Everyone knows that princesses are Good.
This is an indisputable fact; it is simply a princess’s Nature to be Good. If at some point she was not Good, she would no longer be a princess – or perhaps she was still being Good, and you misunderstood her words or actions. Princesses are Good; this is how the world works, and always has. Questioning it is unthinkable.
Everyone knows that witches are Bad.
It is a witch’s Nature to be Bad; she is just as inescapably bound by the clockwork of the world as a princess is. Even if a witch seems to be Good, you may rest assured that behind the Goodness is a great deal of Bad; that such Good is merely a lie, a deception. For witches can never, ever, be anything other than Bad.
And yet despite this distinction, the line between princess and witch is not so clear-cut as these descriptions would have you believe. Nor is it impassable; for just as the stories warn us, a princess may one day become a witch, if the darkness in her heart is loosed.
And perhaps the converse is true as well. But who would ever trust a witch who claims to be a princess?
The princess first manifested a halo when she was only nine years old. No one knew why it happened so young.
It was such a pretty thing – a thin circle somewhere between silver and gold in color, translucent, utterly intangible, just as every other halo known to exist. The princess’s unique variation – no two halos were alike – showed in the two little arrowheads that floated just off of the main ring, always on opposite sides. They would always be in motion ever so slightly, lazily revolving about her head, like a timepiece keeping track of the sun’s slow progress.
Yet despite its bright appearance, the halo was a signifier of the darkness that had taken root somewhere in her heart, just as any other halo was. And though it was not inevitable – and those who loved her and served her hoped and prayed it would never come to pass – the threat of the princess’s downfall remained, hovering over her for all to see and never forget. The threat that one day, if sufficiently provoked – if that dread flower blossomed – the halo would become a Witchgate, and the witch who lived inside her would emerge and take her place.
So the young princess was kept away from the evils of the world, in all the ways her guardians could imagine. Her days were free of pain and suffering; she wanted not for food nor drink nor rest. In the winter months the fires roared high, always warm and inviting; and in the heat of the summer, a refreshment was never too far away. Her every companion was carefully vetted by the king’s elite guards and advisors; not a single one dared speak an errant word in her presence. And no one – not companions, not subjects, not even her parents the king and queen – spoke of the doom upon her head, mere inches above her crown of raven-black hair.
She was a quiet girl, who never scowled or even frowned, and only rarely smiled the tiniest of smiles when something amused her. Perhaps when she was younger she had been more free with herself; but no one could remember. The halo, and what it represented, dominated their every thought of her now.
For years the pall of uneasiness rested upon the royal family and their inner circle, slowly waning in its grip but never fully vanishing, as the princess showed no signs of changing into someone else – or at least, none that anyone could discern.
And then, on her eighteenth birthday, she took her rightful place in society – and the entire kingdom was reminded of the threat she presented.
“Stop looking up so much and keep pushing,” the guard next to him grumbled.
Dirk suppressed the urge to reply and kept pushing the princess’s float as instructed, along with the other three guards – step by steady step, ensuring it kept a slow and steady pace. Atop the gaudy wheeled monstrosity stood the princess in a long white dress with petticoats to give it form, one hand waving to the throng of citizens who had come to gaze upon her for the first time, the other firmly gripping an iron railing for stability on the gusty day.
Her halo was barely visible in the sparkling sunshine – yet it remained there, its motion as constant as it had been since it first appeared. Or so he’d heard. He kept glancing up to check, like it was a nervous tic.
At least the parade was a fairly simple affair. No one wanted to disturb the princess’s delicate sensibilities; no one knew what might act as a trigger, after all. So the royal band marched in front, playing a merry, but still reserved little tune; and then came the princess, turning from side to side and waving with a serene smile upon her lips.
It was a short and simple path as well; from the castle gates out into the city center, around the fountain, then back to the castle. They had already made the turn by now and were headed back along the broad avenue, the King’s Highway; before long they would be done. The princess had not objected to the route, nor the quietness of it; the lack of spectacle hardly seemed fitting for the only daughter of the king, whose abundant wealth was well-known.
Dirk couldn’t help feeling a terrible foreboding; yet nothing explained its presence, no matter how many times he nervously checked the princess. Her halo kept spinning as slowly as ever.
“You’re gonna get in trouble if you keep getting distracted,” the guard grumbled again. “Don’t drag us down with you. Th’ hell’s wrong with you, anyway?”
There wasn’t anything to say. He didn’t have anything to point to – just a terrible feeling that something was wrong, ever since he’d first seen the princess come out of the castle and climb up onto the float. So Dirk just exhaled, shook his head, and kept pushing.
The parade ended without incident, but the feeling never left him. Even when the float came to a stop, and the guardsmen all sighed in quiet relief as they stood up straight to stretch and flex and twist, Dirk couldn’t stop thinking about the princess for some reason. But nothing had happened; absolutely nothing. There was just no reason…
He was still lost in thought when he realized everything was silent around him.
Dirk looked up to see the princess, who had dismounted the float at some point, standing there before the gates. Staring directly at him. He froze, unable to look away, to avert his eyes; instead they wandered up to look at her halo. Is it faster than before, or am I imagining it?
“Guardsman.” Her voice was soft, betraying no emotion. “You are distracted.”
He dropped to one knee, terrified. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”
Again there was silence. Not a word was spoken, no one around moved a muscle or jostled a ring of chainmail; even the air’s soft whispering seemed to be deadened in his ears.
“Come with me,” the princess said, in that same tone. And the world started moving again.
What could he do? She was the princess, and he was but a lowly guard. He rose, and followed.
Dirk sat at the little table in the garden, sweating nervously. The princess sat across from him, sipping elegantly from an ornate teacup, then resting it upon a paired saucer with a quiet little clink.
“You are uncomfortable,” she said, as if it was necessary to reiterate.
The royal guard had eyed him with suspicion and naked distaste – a common city guard? Meeting with the princess herself? But all she needed to do was smile at them, and they acquiesced – though not without precautions. They had stripped him of his helmet and sword and backup dagger, and even his reinforced gloves – so rough he might damage the princess if he was able to reach her before the guard reached him, he supposed. Perhaps he should consider himself lucky they didn’t take his padded armor and trousers too; the day’s chill was not without its teeth, and he had to clasp his hands together for warmth.
“Forgive me, Your Highness; I- I dressed for pushing the float, not for-” A social call. “-an audience. I feel underdressed for it, twice over.”
The princess smiled faintly, her blue-gray eyes peering at him over the rim of her teacup before she set it down. “Yet the source of your discomfort has naught to do with the chill – does it, guardsman?”
Dirk’s eyes widened slightly. “How – how do you-” He hesitated. “No. In truth, it is something else. But not something I am able to name, or that I could provide evidence for.”
She straightened in her chair slightly. “Intuition, then. And what does it tell you?”
He glanced away. “Forgive me, Your Highness, I should not say-“
“Guardsman.”
Her tone held no steel in it; no harshness, no bite. The word was not hissed, or snapped, or anything else that would indicate aggression. And yet by itself it set the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, an ominous feeling overtaking him in an instant, gripping him by the chest and holding him tightly, as if to squeeze the breath from him.
“What do your instincts tell you?”
“That I am in danger,” he half-whispered, shuddering. “That it emanates from you. And- and I have felt it since the first time I saw you this morning.”
The princess gazed at him for a moment. “And is it worse now?” she asked, after a moment. “Has it… fluctuated, I suppose? Or is it a steady thing?”
Dirk blinked. Then he took a breath, and let it out. “I- I think it’s… steady?” he managed, still shivering.
She looked at him, and then smiled again; and this time, it felt like the sun was shining upon him, its warm rays enveloping his body. “Remarkable. Truly; to think that a mere guardsman should have such skill. Tell me – what is your name?”
“Dirk, Your Highness.”
“No family name, no title?”
“Nay, Your Highness. Just… Dirk alone.”
The princess rested a hand under her chin. “Mm. And do you serve the Crown, Dirk Alone?”
That’s not my name, he wanted to say, but instead he responded almost by reflex. “Until death, Your Highness.”
“Good.” The princess stood with a quickness approaching abruptness, if not for her fluid grace. “I have need of you in my employ. Go, and do what you must to prepare today; but tomorrow morning, I expect you at the castle gates, ready to serve me. Until death, Dirk Alone.”
He stood as well, rather less gracefully. “I- I don’t understand, Your Highness – I am but a guardsman.”
“For now. But as I said – I have need of you. That is all.”
Dirk watched open-mouthed as she walked away, exchanged a word with the royal guard, and proceeded into the castle. He hardly resisted as the royal guard then approached him, and he was bodily hoisted up and deposited outside the gates, in a pile of his own equipment.
Her halo had been spinning faster. He was almost sure of it.
Almost, but not quite.
diamonds from ash 
Leave only comments, not bad vibes