Chapter 1

Amy had only a few more steps across the marbled courtyard until she reached what promised to be an hour of delicious freedom. She was hidden behind an archway, strategizing the best way to jump the final hurdle: open air. Out in the courtyard, she knew she would be a sitting duck. If she were to be caught, she was not confident in her ability to come up with a convincing lie. She wasn't running away to secret knight training! - she would try to explain - she was… well, she was running away to secret knight training.

Amy steeled her breath and opted to run, moving as swiftly as she could despite her skirts and bodices and the heavy jewels dangling from her pink quills. She took off, the gold bracelets on her wrists jangling, her eyes trained on the heavy wooden door leading to freedom, hoping that there was no one around to hear her and -

"My lady?" came a delicate voice just as Amy passed by the hedges in the garden. She froze.

"Oh, Cream!" She turned mechanically, feigning nonchalance by smoothing her skirts casually. "What're you doing out here?"

"Just a little gardening, your majesty…" The girl eyed Amy innocently, "Pardon me for being so bold, but, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be studying?"

Amy looked into Cream's warm eyes, feeling her own expression break into one of desperation.

"I've - I've already finished my studying for the day," she began - which wasn't a lie. Amy was a skilled historian. She didn't need the full hour for studying, she wanted to fight. "I'm just… doing some hands-on learning."

"I see…" Cream said slowly, turning back to her gardening. The young rabbit tossed a small smile over her shoulder. "Well, better get to your… lesson then."

Amy beamed at the lady in waiting, stopping herself from cheering and drawing more attention. She whirled around and hurried through the heavy wooden door leading to the training arena - finally, freedom in her grasp.

As she entered, she sighed in relief, relishing the strong smell of dirt, sweat, and metal polish. She smiled as she looked out at the large arena, now devoid of fighters and spectators for the time being, instead filled with hay targets and racks of weapons.

"You're late," a growl cut through her bright mood.

"Or you're early," she swung her brilliant stare towards her teacher for the afternoon and smirked. "I made it Shadow, that's all that matters."

He was leaning against the wall next to the door of the changing room, arms crossed, spined helmet by his feet.

"Just a moment," she said, placing a light hand on his shoulder as she strode past him into the changing room - usually reserved for the men of the royal army, but empty for now.

His face betrayed no passion for her lateness as he nodded and looked out at the arena.

"You know I could be killed for doing this," Shadow said to the empty stands. "You could at least bother to be on time."

"And you know I would never let them, Shadow," her reassurances came from behind the door.

Amy began to shimmy out of her many layers of clothing. Despite Shadow's insistence that he wasn't invested in their training sessions, she couldn't help but notice the way that he thoughtfully folded her training clothes neatly for her, left in the same corner of the changing area every night. She stepped back out into the waning daylight in trousers, a blouse, and a red vest - the official color of the Rose Kingdom. Shadow came up quickly in front of her and she jumped.

"Your senses are awake, good." He said, holding her chest plate up to her, nodding for her to hold onto the sides. He walked around to her back to strap her in, and she held her breath as he tied her into the armor.

"This thing is so uncomfortable," she grumbled, grunting as he yanked.

"That's because it's not made for… you. Now be still. If you want to fight, you must acclimate to the feeling of wearing armor. You're lucky I haven't made you train in the full thing yet." He turned sharply and selected a sword from the weapons rack, fitting his helmet onto his head.

Amy felt her smile return as she summoned her hammer and squared up in the arena. Finally, time for what she was longing for - a bit of action.

Shadow became even more serious, if that was possible, as the two settled into their private training session. His sword clashed against the grip of her impossibly large hammer, and they began to sweat through shouted instructions and repeated drills. They fought like this for nearly three hours as the sun set and the room grew dark, exchanging nothing but grunts, instructions, and blows to the other. Amy felt like her most powerful self when fighting. She understood that violence was a tool that should not be taken lightly, but she was born with the gift of a hammer for a reason, and she wanted to use it.

"I'm going to make an incredible captain of the guard someday!" Amy laughed triumphantly as she swept her hammer under Shadow's feet, finally sending him crashing forward. Amy breathed hard as she watched him recover. He paused on one knee, facing her, and she turned away from him to rest her hammer on her shoulder plate as their time to train ran out.

"Not if you don't live long enough to become queen."

She heard the malice in his rich voice and the clang of his armor before she felt him pressed against her back, and the cold metal of his blade against her throat. She was yanked harshly into his chest, her arms forced to her side. She stiffened instinctively against Shadow's arm around her waist, hammer disappearing. She was trapped, breathing heavily against his chest. She tried desperately to still the odd mix of fear and excitement swelling in her chest and spreading to her face.

"Cheap trick," she breathed, grinning.

"Villains don't fight fairly, Princess," he quipped back into her ear, and pushed her away from him. She almost tripped over her boots, but steadied herself on her re-materialized hammer. She gathered herself and turned back to her teacher to say something clever and biting, but words escaped her.

"You're improving." Shadow offered, removing his helmet to wipe his brow.

"Well, it doesn't feel like improvement when you keep winning," she scoffed, heading to the changing room.

"It's my job to win," Shadow said somberly as he dipped a cold washcloth into the community washbasin and wiped at his sweaty quills. "If I didn't win, you'd be dead ten times over. It's your job to find a husband." Shadow resumed leaning against the wall, tossing the cool rag around his neck.

Amy bristled alone in the changing room at his words. She pulled up her dress and corset, holding it over her chest.

"You can come in," she called softly. The room was dark now, only moonlight illuminating the room. She could only hear Shadow enter, his breathing and the musical ringing of his armor giving him away as he moved towards her. She practiced tracking him through the room. Shadow touched her shoulder as gingerly as he always did when it came to this part of training, letting her know he was behind her.

"You sound like my father when you say things like that," Amy said softly. She took a deep breath in, just in time for Shadow to give a tremendous yank on the strings of her corset. It was the opposite feeling from being tied into the armor. Both were uncomfortable, but she had chosen to be tied into the breastplate. She wouldn't wish a corset on her worst enemy.

"Our duty is to the kingdom," Shadow said in his rich monotone as his fingers worked the laces, "I'm only stating the facts."

"I have known what the facts of my life are for as long as I have lived. I don't need any more reminders." Amy said, with a touch of venom.

Shadow cleared his throat as Amy turned to him, now laced back into her finery.

"I won't be here tomorrow," he said simply. "I'm needed on a mission for two weeks. We'll resume training when I return, your highness."

Amy took her old friend's hand, "Enough with the formalities, please Shadow." She sighed and looked up at him. "I wish you safe travels and a swift return, of course. And when you come back, I'll finally kick your ass." She smiled as she dropped his hand, but he - of course - did not smile back, and they quietly left the dark changing room together.

Amy shuffled along the corridor leading to the throne room with Shadow by her side. He had been her personal guard for over 10 years at this point, assigned to her at the ripe age of 13, when he was 16. They'd been together almost every minute of every day since then, and yet he rarely let personal feelings or information slip into their relationship. When he agreed to begin her training in secret last year, she was ecstatic and surprised at his almost easy approval, and she worked hard to prove herself to him. She couldn't always tell if she was succeeding, however.

She entered the throne room silently with Shadow in hot pursuit.

"Hold him for a week and see if he talks. If he doesn't, we'll arrange a public execution," her father was saying, then waved away the knight who knelt before him.

She approached her father demurely.

"What's the news, father?" She asked as she sank into a curtsy.

Her father looked uninterested, "A thief was caught by the guard today. Perhaps he can lead us to the camp of ruffians that's causing us so much trouble."

"You're going to kill the thief in a week? Why not… give him a job or deal with the thieves more humanely?" She began hesitantly.

"I am not here to discuss this with you, Amy. I am in charge, and I say cut out the rot quickly and easily."

Amy heard Shadow shift as quietly as he could in his dark armor near the door. This was not unusual, having tense conversations with her father in front of him. While Shadow was unwilling to share anything about him with her, he bore witness to every messy detail of her life.

Amy steeled her face and delicately brushed her pink quills out of her eyes. "Then, why have I been summoned?" She knew the answer, but did her best to not work herself up prematurely.

"Invitations are being sent out for your 25th birthday ball in two weeks," He handed her a thick parchment with a wax seal bearing the crest of the Rose Kingdom. "The invitation leaves nothing to question; you will choose your husband at this ball." He turned his head away from her, his mane of pink quills trailing behind.

"Father-" She began to no avail.

"You're 25 for God's sake Amelia, I have let you have your 'fun.' You must find a husband next month, I need time to train him to rule the Kingdom properly."

"I will run the kingdom properly, father-" She tried.

"You cannot, a woman cannot be a part of the knighthood. You know nothing of battle, of strategy! You will be a dignitary and your husband-"

"I could be the captain of the guard father, if you just-"

"Do not interrupt your king!" He bellowed, snapping to look directly at her. Fierce pairs of bright green eyes clashed. Her father could never blame her for her passionate spirit, she got it from him.

Amy stared defiantly at him, but she had nothing to say. She knew she could not change his mind.

"You will prepare yourself for engagement, and we will select a proper suitor together." He quieted down. His eyes softened, and he opened his mouth as if to say more, but then thought better of it and promptly shut it.

The hall was too quiet. Amy couldn't stand not having a retort, the agency to do something about her situation. She turned on her heel, despite not being dismissed by her father, the parchment invitation heavy in her hand.

"Amy-" her father called after her, but his voice was a distant echo.

"Goodnight," she said sternly as she moved swiftly through the door to the throne room. Amy heard the patter of Shadow's boots swiftly behind her. She broke out in as much of a run as she could muster.

"Your highness!" She heard Shadow call to her, at first far away. Then, "Amy!" and he was right behind her, catching her hand gently. So gently that it shocked her.

He stopped her dead in her tracks, the two of them hidden behind a large pillar in the courtyard. In his one hand, he held her softly, and with his other, he held his helmet under his arm.

"I…" He let his breath go loudly, a sound so heavy it was as if he had been holding it since he became her guard.

"Let me go, Shadow," She huffed, glancing at him. "I'm just… I need to think."

"You can't be this upset, this is…" He began. She saw the flash of an emotion in his red eyes that she couldn't place. His expression wasn't one of kindness, but it wasn't as stoic as he usually appeared either.

"My duty, I get it," She retorted quietly, "Thanks so much for the reality check."

"This shouldn't be that hard for-" He tried again.

"I know, I know this is something I have to do 'for the kingdom'…" She was snapping at him, but she couldn't help that she was fuming. "Forgive me if I try to forestall my fate a bit, Shadow. Everyone thinks you're disagreeable when you're disagreeing with them, but I can't just smile and get married to someone I don't know or care for. And I believe, with all of my being, that I am enough for this kingdom. More than enough, just as I am! You're training me, for God's sake, Shadow! You wouldn't have agreed to that if you didn't believe that I could rule, that I could become a tactician… I know I could…" Her anger peaked and fizzled. She became aware that Shadow was still holding her hand when he offered it a gentle squeeze. She looked up at him and was surprised at the intensity in his eyes.

"I know you could," He said stoically. His voice betrayed no kindness, but his words were tender. "But running away like a child when you feel your temper flare is not going to convince your father."

Amy had no response. She simmered - he was right.

Shadow sighed and let go of her hand, and rubbed his temple. "I didn't want to tell you this, I wanted you to train for training's sake but… the planning for the tournament of champions has begun… It will be held in a month's time. There is no written rule about… women competing."

Amy's ears perked as she understood what he was implying. "You… you're a genius!"

"Find a fiancé," Shadow commanded, "one who will be amiable and soft-hearted. While your father trains him, continue your own training to show the world what a leader you will be by winning the tournament. Your father may be so impressed he'll see you're fit to rule. And perhaps… Well, then you may be able to choose whether or not to go through with the wedding."

Amy slowly turned away from him, stunned.

"How long have you been planning this?" She whispered. She was beginning to feel lightheaded with glee.

Shadow bowed his head, hoping he was displaying proper reverence, afraid for once in his life that he was overstepping. He had known for a long time that his relationship with Amy was growing too close for his comfort, but he couldn't ever bring himself to request being moved from her post. She was his dear friend, his ward, and his future ruler. It was in his nature to bow to her, like a sunflower that cannot help but face the sun.

"I believe in you," he said earnestly. Suddenly, he felt soft gloves on his face, and delicate lips found his cheek for a chaste kiss.

Amy pulled away beaming, "What would I do without you?" She turned and hurried toward her room.

Shadow froze for only a moment before he sprung back by her side, his face frozen once again in his usual angry stare.

"Where are you going?" He asked gruffly.

"I still need some time to think. If it's a strategist they want, it's a strategist they'll get." She glanced at Shadow's serious face, delighted by his confidence in her and a new way to turn her hopelessness into agency. "With you away for the next two weeks, I'll be on my own to train. I need to keep my momentum if this is going to work."

This was partly true, but Amy also needed to get away from the too-heavy stone of this castle. She suddenly saw a way out in her mind, but that didn't mean she wasn't still surrounded by small-minded men, corsets, and protocol that were all relentless in their attempts to squeeze the life out of her. She needed to clear her heart of all the things weighing her down. She wanted to be alone.

As they reached her room, which Shadow was not allowed in as a matter of decorum, Amy assured him that she would be in for the night. He bade her goodnight, and the two parted tentatively. She knew he would be right outside the door all night, and was deep in her own mind as Cream entered to undress her for the evening.

"Lot's on your mind tonight, Miss Amy?" Cream asked as she unlaced Amy's corset and prepared her nightgown.

"Actually, yes…" Amy mused, fingering her quills. "Do you think it would be horrible to be married to a stranger?" Amy asked. She almost laughed at herself. Cream was no more than 13, far too young to think of these things. And yet, who else would she ask?

"I think that it's more likely that it would be scary than it wouldn't be, if that makes sense…" Cream said slowly, "But, you are a princess. I expect your suitors would be more inclined to be gentlemen, wealthy scholars and men with titles and chivalry."

Amy wasn't sure if she agreed. Often men in power displayed the ruthless need to keep it. She, too, would be ruthless about her power if it meant getting to create a kingdom she would want to live in.

Her lady-in-waiting left her in a satin nightgown, the moonlight streaming in through the window panes of the door to her balcony. Amy felt emboldened by the cloak of night. She pulled open her armoire, rummaging underneath her undergarments looking for her contraband. She hadn't gone outside the castle walls in a few months. Her training with Shadow kept her tired and satisfied, her appetite for adventure satiated. But Shadow wasn't going to be here starting tomorrow, and she needed to train harder than ever in the coming month. She pulled on her stolen pageboy outfit, back in trousers and blouse, tucking her already short quills up into a brown cap. She was going to get in a little extra training tonight, but not in the arena. She was heading out into the kingdom.