"You're...sure that he doesn't have a title?"

"Quite sure."

The large lexicon snapped shut, revealing a young face partially hidden behind swaths of drooping bluish grey locks. Ienzo's age was young, but there was a heavy sense of experience and intellect resting below the stormy waters of his eyes. He was always quietly observing this or that and scribbling down notes in his books. His work was accurate, concise and immaculately organized. There was no questioning why he was in charge of the extensive collection of records, or the information contained within.

That didn't stop the princess from being suspicious. Everyone had a title. Even the cat.

"And remind me, the other knight of the pair is..."

Ienzo reopened the heavy book to scan for the information before answering. "He is known as The Gallant Dawnbreaker. High marks across the board in performance. Has a reputation for being balanced, fair and calm under pressure. Slight tactical prowess and remarkably strong scores in wit."

"That's impressive and all that, but what's his name."

"Does it matter?"

The Princess huffed through her slightly clenched teeth. Yes of course it mattered. What was she supposed to do, just spend all day referring to them as 'hey you' and 'other one'?

Besides, it was just so...unusual. One knight, on paper at least, seemed to be remarkably exceptional. The other...remarkably unremarkable.

"I still don't quite understand how-"

"Would it help for me to repeat myself, Your Highness? The first knight you chose at the ceremony, is completely average in all respects. In fact, he failed the knight exam on his first attempt but returned the next year to complete it. Has never scored at the top of his class in any measure, and the only real notable statement given about him is his usefulness in taking odd watch shifts because he can fall asleep just about anywhere, any time. Not a particularly...admirable skill, but a skill nonetheless."

"And...he is a Master rank, right?"

"...barely, but it wasn't my decision to make."

She tried to puzzle this all out. Most knights got a title after showcasing their usefulness in some grand display of civic duty. The titles indicated something that stood out in their actions, words or techniques. She remembered her previous guard, Aeleus, had the title The Silent Hero because of how he flawlessly rescued a whole group of children trapped on one of the floating rocks without ever saying a word. Dilan, her other guard, was known as The Whirlwind Lancer because of his swift, efficient weapon strikes and ability to wield several of those long deadly poles at once; a feat that helped him defend the kingdom from a stampede of beasts rampaging across the valley. How could one complete enough trials to be worthy of master rank and not stand out in any way? It bordered on the impossible.

"How is he a Master if he hasn't-"

Ienzo anticipated her question, and tapped at some of his notes on the page. "According to the records, he was granted a pass on the civic duty requirement not because of completing some lone grand trial, as is typical, but because of his consistent and unwavering assistance to his fellow knights and the people of the Gardens."

She understood what this likely meant. "So...he has never done anything on his own? Just helped everyone else?"

"That would be a reasonable conclusion, yes."

Oh.

She tried to remember back to yesterdays events, wondering if or where she had gone wrong.

The summer air was unusually humid.

She tried fanning herself for a while, but gave up soon after realizing that batting around stale air was more trouble than it was worth. This whole event was all so...pointless. And considering the weather today, cruel.

Her eyes traced the courtyard below her balcony, occupied by multitudes of sweating, suffering knights, forced to showcase their talents in full regal armor.

Because this is what tradition dictated, after all.

Kairielis Aeterna Luxilla, Princess of the Seven Gardens, Duchess of the Floating Isles and Bearer of the Light Refraction was most displeased. No, not because she was uncomfortable in her overly garish restrictive sweat-factory of a dress, but because...well, if she was feeling faint, up in her shaded balcony, all of those poor souls under the direct heat, in heavy armor, must be suffering all the more. Having to sit and watch them struggle for her sake without being able to help made her cross.

And, okay, she was also cross about the dress.

She glanced furtively over to her father. Were it not for his equally gaudy outfit for the occasion, his absolute stoic stillness would have made him blend into the back of his throne. How he could sit there in all those layers of thick velvet without at least squirming had her both envious and in awe. But more than anything she wished he would just put a stop to this whole thing.

Was it really necessary to show off all the knights with Master rank like they were treats on a platter? In this weather, no less?

She opened her mouth to try and voice her concerns, but saw her father's eyes snap in her direction, silencing her before the silence was even broken. She clamped her mouth shut and nodded, diverting her eyes back to her lap.

He was still so intimidating. All her titles, all the power everyone told her she was supposed to hold, and it meant nothing under the threatening gaze of her father.

She turned another sympathetic eye down towards the knights, still parading. How was she supposed to make her selection like this? Every single one of them was just like the other. All highly qualified, highest rank, highly recommended, yadda-de blah-blah. She would have been perfectly happy keeping her old personal guards around for a while longer.

Aeleus wasn't a very talkative guy, and kind of startled her a few times when she hadn't realized he had been standing just behind her because of how absolutely quiet he was. No matter how many conversations she tried to strike up, how much she tried learning about his family, his interests, anything, she was met with nods and one word answers. She figured this was probably why her father liked him so much. The other of the pair, Dilan, was a bit more stern. He liked to chastise her about things, read her the rules when she broke them. Otherwise he neglected to reveal anything personal about himself, either. Despite that, she hadn't really had any definable complaints about them, so it was a bit of a shock when she was told she had to change guards.

Because of tradition again. What else was new? Oh right, nothing.

Something about switching the position of her personal guard frequently enough to prevent her from committing favoritism among the knights.

Because I'm supposed to think of them as tools, not people she thought bitterly, clenching up fistfuls of fabric from one of her layers of skirt.

And that was probably why, like good little toys, they were forced to spin around for her amusement in the heat below without letting her get close to them, even talk to them. Just bark orders and watch them run. It was sickening and she hated it.

She couldn't make out their faces under their visors, and the uniformly fit uniforms made it impossible to tell them apart much anyway. The only real distinction was a different colored band around their arm. The idea, she supposed, was that she could choose the ones that impressed her completely impartially. Yet they all moved in unison, well practiced and trained. What could stand out like that?

Almost as an answer to her thoughts, she noticed one of the knights, wearing a red and black plaid band, began to stumble a little in the dirt. She gasped, worried he might be suddenly collapsing from heat stroke.

But rather than fall, the knight did a quick forward roll, a shuffle step and melted back indiscriminately in line. She smiled, partially relieved that he was alright, but also a bit amused at the acrobatics.

Something was very different about that knight, but she couldn't figure out what. He didn't look any different. Apart from that fall save back there he wasn't doing anything different, either. Maybe he was a bit shorter than some of the others, but…

A long trumpet sound. She stood up, recognizing the signal. All of the knights were now standing in long queue lines, facing the wall below her and her father's balcony. Four lines, six knights in each line. She knew she was meant to choose only one row of six to move on to the next demonstration, dismissing the others. Every time before she had always just played a game of pick-a-petal until she settled on a line at random.

Under her breath, she recited the rhyme, moving her finger across the lanes with every other word, waiting to see where it would land.

"Pick a petal from your hat, if you don't know where you're at, let it go and watch it fall, this one stands above them all."

Her finger hovered to a stop over the second line in the formations. It didn't seem like a bad line. None of them did. She had no reason to regret her choice, on where her finger landed. But something didn't quite sit well with her.

She glanced at the lines and noticed the knight from before, with the red band, was standing in the third one, just next to where her finger had landed. But most definitely not where her finger had landed.

There was really no reason to change.

That knight was no different from the others.

She had always chosen this way, and had given no thought to it. Her whole life was dedicated to traditions and their upkeep and this was her own personal one she actually liked.

But...

Her finger trembled.

She took a deep breath and recited aloud her decision.

"Line...three, please. Thank you everyone else for your kind demonstrations and hard work today."

She bowed formally, then dropped quickly back down into her chair. One of her attendants rushed over.

"Are you alright, Princess? You look quite flushed."

"It's just...the heat..."

She had barely finished speaking before another was offering her a drink. She took it gratefully, but noticed the shaking of her hand was also making the goblet tremble. She nodded to the attendants in dismissal and gripped the cup in her hands to try and calm herself.

Why did she go against her rhyme? There was simply no reason to. There was also no reason to get worked up over it. After all, this whole thing was for her to pick who she liked. For once there weren't any rules about how she was to come up with her decision. She just had to point and declare it and it was done.

It doesn't mean anything. She told herself.

But she didn't really believe it.

She avoided checking in the direction of her stony father's countenance. If he knew she had broken a tradition, even one as silly as a finger rhyme she made up herself, he would be livid. Rather than fear, she felt excitement bubbling up inside of her and she sat up a little higher in her chair.

The knights had now switched to combat demonstrations, but she already knew that they were all impressive. If they weren't, they wouldn't be here. It was set up a bit like a competition, with the now six remaining knights dueling each other. The winning three would be the final three candidates, of which she would choose two.

All she had to do was wait patiently for them to finish their sparring and then this would soon be over. However, as the sun continued to wear down on the castle below, she started questioning her sense of victory from before.

There was no sense in getting excited about the two new guards she would get to meet, who would be soon spending every waking moment with her, because it always ended one of three ways: silence, one word answers, or stiff awkwardness. Take your pick from the lot of them because one certainly wasn't any better than the others. They were all afraid of even a smidgen of interaction with her, like she was some fragile thing made of glass that could be broken with a stiff look. After all, she was just a precious, beautiful porcelain doll that was displayed on a shelf because she was too delicate to be played with, and had long since resigned herself to that fate. No physical touch from anyone. Not even her father. Even in emergencies or when she fell ill, others were forced to wear gloves to interact with her. To slip up in this regard was to be punished severely.

She never wanted that to happen to anyone. And no one else seemed too fond of finding out how severe the punishment would be.

It's no wonder all the guards she had ever met had distanced themselves from her as much as possible. There was absolutely no proof that this knight she had ear-marked from all the others was any different. How stupid of her to get excited.

She tried to suppress her frustrations, but it was getting harder and harder under the heat.

I just need to distract myself, that's all.

She let her mind wander to what she had to look forward to today. Errands. More errands. There was water to bless, flowers to tend, etiquette classes, but after that, after all that she would be free.

Maybe I'll go Wyvern riding.

Something like that certainly sounded good. Especially if it would get her out of the palace for a while. She tried to make it sound exciting in her head to pump herself up, but it really wasn't working too well.

A trumpet sounded, and a voice called out a color. Blue.

One of the matches was already decided: a knight with a dark navy blue cloth had won out over one of green. He had forced his opponent outside of the circle. Nothing too exciting there. When a winner was decided, the victor stepped over to the front to wait, while the other joined the ranks standing at attention at the back. This was all done without fanfare, without even any acknowledgment beyond the lone trumpet call and a statement of color.

That was why, when she saw the red knight giving the victor a congratulatory clap and cheer, it confirmed something she had already been suspicious of. That knight was very different.

The odd one returned his attention to his own match. His opponent, wearing a yellow band, certainly wasn't letting up. The third pair of competitors, who she wasn't too interested in, was a knight with a silver color versus a knight with an orange one.

She...really wanted the red knight to win. But feeling that way honestly made her a little guilty.

I'm sure Mr. Yellow is just as qualified...

But try as she might to return to impartiality there was a truth glaring her in the face. That knight with the red plaid armband was the only one she had ever seen flash even the tiniest bit of personality. It made him seem so much more…

There was another quick trumpet blare and by the color announced it was clear the orange knight from the other pair was the winner. She glanced to the red knight expectantly and, again, he cheerfully stopped fighting for a moment to give a clap to his comrade.

But his opponent must have been expecting him to do this. The yellow knight charged forwards with a stunningly fast dive, and before the red knight could react he was struck heavily against his side. He twisted nimbly, catching himself with his hand against the ground, skidding to a halt just before the circle's edge. The yellow knight seemed particularly upset about this and, taking advantage of having his opponents head so close to the dirt, scuffed a whole lot of it right towards his face.

The knights were wearing full helmets with visors, for this event in particular, but that wouldn't block the dust from getting in. Blinded, the red knight was trying to simultaneously block the furious onslaught of his opponent that continued trying to force him out of the ring and clear the dirt from his eyes, but he was visibly struggling to do so.

Kairielis felt the goblet shaking again, as she looked helplessly down from above.

Why doesn't anyone do anything? That's so unfair...

She wanted to shout out for them to halt, to at least let him clear out the dirt, but before she could say a word, in one swift motion the red knight reached up, yanked the visor off his head, wiped his eyes and dodged out from under the yellow knight. His opponent fell forward from his own momentum, sending him across the circle and out of bounds.

But the princess barely noticed.

Instead, she was staring at the only one on the courtyard below to be without a helmet. His hair was a mess of untamed spikes, matted down slightly with sweat and dust yet still somehow jutting out at nearly every angle.

And she somehow felt like she knew him.

But that was impossible.

The trumpeter blew the horn and started to announce the color, but only got as far as 're' before the yellow one came charging back into the circle and interrupted him with a bellowing cry. The boy with the unruly spiked hair didn't even see the attack coming, and was knocked hard to the ground.

The yellow knight continued to attack, kicking at his former opponent as he tried to stand back up. Before the yellow knight could land a third or fourth blow, the winner of the first match with the navy blue band shoved him aside. He stood between the red and the yellow, shielding the former from any more abuse.

Kairielis breathed a sigh of relief, glad that at least someone was finally offering help. The blue knight turned and knelt down by his comrade on the ground who accepted the hand offered to him gratefully. Both stood back up together.

It was a simple action, but there was something so kind and warm between the two of them. She wasn't so sure the yellow knight noticed, or even cared.

Throwing his sword to the ground, he gestured furiously to the one who was now being shielded by his ally in blue.

"Disqualified! He should be disqualified immediately! The rules say we aren't to remove our-"

"And who are you to talk about rules!?" The blue knight offered a clean riposte. "Your techniques were a far cry from a fair or respectable engagement."

"On a battle field there is no fair! I did what I had to do to win."

"Doesn't look like you won to me." The blue knight retorted sharply, leaving the yellow one spluttering.

"You might question it, but I broke no rules in the process, unlike this punk! In fact, he wouldn't even be here if you weren't there to squeak him by all the examinations. Don't think I didn't notice that you-"

"He earned everything he has. You have no right to question that." The blue knight said this so calmly it was almost chilling.

"I-it's okay, really..."

The knight without a visor finally spoke and Kairielis tensed. His voice was a lot softer, kinder than she was expecting. Most knights were...gruff, is probably the nicest way to put it.

"He's right, I shouldn't have taken this thing off. Why don't we try a rematch then? Just so it's fai-"

"Screw you! I already won by default!"

Now without a sword, the yellow knight rushed forward, arms swinging. The blue knight immediately pushed him back.

"Touch him and you have to deal with me, too."

The knights struggled against each other, the shouting becoming louder and less intelligible the more voices began to join into the fray.

"Stop!"

She screamed this so loudly it startled even her.

The courtyard froze beneath her as she ordered, all the players in this elaborate but pointless demonstration waiting for her to speak. Her hands clutched at the cold stone wall and she felt herself trembling even more than before.

Something fluttered to life inside her chest. She didn't know if it was the heat, or something else that made her whole body feel impossibly magnetized and heavy, almost like the hands of fate itself were pressing down on her from above. Despite the invisible weight, she straightened and cleared her throat.

"I have decided who I want."

Kairielis shifted uneasily in her chair and sighed again. Maybe she really had chosen poorly. That was what the advisers had tried to convince her of. But she had the final say, and refused to back down. Still, even if this red knight was lacking in some areas, surely it wouldn't matter too much? Things had never been more peaceful in the Gardens. The worst issue to deal with lately has been maintaining the water supplies and pipe lines from the waterfalls with the recent drought. It could be that this knight was just a little unlucky and never really had a chance to prove himself.

She was sure of one thing, however.

Her father was definitely not going to like this.

At least the Gallant Knight of Dawn or the Daybreak or whatever it was seemed like he was more than capable of handling anything dangerous on his own. Should there ever be anything dangerous.

Gripping the edges of her chair tightly, she gave a stiff nod over to the attendant by the door.

"I've made my decision and I'm sticking to it. See them both in, please."

"By your leave, Princess." Ienzo gave a stiff, sweeping bow and turned to exit.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind him and she was left alone, apprehensive and fidgeting. The attendant who had been waiting by the door had already left to go fetch the two knights likely waiting in a hall nearby, so she couldn't even rely on him for meager comfort.

Why was she so anxious? She smoothed down her skirt and took a deep breath, trying to relax. At least she was able to slip into more comfortable clothes, now. A dress that wasn't drawn up with extra layers of skirts, frills and itchy puffs was a good dress.

All she had to do, she said to herself, was sit there and look regal and refined and everything would be just fine. But after what felt like ages sitting in silence without the slightest hint of movement outside the doors, she started to fidget again.

Why did she need another set of guards, anyway? It made sense when she was a child but now it just felt pedantic. And depending on the knights she would sometimes feel like she had to live constantly under the scrutiny of a cruel and judgmental eye squinting at her through a scope. If these knights were very stiff on the rules, her life was going to be miserable again for a while.

She also never really understood the logic behind changing guards in the first place. If they were supposed to be so impersonal, why not just send different ones every day? Either it was just to be mean, to be lazier with scheduling duties for everyone, or more likely because her father had some unspoken paranoia about nefarious spies lurking, waiting to pounce. Any knight she picked had to be fully screened first, after all.

So much effort for something so pointless.

"I am almost of age now. I should be fully able to take care of myself. I'll just have to show them up with my elegance and maybe then they'll say "Why yes, Miss Kairielis, you can most certainly do things on your own without burning the castle down around you!"She let her words echo through the empty room and sighed, her hand drooping listlessly to her side.

Yeah right, like that would convince anyone...

Plus, being elegant was hard. She shifted about in her chair, trying to find the most suitable position that exuded grace and poise. Agitated, she kept not knowing where to put her hands. Unable to take the pressure, Kairielis jumped up and started to pace across the thick woven carpet on the floor.

They were quite ugly, these carpets. Not just because the material they were made with was kind of coarse on the skin, but because it was decorated with these horrible misshapen figures meant to represent the seven guardian deities of the Gardens or...something. That was the intention, anyway. Most of them looked instead like half melted demonic creatures from a child's nightmare. In fact, she could definitely recall a few times they were in her nightmares. Despite her dislike of the carpets, she didn't wish them any real ill will. At least, that was the excuse she gave later that day.

In her fevered pacing, she accidentally caught her toe on a loop in the weaving and tumbled forward with all the grace and poise of a newborn deer. Her hands flailed out desperately in front of her, wrapping around the first thing they could find.

The tall antique tarnished silver candle stand did a good job of breaking her fall, but didn't do so well in not breaking itself. She swung her other arm out as she teetered off-balance, hoping to catch the freshly snapped tip of the candelabra before it hit the floor. But in an extra layer of clumsiness she only succeeded in batting it with the back of her hand further away, scattering a few waxy candles across the carpet. Waxy, burning candles.

Oh please, no...

She gasped in subsequent horror as the threads of carpet began to brown and singe before her eyes. Rushing forward, she fumbled to scoop up one of the candles, but the heat of the flames licked her fingers and she yelped, dropping it again.

Water, water...why is there always water everywhere around here except when you need it!?

Not seeing an alternative, she resorted to a good old fashioned stomping with her shoe over the browning sections. While she stamped the rug furiously with her shoes, she used the broken piece of the candle stand still clenched in her hand to attempt to beat out the other burning bits next to her.

At least no one is-

Voices in the hallway.

She froze, her blood turning to ice.

"...really is an enviable position. It used to be considered the most dangerous, but nowadays the castle is nothing but serene peace. Granted, our Princess used to be quite a troublemaker back in her youth but now that she's almost of age there should be anything to worry abou-"

The attendant swung open the door into the receiving room and his words stuttered in his throat.

Before the attendant and her two new personal guards, stood Kairielis Aeterna Luxilla, Princess of the Seven Gardens, Duchess of the Floating Isles and Bearer of the Light Refraction— at the very center of a massive burn mark on one of the oldest rugs in the castle, clutching the battered remains of an antique candlestick in one hand, and a singed shoe in the other.

Looking as starkly unrefined as possible.

So much for elegance…