Princess Moments
The Princess Warrior
By Jenny Smith
Annalee pulled Gabriel’s reins to slow him to a comfortable walk. Hoof by hoof, the horse descended the rocky path leading to the waterfall. As she neared the river, Annalee shielded her eyes from the bright sun reflecting off the clear mountain water.
With two clicks of her tongue, the horse stopped and whinnied in response. “That’s a good boy, Gabriel.”
Annalee breathed in the fresh air as the Falls of Shennon sprayed a cool mist over her face. Every day, Annalee escaped the house—with Father’s knowledge, of course. Home was more like a prison than a royal palace. The freedom of riding Gabriel was what she craved more than the air she breathed. The falls were farther than she claimed to ride. But this was her secret place to be free and who she longed to be. Who she used to be.
For four years, she’d been relegated to the first floor of the palace. Exploring the royal gardens took great effort with its gravel paths. She poured time into perfecting her shooting skills in archery and challenged Father to matches. She had not attended official assemblies of Ahra during the past several years. Father didn’t fight her on this, so she believed he agreed with her decision; that she needed to be concealed in the palace, hiding the shame she so visibly carried ever since—
A twig snapped behind her in the distance.
Annalee tugged Gabriel’s left rein to scout the land behind her. This property belonged to the king so no one should be here. She let out a breath when she saw no one, yet she heard hooves pounding away from her toward the border.
“We better head back before someone discovers I’m this far from home.”
Annalee took in the rolling hills and the dark green hues of autumn as she cued Gabriel to a canter, then sped to an exhilarating gallop. Strands of hair freed themselves from her golden braids as Gabriel reached his full speed. She kept a steady grip with both hands on the reins to maintain her balance. As Annalee neared the stables, she slowed to a trot to avoid the tsks of the royal groom, Hayden. He had helped her design and construct the saddle. Together they taught Gabriel to respond to verbal cues.
The groom had appeared from the barn as the horse’s hooves echoed through the valley, and he stood waiting for her. “Miss Annalee, I can see our Gabriel had more than a nice walk today.” Hayden smiled and shook his head in mock disapproval.
“You know he can handle it,” Annalee responded with a smile as she brushed the loose hairs from her face and breathed heavily from the exertion. “As can I,” she added.
“’Tis not you that I worry about, child. It’s your father’s response if he ever catches you out there chasing the wind like a warrior.”
“I’ll be a warrior where I can since others do not think I am able.”
Gabriel walked to the platform Hayden built for her three years ago. “Steady, Gabriel,” she said. The horse stood with his right flank near the podium with four steps descending to the ground. Annalee unbuckled the leather straps that held her thighs against the saddle, then grabbed her left leg, swung it over the horse’s neck, and placed it next to her right leg. She put each foot on the platform, one at a time, then planted her right hand near her feet and pivoted her lower body to the top of the platform where she sat to catch her breath. Then, one step at a time, she lowered her body down each step until she transferred into the intricately carved wheeled chair the master woodworker and carriage maker made for her four years ago.
#
In her bedroom, Annalee fingered through the pages of a book while sitting in front of a large window. She saw the printed letters, but her thoughts flitted as far away as the Sea of Delian when a soft rap sounded at her door.
“Come in,” she said.
She turned her chair as Father stepped into her room. “I heard you had quite the run with Gabriel today,” he said.
She sighed. Can I do nothing without Father’s notice?
“I’m not here to scold you, Annalee. I want to apologize.”
She looked up at her father’s shimmering eyes and quivering lips. So unlike the king of Ahra whose stoic nature was known far and wide.
“Your mother told me she believes I’ve been a bit…overbearing. Too protective of you.”
“Oh,” was all she could say, her stomach crashing like the Falls of Shennon.
“Ever since,” he paused, cleared his throat, and studied the ornate wood floor. “Ever since you fell when we were climbing, I’ve wanted to protect you.”
“But, Father, that wasn’t your fault.”
“No matter. I should have been able to keep you from harm. But now I fear I’ve only stifled you.” He peered into her eyes. “Will you accompany me during the annual procession of the kingdom? We can make our way through the city streets, side by side on horseback, and I will show the people what a beautiful young woman my daughter has become.”
Annalee’s gray eyes opened as large as the palace’s tea saucers and searched her father’s. “You want me to accompany you in the Procession of Ahra?”
“If you will. The parade displays the strength of the kingdom. I believe you have proven your status as a warrior over the past several years.”
“Oh, Papa,” she whispered the name she used for him when she was a little girl. She pushed her chair to Father and wrapped her arms around his neck as he knelt.
#
Five days later she sat atop Gabriel with her body humming with nerves like the gardener’s beehive. Wearing the processional attire of dark leather and a burgundy mantle—the traditional garments of the Ahran military—she felt every bit the king’s daughter. The procession would begin at the palace gates and circle through the village with its streets lined with people. Annalee hadn’t participated in a public event for Ahra in four years. Mother encouraged her to attend dinners with neighboring royal families, but, even then, she feared the whispers that might carry near and far about her ability—or lack thereof. She preferred to be a mystery rather than a disappointment.
In truth, Annalee knew she wasn’t being completely forthright by appearing on horseback. But today, with Gabriel, she dared to face her fear of being reintroduced to public life.
“Ready?” Father asked.
“I’d like to be a bird and fly high into the sky and disappear, to be truthful.”
“My warrior princess, you have overcome bigger battles.”
Annalee rubbed Gabriel’s neck, smiling at Papa’s use of her nickname. He had always called her his warrior princess for how she attacked life with her whole heart. Today, she would try to be his warrior princess again.
She nodded. “Let’s begin.”
Side by side, she and Father left the gates of the palace. Cheers from the crowd roared so loudly that it rumbled in her chest. Banners with the royal colors and the coat of arms waved in the hands of children and adults alike. Gabe was a steady companion, carefully navigating the cobbled streets.
After a successful procession through the city and only a few hundred feet from the castle gate, a young girl tugged loose from her mother’s grip. She ran toward Annalee and directly into Gabriel’s path. Annalee pulled the reins, but the horse was spooked, not used to the noise and large crowds. He reared up on his hind legs, and Annalee grasped his mane, shifting her weight forward to prevent herself from falling backward. One of the sentry guards leading the procession scooped up the little girl and returned her to her mother. Another held Gabriel’s bridle until he settled down. Annalee unclasped her hands from around Gabriel’s neck and pushed herself back into an upright position in the saddle.
She looked at her father, nodding that she was prepared to proceed.
The worst had not happened, yet she’d come close to revealing her secret. And Annalee wasn’t sure she was ready for that yet.
#
Mother knocked on the door and let herself in without waiting for a response. A few tears still clung to Annalee’s eyelashes after she had changed into her gown for dinner. Annalee couldn’t be sure which troubled her more: the world almost finding out she could no longer walk, or desperately wanting the people to know.
As Annalee sat in front of a mirror and arranged her hair, Mother set a box on her vanity, placing her hands on Annalee’s shoulders. “You look beautiful. And you handled Gabriel as well as any of our warriors could have.”
Annalee slumped forward and shook her head. “But it could have been bad. Very bad.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“Mother, I’m tired of hiding. But I don’t know how to escape this dungeon I’ve created.”
“Your father invited the king and queen of Aisquith to join us for dinner. Start tonight?”
“But…”
“If not tonight, then when? Will you ever feel ready?”
Annalee knew she would never be prepared for people to see her in her wheeled chair.
Mother reached for the box she had placed on the vanity. “I think it’s time the princess of Ahra shows herself for who she is. The daughter of the king with no shame or fear.” She opened the box and Annalee beheld the tiara. She touched it gently, each gem sparkling with the hope she had lost four years ago.
Can I allow people to see me for who I truly am?
She looked up at her mother. “I will try.”
Mother took the tiara, placed it on Annalee’s head, and said, “You always do.”
#
With Mother at her side, Annalee pushed her chair into the banquet hall. Dressed in a steel gray gown the color of her eyes, the wildflowers embroidered on the bodice added a feminine touch. During the procession, she felt like a warrior in her first battle. Dining with the royal family of Aisquith, she was as vulnerable as the birds she hunted. At any moment, a flying arrow could take her down.
When they arrived in the hall, Father sat at the head of the table. He stood, as did the others in the room. “Daughter, I believe you remember Lord Guyther and Lady Lydia, and their son, Prince Dunham.”
Each nodded to acknowledge the introduction, but in truth, she had spent much time with the family when she was younger. She felt her cheeks bloom as bright as the roses in the garden. Prince Dunham was no longer the playmate who had tugged her braids and fought mock battles with her. He was a grown man. A quite handsome one at that.
A footman removed a chair from the table and Annalee took her place next to Lady Lydia and across from Prince Dunham.
Dinner was served and their conversation surrounded the day’s events.
“Annalee,” said Lady Lydia. “That was quite a scare you gave us when that little girl spooked your horse.”
Was this a comment to which she was meant to respond? Annalee’s mouth went as dry as dust and the meal no longer looked appetizing.
Prince Dunham coughed into his napkin and interjected, “My mother means you are quite a skilled horsewoman, Annalee. Most riders couldn’t have controlled a horse nearly as well as you.”
“She is quite the rider.” Mother beamed. “Always taking Gabriel to the ends of the land, although I think she believes we don’t know.” Everyone at the table chuckled, leaving Annalee feeling lighter and smiling with the rest.
“When I ride, I take in the beauty of the mountains and feel the wind in my hair,” she said. “I am free on Gabriel.”
“And I believe you especially like the Falls of Shennon?” asked Dunham.
“How do you…?”
“I must admit that earlier this week I was returning from the Sea of Delian and decided to cut through your father’s land on my return to Aisquith.” Dunham glanced at the king “My apologies, Your Majesty. I should have asked for permission.”
Father raised his hand and brushed away the apology.
“It was you I heard near the falls,” Annalee said.
The prince shrugged like he had when they were children and he’d been caught in a lie. “I always enjoyed the Falls of Shennon during my summers here as a child. But I had a good scare when I saw another rider in those parts. I turned and rode as fast as my horse would take me, afraid I might be mistaken for a poacher.”
“We may go tomorrow,” Annalee said before she could catch herself. “That is, if you’re ready to be bested by a girl. Again.” She couldn’t hide a smile and raised her eyebrows as if challenging Dunham to a duel.
#
In the barn the next morning, Annalee sat in front of Gabriel’s stall, feeding him a carrot and rubbing the white stripe that ran from his ears to his soft muzzle. She remembered three years ago when Hayden suggested she drive a carriage. Annalee thought he was making a cruel joke, but the groom’s kind eyes suggested otherwise. He knew horses had been her life. Hayden lifted her into the carriage and talked her through driving the horse. Later, when he offered to make a saddle with extra cushioning and straps to help her balance and the platform to mount a horse, Hayden sparked a fire of desire in her to ride again.
“I’m ready to race you to the Falls of Shennon,” Dunham said.
Annalee startled, shaking away the past, and turned her chair. “As I am,” she responded with a grin. She had not ridden with anyone other than Father or Hayden. With expectation, she pushed her chair through the stable’s dirt and straw and out the door where Hayden was waiting. “I’m ready for Gabriel.”
Hayden placed Annalee’s saddle on the horse’s back while a groom helped Prince Dunham to ready his horse. Annalee pushed herself to the platform, transferred, and inched her way up to the top step. Hayden held the horse’s reins as Gabriel settled himself at the side of the platform.
Leaning forward, Annalee rubbed Gabe’s ears and whispered, “Don’t let me down today. I need your courage.” Gabe’s ears flicked in acknowledgment of his vow.
Dunham led his horse out of the stable and gazed at Annalee with interest. He asked, “May I assist?”
“No, thank you,” Annalee answered. Why did she feel she needed to prove herself? Annalee needed to lift the veil so others could see what she could—and couldn’t—do.
She scooted toward the horse and mounted Gabriel as she had hundreds of times, although, with an audience, her body felt as tight as an archer’s bow. She placed her feet in the stirrups and buckled the straps over her thighs, then Hayden handed her the reins. Inhaling a deep breath to calm her shaking hands, Annalee looked at Dunham, who had mounted his horse, and asked, “Ready?”
Before he could answer, Annalee had steadied herself and cued Gabriel to start trotting, then signaled to him to gallop.
“Princess, that’s an unfair advantage!” Dunham laughed from behind as he tried to catch up.
Annalee slowed her pace, and she and Dunham rode side by side. “Why…” Dunham started and then paused. “Why did you never say anything?”
Annalee looked toward the snowcapped mountains, where the ice-cold water pounded down the falls into the river below. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“I’m not sure. I think if I told anyone, then I knew I had to admit the truth to myself. That my life has changed.”
“But you haven’t changed,” he said.
“I have. I was always fearless. And then, I became afraid of everything. But mostly I feared I was a disappointment to Mother and Father. I believed I was a burden. I’m not sure I believe otherwise yet.”
“You could never—”
“It doesn’t matter whether it was true or not. It’s what I believed.”
Dunham and Annalee rode slowly until they reached the Falls of Shennon.
“I want to lead Ahra as well as Mother and Father. But I don’t know if the people will follow someone…like me.”
“You believe the people won’t follow a strong, beautiful woman? Who rides and shoots better than most men? Annalee, you need to give them the opportunity.”
“You think I’m beautiful?” she whispered.
“I always have. And strong. And stubborn,” he chided. “Just like when we were children. As I said, you haven’t changed.”
Dunham dismounted his horse. “I asked the cook to pack us a picnic lunch. I can place a blanket under the tree. Would you trust me to assist you off of Gabriel?”
A long pause drifted between them and Annalee’s heart pounded with both apprehension and expectation. “I trust you.”
Dunham waited as she unbuckled the straps and moved her left leg next to her right leg on the saddle. He gently placed his right arm under her legs while she leaned forward, wrapped her right arm around his neck, and slid into his steady hold. With Annalee’s arms around Dunham’s neck, they were close enough to feel each other’s heartbeats.
The prince smiled. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Not too bad with you,” Annalee said.
As she held tight to Dunham, Annalee decided she was ready to be seen for who she really was. This battle would be the toughest she had yet to fight. She had no weapons and would need to remove the armor she had placed around her heart. She was worthy for who she was. Not as a princess, a talented rider, or an archer. She was valued because the king, Papa, said she was. And that was a battle worth fighting.