Chapter Text
Tyra hated the courtship process. Her parents had tried to force her into finding a suitable partner for years now. But now, at 19, they seemed to have finally run out of patience with her.
One of her maids finishes tying the ribbons on her elaborate dress. As much as she didn’t want to attend the festival, she had to. Her parents had decided to hold a competition of all the finest knights in the kingdom in hopes of finding her someone she could put up with for the rest of her life.
The thought of being with a random man made her sick. She had never experienced love growing up. She would spend hours listening to other princess ramble for hours about their dream princes, about how they were absolutely sure that they had found ‘the one’ this time. Tyra, however, had never experienced any of that. She had pretended to date a few boys to get her parents off her case, but there were never real feelings in any of it. When she imagined her future, it wasn’t with some rich prince or handsome knight. It was ruling alone, leading the kingdom with the gentleness and kindness she never received.
But who was she to change the ways of tradition. She was merely a speck in her family’s long bloodline, another leaf on a family tree of coldhearted and ruthless rulers.
As she takes her seat beside her father and mother on the cushioned chair at the center of the festival, a hand is placed on her shoulder. She looks to see her father staring down at her. His piercing gray eyes and pure white hair almost gleamed in the bright summer sun.
“You will make your choice today, or we will chose for you. Is that clear?” He whispers.
Tyra simply nods.
The tournament begins. Knights clad in silver armor bearing the family’s crest battle on horseback. The contestants had been specifically instructed not to make fatal blows, but in the end two of the men had been dragged off of the field to the infirmary, armor scratched and dented.
One victor sits atop his horse, sword raised high above his head, not even the plume of feathers on his helmet had been touched.
Even Tyra had to admit his work was impressive.
King Rowand, Tyra’s father, is beaming, a rare sight. He stands up, raising one of his large hands towards the knight.
“Reveal yourself, brave soldier, and kneel before your rulers!” He bellows, motioning to the ground.
The knight gracefully dismounts the horse, immediately going to one knee in a respectful bow. He removes his helmet, and a gasp ripples through the crowd. It is not a young man kneeling at the foot of the king, but rather a young lady, barely older than Tyra herself. It wasn’t uncommon to have female knights, but it was widely known that only male knights would compete for the Princess’s heart.
Tyra struggles to hide the wave of emotion that washes over her. She had been barely paying attention to the tournament, but now she wished she had been. Golden curls frame the knight’s round face, with black roots growing out from the top. Her soft brown eyes radiate gentleness, with a long thin scar tracing over her left eye. Her skin is dark and dotted with freckles.
But her parents don’t see her beauty like Tyra does.
“How did you get into this competition?!” The King snaps, silencing the whispers in the crowd.
“I asked if I could participate, my lord.” The young lady replies steadily.
“Was the caption aware of your true identity?”
A few beats of silence, “…No, my lord.”
Tyra looks up at her mother, foolishly expecting some sort of sympathy or understanding. Instead she is met with the same cold glare she has received her whole life.
“Remove yourself from our presence at once.” She snaps.
“But-“
“My daughter will marry a prince, a noble or a knight of notable bloodline. And you do not seem to fill any of those categories. So I command again, leave my presence at once.”
The young knight takes her horse and scrambles away, face red and blinking rapidly to keep herself from breaking down in front of the whole kingdom.