waking up by the sweet voice of her pidgin chirping besides her bed, Zaria stirred
"Hollow little pigeon, how was your night?" she said softly, smiling.
The bird fluttered around her, tickling her cheeks with its wings, making her laugh out loud.
Meanwhile, Sarah, the maid assigned to bring Zaria her morning tea, heard the unexpected sound of laughter echoing from the princess's chamber. She froze.
"Who could be in the princess's room this early? And… wait—that's a female voice!" she mumbled, curiosity deepening.
"Since when did the warrior princess start making friends?" She quickened her pace.
Inside, Zaria gently brushed the pigeon aside and stood.
"Haha, that's enough now. Let's go! I've got important things to do today."
She stretched, her voice firming with confidence.
"Today, I duel with that so-called prince, Kai. I'll defeat him—crush his pride, break his bones, and leave him a laughingstock. I'll bring glory to our kingdom once again!"
Just as she spoke, Sarah opened the door—and froze.
What is this? Is this really the feared warrior princess?
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
Could someone have switched her overnight? I've only read of such tales in fairy stories—but now I'm standing in one… She remained stunned, trying to process what she was witnessing.
"Sarah! Sarah! Sarrrrah!" Zaria's sharp voice rang out, breaking the spell.
"Y–yes! Yes, my princess. I—I'm sorry," Sarah stammered, bowing as she handed over the steaming tea.
Zaria narrowed her eyes.
"You're a psycho, you know that? I've been calling you for the past five minutes. Do you have a death wish?"
"N–no, my princess. I'm so sorry!" Sarah said quickly, trembling.
"Drop the cup and get out. Inform the head maid about the after-party tonight."
"Yes, my princess," Sarah replied, bowing once more before quickly exiting.
Zaria stood, walking to the ornate, carved royal mirror. She looked at her reflection and gave a confident smile.
"You've got this, Zaria. He's no different from the others you've defeated," she said to herself.
"This is what you were born for—to subdue, to conquer, to reign."
She pulled the pin from her hair, letting it fall in soft, bouncing waves. A faint smile touched her lips.
"So much like Mother's…"
🌸 Flashback:
"Mother, I don't want to train! I want to play with my friends," young Zaria sobbed.
"They laugh at me in sword class… They say I'm too chubby."
Her mother knelt, wiping her tears.
"Zaria, you are not like other girls. You are a brave girl. One day, you'll become a brave queen—even stronger than your father."
"Really, Mother? Can I really be stronger than him?"
"Of course, sweetheart. Everyone—even your father—will respect you. Your name will echo through the universe. You will be the shield of our people, the heart of our kingdom. You'll make Mama proud."
Zaria blinked up at her mother as she strapped on her own armor for training.
"Mother, my hair looks so much like yours. It's beautiful and long… Why do you always roll it up like a prince's?"
Her mother giggled.
"Because your hair should only be seen by me and your father."
"But why?"
"Because when it's down, people see softness. But when it's up, they see power. They'll bow, respect you—and fear you."
"Okay, Mama."
Back to Present:
Zaria smiled again at her reflection.
"You always wanted me to protect our people. I will—with my life. That's my vow to you, Mother. And I'll take good care of your husband, just like you wanted."
She turned away from the mirror, her eyes sharp with determination.
"Time to dress up. It's going to be a long day