Circumstances and Situations of Birth

The beginning of Alex's story.

I had known since I was little that I was different.
As a child, running through the brush with my slightly older brother, I watched his back and wished that one day I would grow up to be just like him.
Then I reached out my hand to my younger sister, believing it to be much bigger than it actually was, wish that I would grow up to be able to protect her.
Yet, nothing is understood when you’re that innocent, and when I was given tattered dresses and had my hair roughly pinned up something felt horribly inaccurate.
My brother left to work in the fields with my father, and I was told I wasn’t strong enough " that a girl’s place was milking the cows, cooking the food, cleaning the home.
It wasn’t long before my brother noticed my discomfort, and asked me to help him train in secret.
“I want to be a knight,” he said, with shining eyes. “Make a name for myself; get our family back on the straight and narrow!”
Father often went on drunken tirades about how our great grand-uncle dishonoured our family name and sent us ‘packing to this godforsaken farm’. I asked my brother why it even mattered. We were good farmers. We did what we could to get by.
“Because we don’t have to just ‘get by’ " we can be powerful again!”
Power? I was so young, so accustomed to life as a poor farm child that I had no idea what that even meant. I had no image or concept to connect with the term.
Still, as my brother picked up a wooden stick and pretended it was a sword, I could see it. Him, standing in glinting armour, brave and noble. He shone so bright.
He would show me no mercy, beating me with the stick nearly as mercilessly as a real-life enemy soldier. It was all I could do to block it with my own, and my strength was nowhere near a match for his. I was often covered in bruises that my sister demanded I explain, but I felt no pain.
It was thrilling, to not be treated as fragile, but as an equal.
My second younger sister was born when I was five, long before I began my makeshift training with my brother. She was quiet; a little gloomy, often watching me from afar " and one night, she happened upon my brother and I.
I was around twelve years old. My hair, not pinned, reached just past my shoulders " and in secret, I often wore my brother’s clothes. He had saved them for me, for our sessions, for the way I smiled when he gave them to me. We had just decided to call it a night, and the two of us sat back to back in the middle of the field, chests heaving from the strain of the exercise.
“What are you doing? Alex. Why are you dressed like that?”
May, my second younger sister. Her voice cut through me like a guillotine, as I felt a stifling fear stab into me. At twelve, no longer so innocent, I was aware that wearing my brother’s clothes was far from acceptable " and the discomfort I felt deep within my soul went past a misplaced caste system.
There was no word for it, but I felt that I had been somehow been corrupted at birth, and the gods made a horrid mistake.
I was a boy, but somehow I looked like a girl.
My older brother, Marcus, must have understood " even back then. Yet.... nothing was ever exchanged between us. No words, no bearing of souls at a fireside. Perhaps we were such kindred spirits, we just naturally understood each other. He was fourteen then. My other sister, Winoa, was a nine " too innocent yet to truly know what was going on; but May, at five, was staring at me with eagle-sharp eyes, an understanding present in them that made no sense to me.
Marcus and I scrambled to our feet, both wracked with guilt, knowing full well that what I was doing was wrong.
“Go away, May,” he hissed. “Go home!”
“I’m telling mother.”
She said it calmly, her voice carrying such maturity and intelligence " yet it was so cold. She spun on her heel and marched away.
My stomach dropped to my feet, and as I stood there, helpless, I felt my brother’s hand on my shoulder.
“I won’t let them send you away.”

The next few days were a blur. People came and went at a constant pace. Letters were sent " and I received the greatest beating of my life from my father. My mother looked at me with lifeless eyes. I don’t remember a lot of what was said, but I remember one of my overly fat aunts telling me that what she and my parents had suspected for a long time turned out to be true " so, perhaps I hadn’t been as secretive about myself as I had thought. It was eventually decided that I was to be sent away to work at the royal palace, a position that would earn my family a decent amount of money. It was achievable only through the old connections of my family’s history, and some coin purse strings pulled in the right direction. It was a servant’s position, nothing fancy " and the day I was to meet the man responsible for all this, my mother cut my hair short and told me I was to, from this day on, present to be a boy. Girls were undesirable, and would bring no honour back to the family name " only money through marriage. Past my confusion, I wanted to slap her. How dare she speak like that about Winoa?
Yet. I was to be a boy. It felt like a reward, more so than a punishment.
I was wearing my brother’s clothes, out in the open for the first time, mended by sisters to fit me the correct way. My name, Alex, didn’t even have to be changed. I was Alexander Wright, a name that once could have earned me much beyond that I had been given. Still, it was a poor farm child’s life that gave me this opportunity at a second chance " and so it is a poor farm child that I still take pride in being.
As my mother scurried off to see to other preparations, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself. I could hardly believe it. Even at twelve, I looked androgynous enough.
“You’re happy.”
The observation was delivered as less as an observation and more an insulted retort. I glanced at the door in the mirror and saw May. She was half-hidden by the door frame, staring at me with her wide, blank eyes.
I said nothing. I had detested her ever since that night.
“You get to be a boy like you wanted.”
This was said with an emotional detachment that signified she had already left me to die in her mind’s eye. As I continued to stare at her, she became less confident, her eyes trailing down to the floor.
“Good luck,” she mumbled, seemingly embarrassed, and scampered away.
It sunk in, that I would be leaving Winoa and Marcus. I wanted to cry, and so furiously rubbed at my eyes to keep the tears from falling. Yes, I was getting a new life " but my beloved siblings... would I never see them again?
A sob was just on the precipice of forming when Marcus suddenly bolted into the room, panting as though he had just run a mile.
“I’ve been pestering father, saying, ‘We can restore our honour!’ and he finally said yes!!!”
I stared, confusion pushing my sorrow down into my chest.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m coming with you!” Marcus roared, racing forward, grinning like a fool, grabbing my shoulders and holding onto them so tightly they hurt.
“I’m going to become a knight!” His face fell, only slightly. “Well, a squire. That’s it. But I’m going to work real hard and maybe I can become a real knight!”
This information was not forming sense in my brain at a pace that pleased Marcus, and so as I continued to stare with my jaw dropped open, he rolled his eyes and heaved an impatient sigh.
“You won’t be alone! Don’t you get it!? I’m coming with you!”
There was a pause. Marcus would be coming with me. I wasn’t going to be alone.
The fear and sorrow gave way to joy, and I felt the sudden, reckless tears come with abandon.
“Aw, you dumb butt,” Marcus laughed, holding me to his chest in a vice grip. His eyes were shining, threatening hypocrisy as he said, “Boys don’t cry!”
I couldn’t care less.

The next four years at the castle shaped and changed me into a young adult.
As far as the King and the court were concerned, I was a boy. This deception could easily cost the lives of my entire family, and it was only as I grew older that I realized what horrible treason my family had committed. Was our ‘honour’ really worth it?
I decided that it was not.
I also decided I greatly enjoyed my life at the castle, and didn’t want to go back to being a girl.
In defying the King, perhaps I had found a way to right the wrong I had committed by being born. The gods, in their perfection, had not created a flawed system " I was the freak that lay beneath the beds of children and haunted the righteous. So I remained hidden, and as I grew older, no particularly feminine features stood out in my face or my body. It must have been my reward for attempting to correct my blemished existence; and I was desperate not to lose this new life. I made friends among the other servant children, and was well-liked by the older staff as well.
My brother and I saw little of each other, as I worked late into the night, and he woke early for his duties. Still, we found time to take walks in the town, catching up on our latest adventures. He was just as well-liked as I was, but not for his personality so much as his skill. He said the knight he served was a newer knight as well, and the two were catching the attention of their superiors. Now, as an adult, I understand that his superiors wouldn’t have cared less about my brother, but in his youthful naiveté, that was how he understood things. Neither of us forgot to write Winoa, and she always sent her replies nearly immediately. I never heard from my parents or May. One year went by, with things peaceful and simple, then two.
It was when I was fourteen - the same age as my brother had been during those night time practice sessions " my life changed.
I was in the castle garden, a restricted area to most servants other than the ones who tended it. Every chance I was given to work there I took. It was beautiful, with flowers of bountiful sizes and colours filling my vision. A giant statue stood in the center, of a woman holding a jar bending down to collect water from a fountain. The soft tinkle of water was the only sound to accompany the petals and leaves blowing in the wind. I had been asked to collect a bundle of flowers for one of the guest rooms " apparently there was to be a visitor that day.
“Now, make sure you get the orange ones near the fountain.”
Patty, a larger woman who served as one of the head maids, stared down at me with a severe expression. “I’d get it myself, but I have so much to do, so much to look after...” she sighed.
“Who’s comin’, anyway?” I asked, as I juggled a few oranges above my head. With an irritated sigh, Patty snatched them from me, and sharply tapped me on the head.
“An ambassador, you dolt!”
I winced, and rubbed at the spot she had hit. That meant absolutely nothing to me, but the realization that I was going to the garden caused me to freeze, straighten up, and salute her as though she were the captain of the knights.
“Yes, ma’am!”
Patty fought the smile, but gave up rather quickly. She gestured for me to get going, and turned to head towards the kitchens. I grinned, balanced on the balls of my feet for a moment, and then spun around and took my leave.
As I ran headlong into the gardens, I hit into something both soft and hard at the same time. I didn’t quite fall over, but I very nearly did, and sort of flailed my arms around as I attempted to regain my balance. The thing in front of me collapse in a pile of what looked like a very fancy shawl.
I blinked, and looked closer at what I had just bumped into.
Peach and white fabric... the glint of jewellery in the sunlight... long, soft-looking blond hair that rustled as a face was upturned to look at me...
...and my stomach nearly leaped right out of my body.
The person I had just knocked over " nearly killed, probably, according to my fourteen year old brain " was none other than the princess of the entire kingdom: Elizabeth Reinhold. A girl I had seen perhaps once or twice in person, but whose likeness was hung in paintings in various rooms throughout the castle.
She was now staring up at me with a frown; clear, brilliant blue eyes scrunched up in defiance were tinting with tears. I wanted to drop dead, but at the same time my mouth had gone completely dry and my knees had turned to rubber.
No flower in that garden, no sight available to any man on earth, could have been nearly as beautiful.
“Y-Your...” was about all I could manage.
She glanced behind her, then leapt up and scurried behind me, her small hands clenching my shirt in her fists. She still looked awfully peeved.
My mouth was still open, but I had no idea what to say. She was clearly hiding behind me, but why? Was something bothering her? Or... was something threatening her?
I swallowed. My experience with fighting began and ended with my pathetic training attempts at wooden sticks. Still, she was the princess of this land, and I had to protect her. I wasn’t fiercely loyal to the crown, but I would lay down my life to see the proper bloodline protected.
I steeled myself, and stared hard at the bend of flowers in front of me. Footsteps could be heard.
The princess clutched tighter at my shirt, and I vaguely smelled something like citrus from her hair.
“Princess Elizabeth?”
It was... an old man’s voice?
In my confusion, I was caught completely off-guard as an old man, dressed in handsome clothing, turned the corner and spotted the princess and I. He looked just as perplexed as I felt, and after taking a good look at the two of us, burst into hearty, rather loud... laughter.
“Oh, Princess, you’ve stooped to involving the servants?”
“I refuse! I refuse, I refuse!”
It took me a moment to realize that the high-pitched voice was the princess’. I tried to crane my body around to look at her, but she only followed my movements in small bursts of footsteps.
“I don’t want to learn history!”
The old man opened his mouth to respond, but he paused once he seemed to have a proper look at my face. He blinked, and then took a few steps closer. Elizabeth tensed behind me, and I had absolutely no clue as to what I was supposed to do; but as he watched me, his eyes grew softer, and a warm smile replaced any confusion.
“Are you... related to Marcus Wright, by any chance?”
Marcus? I scrunched my nose in confusion. He was only a squire. Why was this, rather obviously, well-off old man asking if I was related to him? What did it matter?
Still, it was not my place to refuse him an answer, so I bowed my head in respect.
“I’m his younger brother, Alex.”
The old man snapped his fingers, as though he had received confirmation to his suspicion, and clapped me on the shoulder.
“I knew it! I had no idea his brother was working here, too! He’s doing so well, don’t you know. I’m surprised his brother is only a servant boy!”
Immediately after he said this, a thought seemed to occur to him, and he looked at me with a grave expression.
“Oh, well, I suppose with your great-uncle...”
My great-uncle? I knew he had somehow disgraced our family, but... and was our name once so highly regarded? I had never really cared much about my bloodline’s history, but I felt a sudden curiosity, and opened my mouth to ask what he meant when -
“Teacher! I don’t want a history lesson!”
Elizabeth piped up so suddenly " I had almost forgotten she was there, and I jumped in surprise. The old man laughed, and winked at me reassuringly.
“Alright, my dear, if you refuse to take the lesson, why not have Alex here take it for you?”
I felt the blood drain out of my face, and fidgeted nervously. To offer education to a servant, even in jest, was a little unfair. I had always been intrigued by the library, and when I had first arrived at the castle, used to walk past it several times a day just to see if I could get a peek inside. One of the keepers caught me several weeks later, and I was chastised so heavily that I pushed my interest far into the deepest reaches of my mind. It was not my station to be educated, but... how it must have felt to be able to read, to learn about the past, the inner workings of the world...
It made me slightly irritated at this selfish princess. She was given such a beautiful opportunity, and she scorned it?
I could hardly hide my distaste as I watched her glare at the man before retreating further behind me.
“Hahaha! Look, Alex even thinks you’re being ridiculous!”
I froze, and immediately bowed my head. It was incredibly inappropriate for me to display such insolence to the princess.
“I am deeply sorry,” I began, opening my mouth to continue my apology, but the words faded away as I felt the old man’s hand on my head.
“Hush, child. It’s quite alright.”
I felt someone boring holes into me, and glanced in the corner of my eye at Elizabeth. She was holding onto my sleeve now, staring at me with wide, crystal-blue eyes. I was sure they were the same colour as the spirits of the gods themselves. I couldn’t help but stare back, even as the old man resumed speaking to me.
“I should apologize, Alex, for I haven’t even introduced myself yet!”
I tore my eyes away from Elizabeth’s and met the old man’s once again. I could feel Elizabeth leaning heavily against me, craning her neck to look at my face. What was wrong with her?
“My name is Phillip Brown. I am Her Highness’ private tutor and attendant. I was also a good friend of your grant-aunt and grand-uncle.” He smiled as he said this, nodding to me in... respect? I was so shocked from the simple gesture that when I jerked my body into a low bow, Elizabeth nearly fell over.
“I-it’s an honour,” I said, smiling back at him once I had straightened myself " and I meant it. No adult had ever treated me with such sincerity before, and I immediately came to like the old attendant.
“The honour is mine,” he insisted, and fixed me with a strange look. “However... I wasn’t joking with you, Alex. I would happily offer you an education. You seem bright, and I am in desperate need of someone to take my place as Princess Elizabeth’s attendant. I think a Wright would make a perfect replacement, and I am sure the King would agree.”
It felt as though someone had covered my ears, and I was hearing everything through a strange, hollow echo. The Princess’ attendant? Me? How was that even possible?
My mouth was open, and all I could do was twitch my lips and make noises in response.
“It will take years for you to be properly trained, especially since you’re far behind other children your age at higher standing... but I think I owe it to your grand-uncle and aunt.” He placed his hands on his hips, winking at me once again. “What do you say?”
Elizabeth scurried from behind me, grabbing onto my sleeves again and bouncing up and down on her toes. She was much shorter than I was, and the top of her head kept bobbing in and out of view. I glanced down, meeting her eyes again. She was smiling.
I felt the urge to bolt, right then and there. She was angelic, and I was... disgusting. I was sure that being near her would only taint her purity.
Still... this was a chance. A chance to make up to my family all the damage I had caused. This was why Marcus and I were living each and every day. In coming to the castle, I had made his goal my own.
“Please, please!” Elizabeth whined, eyes shining with excitement. “You’re younger, and we could be best of friends!”
Phillip let out yet another loud laugh, and crossed his arms as he watched me, waiting for my answer.
“I-I swear to you, I won’t... disappoint you, sir.” The words tumbled out of my mouth as though someone else was speaking through me - and I kept glancing from Elizabeth to Phillip, my head bobbing comically as I responded.
“Then we shall begin immediately!” Phillip roared, gracefully crossing the distance between us and wrapping an arm around me. Elizabeth danced around to my other side.
“Teacher, does this mean I don’t have to take the lesson?”
Phillip chuckled as he led me along, shaking his head.
“No, my dear, but it will be postponed for today. I have a lot to catch poor Alex up on!”

It’s remarkable, how history and people intertwine and influence one another.
Patty never forgave me for forgetting the flowers, but she remained a true friend to me; and as I spent the next two years studying and training, we still saw each other and spoke often. Marcus thumped me on the back and laughed so hard I thought his head would pop off. He showed me a meager coin purse he had been slowly saving, and we each had our first drink of booze.
Half a year later, he would fend off a bear that nearly killed the knight he served, and Phillip would use the opportunity to have him promoted to an official knight. I showed great talent in both swordplay and academia, solidifying my position as Princess Elizabeth’s attendant and guardian. I rarely saw her during my time in learning, yet in two short years she blossomed into a picturesque princess. She was both obedient and dutiful " to the right people. To get her to her lessons was still like trying to tame a wild boar.
When I turned sixteen, I had my second official audience with the King. My first was the day Phillip decided to take me under his wing, and I remember feeling so wracked with nerves that my bladder nearly gave way right then and there. Still, peace had made our King kind, and he welcomed me with open arms and many comments on how I looked ‘just like him’ as a lad.

He never really stopped saying that, even now, as I am eighteen years old and probably look nothing like him; but he has treated me as kindly and though I were his kin, and my position as Elizabeth’s attendant has earned me close relations with nearly everyone in the castle, both noble and poor. As it stands now, my life is everything I could have ever wanted, and nothing I had ever expected. I still haven’t heard from my parents or May in many years, although Winoa has told Marcus and I in her latest letter that I have a younger brother. His name is Samuel. I wonder if I will ever meet him...
Ah, but writing on and on about my life is exhausting. There are books to read, lessons to prepare, and a very annoying princess to deal with.
I thank the gods from the bottom of my heart for giving me this second chance.

Author's Note

Please be constructive! I'll happily answer any questions. c: