[Words: 3694]

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Chapter 3:

Life Goes On

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Mum wandered back into the dining room carrying the cans of chilled diet coke. I thanked her as she handed me mine.

Luka smirked. "Ah yes finally, my coke of can, thank you, peasant."

Mum whacked him around the back of his head while dad and I cracked up, laughing harder when mum refused to give Luka the can.

"Mum!"

"No, you absolute piece of shit."

Luka gaped at her.

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(Age 8)

"Ouch!" I pouted and sucked on my bleeding finger. "Stupid needle."

I was determined to improve my sewing, and I wanted to make my own clothes—don't get me wrong, I loved those that I was given as a princess, but I had always dreamed of making my own, or for others.

And I wanted to make use of the skill when the time came to find Melly. I had taken textiles as a GCSE when at school and dabbled in making my own clothes, but I had not wanted to go into that industry—despite how cool it would've been to make costumes and stuff. I wanted to help patch and even make new clothes for us all.

Ban's constant pink-red outfit during the first season was… well, I wasn't too keen on it. I wanted to make him something better.

I had commandeered a few blank books for my sketching. My hand had become far steadier after I had taken up archery. It helped me refine my skills once more, and I started teaching myself to design and plan clothes. I had help from my sewing tutor and seamstresses whom I had gone out of the way to meet and speak to regarding the process of creating clothing. They were more than willing to share their knowledge—whether that was because I was a princess or not, I wasn't sure, but I was thankful for the opportunity either way.

(It probably helped that they were paid handsomely for it.)

I had been doing a lot in the last year after waking up in the infirmary hardly remembering anything that happened on the day of Zaratras' death.

("Ellie!" Veronica gasps, lurching away at the force in which I sat up, gasping for air.

"Ronica?" I rasp, brain confuddled. Insides knotting, I searched the room.

"Father and Margret will be relieved to see you awake," Veronica continued as she climbs onto the bed to pull me into a hug. I happily return it as I try and wrap my head around what happened and why I can't remember what might have landed me here.

"What happened?"

Veronica says nothing.

I don't get any answers until Father and Margaret arrive.)

I had been told I was found unconscious and injured leant against a wall. I had been caught in an explosion while the Holy Knights had hunted the Sins down. That Meliodas had been seen with my form and people had believed he was trying to kidnap me.

I doubt that but I couldn't remember anything of that day.

Keeping busy was all I could do to forget Meliodas, the sudden lack of his presence left a gaping hole inside my chest—my lifeline was gone, and so I did the only thing I could think of: work to the point that I forgot about him.

It… it didn't work nearly as much as I wanted it too, but when I was focused, I could forget for a time. So I threw myself into my studies: politics, charity events, history and more. All the lessons a Princess would be expected to know and live by. The dos and don'ts; sometimes it could be frustrating and demanding, leaving me exhausted most days.

I had known this life wouldn't be simple—there would always be expectations—but I hadn't truly anticipated just the work that went into being royalty.

(Stars, that was never a thought I would have had in a thousand years as Bethany and yet…)

Throwing myself headfirst into my studies had caused a number of people to worry but it was the only thing I had at the moment, the only true distraction because they could only fill the void for so long.

It didn't mean I stopped hanging around them, I just focused more on my studies than playing. I met Vivian for the first time while watching Gil train (I had been sketching fighting stances and tyring to train myself not to cower at the sound of thunder, stupid fears) and it left a sick feeling in my stomach at the way she ogled over him from afar.

My chest hurt to think about everything that had happened in such a short amount of time—I had spotted that blasted crow that watched over Gil, but did not have as much luck with Margaret, however. That didn't mean I felt any less sick. I was tempted to just strangle the bitch and be done with it.

I focused back on my embroidering and needle in my hands.

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I drew the bowstring to my anchor point, which was the corner of my eye, and released it. The arrow soared through the air until it hit the target, just outside the bullseye. I sighed and quickly notched another arrow and released it.

My archery had improved greatly in the almost nine months I had been practising. Weinheidt was pleased by my progress, but I found myself oddly frustrated as of late. I clenched my jaw; I didn't understand the frustration—whatever was causing the weird feeling was getting obnoxious.

I reached for another arrow in my quiver, my fingers brushing the fletching, but stopped and instead focused on the bow itself. I frowned, raising the shaft and drew the string without an arrow. I pulled it back to my anchor point, peering down at the target.

I took a deep breath, feeling the draw weight beginning to pull at my arm. I ignored it, however, and focused on the target again.

I closed my eyes, brushing against my magic—it was weird to think I had magic, and that magic was something like a core, the very centre of my being. While not a tangible thing, I could metaphorically brush against the core and pull at it to draw on it.

My healing was coming along slowly—

I slowly lowered my bow.

—but I had only really made progress with healing minor wounds, larger ones were harder and took more out of me. It was… it left me exhausted if I wasn't careful about how often I used it. I could easily heal minor wounds for a while, but something like a sword injury was difficult; sometimes, I managed to heal it halfway which at least showed I had made progress despite my failures to make head way.

I opened my eyes again and drew the bow, pulling at my core because it fluttered as I had drawn the string. My magic sang and I became increasingly aware of the glowing arrow now notched.

My eyes widened, but I focused on the target instead. I released and watched the arrow fly, piercing the bullseyes and sending the target airborne. My mouth dropped open as it finally landed and the arrow burst into soft sparks, vanishing.

My arms fell to my sides. "Huh."

(I failed to realise that the use of my power had activated the triskele symbol for the first time.)

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…Elizabeth!…

I jolted awake, pushing myself up and trying to catch my breath, feeling like I had run laps around the training yard.

I blinked, peering around my room as I slipped my legs over the edge of my bed. I sighed. I kept hearing a strange voice call my name in my sleep. I don't know if it's from a dream I can't remember or something else. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter of the two.

I pushed myself to my feet and wandered to my window, pulling the curtain back to watch the night sky. The moon was already descending, and the sky was slowly fading to the reds and oranges of a sunrise.

I kept the curtain pulled back and lit the candles in my room. I slipped on my dressing gown and sat my butt down at my desk, flipping open my sketchbook. The first several pages were failed attempts at recalling what my Before family looked like.

I could picture them if I closed my eyes, but when I tried to draw them, however, I could never get it right.

"Tch." I ripped the pages out and scrunched them up. No point keeping them if they were failures.

What is the point in trying to remember them anyway.

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(Age 10)

I stood beside Veronica as the party continued. It was Margaret's sixteenth birthday today! She was officially being announced Crown Princess too so everyone important was here—nobles, Earls and their ladies; Howzer, Griamore, Henderickson, Dryfus, Gil.

After making conversation with Uncle Denzel, I was unable to avoid Henderickson and Dreyfus so I spent half an hour speak with them because excusing myself was rude and unladylike. Henderickson asked how my studies were going and if I was making any progress.

I had told him about the Light Arrows, as I had dubbed them since they seemed to be made out of pure light. I hadn't hit someone—only targets—so I don't know what sort of damage I could do, but from the targets, I could possibly send someone flying or injury them far more greatly than a regular arrow.

It also meant I didn't need to worry about carrying a quiver with me, which was an upside!

Both men complimented me on my work. It felt genuine, and I would like to think so, especially since I don't know how far Hendrickson's research has gone and Dreyfus was as odd one so I wasn't sure what to think.

But after escaping to Veronica, painfully watched Gil have to hold back his true emotions for Margaret because of Vivian. The two were dancing around each other, sending one another glances but never once speaking words of their affection.

"Your Highnesses," a voice called from my left.

I turned to see Abbott Pierpoint, son of Earl Gregory Pierpoint, who was four years my senior. I could tell he would grow up to be a good-looking man, with dark brown hair, pale blue eyes and an already charming smile. He was in training to become a Holy Knight. His father had been eager to have my father introduce us two years ago and I had the faint suspicion Earl Gregory had hopes to have my father agree to me marry Abbott one day. The idea had me biting back a grimace.

He held his hand out. "May I have this dance?"

I smiled and knowing if I declined it'd reflect badly back on me, I accepted.

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We trot along the well-worn road, Weinheidt just a few steps ahead on his horse. I had never left the walls surrounding Liones before; this was my first official outing ever and it was because Weinheidt wanted to work on my skills with moving targets.

It was exciting! I finally get to go hunting!

The outing was meant to be just a few hours but, unfortunately, that didn't happen.

It was an hour into our journey—Weinheidt had a specific location in mind which was a two-hour ride—when a group of bandits jumped us. Lula, my horse, reared up in surprise at all the noise.

"Get ready, Elizabeth!" Weinheidt ordered. It was for safety to just call me by my name.

I pulled my bow from my back, fixing the string in place and took aim at the closest bandit; I didn't hesitate in releasing a Light Arrow, that realisation not sinking in. The bandit screamed as it hit him in the chest, throwing him backwards with a burst of light that sizzled skin.

The other bandits cried out for their fallen friend, but Weinheidt made quick work of them until all had been taken down.

I nearly dropped my bow, heart pounding in shock…

I… I just… did I really just kill a man?

"Your highness!" Weinheidt's hand on my shoulder brought me back, and I flinched but met his eyes. He'd jumped off his horse to approach.

"You did good." He nodded, and I failed to blink back tears. "Remember it was either him or you. You must always remember that, you understand?"

I nodded mutely, swallowing thickly. It didn't make it any easier.

I stared at my now bloodied hands, even if that blood was metaphorical.

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I had forgotten how being sick sucked a lot. Surprisingly, there were no outbreaks of disease or plagues, but I suppose that with magic, healing and finding ways to cure such illnesses was an easy feat.

Didn't mean that the chicken pox or just the flu didn't do their rounds.

I wasn't the only victim of the flu, Margaret and Howzer had caught it as well. I suspect I had gotten it from Margret because I spent a lot of time recently with her, and I had passed it on to Howzer since he was training to become my personal knight.

But being restricted to bed rest was a pain. Puking was as disguising as I had always remembered it to be.

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"May I go with you, dad?" I asked, holding the front of my dress up to elegantly jog after him. He was going to Camelot! I wanted to go with; I wanted to meet Arthur!

Father slowed to a stop and peered down at me. I just gave puppy eyes. "Please?"

"I am going for politics, my dear," His eyes flickered with amusement. "I did not think you liked politics."

I pouted. "I don't, but I want to see another kingdom!"

Father laughed heartily, patting my shoulder and teased: "Should I be worried about something you might be scheming?"

I spluttered. "N-no! That's not what—!"

He continued laughing. "As you wish, Beth."

I squealed in excitement. Yay!

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"Slader."

The masked Knight rushed forward, rescuing Arthur from the fall. Arthur's brother, Kay, if I recall correctly, watched on silently. I had seen how he had thrown his sword at Arthur causing him to stumble backwards.

Slader leapt back up, holding the amber-haired boy.

Goodness, he was adorable. He had the cowlick even at this age and was even more adorable in person than in the show.

But I had come to the realisation that the people here were real, and while most were still the same, they each had slight differences. Melly's height, Gil's hair being a darker pink—almost a red-ginger, Veronica's hair was a soft purple like Margaret's. I could go on for a while if I wanted to.

Once Slader set Arthur on his feet, he thanked him and turned to Kay. "I don't blame you," was all he said, it was likely referring to a conversation we had not arrived in time to hear.

I listened as Father spoke to Arthur, commending his kindness, and lightly mentioning he should aim for king instead of just a Holy Knight.

Father revealing he was king of Liones was amusing to watch, Arthur's eyes had widened comically large and he had squawked. I couldn't stop the giggle of laughter that escaped.

"And this is my youngest daughter, Elizabeth," Father introduced.

I curtsied. "It's lovely to meet you, Arthur."

He blushed and bowed. "And it is just as lovely to meet you, Princess Elizabeth."

I laughed softly.

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"Camelot sure is beautiful!" I awed.

Arthur had offered to take me around the kingdom, well, at least the nicer areas for safety anyway. My older escort and my personal knight-in-training were several paces behind, giving us enough space to have privacy but not far enough that Alfred and Howzer would lose sight of us.

"Thank you!" Arthur beamed. "Have you been to many other Kingdoms?"

I shook my head but grinned with excitement. "No, this is my first time visiting another. I gave my father the puppy eyes to get him to agree to allow me to come along."

We shared a laugh. Stars, I already love this precious boy. Our laughter petered off slowly and I finally asked something that had been bothering me.

"May I ask why it is that your brother doesn't like you?" I tilted my head. "You seem so kind and want nothing more than to get along."

Arthur sighed. "Well, you see, I'm adopted. So I think it originally came from anger at our father. But it just grew into hate because I was more skilled than him—" his eyes widened at the words, and began stuttering over them. "N-not that I'm bragging or anything!"

I grinned and winked. "Don't worry, Arthur."

He sighed heavily in relief.

"I'm adopted as well, you know."

Arthur's eyes widened. "R-really? But… I thought you'd always been with the Kingdom since birth."

I shook my head and explained: "I was brought there when I was a baby by a friend. My mother, the late Queen, decided she wanted to adopt me. I'm ever grateful and will love my family for the rest of my life because of that."

We wandered by a poster board and slowed to a stop when I realised there were wanted posters pinned there. I moved toward it curiously, huh. They had the Sin's posters up here. It was weird to see because they looked similar yet different to the future ones—but the artists were likely ageing them up slowly each time they made new ones over the years.

"The Seven Deadly Sins, huh," Arthur mused. "I want to be able to meet Meliodas one day."

"Aren't they criminals?" I teased, ignoring the ache that struck at my heart at the thought my Meliodas.

He flushed. "It's just that I'd heard about what they did and really admired it, but to hear about what they'd done… something doesn't seem right, you know?"

I nodded. Sparing a quick glance at my escorts to see they weren't in earshot, and whispered lowly: "Something fishy happened, for sure. I knew the Sins before they were outlawed, and they were all really nice. Something like them supposedly attempting to overthrow father was jarring and unreal almost. Very out of character."

"You don't think they did it?" Arthur turned to me, eyes wide. I nodded.

Of course, I knew they didn't with my foreknowledge but, well, I couldn't exactly tell Aurther, could it?

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(Age 11)

Hunting trip, hunting trip, I hummed gleefully as Weinheidt and I road along the path. We had been on a few since the original incident. Thankfully we had never had any more trouble in regard to bandits.

Whenever Father agreed to allow these trips, it was always exciting.

Although Weinheidt would be joining the Dawn Roar soon, and so this would be our last trip for the foreseeable future, a kind of fair well, as I had jokingly commented, Weinheidt had laughed—

Okay, so I may have spoken too soon. Again.

I rushed through the forest, batting away branches and bushes, listening to the shouts of some, what I believed to be, bandits. But it was an orchestrated attack. Weinheidt and I had been purposefully split apart and I had only managed to grab my bow before running. Though, it seemed the bandits knew who I was and were going to attempt to ransom me off. Or at least under the impression I was a noble child.

That's so not going to happen.

I leapt over a rock and the drop was further than I had thought it was going to be and I slipped, skidding down the slope made of rock and soil. I landed jarringly and grunted, grimacing.

"She's down here!"

"Crap," I hissed and pushed myself to my feet and took off running—

I hit the ground, screaming bloody murder. It took several long, agonising seconds through the pain to realise I had been hit with an arrow. I sobbed, wanting the pain to stop.

"There you are."

I was yanked up, and I screeched. The movement just jarred the arrow in my thigh. I fought against the man holding me. "Let go!"

"Shut up, brat!" He snapped, a wicked grin crawled across his face. "You're gonna get us quite the pretty penny."

I spat in his face, and he sneered, shoving me to the ground again. I cried out, feeling the arrow bend. He shoved his foot on my chest, and I choked on a breath, the pressure of his foot heavy.

I don't remember much after that. I was told that my magic had reacted defensively and attacked the bandits that had been attacking me, taking them all out at once.

I could recall only that of a bright explosion, and that I was exhausted and drained for days afterwards.

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"It's a goddess mark," Henderickson confirmed.

Because oh my stars, the explosion of my magic had active the triskele in my eye.

Father sighed heavily. "So what does that mean exactly?"

"She's an Apostle of the Goddess race," Henderickson answered quietly, thumbing his bottom lip. There was something akin to awe in his voice.

I clasped my hands together. "Is… is that a bad thing?"

"No." He shook his head. "Far from it, but it may attract the wrong sort of people who wish to use you selfishly."

Like Fraudrin? I bitterly thought. "Then… what should we do?"

Eye patch, eye patch, please say eye patch.

"It would be beneficial to cover her eye to hide it." The Grand Master dipped his chin. "Perhaps an eye patch or sorts?"

"We could say your sight has weakened." Father nodded, eyes solely on me. I blinked up at him. "Is that okay, my dear?"

I nodded. "It's alright."

Hell, yeah. Gonna look so badass.