Life I remembered as a little girl; it's nothing like life. There are so many beauties, baubles, discords, and disappointments that I was never exposed to. That's what life is as a princess. You aren't aware of the calls to your name, your legacy, and how they disappoint those around you.

I heard about the idolized whispers of the children running down the street, tugging at the thick cotton of their mothers' skirts, "she's a princess. She's a princess! I wish I were a princess, mama."

I've heard about the shouts of the bar men as they stumbled around, a hand always keeping a third point of contact - any nearby object, "she's a princess. Ha! She's a princess! An prissy Nohrian rat, she is."

And I've heard my brother say, with all the humbleness of the proper son of a king, with his head perhaps a little too high, "Yes, she's a princess. But then... she's only a princess."

I used to complain when Xander said that. And then Leo would say it to me too as we got older. I always had to disagree, validate myself with all the things I had done. Xander would nod, say I'm doing well enough, and depart. But then Leo came along. Every time I stuck up my nose at something he did or said, he would too, he would debate with all his might about how I was not a true royal, and that ladies were not meant for politics.

He learned his lesson at 12. I spoke to Camilla, whom I adored at the time, and learned how to convince Jakob to do anything I wanted. (She originally implied sexual persuasion, but, being a naive 14-year-old with absolutely no knowledge of the sort, she digressed and went with the good old begging routine.) I convinced the butler - largely because he was still in training - to supplement cinnamon with cumin in a desert and give it to Leo to taste test. Leo then told me later the taste was so vile he gagged on the spot, but he held his ground and threatened to strangle me for it. After that, Camilla whopped him into shape for me.

That was the extent of my worldly experience: a bit of bickering with my siblings.

Then came the day I was thrown into a world of hurt and anguish. It kidnapped me from my throne of lies and gave me a new seat on a bed of turmoil. Often times I could not see which way pointed up, and often times I doubted if this "up" truly existed. I panicked for a long time, all the while finding the will to understand this world had love too. It didn't make sense.

Sometimes I wished I had never questioned my place. But I did. It infuriated me, killed me. Leo had been allowed outside the castle since he was 10. I had to stay here at all hours, every day, all the time. I leaned over the balconies and watched the world with wonder, watching it all go on without me.

I had had enough.

"Tell me," Xander paused, taking a huff of air, "what sparks the sudden enthusiasm?"

I swung at him again, refusing to give him any time to recover, and disarmed him. The blade chinked as it hit the walk and then clanged as it fell prone against the stone. He instantly unsheathed a second sword and blocked himself from further unexpected assault.

"Eager," he commented with a pleased smile, "very, very eager."

"Shush, Xander."

All of my focus went into disarming him again. If I could disarm Xander, I could disarm anybody. I aimed my attacks at the fulcrum point of his blade and his hand, hoping he may loosen his grip eventually.

"You've become quite the swordsman."

"Sh!"

"So-" our blades clashed "-focused you cannot have a conversation with your dear brother?"

"Shush!"

"Very well..."

"Don't chide me," I hissed.

He took the initiative during this talk to issue a close. I swung, and he stepped back, dropping his blade.

"You are doing amazingly well, sister. Why?"

I acquiesced to his request to end and lowered my weapon. "You know why."

His face fell. "You know it's father's choice."

Xander, of anyone, should have known my struggle. I was a girl, a fighter, a soldier, locked away inside a castle. I was a fairytale princess that the public could never see. They dreamt and mocked my existence, and yet I couldn't do a thing about it.

I spat, throwing my sword at him again. He parried with relative ease, but my force threw him off balance: "I'm tired of father's choice! I can handle my own, far better than even Leo." I swung again, gritting my teeth. "You know that! I'm proving to him that I can be good enough to survive in the world! I'm strong!" I struck at him, but he had moved too far away. "I'm ready!"

"Corrin," he breathed. "It's enough."

I blew a puff of air, knowing he was right. Getting frustrated never helped one battle. I handed him my blade, and he took it away with no hesitance. Promptly following, he collected the sword on the ground as well.

"Aptly put," he said, "but you've given him no incentive to want to let you go."

"What if I told him I would never marry, being stuck in here?"

"Oh, don't say that - it scares me too."

"Xander," I whined. "You admit it's true."

He returned to the weapon rack. He replaced his sword with his legendary blade Siegfried and mine with my custom sword Ganglari. I scoffed as he handed it to me.

"Corrin, I don't want to believe you're at the age to marry either. You're my baby sister."

"I'm a woman, Xander."

"Understood," he affirmed. "Just hard to believe you'd be with a man."

I frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He hesitated; he realized his mistake and faltered for the first time in weeks.

"Uh, well-"

"Well?" I demanded.

"It's nothing. It is such a foreign concept to the both of us."

Although angry, I had to admit he had a point. I hadn't seen Xander's eyes fall upon a particular lady in years, and I was not at all acquainted with the idea of love. We were both supremely and sorrowfully novice in the field of romance.

"Xander," I wondered, "why haven't you married? You're father's first son."

He situated himself, crossing his arms defensively. "I never considered the possibility. There is no way I could properly tend to a wife."

I pursed my lips and turned my back to him, no longer willing to fight with him. It was true he was busy, but he was a royal too! The first blood of the Nohrian line. And he had never considered the possibility. Really? He watched my angered expression as I crossed my own arms over my chest. He sighed.

"Sister, I know you're anxious for the world. But it truly does not work that way."

I chewed my cheek. "That's trash, Xander. I've studied the world for years."

"Experience, dear sister."

"History, dear brother. Years, and decades, and centuries… they don't lie!"

"Taking lessons from Leo, I see. Maybe I'm simply not historically accurate."

"Charming," I replied distastefully. "You're an ass, Xander."

"Oh, Corrin. Let's finish this bickering."

"Agreed."

I whirled around and, without another word to him, left the field. I kept my arms crossed and walked with loud, dignified steps. I didn't want anyone else bothering me. However, my efforts seemed to have a completely opposite effect, for when I stepped into the kitchen, Jakob nearly lost his kettle.

He piped, mouth ajar, "My lady, are you alright?"

I refused to acknowledge him. His face fell, and his whole body turned frigid as ice.

"Oh dear."

I heard Felicia's voice too as I walked into the hallway. She sounded far more composed, yet confused.

"Jakob, what is the matter?"

"Lady Corrin... I haven't seen her throw a tantrum in years! Oh, gods..."

"It's alright, you hurry - ah! Jakob, hot! Put it on the stove, not my hands!"

"Pardon, I'm acting like you all the sudden!"

"Jakob!"

I ignored them for the most part, hoping Felicia would keep Jakob busy long enough for me to escape to my room. My hopes were in vain, however, and Jakob came barreling down the hallway, stopping me before I'd gotten halfway to my room. He carried the kettle from the kitchen, and somehow had not spilled it running down the hallway.

"Milady, I-uh." he sputtered. "W-what seems to be the problem?"

"I'm fine, Jakob. I just need you to request an audience with my father tonight."

"Oh, dear. May I ask why?"

"No," I said. "Just do it."

He looked at me with a face of horror and laughed nervously, rubbing the kettle with his free hand. Gods, he was more a mess than I.

"I need some time to think. Please, don't bother me before father is ready."

Jakob knocked at my door a few hours later. I scraped myself from my bedsheets where I had been lying awake, attempting to sleep a couple hours of my pointless life away, and gathered my hair in a tail at the side of my head. I wore this look often, especially when my armor made it difficult to secure my hair in the back of my head. I had gotten accustomed to it, and it looked presentable, at least.

I walked out of the room, and, to my surprise, the four of my siblings had showed up. Xander and Leo each appeared somewhat disheartened, but Elise and Camilla smiled at me, anticipating my audience with Father. I knew they hoped for the same results as I did.

"Corrin, dear, Corrin. Don't look so nervous! It's only Father."

Honestly, I didn't feel nervous. I had gotten too fed up with life to be nervous.

Jakob called to me and began escorting us down the halls, toward the throne room. I walked at a slightly faster pace than the others, and Leo tapped my arm so I would slow.

We quickly reached the Grand Hall. I gasped at the mere addition of knights to the place - knights lined every inch of it! Since when had Father upgraded the army and castle security? Anyhow, they all stood at stern attention, guarding the doors to the throne room, watching the area ahead of them with diligence. I glanced at one man who caught my attention.

First, I looked at him, and, at first, he appeared to be just another one of the royal guards. But something in his face, or perhaps his demeanor, told me something more. I knew him. The memory felt distant, far away, and yet it felt warm and comfortable as well. He noticed my interest and gave a stifled smile. I wish I could have greeted him - if only I had not been going to attend an audience with father. I had to continue my pace, while still watching him, and he peered down, satisfied.

"Who.." I mumbled under my breath, hoping the word would spark my memory. Nothing at all. Leo nudged my back, making sure I kept up with the others. The knights before the throne room automatically opened the doors, anticipating our audience.

The throne room was grand as ever. Gold embellishments lined the walls and stretched to the ceiling where a mosaic of precious metals made a picture of Father's beloved deity, Anankos. Blood red tapestries covered the stone walls, each presenting a different interpretation of Nohr's flag. There was one hung for each new king, and now, there were nine in total. A bare spot on the wall remained for Xander, for a tapestry Felicia had offered to create when his time came.

Father sat on his throne, eyes searching the five of us.

"Welcome, my children. What brings you here?"

I stood forward, and I took a deep, shaky breath.

"Father," I announced. "I must ask this of you. I have come of age, and yet I must remain in the castle. Do I have your blessing to leave? Or to have an explanation?"

His mouth set in a rigid, hard line.

"No," he responded, voice richocetting off the walls.

"Father!" I complained, "Please! Maybe if I know why, I will be satisfied, and I won't question my life any longer."

"Corrin, you are not to leave this castle. Especially not now. It is not your time."

"Father, may we not have a proper reasoning?" Leo complained on my behalf. I stepped forward, but Leo held me back.

"No, son. That is an order."

"Father, please!" I cried. "Every waking moment I wonder why I train, who I am! So many of your people have come to believe I'm simply a myth. I can't be that. I'm real! I need to believe I'm real..."

"Silence, Corrin! No daughter of mine will question my rule!" he boomed. "Leave at once, insolent child!"

My chest heaved. Leo glanced at me, fear in his eyes. For once, he looked at me, loving, tender, caring. He feared that Father had hurt me.

I stared back at Leo briefly, probably with true fear. I felt like I had been torn in two. I had been denied, again, by my own family! Xander yanked my arm, pulling me from the audience to escape the throne room. Before father decided upon something worse. We left, and the doors to the throne room shut, clanking. Leo stepped towards me, shaking his head.

"Perhaps it has to do with the condition of our kingdom with Hoshido. Perhaps they ployed to kill you as a child, Corrin, and he's trying to keep you safe," he offered insightfully.

Camilla agreed, "It is a plausible proposition. Brother, what do you think?"

Xander had been as solid as a stone in father's audience, and he remained stoic, even now.
"I believe it's likely," he said.

Likely? Who cared. I wanted to cry. I didn't care if it meant my life-inside these walls, I had yet to have a life. I felt a rock coalesce in my throat, keeping me from speaking.

Elise pulled my arm toward her, "Oh, Corrin! Don't cry."

Camilla stepped up to me and rubbed my shoulder. Xander, too, seemed to soften, and some ounce of regret gleamed in his eyes as if he wished he had said something against father now that I was in such distress.

Their sympathy and warmth did nothing to hold back the floodgates. Instead, the dam holding all my emotions in place cracked and collapsed, and I collapsed too, onto my knees, right before the siblings I held dear and the knights which guarded the throne room. It began as a mere whimper, and then a sob broke through. I couldn't recall much of what happened besides that; I sat in despair, bawling, the tears so thick they left stains on my cheeks and wetted the ends of my hair. Someone eventually picked me up - whom I eventually found out was Jakob - and rescued me from the humiliation of myself.

He brought me to my room, almost halfway across the castle, and laid me on my bed. The action visibly exacted him, carrying me such a distance, but I felt, with the exhaustion of pouring out emotions, no gratitude whatsoever.

"I've brought you some water," he said, tossing a blanket over me. "Get some rest, please."

Of course. I had never felt more tired.

The night shifted outside my window; leaves scratched at the castle walls and the wind whistled loudly. There were no other sounds besides this, but these, in particular, were far too loud, as if my window had been left open. I shuddered too; the cold proved to me that, indeed my window had been left open.

I gathered my blanket around me and stepped onto the floor. Jakob had removed my shoes, so the floor felt like ice against my bare toes. With delicate steps on the balls of my feet, I went to the window. The wind rushed by me.

It wasn't like Jakob to leave the window open. My heart dropped.

I saw it. A single rope hanging down from my windowsill.

My heart started beating so hard and so loud I felt as if it could shake the room. Was this real? I slowly and carefully reached out to the rope and gave it a decent tug. It stayed firmly in place, completely open to my usage.

Father ordered me to stay in the castle. But the temptation overwhelmed me. Fear or wonder did not grace my mind whatsoever. My thought: now I can leave. I was so transfixed on the rope that I did not notice the note on the floor, which I promptly picked up and unfolded.

Lady Corrin of Nohr,

We are prepared to stage a kidnapping. Climb this rope, travel to the edge of the woods, and meet with a woman by the name of Rinkah. She is prepared to safely remove you from the country. If this note and rope are in place, you still have time.

Trust us. King Garon compells war, and you are to be the martyr.

Sincerely, an old friend.

An old friend? Did I use to have friends? They determined that Father would stage my death, and based on how coldly he had treated me, I did not doubt it.

I threw the blanket off of me and shoved the note into one of my pockets. I grabbed the nearest slippers, yanked them on my feet, and prepared for my descent, gripping the rope tightly and positioning my feet together.

I did not care if father was testing me. If there was a tiny chance I could really live, I would do anything for it. Even this.

My feet left the room, and I had committed treason.

The wind proved to be a larger problem than expected. It blew the rope, so I had to adjust my feet every few moments. The cold whipped me in the back, and my arms burned before I could see the ground. But I continued, ignoring the pain and the cold. I continued on and on.

Then, my feet touched down on real, solid earth.

"Lady Corrin!"

I turned around, and it appeared I had been deceived. A Nohrian soldier stood there, eyes wide. My heart palpitated.

"You mustn't!"

He was about to run. I knew it. I could feel the tension. But before I could react, his body flew into the castle wall, and he grew limp.

"What!" I breathed.

An arm encircled my neck, choking me and throwing me backward. A linen flew over my head, my hands ripped away from me into binds behind my back.

Everything went dark.

Author's Note: Thank you, everyone, for reading this! Unlike when I first posted this story, I do have a complete (or mostly complete) storyline and direction. I appreciate the ideas and criticizisms of anyone. Thanks so much!