A Prince's Pride

Interlude Chapter 

Author's Note:

 I don't have the next chapter ready yet. This part of the story is extremely important, so I want to do it justice. However, I want to put out content for all of you, so I edited this old piece that was originally meant to be a flashback way back in the 20ish chapters. I hope you enjoy! The next chapter will be posted later this week, either Wednesday or Thursday. 

-Ottie

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*Three Years Ago*

*Riley*

Without needing to put much thought into her actions, Riley holds out her hand and grasps Monsieur Vandois’s hand, allowing him to swing her around. She plants her heel into the floor, spinning perfectly, throwing her body back, her arm stretched out toward the wall, then swings her arm around to meet Vandois’s other one. They walk around a central point, their hands held up. 

She and Monsieur Vandois have done this same dance a hundred times. No, that isn’t an exaggeration. At sixteen years old, Riley has been shown this exact same dance so she can be prepared for when there’s a ball she’s expected to attend, to woo a man and blah, blah, blah.

Like her brother, Riley doesn’t give—in language unbefitting a princess of her position—a flying fuck about tradition. She isn't livestock. She isn't currency or a commodity to be pawned off to the highest bidder, to be sold to the prince who could give the most gold to the kingdom. At least she didn’t have it as bad as her brother. True, her father wanted her to marry to, in his words, “better the future of the kingdom”, but she wasn’t under nearly as much scrutiny as her brother.

Plus, she would be expected to marry a man, something her brother wishes he could do. 

“Your form is perfect, Princess Riley,” says Monsieur Vandois. “It is clear you have been practicing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” she says in response.

“And it’s clear she hates it,” comes an imperious voice near the door. Riley and Vandois stop dancing and turn to see Riley’s mother standing at the door, wearing a comfortably loose shirt and pants, with a bow strung over her back.

“Your Majesty,” says Monsieur Vandois, bowing way deeper than is necessary. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I’m here to take my daughter for her training,” says her mother.

“I was instructed by the King to lead Princess Riley in another dancing lesson in preparation for the upcoming ball, my queen,” says Monsieur Vandois politely, but with a strange smile on his face.

“Did you not just say her form is perfect?” she asks. Not waiting for an answer, she continues, “I see no reason for her to continue lessons if she’s perfect. She’s done for today.”

“O-of course, my queen,” he says, bowing again.

“Riley, come along,” says her mother, turning on her heel and striding away.

Without looking back, Riley hitches a smile on her face and follows her mother out of the ballroom. As they walk, her mother looks over her shoulder at Riley.

“You can’t very well learn to defend yourself dressed like that, my darling.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mother,” says Riley. “If I learn to fight in a dress, I can learn to fight in anything.”

Her mother gives her an approving smile.

“I’ve taught you so well, my daughter,” says her mother.

They walk without interruption until they reach the main doors to the Grand Palace, where they’re waylaid by a guard.

“My queen,” he says “are you leaving the palace?” He stands enough between them and the door to show he doesn’t think they should leave the palace, but not enough to make it obvious he’s trying to prevent them from leaving.

“We are,” says Elaine, “please step aside.”

The guard takes a half-step away from the door and says, “Your Majesty, perhaps you should take a couple of soldiers with you.”

The soldiers were well used to her mother leaving the palace with Riley, Aaron, or both, but at the insistence of the King, they always try to stop them. Elaine wasn’t having it.

“Step aside, soldier,” she says. “We’ll be fine.”

“But, Your Maj—”

“Do you think we can’t protect ourselves because we’re women?” asks Elaine, staring daggers at the soldier. She knew even a woman soldier would try to stop them, but enjoyed the way the soldier’s skin flushed at her words.

“N-not at all, Your Majesty, I just—”

“Then step aside. That’s an order.”

Without another word, the soldier salutes and steps aside. 

Their way now unhindered, Riley and her mother walk outside the palace. As they pass one of the guards, the Queen pulls a bow and quiver from one of them and hands them to Riley who slings them over her shoulder. Riley glances back. One of the guard motions toward them, talking to one of his fellows.

“One of them are going to follow us, you know,” says Riley.

“They’re going to try,” says her mother with a sly grin. “Here’s the lesson for today. It doesn’t matter that you’re royalty. Some people will always hold it against you that you’re a woman. You must never let them.” She looks back and Riley follows her gaze. Two guards are following them, but stop when they notice the Queen and Princess looking at them. They stop and talk to a random citizen, both of them shooting looks at the pair of them.

“You must never let them doubt you,” says her mother, echoing her previous words. “This is something you can’t simply order them to do. You must show them. Meet me at the regular spot and do not let the guards tail you there, understood?”

“Understood,” says Riley with a nod to her mother.

Without another word, they break apart, both of them darting down opposite alleyways. One of the guards yells after them, but Riley doesn’t stop. She dashes down the alley way, holding the bowstring to prevent the bow from clattering against the quiver on her back. Behind her, she notices the sounds of the guards armor as he enters the alley.

“Princess!” he shouts behind her. “Princess, please wait!”

But she doesn’t. At the end of the alleyway, she dodges right and sees a stall where a woman is selling melons. She ducks behind it quickly and looks up at the woman.

“I’ll give you a Gold Crown if you don’t say anything to the guard about to come out here,” she says. The woman nods quickly, a greedy smile on her face.

When the guards bursts out of the alleyway and takes a step toward the stall, the woman smiles at him.

“Would you care for a melon, sir?” she asks. “Only one Silver Crown. A bargain!”

The guard doesn’t give her any notice as he takes off down the road in the opposite direction Riley needs to go. Perfect.

Riley stands and wipes the dirt from her dress, then looks at the woman.

“Thank you so much,” she says.

“It was my pleasure, Your Highness. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Not at all. I’m just showing them that they can’t keep me tied down just because I’m a woman.”

“Good girl!”

Riley pushes three Gold Crowns into the woman’s hand.

“Oh, may the Gods bless you, Princess Riley. If he comes back, I’ll tell him you went back down the alleyway.”

“You’re a doll,” Riley says, then continues down the road in a jog. 

It’s hard work, moving in a dress and high heels down the cobblestone roads of Crown City, but she’s been doing it for years. Citizens give her amazed looks as they see her, but thankfully she doesn’t see any guard until she reaches the wall between the Upper and Middle Rings. Thankfully, she remembers there’s a clothing shop near here and ducks inside.

“Oh, Your Highness!” says the woman inside, walking up to her.

“Not so loudly, please. I need a cloak, quick.”

“Of course, Princess, right this way,” answers the woman, heading for the part of the shop that caters to the Upper Ring citizens.

“No, no, this will do,” says Riley, walking over to a plainer cloak. “I’ll pay two Gold Crowns for this.”

“But, Your Highness, this is only worth—”

“Three if you don’t tell anyone I was here,” says Riley, holding out the coins.

The woman takes them gingerly from Riley’s open palm.

“Do we have a deal?” asks Riley.

“I don’t know what deal you’re talking about or who you are, my dear,” she says with a wink, “but I appreciate your business and wish you a great day.”

Smiling again, Riley throws the cloak over her shoulder, pulling the hood up over her head. One things that’s universally true for everyone: money talks.

With her identity hidden, Riley was able to walk right out of the city and circle around, finding a path that leads down to a small cliff overlooking the valley. She found her mother standing at the edge, overlooking her country.

“Were you followed?” her mother asks without turning around.

“Of course not,” says Riley, moving to stand next to her mother.

Together, they look out over Crown Valley, the sunlight raining down upon its mass of trees.

“One day, this will all be yours,” her mother says, holding her hand out over the country.

“What do you mean?” asks Riley. “Aaron will become king when Father passes it on to him.”

Her mother ignores this, which confuses Riley even more. Is her mother saying she’ll somehow become queen? That is impossible. 

“Nobody knows what the future will hold,” her mother says. “Except me, of course. I can see the future.”

Riley snickers, rolling her eyes. As if.

Riley’s mother places an arm around her shoulder and holds her close. 

"Alright," says her mother after a time, "let's get in that cave and work on your target practice. One day, you're going to be the best archer in the kingdom."