Trusted
Nova stares at room, people filtering in, making her uneasy.
All of them look so…frilly. Big poofy gowns, shiny jewelry, and elaborate headdresses. Nova feels herself being weighed down just by looking at the heavy dressings.
The only weight she’ll ever want to know is the heft of her blade.
None of them carry weapons, assuming the knights will keep them safe. That makes Nova scoff. You shouldn’t assume that someone else has your best interest at heart. Almost no one does. She’s learned that the hard way.
She can only rely on herself and Haze. That’s it. She’s come to terms with that.
It doesn’t bother her anymore. She sees the way these rich know-it-alls hold themselves, nose pointed in the air, dismissing her presence. They don’t have worries, but they are ignorant. She would rather be aware of all the dangers in the world than be unaware and unprepared, living in a false reality, to never know the truth.
Just because you don’t address something, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
“Want to dance?” She glances to her left and Ward is approaching her. He looks different, not in the sparkling knight armor, now wearing an outfit that was a mesh between these prissy people and the knights. A nicer shirt and pants, but still had his weapons. A sword in its sheath at his hip and a dagger strapped inside his boot. “I would rather walk on hot coals.”
He laughs, apparently not put off by her response.
“I know, I was joking.”
Right before she responds, Nova’s attention is diverted to Haze. Her sister is laughing.
This brings a genuine smile on her face. It’s been so long since she has seen Haze let loose. Not afraid. Just happy.
“Aziza warmed up quickly to Haze,” Ward comments. Being so honed in on Haze, she hadn’t even noticed the princess being the one to illicit the positive response.
“Well, Haze is easy to like once you get past the stereotype of witches.”
“Not you though?” Maybe he is smarter than she thought. He caught on to her implication pretty fast.
“I’m an acquired taste. I’m well aware that I’m rough around the edges, but I don’t really care what people think of me.” Her point is made when a couple of girls walk past them, whispering loudly about Nova’s lack of a dress.
He winces at their behavior. “It must be nice to not care.” His lower tone and far away glazed eyes gave him away. He may know a thing or two about negative comments.
She shrugs. “It’s ok. It’s freeing for me at least, but it weighs Haze down a lot. I would take it all from her if I could.” Her words come out a bit awkwardly. She isn’t used to talking about her feelings, usually being closed off, but Ward has proven himself enough for now.
“You really love her.” It isn’t a question but an obvious statement.
“She’s my sister, of course I do.”
“I swore I would do anything for Aziza when she got sick,” Ward compares. She isn’t exactly sure where he is going with it.
“And you did. You did what the whole world wouldn’t have done. Trusted a witch,” she tries to reassure. She’s not sure if that was the right thing to say or do. In social situations, she isn’t the best. Give her a break, she grew up in the woods.
The tension appears to bleed from his shoulders, so she thinks that it worked. “Are all witches like Haze?”
Watching Haze again, she lets herself have this moment to appreciate this instance of peace. “No. I’d be lying if I said all witches were sweet with a huge desire to help. But even knights or royals do bad things. We don’t judge all of you for the acts of a few.”
The Princess hands Haze one of the snacks and Haze gasps in delight at the taste.
“People just get uncomfortable with the unknown. With power. The king shuns all magic users because he’s afraid that they could take over. Misuse their powers. But if everyone else thought about it, if that were true, witches would have done it already.”
A thoughtful look passes over his face as he mulls over her words. They go against everything he’s ever been taught. But yet it makes sense.
Maybe he is seeing the same sight as Nova but through her eyes for the first time. Haze, yes a witch, laughing, head thrown back with unbridled joy. Curls, unrestrained, flying in the air. Wearing a dress, which neither Nova or Ward has ever seen her in, one borrowed from the princess. The forest green perfect for her love of nature. She opted for no jewelry, just aligning with her all organic look.
“I think you’re right.”
A snarky remark is on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it to prolong this serene time. Knowing her life, it won’t be long until it’s broken.
She’s not wrong. Rarely is.
While every royal person is dancing, Nova’s gaze drags along the guards. It is in her distrustful nature to observe others and their potential threat. All are pretty standard. Armor with swords. Fast (but not as fast as her) eyes checking for outside danger.
That’s where most falter.
Nova notices it before anyone else.
A knight with a dagger drawn, headed towards Princess Aziza from behind. Just as he raises it up, Nova takes her own and flings it. People gasp as more were watching her as an accomplice as a witch. She feels people grab her arms, but her aim hits its target.
The clash of her dagger hitting the almost killer’s knife brought the room to silence. They both make a clang as they hit the floor, rendered harmless.
For a second, no one makes a noise. The shock runs through the crowd, processing that a royal guard just tried to kill the princess. And a witch accomplice saved her.
All at once, everyone moves. Knights are detaining the rogue. Guards are surrounding the princess and ushering other very important people out. Other rich folks are rushing away.
“Let her go,” Ward orders the two knights holding her arms.
When they don’t, his eyes harden. “She just saved the princess. Let her go.”
“Yes, Ward.” With that, they unhand her.
Haze, having been pushed away from the princess, almost tackles Nova. Hugging the daylights out of her, Nova feels tears hit her neck.
“It was so scary. One second later and she could have died.”
Nova runs a hand down her back.
“No one is going to die today,” She reassures her sister. Pulling away from the embrace, Nova scans over Haze and is saddened at the loss of the joy. Back was the fear etched over her features.
Wanting to go retrieve her knife, she studies the chaotic commotion. The guards’ gazes more vigilant now. One is holding her weapon and the blade almost used to murder the princess.
Treading carefully, she approaches the woman. “That’s my knife.”
At first, the guard doesn’t answer, just watching the knife in her own hand, and Nova wonders if she has a hearing problem. But she is proven wrong when the guard says, “We must keep it for the safety of the royal family.”
“But it was used to save the princess. You aren’t taking weapons from the guards,” Nova informs, making a wide gesture to all of the guards with swords.
The woman still doesnt look up. “They are not an accomplice of a witch.”
“Yeah, but a guard just tried to kill your precious royal family,” she retorts.
This is ridiculous. Nova saved the freaking princess! With that very knife!
“So either you give me the knife willingly, or I will take it back one way or another,” Nova’s tone becomes dangerously low.
This finally gets the guard to lift her head.
“You would be foolish to pick a fight with me when you are the one that would be scrutinized.”
Nova fights every urge to not hit her. Ward must sense this because he pops up and takes the blade from the guard, who readily gives it to him.
“Faira, it’s ok. Like I’ve said, Nova and Haze are guests,” Ward tries to diffuse the tenseness. ‘Faira’ glares at him at the last word.
“Guests don’t have weapons.”
“Well they do now.”
He hands the weapon, and Nova nearly sighs in relief at the weight of her blade.
“We’ll be off now before you kill each other,” Ward rushes, hoping to get them apart. He goes behind Nova because he knows she’ll move when he does that since she hates when he is where she can’t see him.
Grinning spitefully at Faira, Nova salutes with the knife.
“See ya! Maybe we can get lunch tomorrow.”
The look of anger in Faira’s eyes was so worth it.