My name is Aria Jeraldine. I'm a princess of a pretty country that I love; and I would like to be a good royal for them. I want the people to know I'd do anything for them.

Unfortunately; I'm a stupid girl who makes lots of mistakes.

Father loves me; I know he does. But it’s always the fact I resemble my mother, I think, rather than my skills or reliableness (is that a word?) or anything like that.

Nobody asked me to do the summon-thing. They didn't expect anything from me. I had to go and beg Darence and Flementine to draw the circles for me and do the support without letting Dad figure it out.

I understand. I wanted to help with everyone being sad; but I messed up my one chance...

Who is this crazy I got? He's not bad looking; but he's mad! He keeps saying things I don't understand.

I-It’s not like I don't realise lovelove things go on between men and ladies when they like each other.

B-But w-why me? If I was Cadence; with her beautiful face and golden drills, or Melody, with her big chest, then his words would stick better. I know men like those things.

I don't like books and studying. Tutors gave up on me years ago. And even though you can put a dress on me; you can't make me a lady.

I have lots of tone and muscle a girl shouldn't have. I broke my toys all the time when I was small. I'd rather go out and skewer wicked goblins on my spear than go to a ball. I don't have girly playmates except one girl called Rishya I go to school with.

So the fact this man is so free with his weird words, his naughty words, to me... it's never something I've had to deal with. So I don’t know what to do. Part of me wants to blush like the maiden I s’pose I am, but most of me is mad that this crazy is just throwing around words like ‘beautiful’, ‘marriage’ and ‘become one’ in my vicinity. We barely know each other! And how can you find a clod of dirt attractive!?

He’s an idiot. I think I hate him.

Even so, it doesn’t feel like he’s lying. Which doesn’t make any sense, because he’s actually sneaky. I’m not dumb enough to not realise he’s distracting me. When I was about to think about sad things or dwell on my mistakes; already, each time, he’s teased me or changed things to get my mind elsewhere. He’s decided, despite my shoddy summon-thing, to help us out anyway.

So maybe I can rely on him. Just a little. And be his spear. At the very least, he’s cleverer than I am, and maybe he has a really clever plan to see me, and the country through our impending doom.