Chapter 1
Once upon a time, there was a princess with hair as black as coal. Her name was called Amelia. She had the beauty and figure of a typical fairytale princess and, despite everything, she was not very similar to them. She preferred righteous speeches to jewelry and thick pants over any pink dresses. In fact, one of her favorite activities was going on adventures with her friends: a foul-mouthed sorceress, a stupid swordsman, and an unfriendly chimera.
The kingdom had certain…problems with the company she frequented. And it is that the citizens did not usually go out well when their friends were around. The capital had already suffered several destructive spells, as well as some visits from mazokus, and even the wrath of the monster Zanaffar. Not to mention the fearsome appetite of the mighty Lina Inverse, the foul-mouthed sorceress. She was known in the kitchens as "She Who Must Not Be Mentioned" and her visits to her palace instilled as much fear as the arrival of a new Rezo.
Leaving this aside, the princess was well liked by her people and considered adorable even with her tendency to long speeches, or her obsession with high places. And she was appreciated very much inside her castle. She was very kind with the service, and to Prince Phil, there was no better daughter in the kingdom. Everyone was happy with her or, well, almost everyone.
There was a person who did not agree with the princess's hobbies. King Eldoran, Phil's father. He was a bit more traditional than his son was. The king considered that princesses should be delicate beings who play the harp on Sunday mornings, pure souls who attract unicorns with their poetry. But Eldoran was in poor health and hardly left his rooms, so he and Princess Amelia hardly ever crossed paths. When they did, she took special care to please her grandfather. She dusted off her pink dress and, at her father's request, she also wore a matching yet terrible beaded necklace.
However, this last year, the king's health had been improving remarkably. And, today, the king felt better than usual. He felt strong enough to walk around the palace. And it is here, this very morning, that our story begins.
His Highness smiled at the sight of his ancestors' paintings in the hallway, and nodded to the sun shining high in the sky. Then he froze. His gaze had stopped on something that was happening in the palace courtyard. He had to blink a couple of times to believe what his eyes were seeing. Now, he watched Phil and the princess train with a frown. His eyebrows furrowed to form a large unibrow and from his mouth came a great cry: "Amelia! Amelia Wil Tesla of Saillune! Come here this instant!"
Amelia, like every child when called by her full name, knew she was in trouble. She lowered her fists and obediently approached her grandfather. "Yes? What's up, grandfather?"
"How old are you now, child?"
She frowned, it was a strange question. Her grandfather knew perfectly well how old she was. That smelled like a trap.
"Eighteen," she said carefully.
"And do you think a princess your age behaves like that? That she plays bare-knuckle in the garden for the whole court to see her?"
The smile left Amelia's face. "I…"
"And you, Phil," her grandfather interrupted her, "why do you encourage her to continue with these childish things?"
Philionel frowned slightly and went to the window as well. He was a huge man, one with the height of a horse and the robustness of a rhino. Yet, he seemed to have a certain objection to his father. The big man shrugged his shoulders, broad as wagon wheels, and murmured:
"I don't think that's wrong, father. Everyone should learn to fight and defend themselves."
The king snorted and his royal mustache twitched at the gesture.
"Bah! That's fine for the mob, but Amelia has guards by the dozen, she doesn't need to learn how to defend herself! What she needs is to brush up on protocol, to learn manners! When do you have class with your tutor, Amelia?"
"My martial arts tutor or my white magic one?"
"Your protocol tutor, girl!"
Amelia and her father exchanged a meaningful look. It was true that she had had one, but the girls stopped having those classes when they turned thirteen and she, with a little skill, had managed to get that pedant off her back at ten. Phil's lips parted slowly, almost reluctantly.
"He no longer has a manners tutor, father. She is eighteen years old."
"So? One can always learn a little more about protocol. What about your lady-in-waiting?"
"Oh, I don't have one."
Eldoran's unibrow trembled violently.
"Philionel!" He yelled, fixing his eyes on him again. "She doesn't even have a lady-in-waiting?"
"I don't have any," Amelia continued. "Because I don't think I need one, grandfather. My father trusts me and he also knows that I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
The king didn't like a single word of that phrase. Not a single one. He found her granddaughter wild and arrogant. He found her impertinent and, above all, he found her unladylike. The old man narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down. He noted her grass-stained white pants, her worn green boots, and her short, disheveled charcoal hair. His dark eyes met her blue ones then, and he found a spark of defiance in them that he didn't like at all.
"Then I think your father and I will have to have a talk, young lady. And Philionel? I don't want to see you playing those fighting games again. It's about time people behave properly here."
The huge prince stifled a sigh and murmured a soft: "Yes father."
"Great. I'll see you at lunch then."
"Are you sure, father? Wouldn't you rather have your lunch brought up to your bedroom as usual?"
"Don't worry, I'm strong enough. Besides, I think I've been away too long."
Saying this, he went to the tea room and Amelia watched him walk slowly, hunched over, while a strong feeling churned inside her.
"Dad…"
"Don't worry, Amelia. He'll forget about this soon enough."
"But what about what he said about the lady-in-waiting, and the protocol tutor…"
"Grandpa is not as young as he used to be and surely by tomorrow he will have forgotten all that nonsense."
"And if he doesn't?"
"If that's the case," Phil replied, "we'll talk to him and talk some sense into him."
She gave a sad smile and he tried to cheer her up by ruffling her black hair a bit.
"Besides, he said he doesn't want to SEE us practice. Not that we can't. Did you know that there are a lot of rooms that Grandpa doesn't even know about?"
Amelia's smile widened a bit. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. I built them just with that purpose in mind."
He gave her daughter a quick wink.
"Well, now that Grandpa is roaming around the castle I have to hide a couple of things, but I'll make you a map later if you want."
Then he took a couple of strides in the castle's direction and called out to her without turning. "See you at lunch!"
Thus, Amelia was left alone, staring blankly at her worn boots and with an incredible feeling of injustice in her guts.
The next morning dawned silent. Black clouds covered the sky and a blanket of restlessness tugged the castle. She Who Must Not Be Mentioned was on her way to Saillune today and, just in case, the cooks had already ordered twelve calves, five pigs, and a six-layer cake.
And, to Amelia's dismay, her grandfather hadn't forgotten about their small talk.
"Good morning, Your Highness!"
A chubby, cheerful face appeared in her field of vision and Amelia bounced on the bed.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my room?"
The woman bowed deeply, and she took the opportunity to take a good look at him. She was short and wore her hair up in a tight bun that made her face even rounder if possible.
"I'm Anabel," she said with a cheerful voice, "and starting from today I'll be her lady-in-waiting."
The princess screwed up her face and let out a dry. "Goodie."
Amelia stifled a sigh and got up from the bed. She made a move to dress her but, for some reason, Anabel kept taking the clothes from her hands.
"I'll help you, princess."
"There's no need, really. I can dress myself."
Anabel did not give in easily. There were a couple of soft slaps and even a few tugs until Amelia managed to rescue her white pants from the maid's hand. After that, she slid her shirt over her shoulders, and when she went for the boots…
"Where are my boots?"
"Oh, those dirty old mint boots? I threw them away this morning, Your Highness. But I brought you these pink slippers that are just…"
"Amelia, please. You don't have to call me Princess or Your Highness." Then she made a face, she especially liked those boots. "And please don't throw my stuff away without my permission."
"Forgive me, Your-Amelia."
She looked apprehensively at the bubblegum pink slippers and slipped them on slowly. When she finished, she headed for the door, closely followed by her new friend.
"What do you want us to do today, Amelia?"
"You can do whatever you want. I have to go talk to my father."
She left before Anabel could reply and strode toward the office on the second floor.
The new slippers hurt her little fingers and made an unbearable noise on the castle's red carpet. She veered to the right past the statue of the drunken lady and nearly ran into some huge black shoulder pads.
"How is it possible? There isn't a single puff pastry left in the castle!" said someone in a fearsome voice.
"I don't know," answered another with his mouth full.
Amelia would recognize the voices anywhere but, just in case there was any doubt, the first one she shouted furiously:
"Gourry! You pig! You ate them all!"
She heard a slipper slap and then a plaintive voice.
"Ouch Lina! That hurts, you know that?"
"And it's going to hurt more than that, you idiot!"
The princess, who was especially fond of that wing of the castle, decided that it was the right time to intervene.
"Lina! Gourry! When did you arrive?"
They both turned. A red-haired girl dressed in fuchsia gave him a smile and, next to her, a blond giant happily raised one of his enormous arms.
" Amelia! Long time no see! How have you been and what...?" The sight of the sorceress lowered to meet her friend's new shoes "what are you wearing?"
The princess went to speak, but then someone else appeared down the hall. It was Anabel.
"Princess Amelia, Princess!" I finally found it. Please, you can't leave like this and roam alone around the castle. I will accompany her to where…"
At that moment, she noticed the other two individuals in the hallway and fell silent. Lina raised an eyebrow and a small smile crossed Amelia's face.
"Anabel, this is my friends, Gourry Gabriev and Lina Inverse. Have you heard of them?"
From the girl's face, it was more than obvious that she had heard of Lina. And not exactly good things. "Yes, w-well…" she stammered, "you are somewhat known in Saillune."
"Really?" Her friend replied. "And you are…?"
"This is Anabel, my… my lady-in-waiting."
Lina Inverse's second eyebrow rose to meet the first.
"Lady-in-waiting?" YOU have a lady-in-waiting?"
"Yes. It's a bit of a long story. What do you think if I bring you up to date in the dining room?"
"You've read my mind," replied the sorceress.
Before leaving, Amelia waved her hand at her lady. "Excuse me, Anabel, but I would like to update my friends in private."
It was evident that Anabel was not comfortable in the presence of the sorceress. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and her left eye had developed a nervous tic. "Of course Amelia. I-if your friends accompany you, I think I'll leave and go look for you later. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?"
"Don't worry, although…"
"Yes?"
"Could you please order me some new boots?"
The girl nodded and hurried away. And, once alone, the three friends walked calmly to one of the palace dining rooms.
"Let's see if I've got it right," Lina said between bites. "Are you telling me that your grandfather (who's been in bed for years) walked around the castle yesterday and that's why today you have some tacky shoes and a new lady-in-waiting?"
She nodded. "And I suspect a new protocol tutor as well."
"Petrol tutor?" asked, of course, Gourry.
"Protocol, you dumbass," the sorceress corrected him. "It means manners."
"Uhh, why?"
"Apparently my grandfather thinks I don't behave like a lady of my age. That I'm not educated enough."
Suddenly, Lina let out a symphony of coughs. She had tried to snort through a mouth full of cookies and the result had been choking. Gourry slapped her back a couple of times, and as the cookie dough went down her throat, Lina wrinkled her nose and helped herself to a few more of those pastries. "And exactly does it mean to behave like a lady of your age? Does he want you to drink tea with your little finger up and spend all day talking about princes and unicorns?"
"I'm afraid that is precisely what he expects."
"Phil!"
"Dad!"
Prince Philionel had just passed through the door. His Majesty had dark circles the size of fists and he was holding on to the door frame in a very undignified manner. He also looked at least ten years older than yesterday.
"Aren't you serious?" asked the princess. Unicorns? Princes?!
"Don't worry, Amelia. I plan to talk to him again this afternoon. Your grandfather has already agreed to let us practice martial arts together again (as long as it's not where the service or the court can see us). In return, I'm afraid I've had to compromise on the lady-in-waiting.
Amelia made a face. "Yes, I've already met Anabel."
"Speaking of her…" murmured the prince, "she asked me to tell you that she has already taken care of your boots. You have some just like it waiting for you in your room."
That cheered the princess up a bit. "Thank you. But please, explain to me about princes and unicorns."
Philionel poured copious amounts of coffee into a green mug and heaved a great sigh. His huge mustache twitched at the breath. "Your grandfather… he thinks that neither you nor I behave like the royalty that we are. He says that the justice part and the righteous speeches are very good, but… he also thinks that we are rude and that we lack manners. He wants us to start attending dances, to have big parties and use a few of the Old Traditions."
His face soured at the mention of those words, as if a loaded diaper was just under his huge nostrils. Beside him, Amelia looked horrified. It was worse than she had imagined. It was horrible, terrible.
"Um… what are the Ancient Traditions?
Lina waved her hand.
"You know, Gorry. That bullshit of fox hunting, cricket, tea parties, and romantic courtships."
And before Gourry could ask what cricket was, Amelia interjected:
"Dad, you're not going to…
"HA! I'd rather have a dozen Mazokus over for tea than go back to the silly traditions of cricket and polo."
There was a collective sigh of relief at the table, and then a heavy silence. Everyone seemed to be staring at the table in deep thought. All, of course, except for Gourry, who had the rich mental ecosystem of a shoe. The mercenary took advantage of the silence to slide his hand to the cherry pie on the white tablecloth. He took first one piece and then another. Until only a single serving on the plate. The boy extended his hand once more and a voice broke the silence.
"Gourry...don't you dare."
The mercenary made a mischievous smile and extended his hand even more.
"Gourry…" Lina warned him.
Amelia, who was already an expert in the protocol for 'meals with Lina Inverse', finished her jello in one bite and then raised the plate as a shield.
Gourry moved his hand a little closer, and suddenly all hell broke loose on the dining room table. First, a knife came flying and then a toast followed, then the entire tablecloth went right after. Cutlery and crockery were thrown towards the ceiling and Lina shouted over the clatter of plates:
"You pig! First the puff pastries and now the cake? But how can you be so selfish?"
"Look who's talking," answered the other, "the one who has eaten all the blood sausages!"
Lina scrambled to launch herself at her partner but, when she had barely set foot on the table, another voice joined the chaos of the fight.
"What's all this screaming?" And who are these people?
King Eldoran appeared in the doorway, followed by his fearsome unibrow.
There was a moment of calm, as the cherry pie slid down Gourry's clothes and Phil sucked in an unserene breath.
"These, father, are Lina Inverse and Gourry Gabriev. They are Amelia's friends."
The king's unibrow twitched slightly. Then the old man went carefully to the chair that dominated the great white dining room. He fussily removed the remains of the boomerang toast and slowly sat down on the chair.
"I've heard about you two. I know of the chaos you create around yourself. Yet, I also know that you have helped my kingdom and my family countless times. For that, you have my sincerest gratitude and you are welcome to this castle whenever you want."
Disbelief spread through the room as juice dripped onto the tablecloth and the scent of coffee mingled with the eggs. Of course, no one present expected these words from the mouth of the king. They were too pretty to be true and, in a way, they were right.
"But," continued Eldoran, "having seen the spectacle I have just witnessed, I am afraid that you are not a good influence on my granddaughter and I can no longer allow Amelia to accompany you outside the walls of this castle."
"What?"
"Father!"
"No! Grandfather!"
"What?"
Eldoran turned a deaf ear to those present and slowly brought his fingertips together.
"Amelia, from this moment I forbid you to leave this castle without express permission."
"But…"
"Don't interrupt me when I'm talking, young lady."
"But…"
"Neither do you, Philionel. This family has been doing what they want for too long! Princess, your friends are our guests and they can enter and leave our walls at will. But I expect them to behave like proper guests as long as they keep us company."
Another deathly silence swept the room as the cherry pie slipped and everyone waited for the old man to continue. Not even Lina dared to say a word. The princess gave him a pained look, and that rebellious gleam became now a spark, a flame that shone for an instant in the blue of her eyes.
Eldoran carefully took one of the surviving pastries and brought it to his lips while looking at his granddaughter.
"I'm going to be frank with you, Amelia. It's about time you behave like a lady. How else are you going to find a husband?" The king shook his head. "No, we have to start putting limits on this castle. Phil has convinced me that you can continue training together and you can walk with your friends around the palace after your lessons, but Anabel must accompany you around and, at nightfall, princesses should not leave their rooms. So, starting today, your rooms will be locked at night. As for you, Philionel…"
Amelia didn't want to listen anymore. Her entire body was a struggle between manners and feelings. She had been raised to respect her elders, but this was just too of her. Rage flowed through her stomach and helpless tears began to well up in her eyes. "If you excuse me," she said in a small voice.
"You're excused, girl."
Amelia ran into the corridor and both, the sorceress and the mercenary, tried to follow her.
"No," Phil stopped them, "give her some space."
That night, just as the king said, Amelia's room remained locked. It was also guarded by the attentive gaze of the guards and by the yellow candles that illuminated the palace at night. However, the next morning, the kingdom woke up with a new mystery on its hands: the princess's new boots appeared worn and miserable in front of the bedroom door. And, to the king's rage, neither the guards nor Anabel knew how it had happened. Everything was a complete mystery, one that would take a few more days to be revealed.