Just a piece of metal

CALLAN

Around an hour or two of riding, Callan called upon his guards to halt, the carriage coming to a gradual stop behind him. He slid off his horse, patting her flank appreciatively as his thoughts wandered back to Faramond and the princess, who had set off a while after them. They should be here by now.

"Do you require anything your Highness?" asked Damien, but Callan shook his head, neglecting his roaring stomach as he squinted into the woods they had recently departed from. He could almost imagine the pair of them emerging from the greenery majestically, with Faramond being an excellent horse-rider and the princess…

Callan tugged at his own sleeves then, shivering momentarily in the bitter cold that had begun to surround them that evening. The princess would be freezing in that dress of hers. Though he knew with an accomplice like Faramond she would hardly be permitted to freeze beside him.

If only she hadn't been so adamant to ride her own damn horse when he had gone through all that effort to prepare a coach.

His train of thought was sharply interrupted by the sudden abduction of his attention as he spotted the emergence of two faint silhouettes, gaining close proximity as they rode towards him.

Callan felt his lips part involuntarily as the princess emerged into the light. Her gown now seemed to burn fiercely about her, a bright fiery aura surrounding her figure. Her dark hair seemed to dance in the wind as she rode, each lift and turn of her loose strands just as impeccable as the other.

It was only when they came to a gradual halt in front of him that Callan recalled his whereabouts, clearing his throat as the pair dismounted.

"Are we to rest here, sire?" Faramond asked him and Callan lifted his head, eyes drifting away from Paige as he acknowledged his good friend's presence.

"Huh?" Callan muttered as he cleared his throat once more. "Well that seems to be the plan, Faramond. The horses must be tired and it would be cruel to push them further. Also the guards need refreshing and," Callan added glancing briefly at Paige, "I'm sure the princess would like to rest too."

Just as Paige lifted up her eyes at the mention of her name, Callan averted his own. This little game of avoiding eye contact that the pair of them were keeping at seemed to have no end.

"I'm fine really," Paige commented and Callan turned, surprised she had spoken. "But I believe a source of food would be efficient for us to keep moving if we are to reach Acraeneia by sundown." Both Callan and Faramond eyed the princess thoughtfully and noticing this, her eyes widened and her gaze faltered.

She turned, somewhat flustered and walked away from them, leading her horse gently as she left the two of them, bewildered by her strange actions.

"She's a very curious girl, Faramond," Callan remarked, narrowing his eyes as he watched her disappear. "I can't quite decide what to make of her."

"You're very right, sire," Faramond agreed. "I see none of Isadore inside that girl. I would never believe she was from damned Askemia if I hadn't seen for myself."

Callan considered his words.

"Or perhaps that is what makes her more of an Askemian. Difficult to read and unpredictable."

PAIGE

She had no idea where they were.

Although she had spent nights and days, stealing moments from her futile etiquette lessons, dreaming about travelling the world, meeting new people, experiencing new cultures and seeing new kingdoms, Paige had never, not once in her entire twenty years of existence, set foot outside the small realm of Askemia. The walls of the castle had formed her life and her mother's words dictated her actions.

However today, with the unseen aid of a complete stranger her wishes had come true. She was no longer a princess and she was no longer an Askemian. But today was also the day that she had lost the most significant elements of her life. She'd lost her best friend, her friends, the maids and the helping hands in the kitchens, her brothers in the army, her kingdom, her people.

And she had lost the stupid belief that had burned at the back of her heart. The belief that she was loved by her family. That despite all the chattering and fussing, her mother still loved the raw little vulnerable girl inside. That even if he never dared display it evidently, her father still loved her with all his heart.

Orion whinnied, somehow detecting her falling mood and feelings, nudging her affectionately in an attempt to lift her spirits. She giggled and stroked him, sighing as she reached the edge of what she assumed was a cliff, away from the rest of her accomplices. Orion was much like her, a little shy and lot misunderstood. He wasn't always the best or the fastest but he had undying spirit, much like Paige.

Wrenching the little tiara from the top of her head, she allowed her brown locks to fall onto her shoulder, collapsing with no grace whatsoever upon a somewhat comfortable-looking rock, from which she could gaze into the beginnings of yet another sunset.

"Some life we're living, huh?" she said as Orion settled down beside her. "You are my only friend now, Orion. Everyone else has left us for a better place, or worse." Her eyes drifted to the sky, now tinged with the early pastel pink of sunset.

"Aiden, you lucky little idiot," she said, trying to smile through her brimming tears. "You better be praying for me from up there."

Orion cuddled up to her as she cried, tears upon tears cascading down her cold cheeks as they stole a little piece of her grief with every drop, diminishing the glowing sorrow within. And when she wiped her eyes, laughing because it felt so good to laugh after crying, her trusted horse nudged her playfully, replacing some of that lost grief with newfound hope.

"Princess!" she swivelled around at the voice, grateful for the distance, for they could not see the remnants of lost tears glistening upon her cheeks. "We are to depart in five minutes!" the guard called and Paige nodded, before she realised that her nod would go unnoticed.

"I shall be there!"

She stood, blinking swiftly, ridding her eyes of any evidence of tears. She would not have them see her like this. After all she was the Princess of Askemia, no matter what happened.

Her eyes fell to the delicate construction of silver glinting adamantly in her fist, and she smiled, a reaction that she had not even anticipated herself.

She may be a princess, but she did not need a piece of metal to tell her that. To define her, to dictate her actions and life. Because that part, she could do better herself.

Paige walked to the edge of the cliff and opened her fist, the weight in her hand suddenly relieved, as the tiara finally parted from her.

And she waited upon that cliff-top until she heard the small faint satisfying clang of metal upon rock.