It was an art indeed, to try to change your appearance from a girl to a Knight, and that is the exact challenge that Maya took on every day. She sat in her tent; anxious for the upcoming joust, but that is not what should be worrying her. Prince Edward would be attending the joust and she knew how easily she could be arrested. Maya donned her helmet, slipping into the adrenaline induced dream-world she lived in.
Maya stepped out of the tent, rolling her shoulders back and stepping with confidence, she made her way to the nearest Farrier.
"Kate." Maya hissed between clenched teeth. The Farrier jumped ever so slightly that it seemed as if she merely had a twitch. A frown spread across her dirt-smudged face as she stepped towards Maya.
"What is it? You're going to be late." Kate replied, twirling a hammer in her agile hands.
"I know, I know, but I came to get a good luck."
"Well then…good luck little sister." Kate wrapped her arm around the cool armor that held her sister safely, but appeared as a brother.
"Thanks." Maya shrugged away from Kate's arm as a crowd of bystanders neared. She hurried over to her tent, as fast as her armor would allow, and snatched the reigns of her four year old, dapple grey gelding.
Tradition held strong, and her horse was a purebred Kladruby, used for the joust. Her horse had acquired the name Mirage, or Mira, from the group of fans she had entertained over the past two years. She walked to the arena, already packed with fans and royalty. The Black Prince of Whales, Edward, sat farthest away from her. Maya sighed, some of her anxiety lifted.
With the help of her assistant, she climbed onto Mira and he answered with a husky and low grunt, accepting the weight. As Maya was announced by her assistant she surveyed her competition. That face…that round, childlike face looked familiar. Her hands were crossed over Mira's neck as her competitor was announced by a rather boisterous man. A look of recognition lit across her face, thankfully hidden by her helmet. The look was accompanied with an eye roll.
"Sir Ulrich Von Lichtenstein." She mumbled at the same moment that his announcer introduced.
"Sir Marcalic."
The voice surprised Maya, but she responded quickly to her assistant.
"Yes?"
"Pay attention." He whispered.
Maya nodded as she was handed her lance, customized to be somewhat lighter than most. The flag dropped and everything seemed to go against the regular time, faster. Her heel grazed the underbelly of Mira and with a short rear and leap he made his way across the field. Her eyes locked with the Prince and she lost focus. Her mind was so distracted that she could barely comprehend the blow from Sir Ulrich that sent her to the ground.
Instinct forced her hands to pry the helmet from her face. The mistake was made…and it was permanent. Her bronze, curled, hair spilled around her face and rested in coils around her shoulders. She took a deep breath as her assistant reached her first.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered, and then he was gone, leaving her to face the consequences alone. Cocking her head backwards she could see the Prince making his way to the arena. With effort, Maya unbelted her armor from her chest and stood. A shrapnel of Sir Ulrich's lance was lodged on the right side of her slender figure between her rips. She gasped in surprise at the blood, but ignored it. Her hand found Mira and she swung onto his back, practically laying facedown onto his warm body. He tore past the fans and bystanders, saving her from death, for now.