“Go ahead,” I said with a small dip of my chin.
“Long ago, before the Royal Legion existed,” she began, “before queens, kings, princesses, and princes ruled the four kingdoms, there lived a lonely old woman in the great northern forests. Her cabin sat alone at the base of the Wu-Hyll Mountains. She was called Maid Freida. Having lived by herself for many years, she longed for children.”
The cadence and eloquence of how the young girl spoke surprised me. Part of me wondered if she had been around the Romantica, and if she had picked up their alluring way of telling stories. I hoped not. The Romantica’s heretical teachings of Love were woven into their stories, songs, and plays. A small child being around the Romantica’s influences, even in innocent settings like festivals, could have long-lasting detrimental effects, especially for a Royal. Any knowledge or belief in Romantica ways needed to be rectified immediately with the Legion’s teachings.
Then again, the girl could just have a natural talent for storytelling.
“One cold morning,” the little girl continued, “while Maid Freida was picking up branches, she heard an infant crying. Then two infants…”
My eyes slipped closed as I listened, transported back in time to when I was no more than five years old and spent my days in a luxurious bedroom with satin pillows and curtains. I sat huddled in the lap of my sister, Clover, her arms draped over my shoulders and her chin resting atop my head. Her scent of vanilla and cinnamon tickled my nose.
My sister’s voice melded with that of the young princess’s, and soon it was Clover telling me the story again…
“She followed the cries to find two bundles of red-cheeked babes sheltered under bushes of holly and thistle. Maid Freida took them home to her cabin and raised the two girls as her own. She named them Myriana Holly and Saevalla Thistle.”
I reached up and tugged one of Clover’s dark tresses. “And that’s why we’re also named after flora.”
Clover’s light fingers danced over the bridge of freckles across my nose. “That’s right, little wisp, we bear her name as our surname, and as direct descendants we’re named after flora. Now, will you let me finish the story?”
I giggled and swatted her hand away. She caught my small fingers and squeezed them, then continued the story I’d already heard a thousand times.
“One day, Myriana and Saevalla came across a young hunter traveling through the woods. He told them his name was Raed and he was on his way to the dwarven mines to trade his fine animal skins for jewels the dwarves mined deep within the Wu-Hyll Mountains. Although Myriana and Saevalla begged Raed not to go, he left them with crowns of flowers for their hair and continued on his way.”
I whimpered in Clover’s lap, and she laughed softly, brushing the hair from my forehead. “Would you like me to stop?” she asked.
“No, keep going,” I pleaded.
“One winter’s night, a hideous beast came to Maid Freida’s cabin. But the beast meant no harm, and he collapsed from exhaustion on their doorstep. Together, the girls and Maid Freida brought the beast in, fed him, and nursed him to health.
“Through the winter months the beast stayed with them and sometimes wove together crowns of holly and thistle for their hair. One day, when Myriana was out gathering herbs, she found the shredded cloak of the hunter, Raed, not far from the entrance to the dwarven caves. Remembering the flower crowns he’d woven, Myriana realized that the dwarves must have placed a curse on Raed, turning him into a beast.
“Desperate to save Raed and seek vengeance against the dwarves, Myriana journeyed to the mines within the Wu-Hyll Mountains. Her sister, Saevalla, ever protective of Myriana, went with her, and—”
“I’d go, Clover,” I interrupted, pressing my back into my sister’s chest. “Like Saevalla, I’d go with you.”
Clover leaned over me and kissed my forehead. “I know, Ivy. I’d do the same for you. That’s what sisters do.”
I shot a glance at the locked door to our bedroom. Our mother was still away. We were still safe. I looked up at Clover. “Then what happened?”
“Raed followed the two of them to the mines and arrived just as a dwarf was about to attack them with a great ax,” Clover continued. “He jumped in to save the sisters and was gravely wounded. It was then that Myriana bestowed upon him the first Kiss that—”
Giggles erupted around me, and I was brought back to the present, back to the classroom full of princesses.
I pulled myself out of the remnants of my memory and smiled at my students. “What? You don’t think kissing a beast’s snout would be pleasant?”
The giggling escalated to laughter, and I motioned for them to calm down. I flicked my hand back to the princess. “Keep going… You’re doing great.”
The girl beamed. “Myriana’s sacred Kiss held power unlike anything humans or mages had ever seen. Her Kiss turned the beast back into a man and gave him the strength of ten men. With the power of her Kiss, he was able to slay the dwarf.”
I gestured for the girl to take a seat. “Well done, princess.” She was an excellent storyteller, like Clover, and I felt guilty for thinking she grew up around Romantica. She didn’t even mention the True Love’s Kiss version that the Romantica cults liked to spread. Then again, even recruits should know to never utter such blasphemy. “Now, who can finish the story?”
Another princess with brown ringlets stood. “Myriana, Saevalla, and Raed took the dwarves’ treasure and built the kingdom of Myria, establishing themselves as the first Royals and founders of the Legion. To continue the magic in their bloodline, Myriana and Raed produced an heir.”
The girl paused, hesitating. It was common for everyone to avoid the next part of our history. Not many liked discussing the origin of the Wicked Queen. But it was important to never forget the evil we were up against.
“Continue,” I said.
Emboldened, the girl threw back her shoulders. “The brothers of the dwarf that King Raed had slain stole the first heir. As the ultimate act of revenge, the dwarves cursed the baby princess so terribly that she became a creature of darkness herself—the Evil Queen.”
The young princesses shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
“To protect the lands against the Evil Queen, Myriana and Raed produced more heirs with their power, and, to add more soldiers to the war, Raed and Saevalla also produced heirs blessed with the same power.”
“And the other lands?”
“Under Myriana’s teachings, other lands used the Kiss to drive back wicked creatures and establish their own kingdoms.” The girl cleared her throat. “For five centuries, the Legion has ruled throughout the Lands, keeping the Forces of Darkness at bay, protecting the people and teaching its subjects to make decisions through logic and reason, not emotions.”
“And how do we teach them?” I prompted.
“We lead by example.”
I indicated that the girl could sit back down. “Correct. We practice what we preach, girls. As Queen Gardenia Myriana once said, perish emotions and vanquish doubts, and we will drive out the Forces. Which brings us back to why we’re all here: monsters. Our five-hundred-year war against the Evil Queen and her Forces of Darkness. Now, you are all princess recruits, but one day you will be full Royals of the Legion and follow your princes into battles against goblins, trolls, witches, dragons, wraiths, griffins…” I paused and looked at their nervous faces. One girl in the front row looked to be only seven years old. She had a large bruise under her eye, perhaps from her first sparring class. I crossed to her desk, took her hand, and gently pulled her up. “…but it is with your power, your Kiss, that we stand a chance against these creatures. What’s your name, princess?”
“Gertrude,” the girl said in a high voice.
“Gertrude, do you know how Kisses work?”