Blinking the water from her turquoise eyes, Katarina shifted herself onto the bank of the small lake, the water felt cool in the shade as Katarina squeezed the fresh spring water from her auburn locks, the small lake that was hidden away just outside the capital city of Xerya, gleamed in the midday sunshine. No one seemed to know about the location except for Katarina, and she intended to keep it that way—save for her best and only friend, Colette. Tossing her long wavy hair back she looked back out over the water, seeing her friend emerge from the water, throwing her long, elegant blonde hair back.
Colette smiled at Katarina as she swam towards the shaded bank, “Thank you so much for sneaking me out of the castle today, father’s boring lessons would have sent me over the edge.”
Katarina smiled cheerfully at the sheltered princess, Nicolette Xyra was the beloved princess of Xerya, daughter of their generous King Xyra, and single heir to the throne of Xerya, “I couldn’t leave you cooped up in the castle any longer. I know your betrothed is due within a months’ time and your father is on edge, since the union of our neighboring kingdom will weigh heavily on this arranged marriage, buuuuut…” Katarina stood and balanced on the slippery rocks, “You don’t need to be stressed when he gets here either—it needs to be natural. You may not have a choice who you marry, but you should at least attempt to make good first impressions and hope for a spark, right?”
Colette nodded, “I needed this.” She sat on the bank, propping her head in her hands, “This is where your mother took you, the last summer she was alive?”
Katarina nodded, “I only vaguely remembered it was here, didn’t get a chance to find it again until a couple years ago, since father kept me locked away inside the smith shop and on the castle grounds with him since mother passed away.”
“Do you miss her?” Colette asked timidly, her blue eyes glittering in the light reflecting off the water.
Katarina smiled sadly, “Not really. I was so young when it happened that I don’t really remember her enough to miss her. I have happy memories of her, but I don’t really remember details, just the feelings I had when I was with her—happiness. So thinking of her doesn’t make me miss her as much as it makes me happy. I sometimes wonder if I’m bad for feeling that way.”
“I wish I could forget my mother sometimes.” Colette pursed her lips, blinking tears out of her face—it was only three years earlier that the king lost his wife to an incurable disease, widowing him and leaving Colette without a mother when she was only thirteen.
“I know it must be hard. You two were very close.” Katarina touched Colette’s arm gently, trying to comfort her friend, “You have to remember the good things and be grateful you got to have them, because I never did.”
Colette forced a smile back on her face, “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”
Katarina leaned back, “At least when it happened you were old enough to make your own decisions.” The irritation grumbled in her tone.
Colette leaned forward to look at Katarina’s annoyed expression, “Commander Graves did the best he could.”
Katarina nodded, “Father couldn’t handle mother’s death, so he buried himself and me in his work.” She signed loudly, “At least I can make the best weapons in the country and probably wield them better than any man in our army.”
Colette laughed, “I couldn’t handle a blade—father gave me a dagger for my protection for my birthday this last winter, told me to keep it somewhere safe and accessible. I don’t even want to take it from its gift box. I hid it under my bed.” She shivered, partially from the cold breeze that blew by and because the thought of using it gave was sickening.
“You know it’s not a bad idea. If someone ever tried to kidnap you, it’d be a good defense if you knew how to handle it properly.” Katarina turned to her, a gleam of excitement in her eyes, “I could show you how to use it, if you’d like.”
Colette shook her head, “I’ll have to decline. My father has ruled this country with his generosity and kindness—I intend to continue this tradition, as he followed his fathers. I want nothing to do with blades or arrows.”
Katarina rolled her eyes at Colette, “You’ll regret it.”
She shrugged, “Perhaps, but at least I won’t ever have to be disappointed in myself for betraying my family’s way of rule.”
Katarina looked up through the trees; the sun was beginning to reach the later afternoon position, as the sun was growing close to the castle towers the poked up over the enormous stone wall that encased the entire city, “We’d better hurry back before you’re late for your lessons.”
Colette made a very un-princess like groan as she stood and stepped back into the tree line, gathering her dry clothing, “Let’s go then.” She sounded less than excited about returning.
“Your father would probably have his first record of violence if he knew I snuck you outside of the city without a single guard.”
“He probably wouldn’t care, since you’re a more capable fighter than any of my personal guards.” Colette smiled cheekily.
“You’ve begged him to hire me on as your guard before, and that did not go over well with him, remember?”
Colette rolled her eyes, “It’s the image problem. He feels that the word of me having a woman as a guard would make me sound more vulnerable, despite the fact that he admitted you would be more than adequate.”
Katarina tugged on her brown blouse, and, tight black khaki pants, throwing on her matching black vest she proceeded through the forest, her hair ribbon between her lips as she began pulling all her damp hair around the left side of her neck, “Onward march” she mumbled between her clenched lips.

It was almost a half hour later that they were outside the small crack in the city wall—it was thin and narrow, but both girls were just slender enough to squeeze through—it was too small for any man to fit through and had been neglected to be fixed for years now. Katarina hoped their damp appearance would draw attention as they walked through the streets, weaving between alleyways until they reached the castle grounds.
Katarina had snuck in and out of the castle to visit Colette several times over the years and was used to the guards patrols, Colette had less experience and was not quite as quick on her feet at Katarina was, but she followed her as closely as possible, easily regaining unseen entrance to the castle.
Once on the fifth floor—the princess’ personal quarters, they stopped their sneaking and walked normally through the wide open, decorated halls.
Colette sighed as they reached her doorway, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kat?”
Katarina shrugged, “I’ll try, but father has a meeting with your father tomorrow, in preparation for the King of Hearthston’s arrival and the precautions they want to take. It’ll be hard to get in and out without him seeing me.”
Colette looked disappointed but smiled nonetheless, “Oh, alright. Well, if I don’t see you tomorrow, I’ll see you during mass in a few days, in the castles cathedral.”
Katarina hated mass, it was long and drawn out—dreary songs and long lectures—but she couldn’t leave Colette alone—she was her only friend, and in turn, she was Katarina’s only friend, “Yes, you know I’ll be there. Father wouldn’t let me miss it for anything.”
Colette’s disappointed expression faded, “See you.” She slipped into her room quietly, leaving Katarina alone in the hall.

Katarina easily avoided being seen as she snuck back down to the stables where she’d left her horse, Cable. He was a strong, white stallion, given to her when she had turned thirteen—a gift from the king, for being his daughter’s friend. She was allowed to keep him at the stables there or at her home in the city—most times she would leave him in the royal stables, but she felt more comfortable having him at home. Knowing her father would be leaving his soldiers for the day to come have a late lunch and work at the smith, riding Cable home was the easier way to avoid unnecessary questions.
Stepping down the stone steps into the hay covered cobblestone Katarina was face to face with her father, Commander Graves—he was an older man, in his late fifties now, his auburn hair was streaked with silver, his beard thinner than it used to be, “Father.” She didn’t have to fake her surprise as she swallowed hard at the stern look he shot her
He was the Commander of the Kings Army. He ran every branch of the military and was the king’s personal advisor and strategist. He had been since he was a young man, “Katarina, what are you doing here?”
“I was just coming to see Cable when I ran into Colette, so we chatted for a while.” She was quick to come to her excuse, praying he would not further interrogate her.
Her father narrowed his eyes at her and then turned his head, “Are you going to bring him home tonight?”
“I was.” She said almost too quickly.
Commander Graves nodded, “Good. That’s fine. I will ride home with you on Marley.” He turned towards the stall next to Cable, a large black stallion, whom his father named Marley, stood, noble and sleek the old horse still looked young and resilient, even though he was in his twenties and had seen many battles over the years.
Katarina walked over and pulled out the gear she needed for Cable and hauled it over to the stall—Cable eagerly nipped at her hair as she knelt down in front of him, unknotting his reins and the straps to his worn saddle, “Hi there, boy.” She patted him on the side as she stood, heaving the saddle on top of his back. He stepped back, protesting the rough leather and clanky buckles.
She signed, “Someday I’ll get you better gear. Sorry.” She whispered to him as she strapped the saddle on. She preferred riding him bare back as much as Cable preferred it, but her father insisted she train him properly. Resentment she knew she couldn’t justified boiled over whenever something reminded her of how he raised her.
It wasn’t out of hate, and it wasn’t to punish her—he raised her the only way he knew how, and that was to train a soldier. It had to be done right, it had to be done in a timely manner and there was no room for questions. Questioning the Commander Graves was not allowed. Life or death could lie in the balance so it was to be practiced daily for everything.
She was trained with the soldiers from the age she could safely wield a sword and worked her father’s smith since she was tall enough to reach the furnace. It was thanks to this that she excelled in sword combat and could make the strongest, smoothest and sharpest blades in the kingdom—but that wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to be known for her swordsmanship or by the quality of her steel—she wanted to be freed from her father’s control—even if it was his way of showing his love for her. She needed her own identity, her own likes and dislikes and she wanted romance. She was seventeen, a year older than Colette.
Lost in her thought Katarina was slightly startled when her father cleared his throat at her, “Are you about ready?” Shaking her head suddenly Katarina blinked at her father, reacting too slowly for him, “Katarina, are you ready?”
“Yes.” She almost shouted as she finished tightening the bridle, pulling herself up on top of Cable.

Katarina focused on the clack of the horses hoofs as they slowly trekked through the cobblestone streets of the capital to their small home towards the east end of the city. The king had generously offered room in the castle for them, but originally her mother had asked to stay in this house—therefore they would forever stay in this house. It confused her a little, because it seemed all he could do was try to avoid thinking about her mother, it seemed he wanted to squander away all the traits she may have inherited from her too, by forcing her into such a masculine work trade.
Finally they came around the last corner, their small wooden home sat in front of them, worn and old, unmaintained because her father spent nearly all his time working at the castle or training his soldiers on the outskirts of town to the west where the fort stood between us and the border of Hearthston.
Katarina slid down off of Cable and reached for her father’s reins, “I’ll take them to the stable.” She didn’t make eye contact with him as he dismounted and nodded, heading into the house without a word. Relieved he didn’t offer to help her, she escaped into the small two stall stable that rested in between their small home and the smith shop. She took her time taking their saddles off and hanging everything up on the small wall, the wood was eaten away by termites and weather, but it was sturdy enough to keep the horses dry and comfortable through the night—she never dared take Cable from the stables during the winter, in fear their stable would freeze him to death. The white stallion huffed and snorted at her as she grabbed for the brush, his favorite thing.
She knew she should be going in to prepare for her father’s late lunch, but she didn’t care right then, and the more time her damp hair had to dry out before he noticed and questioned her about it, the better. The sun had passed another hour’s worth of time before she reluctantly crept into the house—her father was sitting at the table reading a map, a poorly made sandwich lay on the table next to him, as if he’d forgotten all about it, or perhaps its taste didn’t warrant him to finish it.
“Sorry.” She spoke cheerfully, “I just don’t get to spend too much time with Cable as of late.”
He nodded at her, still peering down at the yellow parchment paper the map had been drawn on, “What’s this for?” she asked, less curious and more trying to get her father to stop working for more than a minute.
He looked up at her, “The prince of Hearthston and his father will be arriving sometime within this month—we’re trying to come up with ways to keep us safe and the royalty of Hearthston safe at the same time.”
“Do you think Hearthston would do something to mess up the union?” her curiosity perked up a bit.
He shrugged, “I highly doubt it. They are really the ones pushing for this arranged marriage. The king made the deal when Nicolette was born, but he does, in his own ways regret the decision. She’s a free spirited girl, who is smart and could have easily ruled this country of her own accord.”
“She didn’t need a king to take over for her, you mean.” Katarina smiled, “Women are quite capable, you know.”
“It’s not that we think woman aren’t capable, it’s that it’s our jobs, as men, to make sure you don’t have to worry about things like that.”
“So that’s why you raised me to be a soldier and a smith, because you didn’t want me to have to worry about things like that.” Katarina was tired, the swim and all the sneaking had really drained her energy and apparently her tolerance levels.
“I gave you the skills I knew I could, Katarina. You will be a fine lady, who will make a name for herself in this kingdom because of that. I do not regret teaching you how to wield a sword or craft one yourself.”
Katarina sighed, “That’s fine. I’m not mad about it.”
Her father finally looked up from the map, his tiredly icy blue eyes looked into her more turquoise blue eyes, she had to avert her gaze because the guilt and sadness in his eyes hurt her, “I know you enjoy the craft and you boast too much to my men of your sword skills to hate having them, but I know it’s not fine. I know you’re mad at me.”
Katarina let out a deep breath, her shoulders dropping as she plopped down in the chair across from him, “There’s more to life than crafting swords and being able to fight in a war that I’m not even allowed to fight in.”
“There will be no war to fight if this union goes through. We will have three times the army, twice as much kingdom and a beautiful queen and king to rule over them. We won’t face war for a millennia, once those two are married and the rule is passed on.”
Katarina tilted her head upwards, “Isn’t that bold, or even wishful, thinking? If anything it could start a war.”
“No. We have been in a neutral peace with Hearthston for decades now. The union of the countries under Xerya’s rule is to help Hearthston from being overtaken by their neighboring country, Selstan.”
Katarina scowled at her father, “Therefore, throwing Xerya into another country’s war, right?”
He shook his head, “No one had dared touch my army in decades, the Selstan army would be fools to strike knowing that the kingdoms are now one.”
There was a light tap at the door suddenly, allowing Katarina a sigh of relief as her father slid his chair back, the sound of wood on wood scraping together as he did. His loud, heavily footsteps creaked the fragile wooden flooring, the wooden door cried in pain as he swung it open, “Lieutenant Jax?”
Katarina leaned backwards in her chair, the front legs coming up off the ground slightly as she balanced herself to look at the handsome lieutenant; she smiled involuntarily as they made eye contact. He was tall, dark and handsome. His face was well chiseled and working under her father all this time had put him in excellent shape. She couldn’t help but feel sexually attracted to this man, but she didn’t know him well on a personal level. She did know that they exchanged the same looks of interest at each, however, which gave her butterflies, “Hello, Jax.”
Commander Graves disapproved of Katarina and Jax, despite his high rank in the military, “Why are you at my personal residence, Lieutenant?” he asked gruffly.
Jax took off his helm and held it at his chest confidently, “Sir, I’ve come on behalf of the king. He wishes to speak with you immediately.”
Graves turned and reached for his gear, quickly equipping himself, “I don’t know when I’ll be back, Katarina. Please stay home tonight. The soldiers could use new swords for the arrival of the Hearthston Royalty—make them a bit fancier looking perhaps.” He turned and walked out of the house, Jax remounted his stead as Marley came charging out of their small stable, saddle put on half-assed, surely hurting the poor old stallion. She watched out the window until they were gone.
Throwing her father’s inedible sandwich away, she grabbed a snack and headed towards the shop in a frustrated fit, slamming the door to the sweltering shop behind her as she stepped down the stone steps onto the smooth stone floor, the smith already red hot and waiting for her to work her magic. If anything she used this craft to get out her frustrations, because the other alternative would make her a murder.
The sound of clanking steal, the sear of molten hot metals being doused in water, the crackling fire—it all soothed her. She was tired of everything, she was tired of Xerya. She needed adventure and romance—she didn’t want to stay cooped up and controlled by her father any more. Instead of doing as her father asked, Katarina began work on her own personal project, something she’d been working on in secret for a while now.
Surely she had her own collection of her more ornamental swords, which she hung proudly on the wall of the shop, but she wanted something elegant, yet still practical in a real battle. She used the finest silvers and metals she could and began to finish her very own sword. The time was now; if she didn’t leave soon she would be stuck there forever.
A few hours passed before she was able to hold the white silver blade in front of herself, completed. Black ebony swirls slid up the left side of the blade, the edge gleaming brightly in the firelight, the hilt was black as well, sturdy but thin, like the blade. She swung the sword in a quick controlled manner, the blade almost sang against the air as she sliced through the emptiness. It was beautiful—she almost hoped she wouldn’t have to stain it with blood someday.
But she was a woman, a woman who would be traveling on her own through the wilderness soon—after the next mass, she would tell Colette goodbye before leaving. It wouldn’t be fair to leave without a single word to her, her best friend and confident.

By the midnight hour her father had not returned, so she assumed it would be safe to pack a small bag and hide it in the forest near the lake. She didn’t pack much, some rations of food, a canteen of water, two changes of clothing and a cloak. She heaved the medium sized pack over her shoulder and slipped out of the house, it was dark and none one wondered the streets, not that she’d seen anyway. A curious guard made walk by with a dimly lit lantern once in a while, but they were easy to avoid and hide from.
Quickly and quietly she made her way to the insignificant crack in the wall, throwing her pack through she squeezed out, the brisk forest night chilled her, the moonlight was obscured by many clouds passing by, it would take her twenty or thirty minutes to reach the lake in the dark and she didn’t like the feeling of walking all the way back without her newly crafted sword that clung to her hip, but she didn’t want to leave it behind so stay it would, with her pack, hidden up in the canopy of the tree that was nearest the water.
She finally reached the lake and the moon began to peak out from behind the clouds, casting eerie shadows everywhere, making Katarina a bit jumpy.
Climbing the tree she sat on the branches and began tucking her bag up inside the higher branches,  tugging at it to make sure it would not break loose and fall into the lake. Wedging her sheathed blade between the branches by her bag she was satisfied with her hiding spot and slowly crept down the tree. As she landed her ankle twisted slightly, sending her down into the shadow part of the lake, drenching her pants and the bottom of her blouse.
The icy water took her breath away, a chill vibrated through her whole body as she stood up, a chilly breeze she hadn’t noticed before gust passed her, adding insult to injury, “Of course.” She cursed under her breath as she started to take a step out of the water.
She stopped, not sure if it was the sound she made as she lifted her foot from the water or if it was the sound of brush rustling in the forest ahead of her, she took a slow step back into the water, narrowing her eyes at the shadows, and then she heard voices. She knew she couldn’t climb the tree fast enough to hide or get her sword. She turned and as moved as quietly as she could through the deepening water, trying not to scream as it went further up her torso than it had before. She took a deep breath and slowly let herself sink into the water—just in time as the men’s voices sounded like they were right behind her. She prayed hard they had not seen her or noticed the ripples in the water.
She knew she could hold her breath for at least a minute, but she didn’t know if it would be long enough, she closed her eyes tight and concentrated on holding her breath, she heard the sound of someone moving around in the water by the shore, she opened one eye, but the night was too dark, she wasn’t even one hundred percent sure how deep she had let herself sink either.
She felt herself run out of air, knowing she’d either pass out and drown or she would come up for air and startle the strangers, probably resulting in a more painful death if they were foreigners. If she was lucky they were people of Xerya, but then again, having her father find out about her sneaking out during the midnight hour alone and unarmed, she wasn’t sure the outcome would be that much more passable.
She slowly pushed herself up towards the surface of the lake, her body growing numb from the cold water, poking her head out of the water as little as possible she took in a labored, shaky breath, looking around frantically for whoever had shown up. She blinked hard and focused on the bank—no one. She sighed with relief and began heading towards the shore, still trying to be as quiet as she could, not knowing how far the men had gone. She pulled herself up onto the shallow edge of the lake, stopping a bit startled by the camp the absent men had begun setting up camp under her hiding tree. She cursed inside her mind again, knowing she was not quite out of danger—and the camping looked more like that of travelers and less like local hunters. She rubbed her arms gingerly as she darted into the shadows of the forest—running didn’t help the hypothermic feeling she was getting, the bitter night air was cold enough as it were, let alone with it rushing by her in hurry as she raced towards the crack in the wall. Praying that the men would not stay there for long or find her belongings, Katarina surrendered for the night, collapsing in a shaking heap just inside the wall of the city.
Out of breath and shaking from the cold uncontrollable, she rested there for a long time. It wasn’t until she had caught her breath that she attempted to stand. She looked down at the ground where a small puddle of blood sat, she looked down at her leg—the icy water had numbed her so badly she hadn’t even noticed the deep gash that had been torn into the side of her calf.