I hold my blade tight to the which’s throat, letting teasing drops of blood make their way down it, pooling in her bosom. “Reverse it.” I hiss at her, pressing the knife in closer. She grits her teeth. “Never.” Frustration boils up in my chest. “One last chance.” I manage to grit out through my anger. Her eyes lick mine, and she repeats the word. “Never.” I do not hesitate now. I push the dagger into her neck, severing it from her body. Blood spills over the floor as I leave.

As a child, I wanted to be the hero of ever story. Girls weren’t always considered brave. I wanted to prove them wrong. I would ride out on my pure white stead, flying into the night, sword in hand. I would slay the evil that threatened the land, and then the world would rejoice! My name known across the entire earth! They would shower me in gifts, make me honoured by all. Even the king and prince would kneel when I came by. We’d all be best friends. I always thought hero was the best. The hero always won. I laugh a little. Not any longer

I approach the last which’s house. I’ve killed all the others. She must reverse hers, or I’ve truly lost. I expect to see a tall, strong woman, like every other, willing to give their own life, but instead, she lays and the floor, huddled in a ball. “I’ll do it!” She wails, hands over her head. She’s shaking so violently, I’m unsure if she’s sane, but she stands up, hands moving in harsh patterns, muttering under her breath. I wait for what feels like hours. Then there’s a burst of light, and she’s back in the floor, tucked away. “I did it. I did it. Now be gone.” I don’t leave though. I have to ask something of her. “Which spell did you remove?” Her eyes find me. “His clothing used to be free of stains, but blood will soak them now that my protection is gone.” Then her eyes roll back in her head. Great. A riddle.

“Who is it that you claim to be?” The king says, slouched in his chair, his five year old son standing dutifully beside him. “I, your majesty, have come to offer my skills as a swordsman, to serve at your side.” I stood proud and tall. Even if I had been a woman, I was as good a knight as any. The king was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. “A woman? In my ranks?” He seems borderline hysterical. “Is this a joke?” My face had flushed with anger. “No.” I had said, trying to steady my voice. “Out of my palace.” His voice was abruptly stern. “But your majesty, I’ve taken the training an-” “OUT!” He bellows. I was so frightened by his voice, I dare not argue. I slowly walk out of the room. “You are not fit to serve me WOMAN!” He says as I shut the door. He will regret not accepting me, I told myself. He will regret it when I kill his only son.