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The story starts like this:
There’s a princess, and a guard.
A castle, and a war.
And two hearts, beating, beating, beating- full of overflowing promise and hope and love -
The story goes like this:
The guard falls for the princess.
The princess falls for the guard.
The princess marries a prince and she doesn’t want to but there’s a war and the war needs to be stopped -
The story ends like this:
Two hands, holding tight to one another.
Bittersweet smiles, bitter goodbyes.
Because this isn’t a fairytale. Because this is real , and happy endings aren’t guaranteed , and maybe-
Maybe, as much as it hurts, the story deserves to be told in full.
Maybe, as much as it hurts, the story of Philippa Georgiou and Princess Katrina deserves to linger on.
It was a war, and wars are cruel. They start with burning tensions and fiery politics and hot, overflowing anger. They end with burning crops and burning bodies and food shortages and no victory at all.
It was a war, and the Kingdom of Terra was losing.
The Kingdom of Ni’Var had superior weaponry, strategy, defences; they were surrounded by mountain ranges, the only easy way in or out through their blockaded ports.
Terra’s only chance was allying with Andoria, a small island nation near Ni’Var. But why would they wish to sacrifice resources and troops, in a war they had nothing to do with?
Prince Gabriel of Andoria was, by all accounts, charismatic, handsome, and very, very in love. No one blamed him; Princess Katrina was worthy of anyone’s affections. He had been writing love letters to her, sent day after day, but she had never replied.
Until one day, after a particularly frightful bombing and destruction of a small town bordering Terra’s capital.
Her Highness Princess Katrina IV proposes the discussion of a marriage alliance and cordially invites His Highness Prince Gabriel to her home.
Gabriel ran his eyes over the words again and again; they may not have been written by her hand, but they were from her and that was all that mattered.
His face flushed with excitement, he ordered castle staff to prepare his carriage.
But this story isn’t about the Prince.
It’s about the Princess and her Guard.
And at this moment, the two of them were standing in the Princess’ grand chambers, pained expressions mirrored.
“You have to do this, your highness,” the Guard said, starting to pace. Your highness . It was yet another reminder of what could never be. “A marriage alliance with Andoria will ensure that they come to our aid. There is no other way.” A hundred nights without sleep had shown her that.
“I know, Philippa.” A sigh. “You think I don’t know that?”
“ Then why are you so upset?”
“Because I’m going to lose you!” Katrina yelled, voice shattering like glass on a tiled floor. Her words died down to a whisper. “Because I’m going to marry him and that means- that means I’ll never get to marry you .”
Philippa shook her head, eyes shining with tears. “We both knew, from the beginning, that there was no way this could ever work out.”
But they had both been willing to try .
Let’s go back to the beginning.
Philippa had grown up in the castle. Her mother was a guard, and her father a chef. She’d met the Princess when she was twelve.
It was a chance encounter in the grand library. Katrina had been dressed in a simple top with lightly embroidered flowers, and a pair of black trousers. Her hair was tied up in a simple ponytail. It was an outfit more suited for a child of a minor Lord than a King, but Philippa had recognized her anyway. She was sitting off in a corner; there were other children in the library, but they all seemed a little intimidated by her. So Philippa walked over.
“Hello,” Philippa said, setting down her books on the armchair next to the Princess. “What are you reading?”
The Princess lifted her eyes up from the page, and closed the book for a second, examining the cover. “The Art of Governance from an Agricultural Perspective in Warm Climates: Policies and Decision-Making. Real interesting reading, I know.” The edges of her eyes crinkled as she smiled.
Philippa laughed as she plucked a book from her pile. “Try this one instead. If you think that’s interesting, this will blow your mind.”
“A History of the Constellations,” the Princess read aloud. “You like the stars too?”
“I love them.”
“Call me Katrina.”
“Call me Philippa.”
Months passed, and Katrina turned to Kat and Philippa turned to Pippa and the days spent in the library turned to nights spent on the castle roof, eyes turned towards the stars.
By then, they had mapped out all of the constellations in their little hemisphere of the world; one map for each season. They came up there to laugh, to puzzle through homework questions, to whisper conversations they wouldn’t share with anyone else.
It would be their last night together for a while. Philippa was going to the Academy in a week to formally train to become a guard.
They lay in the peaceful quiet, enjoying each other’s company.
“Where would you go, if you weren’t a Princess?” Philippa blurted out, suddenly. “What would you want to be?”
Katrina was silent for a moment.
“I don’t think it would matter,” she said finally. “I’ll just follow you.”
The tips of their fingers brushed, slightly, and Philippa reached out to hold Kat’s hand.
“Well, I’ll get to follow you instead,” said Philippa resolutely. “As your own personal guard.”
When Katrina didn’t reply, Philippa turned to look at her, worried. “You’ll choose me to be your guard, right?”
Katrina blinked away the tears in her eyes and tried to hide her smile. “Of course I’ll choose you.”
Philippa came back to the castle five years later.
Regular correspondence had kept her and Katrina in touch, but it was different from seeing each other in person.
Seeing each other in person was so much better , Katrina thought, as she bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for her Pippa to come out of the carriage with the other guards.
A familiar silhouette peeked out of the carriage door, and Katrina ran towards Philippa as fast as she could, fully prepared to a warm embrace, but Philippa stepped away instead.
“Decorum,” Philippa whispered, her eyes sad. “There are people watching.”
They resumed their nightly meetings on the roof of the castle, and it’s the only time that the two of them can truly be themselves, with Katrina pouring herself into her studies to become a future Queen and Philippa standing silently in the hallway outside her room, so rarely ever being able to go inside.
On the night before Katrina’s eighteenth birthday, under the comforting canopy of familiar constellations, Philippa leaned over and kissed Katrina.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Philippa said, breathless. “I know you have your duties, and I have mine, and I guess it’s selfish of me but I just wanted one night where we could be Pippa and Kat, and not Guard and Princess, one night where we could pretend that none of this exists-”
Katrina silenced her with a kiss.
And that was that.
They knew that it would never work out, that one day Katrina would have to marry a Noble or the Prince of some other Kingdom.
They gave each other their hearts knowing full well they’d break.
The story ends like this:
The Guard stands at the side of the altar, gaze trained anywhere but on the Princess in her white dress and veil.
The Princess holds back tears behind the shield of her veil and pretends it’s the Guard she’s walking towards and not a Prince she barely knows.
The Guard is replaced by a guard from Andoria, a gift to the Princess from the Prince.
There are no more moments alone, no nights on castle roofs, no maps of constellations and stolen kisses.
The war ends. The Kingdom celebrates.
The Guard and the Princess mourn.