“I believe in you.”

Tem’s words echoed in my head as I swept the Knight’s Tournament course. Spriarweed lined the run, their gold willowy stalks bending in the breeze, sending a lemony fragrance into the summer air. I looked to the end of the course, where my worst fear lay: a pool.

I cursed the urgent message that stole Templeton from participating in the course. I had counted on him being here, next to me. I could just hear the pool taunting me. It’s surface barely stirred, but I knew what lay underneath.

Suddenly I was six years old, my feet kicking in icy water, hands clawing at the surface. I sank like I was chained to a boulder. Water shoved into my airways. My lungs begged and groveled for air, but there was none.

Then I remembered Tem reaching in and grabbing my wrist. He pulled. I sailed through the icy lake water, the surface suddenly reachable. Then my face burst into cool air, and I coughed a gallon before my lungs remembered how to breathe. Eight-year-old Tem patted my back, asking frantically if I was all right.

I’d swallowed air until my lungs stopped burning. Then I spoke the first thought that came to mind: “T-tiara. Bottom of lake.”

I’d chucked it into the lake because I’d thought Father forgot my birthday. He’d ordered me to memorize a chapter of Aragonia’s Trade when I wanted to go outside and play Knights and Thieves. (Later I found out he’d wanted me in the study while preparations were being made in the dining hall.) Once the tiara sank under the inky surface of the lake, I’d pictured Father’s imminent wrath and ran cold with fear. So I made another impulse decision – to throw my shoes to the grass and dive into the water. I didn’t know what I was thinking. Swimming had never been my strong suit; my swimming skill equaled that of a spider in a wash basin.

Today, my tiara sits cosy on a cushion in my room, as it had become unpractical in my training as a Knight. Surprisingly, Father did not flinch when I asked to join Knight School. He said liked to know his daughter could protect herself, and others, if need be. The restrictions placed upon me at childhood eased as I grew, even if it Father seemed to grow more distant. Everyone said they knew the Aragonian Princess would grow into her role well.

But how could I rule a Kingdom if I was still scared senseless by water bodies? Any water body I came across looked like a black hole, ready to suck me into its fate-less depths. My legs seized up at any water’s edge as if struck by Medusa’s gaze, and I was forced to crawl backwards with eyes closed, taking deep breaths and trying not to pass out. Twelve years ago, I’d gained a soul mate in Tem, but also a phobia of drowning, though it was a great bargain, if you ask me.

That was why I’d declared my decision to participate in the annual Knight Tournament one day in the snug royal kitchen as Tem and I helped our best friend Fabe prepare dinner (Fabe was the commis chef.) Tem had given a whoop of delight, and Fabe looked at me like I was batshit crazy. Fabe, the more practical one, clearly remembered my paralyzing fits when I came even two feet from a water body.

“You do realize there’s a pool you’ve got to dive into?” Fabe asked, his hands frozen in the dough he was kneading.

“Yes. I’ll train. I’ll do it,” I said, more for my sake than for Fabe’s.

Tem was all smiles, his forest-green eyes wrinkling at the edges. “We’ll go slow. I’m so proud of you, Ash, I’ll bake you dozens of macarons.”

Tem had been participating in the Tournament for years now, and had just been crowned Champion last year. He loved what the Tournament represented: strength, courage, defeating all odds. I always told him he was born to guard the world. He said I would guard the world too, when I became Queen, and that thought always sent bile rushing up my throat. I was dedicated and passionate, yes, but I was also careless, non-confrontational and had a senseless fear of water. I wasn’t exactly Kingdom ruler material. At least not yet; Stars knew when I would be ready.

Today I was taking an important step towards Queenship. I was conquering my childhood phobia of water, or more specifically, drowning. Today I was diving into the depths of a pool once more.

Tem and I practiced for weeks by diving in and out of the castle pool retrieving sandbags. At first he’d sat by me as I crept towards the pool and dipped my foot into the water. I slid into the water at snail’s pace, and he sat there patiently, silently egging me on.

Finally I’d gotten my body submerged except for my head. Then he’d handed me a pair of goggles and asked me to watch him dive. He made it look so easy, streamlining his body and kicking down towards the pool floor like a barracuda going for prey. Watching him gave me some comfort. Over several weeks I was diving, swimming, and floating on my back. I felt free - gone were the chains of my terrific fear.

“See, I told you you could do it,” said Tem, pool water dripping off his grinning face.

I wanted to throw my arms around Tem and kiss him. But of course I didn’t. Instead I just beamed at him and imagined a perfect world where a romantic relationship between the Princess and Head Knight-to-be would not be a political scandal.

Besides - what if he didn’t kiss me back?

“Competitors get ready.”

Next to me, my competition hopped on their heels, attention fixed on the finish line.

Sweat trickled in tributaries down my back. I snuck a glance at today’s competition: Septimus - reigning runner’s-up, farmer’s son, inducted into Knight school after he'd dug through the remnants of a landslide and saved a family of four; Jen - born and raised in a family of Knights, an absolutely no-nonsense type of person; and Bonnie, a castle servant before he was inducted after beating Trevain, Head Knight, at a game of chess. I knew all of them from Knight School, but we’d never become very friendly. My duties as Princess of the Kingdom did not allow time for socializing after school hours.

Jen caught my eye and grinned. “Good luck, Princess Ash. Don’t mind if I’m too intense. I’m fighting for the win.” I grimaced. I’d watched her race through the course in the past years. Intense didn’t even cut it.

“Get ready, Knights,” boomed the Announcer over the loud hailer, “GO!”

I dug my heels into the soft dirt and kicked off. The first obstacle was just a mile sprint through the faux farm. It was a mad dash, but one I’d trained for. Spriarweed tickled my face and arms as I raced past. We reached the end of the farm within milliseconds of each other, our chests gently heaving, refusing to show weakness. Now for the hard part.

I looked up at raised brick platforms that stood a few feet apart from each other. They represented Aragonia’s marketplaces, buzzing hubs where citizens traded goods and services. Tem and I had practiced for this countless times, but my short legs could never carry me quickly enough. Tem hopped over them like a wild hare, while I resembled a fat farm turkey. “Don’t worry about speed here,” Tem had advised, “Worry about that with the accuracy obstacles later.”

I took a deep breath, steeled myself with his words, and hopped onto the first podium. I used my momentum to carry me to the next, and the next. The others sailed over the podiums like they’d sprouted wings. My toes barely grazed the next podium, and I hopped to regain my balance. My heart beat into overdrive. Don't think about falling. Ignoring the fact that my legs were trembling, I inhaled and sprung to the next podium, and the next.

I finished a few seconds after the others, blood pumping in my ears. The others had already sprinted to the third station and nocked their arrows. This was the obstacle where we would shoot an arrow at a portrayal of the Dark Days. This year, it was a canvas of rolling thunderclouds above a burning village.

“Eighteen years ago,” Makerholf had told me during one of my childhood tutoring sessions, “an unprecedented thing happened in the Realm of Sterne, home to thirteen Kingdoms, home of thirteen Shapers. Aragonia’s Shaper left. There was no trace of her in any of the Kingdoms, even though a Realm-wide search had been launched. The only trace of her was a note that she’d left the Realm for good, and was never coming back.

“Weeks later, Aragonia started crumbling like a ruined tower, for there was no one to shape a new wall, or a new harvester, or repair the cracked and baked roads. Aragonians protested in the cities, demanding their houses be fixed, their appliances, machinery and tools replaced. But Aragonia had lost her Shaper, the one person Aragonians had depended on for everything. With little way of acquiring the necessary resources to maintain Aragonia – our cotton industry wasn’t exactly luxurious – our Kingdom began to fall apart. After all, why be self-sufficient when the Shaper would provide everything?”

“We were wrong,” six-year-old me had said.

Makerholf’s lips stretched into a thin smile. “Yes. Us Aragonians found we were wrong, and we got angry. Why had Cassandra abandoned us? And when the Kingdom began to fail – why is the royal family so incompetent? When nothing got better, they started to ask – how are we going to survive?

“There was nothing the royal family could do but hide in their castle wishing Cassandra would come back. Eventually the dear King and Queen lost their minds, and then their hearts. They passed on after doing what they thought best for the Kingdom – elected your parents to the throne.”

“Poor King Boe and Queen Tara,” I whispered.

“Yes indeed.”

I’d been just a wee toddler during the Dark Days, but the painting brought shudders nonetheless.

Two lanes away, Bonnie cursed loudly as his arrow misfired and hit Jen’s target instead. “Hit your own!” Jen yelled. There was a faint thwack, and Septimus’ tall and lean figure sprinted off to the last obstacle. An arrow sat squarely in the middle of his target. My stomach lurched. Not wasting a second, I grabbed the bow and arrow laying on the table, nocked my arrow, aimed for the heart of the painting, and let my arrow fly. It grazed the corner of the painting and struck a tree. I winced. The image of my father, King of Aragonia, watching me from up in the stands, dismay clouding his face, crept into my mind. I shoved that aside. Grabbing another arrow, I nocked that, took in a steady stream of air, held it in, and released. This time the arrow flew towards the left edge and stuck with a satisfying thunk. I was off to the last obstacle before anyone could cry, “Score!”

Finally, the last obstacle was up. My worst nightmare. The lake at the end of the course sparkled as if water imps danced and taunted me, and I felt I’d rather eat sand than jump in into it.

Tem’s voice echoed in my head. “You’re brave. I know you are.”

That lake was large, larger than the indoor pool I’d been practicing in. Suddenly diving into that pool seemed like child’s play - it was nothing more than a few strides wide. This lake would take five minutes to swim from end to end. It didn’t seem possible to dive in there and retrieve three bags.

“You won’t drown. Thousands of people are watching you. Give it your best shot.”

Tem was right. Surely someone would see me struggling. I was letting fear take hold of me. I should be ashamed.

I took a deep breath and stepped towards the edge. Then, without a second thought, I dove into the water.

Shocking cold knocked the air out of me. Icy water rushed into my airways to fill the void. I coughed, spluttered, and sank.

Twelve years ago, I’d kicked and thrashed while my life slipped from my fingers. Twelve years later I am back in a lake fighting for my life. I looked up at the surface. The sun’s rays shone through the tossing waves, dancing, mocking. I was going to die today. The lake was going to claim me twelve years after it had failed.

What did I regret most, with my death? Was it that I’d failed my Kingdom, failed to fulfill my role as Princess, because I’d died before I could?

Or was it that I had never told the boy who pulled me from the lake that my heart was his, and his forever - even in my passing?

Before I could come to a conclusion, a pair of hands reached through the light and gripped my wrist.

I saw two faces. The first face I saw was young and female. She had black ringlets surrounding her face and the bluest eyes. The next was also young, but male. His head was capped with the silkiest golden hair, and his eyes were of gold. I was sure I’d gone to the Stars.

Then I coughed and spluttered and puked a pool of water onto the grass.

The boy patted my back. “There, there, you’ll be all right.” He turned and cried out, “She’s all right!”

Consciousness seeped into me, and I realized they were medics, and that I was surrounded by thousands of people. The surrounding soil turned into mud from the water that dripped from me and the water I’d purged from my lungs. Shame crept into me like an army of angry fire ants. It had been impossible for me to drown, not with a team of medics stationed ten feet away. Why hadn’t I seen that? Why hadn’t I pushed on, like the future Princess of Aragonia was deemed to do, and completed the simple task?

I was stupid, I was hopeless, I wasn’t fit to be Queen.

I scrambled to my feet, shoved off my wet hair that clung to my face like leeches, and started to run.

***

My chamber is my sanctuary, my hiding spot. Tucked in the corner of the right wing, away from the hustle of the castle’s main center, it had long been my cave. It is simply furnished, with a canopy bed, a closet, a dining set, and a vanity I hardly used. There is a cosy little reading nook by the window, and a bookshelf overflowing with books. Then there is the wooden pedestal sitting by the vanity, a velvet cushion sitting on top of it, and a silver tiara sitting on that. Occasionally I feel pride when I looked at the sleek, elegant lines, the delicate sapphire inlaid with floral designs. Most days I just feel sick. Today was one of those days.

“Ash?”

Jitters ran through me, and my body couldn’t decide if it was happy or terrified of facing Tem. Our training had gone miserably to naught. I’d let him down.

“I know you’re in there. I saw the light from your window. Please let me in?”

“You should be pissed,” I said, my voice a raspy warble. “I wasted your time.”

“I can never get mad at you, Ash. You weren’t ready, that’s all.”

A new voice chimed in. “We understand! And we brought food.”

I laughed despite myself. “Is that right? What kind of food, Fabe?”

“Open up and see.”

I sighed. I couldn’t leave them stranded in the corridor. I opened the door, and they greeted me with bright smiles and two baskets laden with macarons, cheese biscuits, caesar salad and honey glazed ham. Fabe also held a bottle of home-brewed apple cider. Tem and I regularly agreed that having a commis chef as a best friend had serious perks.

“I went all out for you,” said Fabe, a cowlick tickling his brows, “and Tem made your favorite rose macarons.”

“You guys kill me.” I almost started crying again, I clamped down on the waterworks. “You know I can’t say no to food.”

We sat at the dining table to enjoy our little feast. Tem and Fabe were determined to avoid the topic of the Tournament, instead gossiping about how more livestock had disappeared - a cow from this family, a couple of chicks from another - and how multiple theft complaints had been filed. Things had been disappearing in Aragonia lately, and no one was sure why. A bonafide theft ring seemed to be the only explanation. It was quite a shock, since there’d been barely any crime for over a decade.

I wiped crumbs off my mouth with a napkin. “How did your delivery go, Tem?”

His face clouded over like in late December.

“What?” I panicked. “What did the memo say?”

“I didn’t find out.” Tem stretched, something he always does when nervous. “Trevain wasn’t in his office, and I sent him a WOT message saying I’d left it.” He shot a pleading look at Fabe.

“We were going to tell you after you felt better,” Fabe said.

Tem groaned. Obviously that wasn’t the kind of help he was hoping for.

I gave Tem a hard look. “Tell me.”

Tem sighed. “Well, there was this letter sitting on Trevain’s desk. I wasn’t snooping! It was wide open. Anyhow…”

“Go on,” I urged.

His hazel eyes met mine, and I saw a storm brewing.

He took a breath. “We may have a new Shaper.”

What followed was shocked silence. I gaped at him like a goldfish.

“I know,” said Fabe. “I told Tem it couldn’t be. We’ve been Shaper-free for the past eighteen years. Why should one suddenly come now? It’ll be horrid, really, especially since we’re the only Kingdom thriving independently, first time in history –”

“We don’t know for sure,” Tem interrupted. “Trevain rode to Callyweather to study the evidence - and meet the girl.”

The girl. So this possible Shaper was female. This piece of trivia somehow seemed to secure the accuracy of this horrible rumor. I felt I could hurl.

A beep-beep punctuated the silence, and both my and Tem’s WOTs lit up. The WOT - a Wireless Official Transmitter - was used as an exclusive communications tool by Royal Council members. Right now it was red for emergency, and a little crown was displayed on its screen.

“Council meeting,” said Tem. “Guess we’ll find out if the rumors are true.”

“Keep me buzzed,” said Fabe. “And good luck.”

I swallowed to keep my cheese biscuits down. “Oh, Fabe. I wish luck would cut it.” I felt sick as a bilge rat. Was it true? Had a Shaper finally come to reclaim us? What did this mean for Aragonia, for our comfortable partial-monarchy? Everything could fall into tatters, and to think all I was worried about this morning was the Tournament.

Both Tem and Fabe responded with a hapless smile, and I was sure they were thinking the same thing.