The Masked Princess - Chapter I (Patreon)

Princess Lucia Ardiente of Verdelucea could not believe she was thinking this but she was bored – bored of her 18th birthday of all things. All her young little life she was looking forward to the day she would be deemed an adult. People would treat her seriously for once instead of chuckling and patting her on the head. She even had a growth spurt the past two years, reaching a towering six foot one, taller than most grown men.

“I’m going to fight bandits!” an eight-year-old Lucia once said to her tutor, Lady Isabella Thornton. Lady Isabella had taught her how to ride horses, among other things a “fine lady” should learn, such as sewing and cooking and where to place the forks and knives on the dining table. But the moment Lucia learned how to ride a horse, she sought to ride over the plains to the endless horizon.

“Now, now,” Lady Isabella said, patting Lucia’s head like every other adult at the time. “A lady doesn’t go off galloping. It just isn’t so.”

“But why not? All of daddy’s soldiers gallop around the castle!” She often watched them from her bedroom balcony, riding round the courtyard and into the horizon.

“Because they are men, and they are soldiers.”

“And what’s wrong with me being a soldier then?”

“You are princess of Verdelucea; a lady and a model to your people. The soldiers and the guards are here to serve you.”

“BUT I WANT TO RIDE FAST!”

“A lady takes her time.”

Lucia certainly took her time – growing up under the realm’s most refined tutelage, scowling in tight dresses and grumbling whenever she was scolded at for slouching or chewing with her mouth open.

Maybe “becoming of age” would finally give her freedom.

Instead, Lucia found her parents knocking on her door that morning, the day of her 18th birthday, to talk about “something important” that changed everything.

Her father, King Philip, and mother, Queen Letizia, strode in with their regal gowns. Even in lounge wear, they out-dressed everyone with their fine silks.

Typically, Lucia’s parents had no problem telling her what to do and when to do it and how to do it at any point of the day. Whatever was on their minds that morning made them act awkward to the point of avoiding eye contact. Lucia swore her father’s face turned red trying to find the right words. At last, her mother nudged him aside and spoke first.

“Lucia, cariño, you are now of the age where you are fit to wed. The kingdom shall be yours one day, and we must ensure that the line continues. You see…we have prepared a ball for you tonight, and all the surrounding kingdoms will bring their most eligible bachelors. Nobles and men of science and arts.”

Lucia’s hair stood on its ends. The last thing she wanted to be right now was married. She was only EIGHTEEN! She thought they would let her finally gallop across the fields on Wildhart – her beloved gray steed.

Instead, her 18th birthday was spent standing around the ballroom listening to a bunch of men (mostly ten years older than her, mind you) droning on and on about the atoms of the universe or the styles of dead artists or the proper way to prepare a cocktail. These men may have been easy on the eyes, but Lucia’s hair stood on its ends again whenever they approached her and eyed her with lascivious intent. It did not matter how well they dressed or how refined their accent was. She clearly knew they wanted to bed her.

The only suitor there who was her age was a tall lanky boy with a terrible, awful, haircut. Thankfully, he didn’t even try to approach her but only ogled her from the buffet table awkwardly fiddling with his hands. The ogling really put her off.

Lord Falton must have been at least thirty years old and had a hook for a nose and would not let her out of his sight. He talked about how he had won a prestigious award for something or another, when Lucia had had enough of this and said, “Perdóname, but….I just don’t find you very interesting.”

Lord Falton stopped speaking, mouth agape. Those around them had heard the affront and were stunned to hear such a thing. Lord Falton had been a renowned name among Verdelucea and the surrounding kingdoms. Lucia had heard of him before. But meeting the real thing in person simply…failed to meet her expectations. She hated standing there listening and not speaking.

“E-excuse me?” Lord Falton said.

“Precisely,” Lucia said, bowing her head (like Lady Isabella taught her) and turning around to leave.

Lucia did not look back to face the concerned murmurs.

And so, there she was standing at the balcony overlooking the rear courtyard. She removed a pin from her hair to let it all down. The roots of her hair had been hurting from the tight bun Lady Isabella made for her. Everything felt better now that she was able to let loose and be herself.

Several guests wandered the courtyard talking privately among themselves as they walked by. Lucia reminisced wandering around the hedges of the courtyard playing hide-and-seek with her parents. A thought did come to her that maybe she was being too harsh on them, though it passed briefly, because she heard joyous laughter from somewhere in the dark below. She craned her neck over the balcony and spotted five guards around her age leaning against the wall laughing. They passed around a large flagon of ale, presumably, and then---were they belching?

Lucia leaned forward more to listen closely. The seemingly disgusting and gross sounds were indeed belches.

“The boys are surely having fun…” she murmured.

She always noticed the guards having more fun that she was. To think – a person standing around all day outside the same wall having more fun than her? They were always playing cards when the captain was not around, or laughing at a rude joke. She once asked them what they were laughing about, but they shook their heads and said it “wasn’t for a lady’s ears”.

Lucia huffed, watching a sixth guard emerge from the courtyard and bringing over another flagon of ale. They cheered and raised both flagons to each other.

Everything fell silent now, and then Lucia heard their voices more clearly.

“What do you think of the princess, eh?”

“The princess? I don’t think much of her.”

“Why not?”

“She is just like any other princess.”

“You think so? I heard she wants to learn swordplay.”

“Are you sure you heard that? Or is it YOU who wants her to play with your sword?”

A series of guffaws followed.

“She may be a tomboy now, but they all become the same later on,” said the second guard dismissively. “They all get wrapped up in courtly affairs and become spoiled rich.”

“Aye, true, true.”

Lucia gripped the balcony railing and huffed louder.

“Courtly affairs?” she said to herself. “Spoiled rich?”

If there was one thing Lucia hated more than learning how to be a princess, it was people believing she wanted to be one.

She would show them.

Lucia picked up her dress and hurried downstairs as fast as she could, nearly tripping over her heels. She became aggravated with them and took them off with a scowl, running barefoot. When she was about to round the corner where the guards were, she put her hands on her hips and said, “Drinking on the job, boys?”

The guards all jumped at the sound of her voice and stood to attention. She chuckled to herself; maybe that was one thing she did like about being a princess. The guards, fearing she would chastise them, hid the flagons of ale and stood up tall with their lances at their sides. She walked by each of them with her hands behind her back, teasing them a bit, making them sweat in their armor.

Then she snatched one of the flagons of ale and started drinking it.

Lucia retched at first – this was the first drink she ever had, a homebrew of yeasty alcohol. She put on a brave face and drank the rest, much to the amazement of the guards. She expected them to be amazed like that, but after she finished drinking she realize that their looks were more of concern. Before she could ask them, her stomach made a terrible gurgling sound, and before she knew it, she emitted the most raucous, rip-roaring belch of her entire life.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

The foul gas surrounded the guards, making them cough and wafting the air with their hands. The belch had been so ferocious, so powerful, that Lucia even felt the gas coming out of her nose like smoke from a dragon.

“A-are you alright, princess?” said the first guard.

Lucia, still taken back by the violent belch, cough a bit and waved away his concern. “I’m fine. I’m fine. What is this stuff?”

“It’s his,” said the second guard, pointing to the first. The first guard then immediately shot him a look. “It is not!” he cried, defensively. They still thought they were going to be punished eventually, but Lucia laughed and looked into the flagon to see if there was any more to drink.

“Whatever it is…. I like it!”

The guards exchanged stupefied glances, then they collectively cheered her on. Seemingly unafraid of getting into trouble now, they pulled out the second flagon of ale and shared it among themselves.

“Cheers!” the guards cried, giving her the flagon, “to the princess!”

“Hear, hear!” Lucia shouted, before downing the ale. This batch was much sweeter than the last one, so much so that it was dangerously delicious. The guards let her have the entire flagon without worry, for another one was being passed around…and another.

After finishing the flagon, Lucia couldn’t help but let out another massive eruption from the frothy, strong liquid.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRP!

The guards laughed and patted her on the back, accepting her as one of their own. Lucia started to realize that for the first time in years she actually felt like having friends among people that Lady Isabella deemed “lowly”.

This of course was the first time Lucia had ever drunk before. The intoxicating liquid made her senses swirl and she slurred over her words, belching aloud without any further thought to hold them back. The guards started growing a little concerned, and a few had to hold her up.

“Aye, we’ll get in trouble, Trent.”

“We can’t just leave her here, Ron.”

Lucia never got a grasp of their names that night. She argued at the blurry faces that she was fine and that she was going back inside. She giggled trying to balance herself through the hallways back to the ballroom. She was hungry – her stomach growled incessantly all of the sudden.

Murmuring to herself drunkenly, she went to the buffet table and began eating whatever she found with her hands. She tore off a chicken leg and gnawed at it, then dropped the bone on a plate. She lit up when she saw a tray of freshly baked cookies and started picking at those, until—

“LUCIA!”

She swerved round to see her mother with her hands on her hips. A brief shock of sobriety went through Lucia.

“What are you---you are embarrassing yourself,” Letizia hissed, motioning her head to the crowd of guests staring at her.

“Embarrassing myself?” she said, mouth full. She gulped and wiped the crumbs off her dress.

Letizia leaned closer; eyes narrowed. “And Lord Falton told me you insulted him. What’s gotten into you? He’s a perfectly reasonable man.”

“Mother, he’s OOOLLLLDDDD!” Lucia moaned aloud, now drawing the attention of the entire ballroom to the point where the musicians stopped playing. Lucia found this the perfect moment to go on her drunk tirade. “Everyone here is OLD! You’re all OLD and BORING and I want NOTHING to do with you!”

Letizia gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. She panicked, fanning herself to prevent herself from scolding her child in front of everyone. All eyes were on them, murmuring.

“I don’t WANT to get married!” Lucia shouted, motioning dramatically with her arms. “I want to LIVE and have fun!”

Across the ballroom, she spotted Lady Isabella’s intense glare. Lucia only smirked. Let her be mad. She wanted the entire kingdom to know that she was no longer going to be told what to do.

“So if you’re only here to try to marry me, then you may as well leave!”

The guests exchanged brief glances all around. Lucia continued to usher them. “No, seriously! Go! Go on! Unless you are here to eat and dance then stay!”

Nobody moved. They were being stubborn, if not then simply awkward. Lucia stumbled a bit, not from the intoxication this time but from a deep swelling that rolled up from inside of her. She barely had the strength to hold it back, putting a hand to her chest.

“Oh, and another thing….”

She relaxed, and the loudest belch yet erupted from her bowels.

BRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

Letizia gasped in fright, absolutely horrified at what she had done. Lucia’s father covered his face with his hands in shame and disappointment.

Clearly offended and disgusted, a vast majority of nobles and elites shook their heads and turned for the door. The orchestra slowly continued to play, albeit awkwardly before eventually finding a tune again.

That awkward lanky boy approached her. She immediately huffed in exasperation. Of all the suitors to remain after the scene, of course it was him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to speak but Lucia brushed past him saying, “Try a better haircut.”

Before Lucia’s parents could even motion forward to try and speak with her, Lucia turned to leave to find her newfound friends in the castle guard.