The air in the stone corridor was a cold, thick presence, heavy with the metallic tang of old blood and the dampness of deep earth. Princess Daniela strode down the center line, her head held high and her heels boots tapping a steady, rhythmic cadence. Flanking her were her three maids.
Ida, with a look of fierce protectiveness, held the long train of black velvet that Daniela wore, keeping the expensive fabric clear of the grimy stone floor. She would not allow her princess's beautiful dress to be soiled by the dirt of the lower chambers.
Josephine felt a prickle of cold sweat coating her back, the Crown Prince's recent, chilling words replaying endlessly in her mind. Her blue eyes kept finding the black diamond choker clasped at her princess's throat. If Princess Daniela were to be without one of the prince's gifts of protection, Josephine knew her own life would be forfeit. She couldn't stop the nervous flexing of her fingers, a desperate need to feel the jewel, to confirm its presence and her own continued safety.
"Are you certain this is where you intended to come, Princess?" Lola's sharp eyes darted to scan the open doorways with practiced alertness. She could not comprehend why a woman of Daniela's status—and physical limitation—would venture into the Battle Hall.
The Battle Hall was, a place of silent, volatile power. On either side, massive stone archways led into chambers etched with protective sigils that silently drank and deadened the sounds of the elemental wars raging within.
As Daniela's party passed the first open doorway, a pocket of frozen violence exploded into view. Inside, Princess Fox—a vision in a voluminous silver ballgown—whirled on the balls of her feet. Her shoulders were bare, her face a mask of fierce concentration. A sheet of ice magic streamed from her outstretched palm, instantly solidifying into a dozen needle-thin daggers. She flung them with a harsh, whipping motion toward a target dummy, the silence-spells muffling the high-speed thwack-thwack-thwack of their impact.
A few steps later, the scene shifted to liquid chaos.
In the next chamber, Princess Ashley, wearing an airy emerald silk gown that was now completely drenched and clinging to her body, was locked in battle. A massive pool of water sloshed violently around her. She was on the defensive, ducking low and scrambling back as her opponent—another princess whose crimson dress stood out against the grey stone—glided a hand through the air. The water obeyed instantly, coiling into a thick, shimmering water snake that lunged toward Ashley. Ashley scrambled back, leaving a wake of disturbed water, her breath ragged.
"Did you perchance come to watch, Princess?" Lola wondered aloud. She immediately received a light but firm slap on the arm from both Ida and Josephine—a clear, synchronized warning for her not to question their mistress.
"Not quite." Daniela continued her measured pace. She did not stop, but her gaze lingered on each room—pockets of extreme physical effort and elemental power, all executed by young women in impractical silks, satins, and jewels.
In one room, a princess in ivory braced her legs, struggling to raise a low earthen barrier against a wind attack that threatened to lift her off her feet.
Just before Daniella could slip into one of the empty training rooms, she was stopped. Miguel stood before her, his large bone mask polished and reflecting the dim corridor light. "Why are you here?" he asked, confusion clouding his tone as he spotted Daniela out of the corner of his eye. He trained here almost daily, as did many other princesses, but he had never seen Daniela in this corridor before.
"As direct as always!" Daniela offered a quick smile and swiftly moved to walk around him. As she reached the door to the empty battle room, she turned back to see him still staring at her. Giving him the slightest of nods, Daniela pushed the heavy stone door open and stepped inside. Unlike the others who kept their doors open to show off their prowess, Daniela pulled her doors closed with a resounding thud, leaving her maids to wait patiently on the other side.
The moment the doors were sealed, the runes etched into the large stone slabs that seemed to touch the ceiling glowed blue once more. The sounds of the hall outside were completely extinguished. It was the purest of silence. Closing her eyes, Daniela took a moment to enjoy it—the quiet peace of being utterly alone, unencumbered by the world around her. She clapped her hands together sharply, the noise meant to excite and arouse her for this new challenge.
Hermes flinched at the sound of the report given to Jasper slapping loudly against the desk. "What is she up to now?" Jasper asked, his eyes skimming over the documents. The trolls' civil war was becoming far more taxing than anyone had expected.
"Princess Daniela is in the Battle Hall," Hermes stated clearly, knowing his master cared for no unnecessary details.
Jasper hummed low in his throat. He knew exactly what Daniela was attempting, and he knew she would fail. Only someone as confident and unyielding as Daniela would believe that simply unlocking her ability meant she would be able to wield her power with ease. Some things were not so simple.
"Fuck!" Daniela screamed, her voice raw from what felt like the hundredth time. Ripping the sleeve of her dress, she used the fabric to press against her nose, which had begun to bleed yet again. She knew something was wrong. She wasn't doing something right.
She could feel the power inside her, the sensation of it moving through her veins. Yet she couldn't make it real. All she was managing to do was harm herself. She had thought if she could just feel the core of her magic, feel it pulse—it would mean she could wield it. Instead, she had only managed to bruise her skin and make her nose bleed too many times to count. She was beginning to feel faint. She couldn't understand it. She had seen the other princesses use their power with ease. She, however, could not even create a flicker of magic in the palm of her hand. It was as if every time she tried to wield her magic, it was lashing out at her.
She needed to try something new. Pushing open the heavy doors of her battle room, she saw her three maids patiently waiting. As the door opened, they immediately snapped to attention, ready to attend to her every need.
"Come inside!" Daniela ordered the three women.
In the center of the circular floor stood Ida, Josephine, and Lola. The deep, grinding sound of the large stone doors being pulled closed was a resounding echo in the now-silent room.
Ida, with her control over wind, wore a look of hesitant concentration. She stood close to Josephine, unsure of what would be expected of them. She had heard stories of other maids being used as target practice for their princesses. They believed Princess Daniela to be a decisive woman, but not outwardly cruel.
As the eldest of the maids, Josephine felt it was her duty to always take the brunt of responsibility. She took up a position in front of the other two. She shuffled her boots slightly, sending a faint scuff of dust across the floor, ready to offer any explanation their princess might demand.
Lola, hands already slightly moist with the latent energy of water, kept glancing nervously at the blue-glowing doors as if hoping for a distraction. She didn't understand why Daniela wanted to be in the battle chamber. She had no power.
"The three of you will spar!" Daniela announced, pulling the damp, bloody rag away from her face. She moved to stand next to the wall. She would observe them closely, to figure out what she had been missing.
The three nodded, a bit too quickly.
Ida made the first move. A small, tentative swirl of air—no bigger than a dinner plate—formed between her palms, a pale, almost translucent white light barely visible within the currents. She pushed it gently toward Lola, a clear invitation to start. It was an obviously slow attack that Lola would be able to evade.
Lola responded with equal caution. Drawing moisture from the air and the walls, a droplet of water, perfectly spherical, floated up from her open hand. She launched it, but it was slow and wobbly, like a child's toy. The water sphere met the wind current, and both elemental efforts simply popped out of existence with a quiet hiss. The two women shared a look of awkwardness, wondering if this minimal effort was enough to satisfy their princess.
Josephine just stood there, looking at a small patch of fine, brown sand she had managed to levitate an inch above the floor. "Should... should I attack?" Her voice was clear yet questioning.
Daniela rolled her eyes subtly from the sideline. This was less a sparring match and more a staring contest. "Obviously!" Tossing the small, bloody piece of cloth onto the ground, Daniela straightened as she walked toward the three women. "It seems I haven't properly motivated you. The winner will be allowed to ask me a favor." Daniela let the words settle before continuing as she walked back to the wall she had been leaning against. "Any favor. May it be gold, land, a marriage proposal to a wealthy Lord. It is yours for the taking. You need only win."
The hesitation dissipated when Ida let out a sound of a warrior's cry. Daniela's offer was far too enticing to hold back now. She took a deep, steadying breath, her eyes hardening. Gone was the timid woman; a flicker of competitive fire had ignited.
With a sudden, sharp twist of her hands, Ida called forth a gale. It wasn't a destructive storm, but a tight, spiraling whirlwind that whipped across the floor, lifting dust and tugging at Lola's tunic. The wind carried a deeper, gray-white color now, faster and much more serious.
Lola's earlier shyness vanished. If Ida was going to be aggressive, Lola would meet her. She lashed out her arm, and a coil of water, thick as a rope, sprung from the ground. It darted through the dust cloud and aimed right for the center of Ida's chest.
"Woah!" Josephine shouted, finally jolted into action.
She slammed her foot down. The fine sand she'd been hovering erupted into a solid, jagged mound of rock, an instant shield that shot up from the floor between the two attacks. She knew Daniela's words had done the trick, but she didn't want the two women to kill each other over the possibility of riches. They had to win, not kill to win.
The water-rope hit the rock wall with a sharp crack, showering the immediate area in a fine mist. The strong winds howled around the obstacle, carving strange, wavy patterns into the freshly formed stone, but failing to move it.
The sound of their magic—the booming impact, the roaring wind, the sudden spray—was surprisingly contained, deadened slightly by the rune-doors but still intense.
Ida grinned, a genuine, focused smile. She launched two more spiraling blasts of air, one high and one low, forcing Josephine to frantically extend the rock wall while Lola had to divert her attention to building a swirling water-shield to defend against the wind. The sparring match had officially begun.
Daniela smiled as she watched the maids. The fight was entertaining and invigorating. Yet, as she watched them, she didn't feel as if she gained any more knowledge. It was just exciting. She didn't understand how they cast their magic, where it came from, or how they channeled it. All of that was missing. She just saw the complete manifestation of their imaginations made real, but not the intricate steps.
Lola's eyes narrowed in fierce concentration. She gathered a massive volume of water, pulling moisture from the mist lingering in the air and likely drawing up what little groundwater might exist beneath the stone floor. It coalesced into a dense, whip-like torrent, crackling with stored kinetic energy. She twisted her body and flung the water toward Ida.
Ida knew she couldn't stop that much water with a simple gust. She changed tactics instantly. Instead of a defensive wall of air, she conjured a powerful, focused downdraft, slamming a tight, invisible column of wind straight onto the stone floor near Lola.
The force of the sudden air pressure destabilized the ground. Josephine, still desperately trying to fend off Ida's initial air attacks, felt the earth beneath her feet shift violently. Her control fractured for a critical second. The rock wall she had raised began to crumble into sand and gravel.
Lola's water torrent, momentarily deprived of a solid footing for her spell, splashed harmlessly against the disintegrating rock barrier. It lost its shape and sprayed up into a massive, soaking wave that drenched the center of the ring.
This was Josephine's chance. With the water now a messy, dispersed spray, she seized the element of surprise. Rather than rebuilding a wall, she focused her fractured control onto the gravel and dust created by her collapsing shield.
With a final, desperate surge of will, Josephine forced the debris to coalesce. Hundreds of tiny, sharp pebbles shot out from the spray, a sudden, high-speed barrage of shrapnel aimed at both Lola and Ida. It was a move of pure desperation and surprising aggression. She'd had enough of the two of them possibly killing each other.
Ida cursed under her breath, instantly spinning up a tight funnel of defensive wind that deflected the hail of tiny stones. Lola, soaked and stunned by the attack, instinctively threw up her hands, forming a thick, defensive sheet of water to slow down the racing pebbles.
The combined defensive maneuvers stopped the shrapnel, but the effort was too much. Ida's funnel of wind wavered and dissolved into a faint breeze. Lola's water shield fractured and collapsed with a loud thud onto the wet floor. Josephine, exhausted by the complicated attack, stumbled back a step, breathing hard.
Daniela watched as all three women lay on the ground, their breath ragged, their skin looking unhealthily pale. Small wounds covered their exposed skin as blood painted the wet floor beneath them. All three elementals had expended every drop of magic in their bodies, leaving them vulnerable and helpless. But for once, Daniela noticed something notable about their faces. They held a fierce look of pride—genuine pride for their strength and ability. Most maids looked at the ground as if they had no value. But these three looked different now.
"Josephine, well done. When you know your favor, ask! You may rest, all of you, for the rest of the day. You've earned it."
"Thank you! My Princess Daniela," Josephine spoke, and the words felt as if they spoke for all of them. It might have sounded like a simple thank you, but they all knew it was much more. Anybody could say thank you to a princess. But with the added word, "My," Josephine had made it clear that Daniela would always be their princess, and eventually their queen. They had never called her "my princess" aloud before; it had held too much meaning. But this spar had shown them that they were no different than any other woman. They were powerful, and their position didn't define their strength.
Josephine felt as if Daniela knew something that she had only just discovered in the later years of her life: what people call you does not define who you are. Daniela had been ridiculed as a cripple, but she was as powerful as a Queen. She didn't need anybody to allow her to be great.