneasily under her. She knows what is expected of her. Tabitha readjusts her grip and lowers the visor on her helmet. "I can impress her." She whispers, turning the Gelding with a light touch.

Tabitha rides up to the line of guardsmen standing ready with spears, even though they know they can't do anything against the approaching mythic. They gratefully part to let her pass.

She signals the Gelding and he breaks forward eagerly. Tabitha stares out of the slit in her helmet as light gleams off her armor. Beneath her, the Gelding's strides eat up the ground in a thunderous symphony. The trees blur past like a firebird's wings.

The stone ram charges toward her. It matches her horse for size, its rocky hide the same color as the red-brown dirt trampled beneath its hooves. A confident smile blossoms on Tabitha's lips as she settles her lance into the crook of her arm. The point of the lance remains steady despite the Gelding galloping beneath her.

A crack echoes as Tabitha drives the steel tipped lance into the stone ram's forehead. For a moment the thick piece of wood attempts to buckle, before it punches through. The stone ram shatters. The edges of the broken pieces of rock blur as if drifting slightly out of focus, before each one collapses into a shimmering mist of magic.

Tabitha pulls the Gelding to a stop as the magic coalesces into a remnant in the form of one of the stone ram's horns. It falls to the ground with a soft thud. Tabitha gives the Gelding two firm pats of appreciation on his white, speckled neck as a guardsman hurries to her side. He accepts Tabitha's lance and helmet before she dismounts. The fall breeze pricks at Tabitha's black hair as it chills the sweat on her skin.

The Captain of the Guard retrieves the stone ram remnant and approaches to offer it to her. "Are you unharmed, my Prince?"

She takes the remnant. It is heavy in her hand, not because of its actual weight, but from the feeling of the magic within. "Yes, I'm fine. Make sure the damage caused by the mythic is repaired."

"Yes, my Prince."

Tabitha takes a deep breath and straightens her posture firmly. The Gelding walks beside her as she approaches the Queen.

The Queen's skin is flawlessly white, and her black hair flows around her head in tight curls; not a strand dares to be out of place. Her dress sweeps over her curves before falling to the ground in a cadence of deep red fabric. Her royal presence hangs in the air around her, reinforcing her authority.

Tabitha bows, her form rigidly perfect. "The mythic is defeated."

"Your technique has improved," the Queen allows. "But the mythic should not get so near to the city next time."

"Yes, Mother." Tabitha dips her eyes to the ground.

"Did you forget we have a guest tonight?" the Queen glances to the side and frowns. "Odd, he was here a moment ago. You did not prepare anything for the ball tonight, so I had a bath drawn for you and picked out your outfit."

"Yes, Mother." Tabitha has not forgotten, but the news of a mythic threatening the city had taken precedence.

"Now be a good prince and escort your mother back."

"I need to take care of the Gelding." Tabitha lays her hand on his neck.

"That's what servants are for." The Queen waves her hand and a guardsman appears. Tabitha reluctantly hands over the Geldings reins before she takes the Queen's offered arm and escorts her back to the castle.

Redstone Castle is perched on top of a hill surrounded by trees showing the brilliant red leaves of fall. The city spreads down the gentle slopes beneath the castle to the surrounding farmlands. The sun settles toward the upper ridge of the mountains that rise in the background.

The Queen deposits Tabitha outside her room. "Don't take too long getting ready." She glides away.

"Yes, Mother." Tabitha says to the empty hallway before she pushes her way into her room.

Servants help to remove her armor before she dismisses them. Tabitha takes off the padding and clothing underneath herself, revealing the feminine curves she always keeps hidden. After a bath, she replaces the cloth stripes binding her chest flat, and dresses in the finely-tailored white dress-tunic the Queen had picked out.

Tabitha walks to the bookcase holding her collection of fairy tales. She runs her finger along the well-worn spines until she reaches the one she is looking for. She pulls the book down and gazes at the cover where a prince sits astride his horse, gazing at a castle in the distance.

Life is so much simpler in fairy tales, with their predefined rules and happily ever afters.

It is the reason Tabitha still loves reading fairy tales, even into adulthood when most people give up on their simplicity. She likes to believe the Fae wrote the fairy tales to teach people how they should live their lives, despite the fact that the Queen had always insisted the Fae cared very little for humans except as amusement. It is unfortunate that the Queen's view of the Fae is far more accurate than Tabitha's.

Tabitha touches the book's cover with a sigh. "If I could just complete a quest like a prince from a fairy tale ...maybe then I would feel less like a fraud," Tabitha says to the book. The book, understandably, does not answer despite the wisdom in its pages.

There is a knock at the door.

"Come in," Tabitha says.

A servant appears through the doors, brandishing a pair of scissors. "The Queen sent me to trim your hair before the ball."

"Of course." Tabitha glances at the book before she slides it back into place.

"Your hair does seem to grow so quickly, Your Highness," the servant gestures her to the bench in front of the mirror. As Tabitha sits, the servant combs out a length of hair. Tabitha looks at her reflection; a proper prince looks back. The scissors close and the hair falls, like a black feather from the sky. Tabitha looks away from the mirror.