Flames roared and licked up at the castle, burning down all it could reach. Dozens of soldiers were positioned outside, surrounding the king and queen, who were luckily unscathed. A couple were winding between the crowds, yelling desperate calls of, ‘is everyone alright? Is anyone hurt?’

I, as one of the soldiers, was in this group. I sat on a small stone, at the edge of the panicking soldiers and simply thinking. Fortunately, I am mostly unhurt, save from the small burns on my fingers when I hacked at the lock of the main gates.

A constant thought spun in my head, the prince. He wasn’t out. Dammit, how did no one realise? People considered him a weakling, a runt, a disgrace. I supposed they didn’t forget, just didn’t care. I jumped to my feet, drawing the attention of a couple soldiers near me.

“We have to save the prince!” I yelled, finally capturing everyone’s gaze. It sounded awfully cliché, but I didn’t care, it was true.

No one responded, only stopped and stared at me, shocked at my boldness. I storm up to the king and queen, giving them a brief bow, then speaking, “Your majesties, you can’t possibly leave your own son in there!”

The king spluttered, as if I said something outrageous, “If someone goes back in, they’re dead! There’s no point losing someone else when the prince is probably already dead!”

“How could you think like that?” The rudeness in my tone wasn’t intentional, but it doesn’t matter, they have no dungeon to put me in anymore, “He’s your own son!”

Everyone fell silent. Then, a soldier came up behind me and hit me on the head with what felt like a bat. My eyes rolled back and I collapsed.

* * * * *

Prince Atlas fell on the ground again, his wooden sparring sword falling out of his hand and rolling across the floor. I stand over him, cocking my head slightly. I extend a hand and the prince took it gratefully, standing.

“Clearly, fighting isn’t my strong suit.” Atlas muttered, dusting himself off.

I chuckle, shaking my head, “Quite right. Although…” I leaned in and whisper, “Kings never fight their own battles, anyway.”

He threw his hands up dramatically, “I’m no king!”

“Sure you are. You don’t have to be kingly to be a king. You just so happen to be the heir.” I shrugged, “Whether your parents like it or not.”

Atlas smiled, “You’re too kind for a so-called ‘ruthless knight who only fights to satisfy her bloodlust’.”

“Who says that?” I laughed, but Atlas began to run away. It was always a fun game of chase. I gave him a head start and then ran after him. He darted through the training soldiers, hopping over the occasional barrels.

I sprinted, my longer legs closing the distance easily. Abruptly, Atlas stopped and I crashed into him, causing us both to topple to the ground. I braced myself on the ground with my forearms so I didn’t crush him with my weight.

He laughed, looking up at me.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks and I chuckled nervously, “this is… compromising.” I scrambled off him and sat on the ground. Sitting up as well, he was flushed as well. Honestly, it was kind of cute.

“How about a drink, my dearest knight?” He said, a charming smirk creeping onto his lips.

* * * * *

I stirred, rubbing my head, “what was that for?”

A few soldiers were crowded around me, looking down at me. “You were saying too much.” One admitted bashfully.

Ignoring the spinning of my head, I get up, planting my ground, “I’m finding him.” I say firmly. There wasn’t any uncertainty in it.

“Wait.” Another soldier calls out, “and if you die? You’re to valuable to lose.”

Ah, so I’m just valuable.

I turned.

“Be careful out there.” One of them said solemnly, as if I was about to die.

I sprinted towards the burning castle, the prince echoing in my mind. Save. The. Prince.