Princesses Don't Fight in Skirts

by Aya Ling

  Contents

  PRINCESSES DON'T FIGHT IN SKIRTS

  One: The Spoiled Princess of Linderall

  Two: The Disastrous Journey

  Three: The Formidable Academy

  Four: The Horrible Lessons

  Five: Punished and Punched

  Six: Time to Train Seriously

  Seven: A Good Dress is Hard to Find

  Eight: The Royal Wedding

  Nine: A Suitor, at Last

  Ten: To Go or Not to Go

  Eleven: More Disaster

  Twelve: Back to Linderall

  Thirteen: A Real Battle

  Fourteen: The End... or Beginning?

  Afterword

  Other books by Aya

  Blurb

  Copyright © 2013 by Aya Ling

  No part of this document may be reproduced without written consent of Aya Ling

  One: The Spoiled Princess of Linderall

  Unlike her royal contemporaries, Her Royal Highness Princess Arianna Rosalind Cordelia of Linderall was quite content to be a conventional princess. While other princesses and noble young ladies were running away from arranged marriages to fight ogres and trolls, Ari preferred to stay indoors, curled up in a comfortable rocking chair, and taking her beauty nap.

  It wasn’t as if she didn’t try to stay up-to-date with modern princesses. When the sword master, Tobian, offered to coach her, Ari did not refuse. It sounded like fun to strike an intimidating pose and brandish a sword. But within five minutes of her first lesson, Ari whacked her own ankle when doing a downward slash. If she hadn’t been using a wooden sword with a blunted edge she might have cut off her foot. Still, the ugly bruise on her ankle was enough to make her put off the sword fighting lessons. Being a warrior maiden might be exciting, but she had no desire to risk any more limbs.

  Then the archery instructor, Johan, was summoned to give her lessons. At first, Ari amused herself fitting the arrows on her silver bow and releasing them. Shooting an arrow wasn’t as physically demanding as the sword work. However, the novelty soon wore off. Her fingers were getting sore and bruised from pulling on the linen string, and her shoulder was stiff and numb from staying in the same position.

  “I’ve had enough,” Ari said, tossing the bow back towards the instructor. “Thank you for the lesson. You may leave.”

  She called for her maid to prepare a scented bath. She could not wait to peel out of her sweat-soaked clothes and relax her weary muscles.

  After her brief contact with fighting, Ari concluded that she didn’t understand modern princesses. Why would one choose to risk life and limb to take on a dragon, when one could easily employ a knight or soldier to do the dirty work? Why would one elect to stand in the sun and swing a heavy sword, when there was the option of staying inside? It didn’t make sense.

  Ari tossed away the breeches and heavy boots, opting for long, flowing dresses instead. Breeches were tight and uncomfortable, and moreover, they looked unflattering. She would rather stay in the castle, sewing or spinning or whatever princesses had done in the past, than take up what modern princesses were doing.

  The king of Linderall did not interfere. After the queen died, he was too busy with state affairs to be concerned with Ari’s education. If the princess wanted to beat up menacing creatures, he would supply the weapons. If she wanted to get married, he would ask the prime minister to draw up a list of potential suitors. As long as Ari was happy, he didn’t mind whatever she chose to occupy herself.

  And so, the princess of Linderall was thus free to enjoy her life of luxury and idleness, and would have very likely stayed that way, had not her Great Aunt Matilda, the greatest woman warrior in history, dropped by one day and changed everything.

  Great Aunt Matilda was fifty-five years old, but she remained as spry as a spring chicken. More than thirty years ago, she had saved Linderall from being attacked by a powerful evil wizard. She had achieved worldwide fame as the first woman warrior. She was known to have singlehandedly defeated an army of cavalrymen, a group of ogres armed with clubs and axes, and, while traveling to an island in the Archipelago, a herd of flesh-eating sea monsters. Nowadays, she mostly spent her time traveling as a wandering swordswoman, aiding towns attacked by bandits or villages raided by trolls. She only visited Linderall sporadically. After an absence of six years since her last visit, she suddenly dropped by again, with the intent of seeing how her great niece was doing.

  And she wasn’t impressed.

  “Do you mean to say—” she thumped her lead-tipped staff on the ground, “—that that piece of fluff is my great niece?”

  The piece of fluff was admiring herself in one of her many mirrors. The best tailor of Linderall had designed an elegant gown the color of rich cream, which went well with Ari’s sapphire blue eyes. Yards of silk, trimmed with bows and lace, made her look extremely fashionable. She had her hair pinned up in the latest style, entwined with pearls and diamonds. A ruby necklace glittered at her throat, and matching earrings gleamed on her ear lobes. She looked exactly how traditional princesses were supposed to look.

  “Here is a ribbon that matches the dress,” Ari’s personal handmaid, Gladys, offered. “It will look especially nice in your hair.”

  “Hmph!” Great Aunt Matilda cast a disapproving look at Ari’s long golden hair. “Golden hair, indeed!”

  “Why, what is wrong with it?” Gladys asked in surprise. Anyone could see that the princess’s hair was splendid. Long, luxurious tresses that resembled living gold, they held up well to whatever hair style Gladys fashioned.

  “The color’s wrong,” Great Aunt Matilda snapped. “Everyone knows that blond hair shows that you are a dumb twit.”

  “Papa is blond.”

  Great Aunt Matilda ignored the statement. “Why don’t you dye your hair red, Arianna? Red shows a fiery spirit.”

  “Absolutely not.” Ari was horrified. She couldn’t imagine dying her beautiful hair; it was one of her best features. Besides, many of her gowns would clash horribly with red hair. “I’d sooner cut off my head.”

  “Stuff and nonsense!” Great Aunt Matilda stalked away, thoroughly disgruntled. Really, she had to have a word with the king.

  “Harold, how on earth did you raise your daughter?”

  The king, who had just finished a mind-draining meeting that took all morning, was not inclined to participate in another long discussion. But Great Aunt Matilda, with her lead-tipped staff in hand, a dagger in her leather boot, and a quiver of arrows slung over her back, was not someone he could afford to neglect.

  “Is there something wrong with Ari, my dear aunt?” he said, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

  “Everything. Do you have any idea of princesses nowadays? They fight. They train. They go off to seek exciting adventures, things that I was forbidden to do when I was their age. And now your daughter is rejecting the privileges that I once had to risk life and limb to gain!”

  The king sighed. “At your request in your last visit, we did provide her lessons in fighting, but she didn’t like it. Surely there is no need to force her into doing something she doesn’t enjoy.”

  “Hmph!” Great Aunt Matilda thumped her staff on the ground, making the crystal goblets on the table rattle. “You have spoiled her too much, Harold. Do you want your daughter, who only cares about dresses and makeup, to be your heir and successor to the throne? What if war breaks out? What if another evil wizard threatens the kingdom? What if a dragon goes on a rampage? She isn’t equipped with the skills fit to rule!”

  The king privately thought that a well-chosen royal consort would be enough, and that evil wizards or dragons hadn’t been seen for thirty years, but he had learned his lesson long ago. Never, ever a
rgue with Great Aunt Matilda.

  “Well, if you insist, I can send for the sword master again.”

  “No.” Great Aunt Matilda shook her head. “From what I have seen of Arianna, remaining here will not change anything. I have a better idea.”

  Ari grimaced. She was sitting at her dressing table, inspecting her reflection in the mirror. To her annoyance, she found a pimple on her chin. According to Gladys, pimples were to be expected, especially since she was fifteen years old, but still, Ari tried to do everything possible to maintain her flawless complexion.

  “That lemon juice concoction was no use,” she mused. “I have to ask Gladys if she knows any more remedies.”

  A knock came on the door.

  Good gracious, was it Great Aunt Matilda again? It was near her bed time. Didn’t the old lady have better things to do?

  Ari thought first of telling her great aunt to go away, but decided against it. Her father had taught her that a princess always behaves with decorum towards her elders.

  “Come in.”

  It was Gladys, carrying Ari’s favorite dressing gown, which had lace on the cuffs and a row of bows down the back. It was imported from Tintagel, a neighboring kingdom known for leading the trend in fashion.

  “They tell us that Lady Matilda will be departing three days from now.” Gladys helped the princess change clothes and began to brush her hair.

  “Lovely,” Ari said, relieved that her great aunt was finally leaving. “Was she summoned to chase a giant? Or is it a troll wrecking the borders?”

  “No, she’s planning to make a trip to Riviera.”

  “Long journey.” Didn’t Great Aunt Matilda mention that she had just returned from a trip to Makani, where she helped the locals pacify a herd of crocodiles gone berserk? Really, the energy she possessed, considering her age, was remarkable.

  “Er...and she said that you are to go with her. To Riviera.”

  Clunk! Ari dropped a jar of rose-scented cream on the floor.

  “WHAT? What do you mean, she’s taking me with her?”

  “Erm...” Gladys looked everywhere except at the princess. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled. “Lady... Lady Matilda said that she has enrolled you in Riviera’s Royal Academy of Fighting Arts.”

  “What is this thing?” Ari demanded.

  “It’s a training school designed for teaching nobles how to fight. They say that Lady Matilda disguised herself as a boy and undertook her fight training at this school forty-five years ago. She became famous, not only for being the first female to attend the school, but also the first student to graduate in three years. And so she decided that since you’re lacking in your education, it is necessary that you go to the Rivieran Royal Academy, which is the finest training school on the Continent. They say that after a year in the Academy, you’ll be able to defeat a mountain troll.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, I can’t even defeat a spider,” Ari said, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, I know there are many princesses who want to fight, but it’s not for me. I don’t like fighting, and I certainly don’t fancy going to some lame training school.”

  “But... Lady Matilda has already finalized the dates.”

  Ari stood up.

  “There is nothing in the world that will induce me to go.” Ari tossed her shining golden hair. “I must see Papa about this.”

  The next morning, Ari headed for the throne room.

  “I need to see the king.” She told the guard outside.

  “But he is still meeting with the prime minister and the chancellor...”

  “I must see him,” Ari cut off, in her most imperial voice. “Now.”

  The poor guard had no choice but to allow her entrance. Under normal circumstances, Ari would have waited until her father was finished with his business, but today she could not wait a minute longer. She swept through the room, her long silken skirts rustling over the floor. She took the seat across her father.

  “Pardon me,” Ari cleared her throat. “But I have a matter of utmost importance which cannot be delayed.” She shot a threatening look at the prime minister and high chancellor, as though daring them to object to her sudden intrusion.

  The prime minister and high chancellor looked at each other. The former quirked an eyebrow, while the latter shrugged.

  “We’ll step outside for a while,” the prime minister volunteered. “Need to stretch my limbs after sitting so long.”

  “Good idea.” The high chancellor rose from his chair. “We will return in half an hour, Your Majesty.”

  When the door closed behind them, Ari folded her arms across her chest.

  “Papa, is it true that Great Aunt Matilda has decided that I should enroll at this—” she scrunched up her face in distaste, “—training school in Riviera?”

  The king sighed and rubbed his temples. “Honey, don’t you think that you’d like to leave the castle for a change? You barely go out at all. And weren’t you complaining a while ago that it takes such a long time to reach Riviera?”

  “I wouldn’t mind going to Riviera,” Ari said. She had been to Riviera once and loved the amount of shopping she could do there. “But I have no intention of going to their training school. I’ve tried sword fighting before and I hate it.”

  “Well dear, that was several years ago. You may find it more interesting now.”

  “Papa, why must you listen to Great Aunt Matilda? You are the king. You don’t have to do what she tells you to do.”

  Just at that moment, they heard an ominous sound of lead hitting stone. In no time, Great Aunt Matilda appeared, her eyes sharp and her expression stern.

  The king looked as though he wouldn’t mind taking refuge under the table.

  Ari tossed her hair and glared at her great aunt.

  “Arianna.” Great Aunt Matilda propped her lead-tipped staff against a chair and sat down. “I know this is a huge surprise for you, but you have to know that it’s not enough to simply be a proper damsel these days. You have to go beyond what is traditionally expected. When I was your age, I had to dress up as a boy in order to get what I want, but now the doors are opening to girls. Do you realize what a privilege you are getting now?”

  “It’s not a privilege I care for,” Ari said scornfully. “Papa, I don’t want to go. Tell her so.”

  The king coughed. “Well, actually...”

  “I’ve already dispatched a messenger,” Great Aunt Matilda said, with a note of finality. “I’ve written a letter to the king of Riviera and the head of the Academy, telling them that we’ll be arriving in three weeks’ time so you can start your first year. You’re starting a bit late, but there have been exceptions to the norm.”

  Ari gasped. “You sent them a message without asking my permission?”

  “Doesn’t make any difference,” Great Aunt Matilda said. “We’re going, three days from today. If you fail to show up for enrollment, it will look bad for Linderall.”

  Ari rose from her chair. “How dare you—”

  “Darling, calm down,” the king said hastily. “Think about it, you can buy all the Rivieran merchandise you want.”

  Ari sat down. He had a point. Linderall was situated in a mountainous area that was far away from major cities of the Continent. Many a time she had ordered shoes that didn’t fit, or necklaces and bracelets that didn’t go well with her complexion. Now, if she was in Avon, the capital of Riviera, she could sample the products first. Nor would she have to wait for the packages to arrive.

  Still, she didn’t see why she had to take fighting lessons.

  “Papa, I don’t think...”

  “Your Majesty?” the guard popped in. “Howard the Giant is asking for Lady Matilda.”

  “Howard?” Great Aunt Matilda looked simply delighted. “Send him in! It’s been ages since I last saw him!”

  Dull, heavy thuds of footfalls sounded on the ground. A figure well over seven feet lowered his head to pass through the entrance, and entered the throne room. His head was bald, his
arms as thick as wooden logs, and his legs resembled pillars. He was one of the king’s bodyguards—Howard the Giant. He was the last of the dwindling giants in the mountains.

  Howard grinned and bowed to the king. He was mute, so he signaled with his hands.

  Your Majesty, I would like to request Lady Matilda to spar with me, he signed. If she is not busy, that is.

  Great Aunt Matilda, who had worked with Howard before, understood his signaling.

  “Name your weapon of choice.” She stood up, taking her staff. “Shall it be the bow and arrow, the sword, or jousting?”

  Howard grinned. All three, he signaled. I have been practicing.

  “Good to know,” Great Aunt Matilda said. “It’s been difficult for me to find a human opponent who’d last more than five minutes.”

  The two of them disappeared, apparently to find a place more suitable for fighting than the throne room.

  Ari stared at Great Aunt Matilda’s back. “Did they have a duel before?”

  “Five years ago. Howard lost, so he’s wanted to have a rematch with Aunt Matilda ever since.”

  “He lost?” Ari said incredulously. Howard, with his size and strength, was easily the best fighter in Linderall.

  And now they expect her to attend the same school Great Aunt Matilda went to? Impossible. They might as well make a fish live on land.

  “I don’t want to go,” she repeated angrily. “Papa, you know that I never wanted to be a warrior maiden, even if it’s what other princesses have been doing. I don’t see anything wrong with getting married and settling down, like Mother did.”

  The late queen had died when Ari was seven years old. Although Ari was only a child, she remembered her mother well. A stately, elegant woman who had impeccable manners and dressed with refined taste. Ari had always aspired to be like her mother one day. Even when she kept hearing about princesses becoming warriors these days, she had no desire to change.

  The king also grew pensive. He had loved his wife deeply, and despite occasional suggestions from his subjects that he marry again, he could not bring himself to find a second wife. Instead, he threw himself into ruling the kingdom, seldom allowing himself any free time, much less overseeing Ari’s education.