A wolf in sheep’s clothing

Sanctus. It appears to be amazingly simple as it slips from your tongue, when you voice the letters and form a word, and yet, it was much more than that, each letter forming a story. A life. It was a name, one that screamed with promise, with a bright and prosperous future. It was my name, the one that I was given on the day of my birth, a name fit for someone of my standing; one that radiated elegance.

My father, the king had chosen it from many others; from thousands of possibilities that loomed. Though I scarcely think of what I could have been called and smile upon the one he had chosen, the one he believed suited his youngest child; that fit his daughter like a saddle on a horse. In the old tongue of our language, the word directly translated into ‘pure’ someone who believes in doing no wrong, a person that will do anything to avoid injuring another.

I smiled at the thought, but my heart sank, my name would always mean pure. But I would not remain that way forever, one day I would have to follow in the footsteps of my bloodline, fight in the endless wars that plagued my home. I could never remain innocent like the small animals that scurried across the land, knowing nothing of greed nor selfish intentions; but only to protect their families and survive the harshening climate.

My mother had died only a few days after I was born, proving that no love is stronger than a maternal bond as she sacrificed her own life to bring me into the world; giving me a chance at life. At being my own person. Though, without a mother to raise me, my questions grow, ones that I cannot ask my father. That only a woman could answer.

My sisters told me of how she was a strong and prominent woman, unlike many of our society as the men ruled over the lands; leaving the females to observe silently from the shadows. Though that was not the woman who gave birth to me, not the one that my father grew to love with all his heart; all of his soul. She was perfect, the ideal role model for a princess of my age. Yet, it would never come to be, I would never know her for who she had been and she would never come to know the child that she gave her life for. Perhaps she watched me from her place among the stars, but I was not hopeful of such things.

Yes, I believed that our people moved on to live with the gods in the sky, but what good would that do?

My mother would never be able to communicate with me, scorn me on my misdeeds or sooth me when I injure myself. No, I would not have a mother like my siblings had; only the memories that they share telling me of her and how much she loved her people, her family.

I sighed, stretching as I turned over in my large canopy bed, the delicate cherry wood hand crafted by the best sculptures in the city, each of the four posts telling a story; the pictures carved into them soothing me when no one else could. When I missed my mother with all of my heart; one carved into an elegant woman who held her child close to her breast, protecting her child against the cold and cruel world.

Must be nice, - I thought absently – to have someone to protect you; to have a mother. My father did his best for me, but he was never around, the many continuous roles that a king played often keeping him from being a father; from being there for his children. Instead, he assigned me a guardian, an ex soldier and one of my father’s closest companions. It was not the same as having my father with me, to hug him and hear of his day; but Derrick had become something similar to me, a father in every meaning of the word. Someone who took care of me and held my best interests at heart. He was a valiant and strong willed man, one who was not afraid to scorn me when I disobeyed the rules or stepped out from my place as the princess.

Though that was the thing, being a princess was not what the citizens of the kingdom would believe. It was not about how elegant I had to be, or how I must speak in the presence of my father’s closest comrades and members of his court; the ones who were permitted more time with him that I myself could imagine.

No, it was about being a silent witness, someone who stood in the background waiting for the day that she would aid the kingdom in the way that she was born to do. Trained from birth to become the perfect wife, to dote on who my father would choose for me; to stay in his shadow and never be disruptive.

but i never wanted any of that, i wanted to be different from my sisters, i wanted a different life. i wanted the same rights as the men get, but for now; that wasnt possible.

i could never have that.