She's a Hero

The cool evening air wrapped around me like a comforting embrace, yet my body was warm with sweat. My muscles ached, but I ignored the burn - I was used to it. Pain was just another voice in the background, one I had long since learned to silence.

I drew another arrow from my quiver, rolling the wooden shaft between my fingers. Its familiar weight grounded me, sharpening my focus. The red mark on the target stood out like a drop of blood against pale wood - a reminder of what I had to hit. I nocked the arrow, pulled back the string, and exhaled slowly.

Thwack!

The arrow sank deep into the center of the red spot, its feathers still vibrating from the force. I smiled faintly, lowering my bow. That was the tenth perfect shot in a row - but I wasn't surprised. I never missed.

I was born to fight. Born to strike with precision. Born to win.

Grabbing another arrow, I aimed again. Determination fueled me - a fire that never seemed to burn out. I couldn't allow it to. There was no room for weakness, no space for failure. I had one goal - and I'd reach it no matter what.

Thwack!

Another perfect shot.

I didn't know how long I stood there, repeating the same motion over and over, each arrow finding its place in the red circle. By the time my quiver was empty, the sky was ablaze with streaks of orange and gold. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the clouds in shades of fire.

I should've gone inside. The Castle wasn't far - my chambers would be waiting, warm and inviting. But instead, I let my bow rest against the target stand and dropped to the grass, stretching out my legs. My body screamed for rest, but my mind wouldn't stop spinning.

I tilted my head back, letting the wind brush over my face. It carried the scent of earth and leaves, but something else caught my eye - a plane gliding through the sky, small and distant, barely more than a silver streak against the fading sunlight.

I watched it move, slow and steady, disappearing behind the clouds.

I exhaled, my chest tightening with longing. What would it be like to sit inside one of those planes? To leave this place - even just for a while - and see something new?

I imagined myself in one of those seats, watching tiny landscapes pass beneath me, feeling weightless and free. No expectations. No duties. No endless training or Castle walls keeping me in check.

Just freedom.

I scoffed under my breath. As if that could happen. People like me didn't get vacations. Warriors didn't get to take breaks - especially not me. I'd spent my entire life preparing for something bigger than myself. There was no room for selfish dreams.

Still... I couldn't help but wish.

For five minutes, I let myself imagine what that life would be like - a life where I wasn't just a fighter, where I wasn't bound to duty and endless battles. Just me, somewhere far away, where no one knew my name.

But dreams like that didn't last long. They couldn't.

With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts away. My gaze drifted back to my training ground - the worn targets, the scattered arrows, the sweat on my palms. This was where I belonged. No matter how exhausting it felt sometimes, this was my purpose.

"Get it together," I muttered under my breath.

Rising to my feet, I began gathering my arrows from the target, tugging them free one by one. Each sharp tug reminded me why I couldn't walk away - why I couldn't afford to give in to thoughts of escape.

Once everything was packed, I slung my quiver over my shoulder and grabbed my bow. The sky had turned darker now, deep shades of purple swallowing the last streaks of gold. The Castle lights flickered in the distance - a quiet reminder that I couldn't stay out here all night.

I started walking back, each step feeling heavier than the last. That flicker of longing still clung to me, like smoke that wouldn't quite clear.

But it didn't matter. No matter how tired I felt or how badly I wanted to run - I couldn't.

I had a goal. A purpose.

And nothing was going to stop me from reaching it.

The Castle gates loomed ahead, their iron curves twisting like vines - dark and unwelcoming. The guards stood at attention as I approached, their eyes flicking away the moment they recognized me. No one dared meet my gaze. They knew better.

I strode through the entrance, boots striking hard against the stone floor. The faint murmurs of maids and servants filled the hallway, but those whispers faded the second they saw me. Faces turned away, bodies shifted aside. No one wanted to be in my path - and I liked it that way.

I wasn't here to play nice. I didn't have time for their pitiful stares or fake smiles. They worked. That was their purpose.

A maid scurried toward me from the far side of the hall, her hands fumbling with a folded towel. She was young - too young to know better, I supposed. Her eyes flickered nervously as she approached, and her voice trembled.

"P-Princess Ivana," she stammered, "I-I can help you-"

"I don't need your help," I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut. I barely spared her a glance as I kept walking.

"But... but your clothes," she said weakly, eyes fixed on the sweat-stained fabric clinging to me. "I could run you a bath, or-"

I stopped so suddenly that she nearly tripped over herself. Slowly, I turned to face her.

"Did I ask for a bath?" I asked coldly.

The maid froze, her fingers tightening around the towel. "N-No... but I thought-"

"There's your mistake," I cut in. "I don't need you to think. I need you to know your place."

Her face paled, but I wasn't done. I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear me.

"I don't care about your good intentions," I said through gritted teeth. "Your job is to do what you're told - nothing more. If I want a bath, I'll ask for one. If I want you to clean my boots, I'll tell you. Until then..." I snatched the towel from her hands and shoved it hard against her chest. "Stay out of my way."

Her lips parted like she wanted to apologize, but no words came out. She simply nodded, her head bowed like a scolded child.

"Good," I muttered, turning my back on her.

I felt her eyes on me as I walked away, but I didn't care. Her feelings weren't my concern. None of their feelings were. They were born to work - so they worked. It was that simple.

I climbed the stairs to my chamber, ignoring the servants who scurried past me like frightened mice. The entire Castle knew better than to cross me - and I liked it that way. Respect through fear. That's what kept things in order.

By the time I reached my room, the tension in my muscles had started to ease. Tossing my bag on the floor, I leaned against the door, breathing deeply. The faint scent of lavender reached my nose - someone had been in here while I was training.

"Of course," I muttered bitterly. Another maid, no doubt. Touching my things. Invading my space.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away. They were lucky I hadn't caught them. Next time, they wouldn't be.

People like them needed to know their place - and I wasn't about to let them forget it.

Chapter 2

The morning air was cold, but no one dared complain. The maids and guards lay flat on the stone ground, their faces pressed to the cold floor. No one spoke. No one moved. They knew better.

I stood before them, arms crossed, eyes sharp as a blade.

"One of you touched my things," I said coldly. "I'm not leaving until I know who it was."

Silence. Not even a whisper.

My gaze swept over them - trembling maids, stiff guards, all too terrified to breathe too loudly. Good.

"I won't ask again," I warned. "Speak now, or you'll all pay for it."

Still nothing. My patience snapped.

"Fine," I sneered. "You can all stay here until you're ready to talk. I don't care how long it takes."

I started pacing slowly, each step loud enough to make the crowd flinch.

"You think I'm playing?" My voice hardened. "I will keep you here all day if I have to. No food. No water. You'll lie here like the useless lot you are until someone confesses."

A maid's shaky voice finally broke the silence.

"I-It was me," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I went in to clean."

I stopped and turned, locking eyes with her. She couldn't even lift her head.

"You?" I repeated, my tone sharp. "You decided to touch my things?"

"I... I was only trying to help," she stuttered.

"Did I ask for your help?" I cut in coldly.

The maid swallowed hard, her head still bowed.

"Answer me!" I snapped.

"N-No... no, Your Highness," she choked out.

"Exactly," I hissed. "You act like you're doing me a favor, but all you've done is make a mess. Now because of you, everyone else will suffer too."

The maid's head shot up, her face pale with panic. "Please, no! It was my mistake, don't punish them!"

I laughed - cold and bitter. "Oh, now you care?" My eyes narrowed. "You should've thought about that before sticking your filthy hands where they don't belong."

I turned to the rest of the group.

"None of you are moving," I said coldly. "Not until I decide you've had enough."

I ignored the muffled sobs and pitiful glances. Their feelings? Not my problem. They were born to serve, and if they couldn't get that right, they deserved whatever came next.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the stairwell. I didn't flinch - but the maids and guards did, their faces twisting with hope.

"Ivana!" My mother's voice rang out sharply, and moments later, she appeared at the top of the stairs, her gown trailing behind her. "What in the world is going on here?"

She stopped, staring at the pitiful sight before her - servants sprawled across the cold floor like prisoners.

"Why are they like this?" she demanded, her gaze snapping to me.

I crossed my arms. "One of them thought it was a good idea to go into my room without permission," I said coolly. "I'm teaching them a lesson."

The Queen's eyes narrowed. "I told her to clean your room."

I let out a short laugh. "And you think that makes it better?"

"Ivana," she warned, her voice low. "Let them go."

"No."

Her expression hardened. "I command you to release them."

I scoffed. "I don't care what you command. The deed's already done." I shrugged, tossing a careless glance at the trembling maid who had confessed. "They'll stay there until I say otherwise."

"You're being ridiculous!" my mother snapped. "It was a simple mistake - nothing worth humiliating them like this."

"I don't care," I shot back. "She touched my things, and now they're all paying for it. That's how it works."

My mother's jaw clenched. "You can't just-"

"Oh, but I can." I stepped closer, voice lowering. "And I will. Maybe next time, they'll think twice before crossing me."

Her face tightened with frustration, but I wasn't backing down. I knew I was winning. She always thought she could control me, but this wasn't her battle to win.

"Ivana," she tried again, her voice strained, "this is cruel."

"So?" I smiled thinly. "They'll live."

"You're impossible." She turned sharply, her heels clicking hard against the floor as she stormed off in anger.

I stood there, watching her retreat. When she disappeared down the hall, a satisfied smile curled on my lips.

"Victory," I muttered to myself.

I glanced back at the terrified faces still lying on the ground.

"Stay there," I said coldly. "I'll decide when you've had enough."

With that, I turned and walked away, my smile lingering.

I hadn't made it far when I stopped dead in my tracks.

My father, the King, stood directly in front of me, his towering figure blocking my path. His face was hard, his piercing gaze locked on mine.

My victorious smile vanished.

"Release them," he ordered, his voice firm and heavy with authority.

I lifted my chin, forcing my confidence to return. "No," I said coldly. "They deserve it."

"Ivana," his voice rose - sharp, commanding, dangerous. "I said release them."

"No!" I snapped, my voice cutting through the air. "They crossed a line, and they need to pay for it!"

"I won't say it again," he warned. His tone carried that weight - the one that made even the bravest of men cower.

"Don't go!" I shouted as he turned away. But he ignored me, walking straight to the terrified servants still sprawled on the floor.

"Get up," he said firmly.

The maids and guards hesitated, exchanging nervous glances.

"I said get up!" His voice thundered this time, and they scrambled to their feet, moving as if their lives depended on it.

"Y'all will still suffer for this!" I yelled, pointing a finger at them. "I don't care what he says - you'll pay! Just watch me."

The maids didn't dare look back as they hurried down the hall, vanishing like shadows. Even the guards moved quickly, grateful to be out of my reach.

I stood there, chest heaving with frustration. My father turned back to me, his expression grim.

"Enough," he said sternly. "We need to talk."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, here we go," I muttered. "What is it this time? Another lecture about being 'kinder'?" I sneered, folding my arms. "Don't waste your breath."

His gaze hardened. "This isn't a request, Ivana."

I clenched my jaw but didn't argue. I knew better than to push him too far. The last thing I wanted was a royal punishment - not now.

"Fine," I muttered, dragging my feet as I followed him down the hall.

But as I walked, my mind raced. Those servants thought they were safe now - but they weren't. Not even close.

They'll learn, I promised myself. They'll all learn not to cross me.

Chapter 3

I followed my father down the hallway, my mind still simmering with anger. My steps were heavy, and I barely concealed my frustration. Whatever lecture he had prepared, I didn't want to hear it.

When we reached his study, he pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter. The room was dimly lit, the scent of old books lingering in the air. I reluctantly walked in and sank into one of the chairs. My father closed the door and sat across from me, his face tense.

"Ivana," he began, his voice calmer now but still serious, "there's something important we need to discuss."

I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms. "If this is about me being nicer,I'm not interested."

"This isn't about that," he said firmly. "This is about our kingdom - our people."

I raised a brow. "What about them?"

He exhaled heavily, like the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders. "Our town... it's suffering."

I scoffed. "When isn't it?"

"This is different," he said, his tone sharper now. "King Roger's empire has been pushing us into hardship - increasing taxes, cutting off trade routes... our people are starving."

I frowned slightly, sensing the tension in his voice.

"And?" I pressed.

He paused for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "The only way to stop this - the only way to free our kingdom from his grasp... is you."

I blinked. "Me?" I sat forward. "What do you mean? You want me to fight?" My heart thumped a little faster. If this was about fighting, I could do it. I'd trained my whole life for moments like this. If they wanted me on the battlefield, I'd be ready.

"I can do it," I said quickly. "If you need me to fight for our freedom, I will."

My father shook his head. "No," he said gravely. "That's not what I'm asking."

I stared at him, confused. "Then... what?"

He paused again, rubbing his temple like the words physically pained him. "King Roger has a son," he said carefully. "Prince Darius."

I felt my stomach twist. Somehow, I already knew where this was going.

"And?" I said slowly, my voice growing cold.

"He isn't married yet," my father said, watching me closely.

I stiffened. My eyes narrowed. "Don't," I warned.

"I want you to marry him," he said, his voice heavy with finality. "It's the only way to save our kingdom."

For a moment, I just stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or scream. "You can't be serious."

"Ivana," he started.

"No," I cut him off, shaking my head. "You're asking me to marry a stranger? The son of a tyrant?"

"He's not his father," my dad said firmly. "And this isn't about love or comfort - this is about survival."

I shot up from my chair. "There has to be another way!"

"There isn't," he said, rising to his feet. "We've tried everything - alliances, negotiations, trade agreements - nothing worked. King Roger's demands are clear. Either we strengthen our bond through marriage or... he'll take what he wants by force."

I clenched my fists at my sides. "So you're just handing me over to them like a prize?"

"I'm trusting you," he corrected. "I know you're strong, Ivana. Strong enough to do what's necessary."

I turned away from him, pacing the room in frustration. This wasn't fair. I was born to fight, not to... marry some stranger like some helpless pawn.

"You're asking me to throw my life away," I muttered.

"I'm asking you to save lives," he said softly.

I swallowed hard, anger and confusion swirling inside me. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this.

But deep down, I knew one thing for sure - if my father was this desperate, things were worse than I thought.

The air in the room felt suffocating, like a storm waiting to explode. My father's words echoed in my head - Marry Prince Darius... it's the only way to save us.

"You can't seriously expect me to agree to this," I said, my voice sharp. "You're asking me to throw away my life - for what? A man I've never even met?"

"Ivana," my mother chimed in softly, stepping closer. "We know this isn't what you wanted-"

"Wanted?" I cut her off with a bitter laugh. "You think I wanted to be sold off like some bargaining chip?" I turned to my father, my frustration boiling over. "You've spent years training me to be strong, to stand my ground - now you're just giving me away?"

"This isn't a choice," my father shot back. His voice was firm, no longer patient. "If we don't secure this alliance, King Roger will crush our kingdom. The people are already starving - if war breaks out, we won't survive it."

"I'd rather let this town burn," I spat, my fists clenching tightly at my sides.

"You'll do as you're told," my father barked, his voice rising with rare anger. "This marriage is the only way to save us."

"I won't do it!" I shouted, stepping back from them both. My breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling as fury surged through me. "I don't care what you say - I won't be forced into this!"

"Ivana, please," my mother pleaded, reaching for me.

I stepped back again. "No." My voice shook. "I don't care what happens. I'd rather die than be forced to marry some prince I've never met."

Without waiting for a reply, I stormed toward the door.

"Ivana!" my father called after me, his voice demanding - but I ignored him.

"Ivana, wait!" my mother cried, following me out into the hallway.

"Don't touch me!" I snapped, yanking my arm away as they both tried to catch up. "I don't want to hear anything else!"

"I know you're angry," my mother said desperately, her steps quickening behind me. "But please, just listen-"

"I'm done listening!" I shot back. "You've already made your choice. Now I'll make mine."

I shoved the castle doors open and stormed outside. The cool air hit my face, but it did little to calm the fire burning inside me. I didn't know where I was going - I just knew I had to get away from them, away from this twisted plan they were forcing on me.

But no matter how far I walked, my father's words echoed in my mind.

The only way to save us...