The five of us ride relentlessly through the rain, ignoring the incessant drizzle that is a nuisance to horses and humans alike. There’s no sound except the clop of the horses’ hooves and the steady drumming of the rain on my metal helmet. I don’t mind the silence. We gave up on talking a few miles back, leaving us to do our best to ignore the damp and the cold.
Prince Simon rides at the head of our little group, proud as always, trying to keep some of his precious royal dignity about him. Right behind the prince is Adric the Strong, his bulky form hunched over his horse (I’m surprised his massive musculature hasn’t crushed the poor beast). Then comes Jeremiah Bone-Crusher, his renowned axe strapped to his back (I think the only thing that axe isn’t strong enough to break is Jeremiah’s skull), and behind him, Hubert the Shrill with his swords and his lute (normally he won’t shut up, but the rain seems to have quieted him, giving us some much-appreciated silence).
And then there’s me. Nico the Cunning, they say in the songs, though people call me Nico the Helmeted almost as much (seeing how I never take the helmet off), or even Nico the Small (seriously, though, I’m not that much smaller than everybody else). Believe it or not, I’m actually pretty well-known for a mercenary. Sadly, well-known doesn’t always translate to well-paid, so here I am, traipsing through the mud with the prince and three other hired thugs.
Believe me, I would not be here if I had any coin left. At least the prince is rich.
Finally, Prince Simon raises his hand, signalling us to stop (Jeremiah notices a little late and ends up crashing into Adric. Typical).
“We’re here,” the prince says.
Squinting through the rain and general gloom, I catch a glimpse of an ominous stone wall rising in front of us. It’s obviously old, with cracks running through the stone and vines clinging to the surface. The whole area is smothered in fog, and the beginnings of twilight are starting to creep into the sky. In addition to the rain, it makes everything seem desolate and forgotten.
“Adria Castle,” Simon states, his voice heavy with the importance of the moment.
“It’s real,” murmurs Hubert. His eyes are wide with awe, staring at the imposing castle before us. "I can't believe it."
Everyone knows the legend of Adria Castle -- and what lies within. Allegedly, it had once been the center of a massive kingdom -- before the curse. The king and queen apparently angered an powerful sorceress (which always goes well in ancient stories). She put the entire castle to sleep, including the king, queen, and their daughter, Princess Rose, and set a dragon as a sentinel to keep anyone from getting in. Legend has it that the only way to break the curse and wake the castle is for Princess Rose to receive her “True Love’s Kiss.” Apparently, fate will bring the two lovers together, and they’ll instantly fall in love or something.
You know, normal fairy-tale idiocy.
And of course the prince is convinced that he’s Princess Rose’s “One True Love.” How could he not be? He’s the spitting image of a perfect, pompous prince, with his painfully proud demeanor, sparkling good looks, and insistence that women exist only to fall in love with him.
Needless to say, I… disagree. But like I said before, he’s rich, and even he’s not dumb enough to try to take on a dragon without backup. And if you’ve got coin, the muscular, merry, masculine mercenary business is happy to oblige.
“WHERE’S THE DRAGON?” Adric yells, interrupting my thoughts. How stupid is this idiot? Sure, he’s the strongest man in the kingdom, but… does anyone really want to attract a dragon’s attention?
“A good question,” says Prince Simon. “It seems to be leaving us alone for now, though I don’t doubt that we’ll have to fight it eventually.”
I shiver despite myself. I’ve fought dragons before, but with those creatures, nothing ever seems to go exactly as planned.
“Can we go find it?” asks Jeremiah. I swear, these men… he almost sounds excited.
I decide to speak up for the first time in several hours, my voice deep and ragged. “Perhaps it’s a good idea to camp out here for the night.”
The four of them turn to me, staring almost like they had forgotten I was here. Hubert snorts. “You scared underneath that helmet, Nico?”
I level my best death glare at him, my eyes glinting through the slits in my helmet. “Not for me.”
The prince breaks the tension by dismounting from his horse. “All right. We’ll camp here, and find the castle’s entrance in the morning. Then… we fight a dragon.”
“Easy peasy,” I mutter under my breath.
***
I take the last watch before dawn. It’s nice just sitting there, watching the sun rise through the eye slits in my helmet and trying to ignore the snores of my three other companions.
I don’t even take the helmet off at night, as uncomfortable as it is. Believe me, I have my reasons.
I stare down at Prince Simon’s sleeping form, yet again regretting my decision to take this job. I’ve spent the last two weeks feeling wet, cold, annoyed, and generally uncomfortable. Hopefully today the prince will slay the dragon with a dashing smile, rescue the beautiful princess from a hundred years of slumber, fall instantly in love, and pay us for our services. We all live happily ever after. Boom. The end.
Like I said. Fairy-tale idiocy. True love for everyone.
Except me.
I gave up on relationships a long time ago. There are too many reasons why they just don’t work for me, and as much as I would love to be in one -- as much as I love the conversation, and the inside jokes, and the… more intimate parts, it’s just never really worked out.
I sigh, scratching at my nose through the helmet, and turn my attention back to the sunrise.
***
It’s almost midday when we find the castle gates. Jeremiah, for all his enthusiasm yesterday, took forever to wake up.
The gates are made of tall, imposing iron, wrought in the shape of two lions. Vines cover the walls around them, and the fog still shifts ominously around us. We haven’t seen any sign of the dragon yet, but it must be lurking in here somewhere.
“Prince Simon,” I say, my voice gravelly. “Perhaps we should come up with a plan of attack.”
“That sounds like a good idea, Nico,” the prince replies. “Maybe-”
He’s cut off by the sound of rattling metal and stomping feet. I watch in horror as Adric tears down one of the castle gates with his bare hands, bending the iron like it was made of toothpicks.
I swear under my breath. Is there no end to this idiocy?
Apparently not. Jeremiah dismounts and runs after Adric, with Hubert close behind.
“Wait for me!” the prince cries, jumping off of his horse and sprinting along.
I ride after them. It’s faster this way, and I will admit, my four companions have longer legs than I do.
I can barely make their figures out through the fog, but it looks like Hubert and Jeremiah are still trying to catch up with Adric. I can see the big man one moment, his fists raised, the beginning of a war cry building in his throat --
And then, fire.
Looks like we found our dragon.
I catch glimpses of it up ahead of us: a mass of dark scales, claws like scimitars, teeth as sharp as razors. It’s absolutely massive, bigger than most of the other dragons I’ve seen. The stench of brimstone fills the air.
Jeremiah and Hubert are yelling something. I’m not sure where Simon has got to.
And Adric…
All that’s left of Adric is a pile of burning flesh.
That’s what happens to you when you charge a dragon with no plan. Moron.
I draw my sword, dismounting from my horse. There’s another blast of fire behind me, another scream. I can feel the heat through my helmet and armor. I glance back at where the other mercenaries were, and there’s another burning body on the ground.
I don’t see Hubert anymore.
Jeremiah’s doing his best to fend off the beast with his famed battleaxe, and he’s actually doing a pretty decent job of it. I see Prince Simon run out from somewhere, too, holding his sword and shield.
It’s not going to be enough, I think. Though…
It is a pretty good distraction.
I start sprinting towards the dragon’s tail. It’s covered in long spikes, forming a ridge up the creature’s back. Sneaking through the shadows and the fog, I manage to make it without getting spotted.
Now for the dangerous part. I grab onto one of the ridges and start climbing.
I make it halfway up the tail before the dragon notices my presence. Its head snaps towards me. It’s ugly, with a long, crooked snout and a collection of spines sticking out of its forehead. The smell of sulfur is strongest here. Its mouth is already beginning to glow with fire.
I swear under my breath. And then…
I jump towards its head.
I barely clear the jet of fire that shoots towards me, flinging myself to the side and latching on to one of the spines on its head. It makes a sound almost like a scream and tries to shake me off. I grip my sword in one hand and hold on for dear life with the other.
I think I hear Prince Simon shouting below me and glance down. The ground is very far away (again, the dragon is absolutely huge). I see the prince crouched over Jeremiah’s body. The stones around him are covered in blood.
Three of us down… this is not good.
The dragon roars again. Looking up, I see an opportunity: its eye.
I swing myself back and forth, trying to build up enough momentum to swing to one of the other head spines. I propel myself forward, and for a moment I’m just suspended there, hanging in the open air.
And then I’m holding onto another spine, right next to its eye.
I plunge my sword into its pupil. The dragon roars, a sound of anger and pain.
Then, it collapses. Dead.
I roll to the ground, landing in front of Prince Simon and Jeremiah’s body. The prince looks at me, a little bit in awe. I enjoy it for a moment, then ask him if he's okay.
He nods. “But Adric… Jeremiah… Hubert…”
“I know,” I say. “They fought bravely.”
The prince nods again. Takes in a shaky breath. “Let’s find the princess.”
I sigh and follow him.
***
We find her in a room at the top of the tower. It’s almost surreal: Princess Rose is lying serenely on bed in the middle of the room. It looks like she’s just taking a nap.
I stop short as soon as I see her, my breath catching in my throat. No, I can’t be thinking this. But I have to admit… she’s beautiful. Her hair frames her face, glimmering like the wings of a raven in the sunlight. Her skin is dark and smooth, her features delicate, her face shaped like a heart. I can’t help but gaze at her for a minute.
I wonder what color her eyes are. I wonder what she’s like. If she likes telling stories, or dancing, or horseback riding.
If she likes watching the sunrise, sitting in the dark before dawn, talking for hours and sharing secrets she’s never told anyone else. If she likes laughing at this weird, painful world. If she likes-
No. I can’t think like that.
Prince Simon looks back at me and smiles. I shiver despite myself: he looks so proud of himself. His perfect life, his perfect self, and soon, a perfect wife to be his eye candy.
He leans down and kisses her.
I brace myself for a shower of magic, a tinkle of bells, music filling the air as the curse is broken and the princess finally awakes.
Nothing happens.
The prince looks around for a moment, bewildered. Then he tries again. And again.
Still nothing happens. Finally, the prince lets out a growl of rage and storms out of the room.
Suddenly, I’m alone with the princess. I... did not expect this.
A thought occurs to me. I could kiss her. The legend never explicitly states that the “True Love” had to be… well, a prince. Per se.
But no. Fairy tales don’t tend to work like that. My life doesn’t tend to work like that. Especially when romance is involved.
I sigh and turn to follow the prince out the door. But I turn to catch one more glimpse of the sleeping princess, and then…
I’m kissing her.
I’m kissing Princess Rose.
It’s quick, and gentle, and amazing, and then I realize what I’m doing and jolt backwards.
I probably shouldn’t have done that, I think.
Too late.
The princess’ eyes open with a snap. She gasps, sitting bolt upright, and screams a swear word at the top of her lungs.
I stumble backwards, shocked. That… actually worked? What does this even mean? Why is she swearing? Is she okay?
She’s staring at me now, a look of confusion and something akin to terror. Her eyes are gray, with just a hint of blue, the same color as the rain clouds outside. I don’t have much time to admire them before her hand darts under her pillow and comes back out with a dagger. “Who are you? What’s happening?”
There’s a clatter from the door, and Prince Simon barges back into the room. “Princess! You’re awake!”
Her attention shifts back to him, her grip on the knife tightening. “Yeah, I actually noticed that already,” she snaps. “What the heck is going on?”
The prince looks taken aback. “Uh…” Then he looks at me. “Nico, what… what?”
I sigh and step forward again, my hands raised. The princess looks… really pretty. Gorgeous, even, now that she’s awake. “You… you’ve been asleep a long time. Do you want me to explain?”
The princess stares at me for a moment, then nods. She lowers the dagger, but doesn’t set it down.
I explain everything, from the evil sorceress to the curse to the fight with the dragon, and finally how I kissed her (Prince Simon starts sputtering indignantly until Princess Rose levels him with a death glare) and she woke up.
“That sorceress,” she muttered. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted her…” she rubs her temple with the hand that’s not holding the knife. Then she looks up at me again and cocks her head to one side. Her hair swishes gently with the movement, catching the sunlight coming in through the window and glimmering like the night sky. “Something about this doesn’t make sense.”
“What about it?” I ask. Normally I’d say something clever about this whole quest being nonsensical, but the words seem to have drifted out of my head.
“You said that the legend specified ‘True Love,’ right?”
“Yeah,” I say. Oh. I think I know where this is going.
“And you’re the one that kissed me awake,” she replies.
“Well, technically-” Prince Simon cuts in. Princess Rose levels him with another death glare, and he shuts up again. Then she turns her attention back to me, her storm cloud eyes glinting in the sun.
“Yeah,” I say again. Why can’t I talk? Why can’t I think? Why can’t I breathe?
Why is this girl so pretty?
The princess starts pacing the room, twirling her knife expertly in her hands as she thinks. (Wow… she’s really good at that).
She stops pacing and looks me right in the eyes, her gaze boring through my helmet. “He said your name was Nico, right?” she asks.
I glance at Prince Simon, but he’s still staring at the princess. “Um, yes, I suppose he did.” My hand drifts up to my helmet.
“Nico,” she says again. “I can’t be in love with you.”
Despite myself, my heart clenches.
“You seem really nice,” she continues, “and I’m sure we can all figure out… whatever all this idiocy is with the enchantment and the ‘True Love’ stuff, but…” she pauses. Takes a breath. Looks me dead in the eyes. “I don’t like guys.”
My heart leaps in my chest, and I let out a small, breathy laugh. Princess Rose frowns. “What’s so funny?”
I laugh again. I feel like spinning in circles, or jumping, or dancing. Instead, I start undoing the straps of my helmet.
The princess is still staring at me, her beautiful, heart-shaped face full of confusion again. She’s still holding the dagger by her side.
I can tell the exact moment she realizes. The bewilderment in her eyes changes to shock, and then she starts to smile.
The last buckle finally comes undone, and I pull the helmet off of my head for the first time in what feels like years. Some of my red hair has come loose from one of my braids, spilling across my shoulders. I’m exhausted and sweaty, and I probably look like a mess, but doing this is the only way that I ever get taken seriously. This idiotic patriarchal kingdom.
“Nicolette,” I say, dropping the gravelly tone that I use to disguise my voice. “Nico is short for Nicolette. And, well, if you don’t like guys… what about girls?”
Rose smiles at me, shock still evident in her expression but quickly being overtaken by joy. “Nicolette,” she repeats. “Girls. Yeah. This works.”
And then she kisses me.
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