THE CONMAN AND THE MAID // Harry Styles

The Princess

The snow fell weightlessly downward from the pure white sky, like colorless confetti in a wintry ballroom. It alighted on Reyna's pale face as softly as her mother's kisses, but it was cold, very cold. Her tiny gloveless hands were numb as she tightened her fingers around the grip of the wooden sword, trying to keep balance on her two awkward legs. Her mother had told her time and time again never to go outside without her gloves. But the little princess would rather lose her fingers than lose her weapon during a fight.

Her brother Egon stood a few feet away with his sword in his hand, mirroring her fighting stance, ready to attack. Egon was ten and she was eight. He was strong and fast, and their father — the King, was very proud of Egon's sword skills. Reyna knew there was no way she could beat him. She couldn't do that indoors let alone outside while she was freezing like this. Still, she didn't want to give up, so she hoped she would last longer this time.

"On guard!" Egon shouted and charged straight at her like a swift arrow. She managed to swing her sword and shielded her head from his wooden blade, but he continued hitting and she could only defend herself while stumbling backward. One hit in the stomach and she was sent to the snow-covered ground.

"This is why a girl should not hold a weapon," Egon said with a smirk as the tip of his sword was just an inch away from the tip of her nose. "You can't fight, little sister. You only get yourself hurt."

Reyna lied there, catching her breath. Her lustrous curls fanned out on the snow like ink spilled on a sheet. Hair so black against skin so white. Those features didn't let her forget that she was a true Callisto. She was her father's daughter, and she hated that, especially when she was lying on the cold hard ground, covered in snow and accepting defeat.

The little princess propped herself up on her elbows and watched her brother lower his weapon and turn away, content with his victory.

"Can I try again when we get back?" she asked.

Egon looked over his shoulder, a corner of his mouth quirked up when he saw Reyna struggling to get up as her feet were sinking into the snow.

"Sure, dear sister," he said. "Then I can beat you up again and mother can't say anything about it."

Watching Egon race back to the castle, Reyna heaved a sigh and came to pick up her sword. The cold that had seemed mild at first was now almost unbearable so she must return home before she began to freeze, or worse, her father realized she had left her chamber.

.

.

.

"Reyn! You are late!"

"I'm so sorry, mother. I was—"

"Fighting again?" King Willem raised his voice and the distinct chattering of his men faded to silence. All they could hear now was the desperate howling of the wind through the portcullis. Everyone was looking at the little princess, for whom they had been waiting in the awful cold.

Reyna fidgeted with the fur on her white coat, her eyes were glued to her feet. She was too afraid to look up into her father's eyes.

"Please forgive me. It won't happen again," she pleaded, despite believing she'd done nothing wrong.

If she hadn't had to take a bath, change into a dress and wait until the maids finished braiding her hair, she wouldn't have shown up late. But she knew every word she said now would only get her into more trouble. It was better if she stayed quiet, like a lady should.

Meanwhile, Egon was sitting in his carriage with a mischievous smirk on his face. She knew it was him who had told their father where she'd been. Of course, he must have purposely forgotten to mention that he'd been with her the whole time. But even if she'd told the truth, her father would rather believe she was lying than punish his perfect son.