The Princess and the Revolution

Look. Sometimes they can't all be world-shaking stories. This idea made me laugh and thought I'd share it all with you while I get the next short story ready :) Thanks for sticky by and reading!

https://gingerly-writing.tumblr.com/post/634425028763631616/prompt-2563

Prompt: “I might have been born royalty, but [X] is my real family. And if they’re loyal to the rebellion, then so am I.”

“You might be the dumbest fucking princess I’ve ever met, and that’s really saying something.”

------------

Once upon a time in a far away land there lived a beautiful princess.

“She’s a musical prodigy,” her governess boasted.

“She’s read every book in the library!” the castle librarian said in awe.

“She’s so witty,” the ladies of court sighed. “So quick with her words!”

“She’s kind,” the common people rejoiced. “She’s a saint!”

“She’s a menace,” the knight commander growled. He said it out of earshot of the king, but he still said it in a voice that was definitely above a whisper. “She’s got no common sense. She brought a bard into the castle without having him vetted. Now see what’s happened!”

“What happened?” Knight Sal asked. He was the only one keeping the Commander company this banquet by merit of being the only one to draw the short straw. He took fortifying sip of wine and persevered. “What did the bard do?”

“What didn’t he do?” the Commander cried. He swung one arm out to encompass the entirety of the ball room. “Look at this banquet!”

Knight Sal looked. The nobles seemed a bit merrier than usual, cheeks pinked from good food and wine rather than pale from stress. Music rang through the hall louder than it typically did, vibrating through the crystal chandelier and pounding against the stone walls. The King was on the dance floor, stomping and clapping alongside the Princess in question. “It’s a very nice banquet.”

The Commander spluttered. “Nice? NICE?!” He grabbed Knight Sal by the front of his dress shirt. “Look again! They’re acting like fools. FOOLS! All because Princess Astra made a friend!”

Knight Sal found it hard to look again when the Commander was shaking him. He pried his shirt from the older man’s grip. “Sir, they’re just dancing. I don’t see the harm.”

“You wouldn’t,” the Commander said. His brows were so low that they nearly covered his eyes. “You’re too young! Me on the other hand? I’ve seen more kingdoms than you could ever dream of! Small ocean kingdoms where every ball was held in the water and large kingdoms on the plains where they had no choice but to let the sheep attend!”

Knight Sal cleared his throat. “The sheep, sir?”

The Commander eyes were very wide. “The sheep, Sal. They didn’t have enough pens, you see. The sheep just wandered in. You know what else wandered in, Sal?”

Knight Sal was not sure how he felt being addressed so familiarly by his commander. “Sir?”

“WOLVES!” The Commander bellowed the word, seemingly unaware of how the surrounding nobles flinched away from him. “Wolves dressed as sheep who saw the perfect opportunity to rush in and—”

Knight Sal caught the eye of Knight Gloria from across the ballroom. She looked less than pleased.

Handle it, Knight Gloria mouthed at Sal. She dragged a thumb across her throat. Or you’re dead.

That’s hardly fair, Knight Sal mouthed back, but Gloria was already turning away. He settled for glaring at the wine his hand. How is he supped to keep a superior under control?

A waiter passed by with a tray of fresh glasses and Knight Sal had a great idea.

“—then at my second post, my post with the Kingdom of Trees, the princess fell in love with an unvetted frog of all people—”

“Here, sir,” Knight Sal interrupted, snagging a glass of wine from the tray and offering it in the same motion. “You seem like you need a drink.”

“—when he became king of all things—” the Commander blinked at the proffered glass. “Thank you, son, I was getting rather parched.”

Son. Knight Sal cleared his throat to cover the shudder that evoked. “Of course, sir.” While the Commander downed the wine, Knight Sal scrambled for a topic that wouldn’t overly excite the older man. His eye caught on the Princess, spinning and laughing with the other nobles her age. “It’s good to see the Princess so active. After the Queen left on sabbatical—”

Too late he realized the Princess was not a safe topic at all.

“The princess,” the commander growled. He threw back the remainder of his wine and, if it were not for Knight Sal’s quick reflexes, would have smashed it on the floor. “That one keeps dangerous company.”

Knight Sal gingerly placed both his empty glass and the Commander’s on the table behind him. “Maybe we should go for a walk in the gardens.”

The Commander didn’t seem to hear him. “First the Royal Drink Mixer and then the Royal Pastry Chef and now this bard…” He trailed off, eyes narrowed. “Something’s fishy with the lot of them. Mighty fishy.”

Knight Sal followed his gaze, stomach dropping. Sure enough, the objects of the Commander’s ire have gathered in the center of the dance floor. The Royal Drink Maker in his slim-fitting vest and silver framed glasses, the Royal Pastry chef with their ridiculously tall chef’s hat and quick hands, and the bard, happily jumping around the other two with his flute pressed so firmly to his lips that Knight Sal isn’t sure he’s playing at all.

In the middle of them all, the Princess threw her head back and laughed at their antics. The three around her met each other’s eyes and smiled triumphantly.

“They know each other,” the Commander said. He was nearly trembling with fury. “She claimed that they were unrelated, but just look at them! Dancing and laughing on the first day they met! THEY KNOW EACH OTHER!”

Knight Sal lunged for the back of the Commander’s dress shirt a moment too late. The older man bulldozed his way through the crowd of waltzing nobles, chin low and arms swinging to encourage people to move out of his path even faster.

Across the ballroom, Knight Gloria hissed like an angry cat.

I am dead, Knight Sal realized. He forced himself after the Commander anyway. He might be dead for allowing the Commander to cause a scene, but he would be far worse than killed if allowed that scene to continue.

The Commander reached the four in the middle of the dance floor long before Knight Sal could catch up. It probably had something to do with the Commander’s willingness to run over the nobles and Knight Sal’s reluctance to do the same.

“Your highness,” the Commander said, huffing and puffing. “A word.”

“Commander,” the Princess said, all traces of amusement dropping from her face. Her nose wrinkled as she took in his blotchy cheeks and crazed eyes. “How nice to see you.”

“Knight Sal,” Knight Gloria said, coming to a stop behind the Princess. Her eyes were as cold as the ice in the punch bowl.

“Knight Gloria,” Knight Sal whimpered and fought the urge to hide behind the Commander.

“A word in private,” the Commander insisted, pressing closer to the Princess. He scowled as the Pastry Chef, Bartender and Bard made as if to shield her. “Without your new friends.”

“Whatever you think is necessary to say to me,” the Princess said, chin lifting, “on this, the day of my father’s birthday, you can say in front of them.”

“It’s your dad’s birthday?” the Bard asked. He clapped. “I’ve got the perfect little limerick! I’ll play it nex—”

“Your friends—” the Knight Commander sneered the word “—aren’t who they say they are.”

The Chef, Bartender and Bard all exchanged shifty glances that even Knight Sal caught.

The Princess’ eyes flash. “Commander, I suggest you excuse yourself before you make claims you will regret.”

“They’re in cahoots,” the Commander growled, ignoring her highness’ warning. His lip curled. “They all know each other.”

“Spiritually,” the Chef said, “all humans know each other.”

“Shut up,” the bartender hissed.

“They’ve hidden their identities,” the Commander said, “and lied to get close to you.”

“I never lied,” the Bard assured the Princess.

“Thank you,” the Princess said, smiling at him. “But you definitely have.”

The Bard rubbed the back of his head.

The commander wasn’t listening. “They did it to get closer to the royal family!” The commander stomped one foot like a child and pointed accusingly between the three. “They’re REBELS!”

The music in the hall screeched to a jarring stop. Internally, Knight Sal groaned.

Now it was an Incident.

Knight Gloria stared at Sal as if she wanted to set him on fire.

“Noooo,” the Bartender said very unconvincingly. He looked to the Chef for support. “No, we’re totally not.”

The Chef bit their lip and looked up at the ceiling.

The Princess pinched the bridge of her nose. “Commander, we know.”

The three’s heads whipped around. “You what?”

“We all know,” the Princess said, gesturing the assembled nobles and knights. “Our Kingdom’s population is, like, 20k, maybe. News gets around fast.”

Knight Sal buried his face in his hands. The Commander never read the memos the Princess sent.

“You—but you—they,” the Commander struggled to speak. He took a deep breath. “Then you know what a mistake you’ve made, allowing them access to the royal court! To your father! You’ve as good as killed him yourself!”

“Killed him with fun,” the bard muttered under his breath.

The other two hushed him.

“Exactly,” the Princess said. “My father’s seldom laughed since your appointment, Commander. You’ve really dragged down the vibe in the castle the last few months.”

The vibe, Knight Gloria mouthed and then shrugged.

Knight Sal couldn’t disagree with that either.

“I’m sorry that the safety of your father ruined the vibe,” the Commander mocked. “But if you can’t put your own family’s safety and wellbeing over a sick party—" He drew his sword and waved it around his head “—then I will!”

Knight Sal fumbled for his sword, eyes wide. Oh shit, this escalated way faster than he thought it would or even could. If he lets any of the Princess’ friends get stabbed—

The Princess threw herself in front of the Bard, Chef and Bartender. “Stop! My friends are my family!”

A few scattered nobles oohed and aahed over the dramatic declaration.

“Your only family is your father,” the Commander said. He bent his knees and readied his sword. “Now stand aside so I can kill those rebels!”

“I would prefer it,” the Bard said, “if you didn’t.”

The Princess tossed her hair back. “I might have been born royalty, but my friends are my real family! I won’t every betray them.”

“They’ll betray you,” the Commander promised. Sweat shown on his forehead as his arms began to shake. Holding a sword up was hard at his age. “Their only loyalty is to the rebellion!”

“If they’re loyal to the rebellion, then so am I!” the Princess cried and then closed her eyes with her arms held out as if to say if you must run them through, you will run me through first.

The Knight Commander stared. “You might be the dumbest fucking princess I’ve ever met, and that’s saying something.”

Knight Sal jerked. “Oh!” He looked at Knight Gloria with wide eyes. “Oh, that’s treason!”

“Fucking finally,” Knight Gloria said. She pushed past the Chef and casually knocked the sword out of the Knight Commander’s hand. “Commander, you’re under arrest for high treason. You have the right to a judge, jury and executioner—”

The Commander lashed out at her. “What are you doing? What treason, I didn’t—”

“You slandered the royal family,” the King said from the audience. As if on strings, the nobles parted out of his way. The King clapped as he walked, slowly and then faster and faster. “A beautiful performance, my dear. Truly aware worthy.”

“It took a lot longer than I thought,” the Princess said. She made a face. “It’s a little silly that your laws prevented us from just firing him, father.”

“Silly indeed,” the King said, stroking his beard. He eyed the Princess’ friends. “I am surprised it took three members of the resistance before he acted.”

“Oh my god,” the Bard said to the other two, “they all knew.”

“We might be really bad at spying,” the Chef said.

“You really are,” the Princess said. She smiled. “How about you quit the rebellion and work in the castle for real? You’re much better suited to that.”

“Fine,” the Bard sighed.

“What?” the Bartender squawked. “But—we trained our whole lives to lead the rebellion! We can’t just give it up!”

“I want to give it up,” the Chef said. They clapped the Princess on the shoulder. “When can I start?”

“You already have,” the Princess said.

“Look,” the Bard stold the Bartender, “do you want to kill the King?”

The King smiled winningly at them.

The bartender’s shoulders slumped. “I mean, no, but it’s the principle of the thing.”

“You’ll get over it,” the Princess said. She whistled for the band. “Can we get the music back?”

The ball resumed and no one even noticed when Knight Sal and Knight Gloria managed to drag the commander out of the room entirely.