Page 7 of Dawn of Hope
“We’re done,” Brynne calls out. “Next spar up. The ring is yours.”
The clang of armor sounds through the air as the next guards climb over the wooden barricades into the ring. Before we make it to the other side, a voice from behind catches my attention.
“Piss poor excuse for a future queen, if you ask me. Like I’ve said for years, the king should have found himself a new woman and made a new heir. At least then we’d have a chance at another king.”
I feel the sharp stab of his words in my chest as I fall deeper into my feelings of inadequacy, but it isn’t me he has to worry about. I turn and reach out to grab hold of Brynne to keep her from making a scene, but I am not fast enough.
With her long strides, she is already halfway across the ring. The surrounding conversations grow quiet as the focus of the guards shifts once again to the spectacle that is about to take place.
Brynne is tall and her height gives her the same advantage as most of the men that make up the guards. But her stature and strength aren’t the only reasons she has authority. Her position as Second Guard protecting the princess is the highest of them all, below only First Guard, who protects the King.
But there is no First Guard. There hasn’t been one for as long as I can remember. My father chose never to fill the position, leaving Brynne the highest-ranking guard in the castle. No one knows why the king refuses to choose a First Guard, but it doesn’t stop everyone, including Brynne, from coveting the position.
She reaches the man who I assume made the comment, and if I have to guess, was the source of the snickers from earlier. The guards around him take half a step back, leaving him alone at the edge of the ring to receive the wrath of their commanding officer. They are smart. I’ve seen what Brynne does to guards who step out of line, and I wouldn’t want to be associated with that either.
“What did you just say?” Brynne growls at him.
The smug look on his face doesn’t waver as he stares her down with a hardened gaze. He remains silent.
“I’m going to give you one more chance to answer, soldier, and you will not be happy with the result if you don’t. I said—” She reaches out over the wooden beam, grabbing him by the collar and yanks him forward. He flips over it, landing flat on his back. Pained wheezes break through the air as he gasps for breath.
“What. Did you. Say.”
He stares up at her from the ground, flat on his back. His lips seal shut as he stays focused on her, but refuses to speak.
She nods a few times in thought.
“Clearly, you have thoughts about the king and your future queen. I’d say they are borderline traitorous. Do you agree?” She looks around at the guards who stood with the man. All of them remain silent, but continue to watch.
“I think you may be a bit too comfortable here at the castle, and maybe it is time to relocate. A good stint out at the border should do you well. You leave tomorrow.”
Despite my position, and despite the years I’ve spent training alongside the guards, there are still some I need to win over. Most of them treat me with respect inside the castle, and like I am part of their group while we are training, but every so often we run into someone like this man who has a different opinion. Brynne always takes care of them, and I never see them again.
The man glares up at Brynne and rolls over onto his stomach, but Brynne doesn’t let him get far.
“Stop. First, you kneel before your future queen and swear loyalty to the kingdom.”
The guard looks up at me and scowls. I don’t let him see how his words hurt me, and scowl right back. He holds my stare, refusing to back down, but so do I. Brynne towers over him, arms crossed with a look I have seen a million times before. Pure authority.
The man finally pushes up off the ground and stands. He takes a slow, measured step, then another, closing the gap between us. I feel the urge to reach for a weapon before I remember the ones I have are dull. They would not even make him bleed.
He stops and drops to a knee directly in front of me. A ringing echoes as he pulls his sword from the scabbard at his side. He plants the tip of the blade into the ground in front of him and places both hands on the hilt.
“I pledge my service to the kingdom of Blackwood and give my sword to protect the royal family. I swear my loyalty to the king, Remington Holt, and his heir, Princess Lennox. Long live the king. Long live the princess.”
His head is bowed, his eyes downcast as he recites the same pledge I’ve heard countless times from ceremonies past.
It’s my part that comes next. “Blackwood honors your service and loyalty. You may rise.”
Before he can stand on his own, Brynne grabs his shoulders and hauls him off the ground, pushing him toward the fence.
“Get back to work.” Brynne strides back toward me, the air of authority seeping from her as she walks. It was the same walk she had the first time I saw her.
Years ago, when I reached an age where I was no longer a child and could move freely about the castle, my father held a tournament. The winner would be granted the position of Second Guard, the personal guard to the princess. It was intended to be filled by a guard already within our ranks, however, most of them wanted the coveted First Guard position my father refused to fill.
Brynne walked into the castle that day, wearing her own set of armor and claiming no kingdom. She was the only woman who signed up for the tournament and was immediately underestimated. She looked as if she was barely a few years older than me, clearly unable to hold her own against the well-trained soldiers of Blackwood. I was the one who didn’t underestimate her. She walked with confidence, and I knew she would fight for the position and fight to protect me.
It inspired me seeing someone so close to my age fight as if she were one of the men, having more experience than they anticipated. I rooted for her silently, because it wasn’t proper for the princess to choose sides. She was everything I wasn’t: strong, confident, aggressive. She didn’t cower at anyone and demanded respect as one of their peers. I wanted to be her, or to at least be around her so that maybe she would rub off on my meticulously controlled and lonely life.