Princesses Don't Fight in Skirts

by Aya Ling

  They strolled among the flower beds for a short time before Simon spoke.

  “Your Highness...”

  “You may call me Ari,” Ari said, wrinkling her nose. At the Academy, when everyone was seen as pupils rather than titles, she had gotten used to being called directly by her first name.

  Simon seemed pleased. “Ari, then. How long have you been at the Academy?”

  “Ten months already.”

  “So that explains your—er—competence at the ball the other day.”

  “Oh, that,” Ari tried to laugh it off. “Yes, that’s unfortunately due to the training we receive.”

  “I find it a pity that a beautiful lady like you should be spending time at the Academy,” Simon said, stroking his chin. “You could do much more at court. Indeed, I cannot tell the difference between you and the ladies over there.”

  He briefly indicated a couple of most fashionably dressed court ladies, who were admiring a rosebush that bore flowers the size of saucers. One of them was wearing her hair in a chignon that looked very similar to Ari’s hairstyle.

  Ari opened her mouth to agree with him, but the words didn’t come naturally.

  “I... of course,” she swallowed. “Can you imagine us spending hours brandishing a sword under the sun? It’s a wonder that my skin stays like it is now.”

  Simon laughed. “Can you not leave the school?”

  “I... don’t know. Great Aunt Matilda expects me not to leave until I receive my shield; which won’t be for another five years.”

  “Hmm. That is a problem.” He looked up in the sky, and then at her. “I’ve heard that you have a few days off due to the royal celebrations. May I have the honor of treating you to dinner this evening?”

  And so began the courtship of Her Royal Highness Arianna.

  Ari was thrilled. Since her arrival at Riviera, this was the first time a young man was actively courting her. And such a nice young man he was: good-looking, well-mannered, cultured, and unlike Prince James, never made fun of her. There was sincerity in his eyes when he complimented her fine eyes or elaborate hairstyle, and he was always meticulous about his etiquette. He sent her flowers and perfume and small trinkets, gifts that did not cost too much to make her feel guilty for receiving them, yet frequently enough to make her feel cherished.

  Georgiana was happy for her; she herself was courted by several young nobles at the ball, but she turned every one down. Although she had transformed from ugly duckling to swan at the ball, Georgiana was content to save the “transformations” for special occasions and keep on as her plain self while training.

  “It’s fun to be decked out once in a while, but I don’t think I want to primp in front of the mirror for hours,” she confessed to Ari. “But Ari... what about James?”

  “We are friends,” Ari said, putting emphasis on every word. “He doesn’t take me seriously. I detect no romantic interest from him.”

  “But I’m sure he is attracted to you,” Georgiana insisted. “I mean, even if he didn’t tell you openly, he has willingly given you sword lessons. If he didn’t like you in the first place, why would he do so? From what I’ve heard, James prefers to devote his time to animals rather than humans.”

  But Ari wasn’t convinced. For sure, James did tease her now and then, but nothing he did indicated more than friendship—the sword lessons, the tour of the royal menagerie, etc. Even on the few occasions she thought he was flirting, his flippant tone made it hard for her to take him seriously. Now, what Simon did was different—he made her feel properly courted.

  While Ari was excited at finally having a suitor, she did not neglect her training. She had thought that since she had a pretty good chance at getting engaged and leaving the Academy, there would be no need to focus on the combat lessons, but strangely, she found herself making an effort to improve her skills, even though there was little incentive to do so. Of course, for reasons of self-preservation, she could not completely ignore the training either. She strove to advance to the long-ranged lines, tried to master every move that Giles taught them, and remained in the front rows as Ulaf continued to bark and rage at them for being such inept, slow-witted meatheads.

  Ari also continued her extra swordplay lessons with James when he returned to Avon. The prince was a good sparring partner—he was the complete opposite of Ulaf: patient, smiling, encouraging, though he still enjoyed teasing her now and then.

  “Well, my dear Monkey Conqueror…”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “Today, pretend that I am Howard. He is the closest you can get for a troll or ogre.”

  Ari considered him and grimaced. “Howard is twice your size.”

  “All right, then pretend I’m Ulaf. Or Boris. Or even your Great Aunt Matilda, whoever you feel like beating up the most. I want you to give your all in fighting and not hold back.”

  “Then I’ll just pretend you are James,” Ari said sardonically, and he laughed.

  “Ready?”

  Ari drew her blunt sword and charged, the thin blade slicing through the air in a swift stroke. James raised his sword to block her, but Ari knew well that she couldn’t match his strength. She suddenly changed direction, aiming for his thigh instead. Surprised, James quickly brought his sword down.

  Clang! The two swords met.

  “Good work, Ari.” James grinned. “You nearly gave me a bruise.”

  Ari couldn’t help it; she grinned right back.

  They resumed practice. Ari slashed and thrust and parried and ducked, sometimes forgetting where she was and what time it was, her mind only on the task in front of her. It was not until they had finished their tenth round when Ari realized that she had promised to meet Simon for a moonlight stroll.

  “I should be going,” she gasped, quickly straightening her tunic and refashioning her hairstyle.

  “So soon?” James regarded her with mild surprise. “You are not coming to see Flamewind with me?” Usually after a lesson, they would head to the royal menagerie and feed the griffin.

  Ari shook her head. “Prior engagement.”

  “Ah... a romantic date, I assume?” James’ tone was light, but when Ari did not refute him, he lowered his head and looked away, his bangs falling over his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Ari said, suddenly feeling horribly contrite. “I’ll make sure to visit Flamewind sometime later. Truly.”

  Ari hurried to the palace gardens, walking as fast as she could without damaging her new slippers.

  She had rushed back to the sleeping quarters as fast as she could, taken a quick bath, eaten some brown bread and cheese that Marcella brought her from the dining hall, and sat down in front of the mirror with her trustworthy cosmetic brushes. By now she had actually found it exciting to be fighting in the day and romancing in the evening. To use an Amarantan phrase that Valeria had once quoted, variety is the spice of life.

  Simon was waiting for her by the fountain. Not far away, other couples roamed the gardens and exchanged talk and laughter.

  “Simon,” Ari gasped, skidding to a halt when she reached him. “My apologies for running late. I had an extra lesson this afternoon.”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t arrive too early, either,” he said, presenting her with a long-stemmed lily. “I appreciate that you agreed to meet me when you have such a grueling schedule.”

  “It’s not so bad when you’re used to it,” Ari said with a laugh. “How was your day?”

  “Mentally draining.” He pulled a face, and both of them laughed. “The University lecturers are all elderly, stodgy men. They are well learned, no doubt of it, but few of them know how to effectively convey their knowledge without making the students snore.”

  “Perhaps you can all stand in rows instead,” Ari suggested. “I guarantee it’s much more difficult to fall asleep on your toes.”

  “Oh, yes, your lessons are so different from ours. I still find it remarkable that you and other girls are entering the Academy. Not that I am against it, of course,
” he hastily added. “But if it were me, I would prefer to sit in a cool shade rather than getting my body pounded in the sun.”

  Ari nodded. It was exactly what she felt when she had had her first fighting lesson.

  “I do hope Great Aunt Matilda will visit soon,” she said, almost petulantly. “I can now show her that I’m no longer a helpless princess. Perhaps she’ll allow my release then.” She yawned, feeling rather weary in both body and spirit. She must have spent too much time sparring with James. So engrossed she was in the fighting that she had pushed herself to her limit.

  Simon looked at her with compassion. “I believe you deserve some relaxation, Arianna. As a matter of fact, I—my purpose for inviting you out today is to make a request.”

  Ari thought she detected a blush on his cheeks. Her heart gave a quick beat.

  “My younger sister, Cecilia, is turning eighteen next month. We will be holding a debutante ball for her. Would you—would you give me the honor of being my partner to the ball? I would like to introduce you to my sister.”

  Ari’s eyes sparkled. She had enjoyed herself during the wedding ball—until that pesky Makani monkey came and ruined her dignity.

  “Um... will there be anyone from Makani present?”

  Simon, not understanding the reason she asked, shook his head. “Is there anything wrong?”

  “No, no, it’s just... the animals. I’m not very used to the animals they carry on their shoulders.”

  “I see.” Simon smiled. “Do not worry, Arianna. Even if anyone from Makani came, there will be servants nearby in case anything gets out of hand.”

  Ari blushed. “That was a stupid question. Of course, Simon, I’d love to come,” she said, giving him what she hoped to be a dazzling smile.

  Her wish was granted. He went red, all the way to the tips of his ears.

  “Excellent. You’ll have a wonderful time, I promise. My sister has wanted to meet you. She saw you briefly at the crown prince’s wedding, but did not have any chance to talk to you.”

  “Thank you. I shall be glad to meet her.” Ari felt her heart fluttering. If Simon was asking to present her to his sister, then it must mean that he was serious about his courtship. She felt giddy and lightheaded and nervous and excited, though a small part of her also felt that something was wrong.

  Don’t be stupid, she chided herself. Wasn’t this what she always wanted? Didn’t she dream of leaving the Academy and settling down to a life of luxury? If everything went well, Simon would propose. And if he proposed, she would get what she wanted—a marriage made in Riviera. She ought to be thrilled that her dream was coming true.

  Ten: To Go or Not to Go

  With the prospect of another ball and the possibility of becoming the fiancé of a noble young lord, Ari’s spirits rose.

  She had to decide on her outfit for the debutante ball. She had only recently learned about such occasions from Georgiana; there were no debutante balls for young women in Linderall. Ari was determined not to wreck her first opportunity to attend such an event.

  Ari hauled her chest from under her bed. Now that she had obtained quite a few new items from the market, it was much heavier than before, but on the other hand, she was also stronger from doing all those push-ups and strengthening exercises in class.

  Opening the chest, she pulled out dress after dress, trying to figure out which would be the best one for the ball. Perhaps the turquoise green brocade dress with a creamy white sash? Or the hyacinth blue satin gown with lacy sleeves and tailored waist? Or even the new pink dress with roses sewn on the shoulder? She also inspected the many pairs of slippers she had, trying to decide how to match their colors to the dresses.

  Finally, Ari decided on a crimson gown with a long full skirt and a narrow bodice. It looked more sophisticated and grown up than her other dresses, but it needed some golden trimmings to give it a beautifying touch. On the bodice, perhaps. Or the skirts.

  Ari folded up the gown neatly, tucked it under her arm, and headed towards the dressmakers’ wing.

  When she neared her destination, she found several finely dressed court ladies arguing outside the door.

  “I was the first one to arrive, so I should be the first one to ask.”

  “Nonsense. I was here much earlier; I only found that I had forgotten my handkerchief at the entrance hall and went back to retrieve it.”

  “But I talked to Lance three days ago and he promised he would do the embroidery on my dress today!”

  “Oh, so that’s why you went back to the Academy—didn’t you give it up earlier?”

  Ari’s ears perked up at the mention of Lance. Why were these court ladies talking about him?

  “Excuse me,” she said in clear, distinct tones.

  Several pairs of eyes immediately focused on her.

  “Aren’t you... are you not that girl in the wedding ball?”

  “You! You’re the one who tried to catch a monkey!”

  By this time, Ari could look back at the incident with self-deprecating humor. Especially now that she saw that the court ladies looked scandalized and even slightly afraid of her.

  She nodded, trying to look sober, though her eyes gleamed mischievously. “I am afraid that it was me. I apologize for causing such a spectacle, but let me assure you that we from Linderall do not usually undertake such ridiculous behavior.”

  The ladies took a step back at her confirmation.

  Ari used the opportunity to slip into the room. Briefly she reflected that she could have easily taken them out with a single punch on the nose, but of course she wouldn’t engage in such violent behavior in the palace. She may have grown used to shooting an arrow and wielding a sword, but she fully planned to retain her ladylike manners.

  Once inside, Ari heard the ladies outside begin to quarrel again. She wondered why they did not simply choose to barge into the room, but then, it was not of her concern.

  “Your Highness?” Peregrine said, rising and greeting her with a short bow. “What can we do for you today?”

  “I just wanted to see Lance.”

  “He’s over there. Careful, you don’t want to trip over the sewing baskets.”

  Ari spotted the knight-turned-tailor sitting in a corner, sewing some intricate floral patterns on a sleeve.

  “So here you are!” she exclaimed. “I thought your father had made you go home.”

  Lance looked up and grinned. Ari realized that it was the first time she had seen him smile; he had lost the bored expression he usually had when training at the Academy.

  “Princess Valeria spread the news that I had helped make her wedding gown,” he said, pulling on a thread and nipping it in half. “That got a lot of people talking, and the ladies started asking if I’d do embroidery for them. Because everyone knew I could sew, plus Her Highness stood by me, my father had to give in.”

  “Excellent.” Ari gave him a friendly pat on the back. “So, have you too many projects at the moment, or can you spare some time to add some finishing touches to this dress?”

  “When is the latest you need this?” Lance asked, after looking over the crimson gown and ascertaining what kind of embroidery work that Ari required.

  “Two weeks.”

  Lance nodded. “Consider it done.”

  Ari waltzed out of the door, floating on a golden cloud of bliss. She would make sure that her second ball in Riviera would be a success.

  The court ladies were still squabbling when she emerged, apparently still undecided as to who should enter first. Ari grinned at them, bade them good day, and went on her way.

  She passed a rather flighty-looking maid who was hurrying down the corridor, carrying a tray that contained a pot of tea and a plate of cherry chocolate tortes. Ari recognized the maid as Effie, Valeria’s personal maid whom she’d brought from Amaranta. Effie sometimes came to their morning runs to notify Valeria of pressing matters in the kitchen, such as a dish that crashed to the floor, or a cake that was burnt to a crisp.

  �
��Hello, Effie,” Ari said, smiling. “Off to see your mistress?”

  Effie skidded to a halt, the silver spoons clinking against the teacups. Ari marveled at how she balanced herself without having been through any Academy training.

  “Princess Arianna! How do you do? Yes, Her Highness is preparing for her afternoon tea with Prince Ralph.” Effie bobbed a curtsy.

  “In that case, I’ll just return to the Academy,” Ari said. She had thought of dropping by to say hello to Valeria, but it didn’t matter. Valeria still took part in the morning runs. “I don’t want to be disturbing the royal couple’s afternoon tea.”

  “You haven’t seen Prince Ralph around?” Effie said anxiously. “He usually isn’t late for tea, and he was supposed to have arrived a quarter hour ago. It isn’t like him. Oh, I do hope nothing bad has happened.”

  “That’s very unlikely,” Ari laughed. “We’re in the royal palace, Effie. And His Highness must be capable of taking care of himself.”

  Just at that moment, however, a lean figure emerged from a corner. For a brief second, Ari thought that Prince Ralph had finally arrived, but when she noticed the messy hair and the squirrel, it couldn’t be any other than James.

  His eyes widened at seeing her, but oddly, he did not greet her with his roguish wink or quirk of an eyebrow. His expression was uncommonly solemn; his lips were firmly pressed, his jaw set, and his fists were clenched. Brucie seemed affected as well; the squirrel sat with a drooping head. No acorn in its tiny paws.

  “Are you all right?” Ari said without thinking. “You look as though the sky has fallen.”

  He reached out and caught her arm. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Steering her down the other end of the corridor, he called over his shoulder, “Effie, run along and tell Valeria that my brother won’t be joining her today. A serious problem has come up.”

  “What problem?” Effie immediately asked, trying to follow them. “What kind of problem must delay His Highness from his afternoon tea?”

  “You’ll know soon,” James said curtly. “Go to your mistress first.”