Kit Takes Over the Narration

Kit Takes Over the Narration

Katherine Holmwood’s past was simple—a guard’s daughter, a prince’s best friend, no grand adventures or great loves. Her present was much more complicated. Not to say it wasn’t enjoyable. She was currently cuddling—as well as one could cuddle while wearing a full suit of armor—on a couch in a castle with a princess’ head gently resting on her lap, only a fluffy pillow and a layer of metal separating them.

The sun had set a while ago. Kit knew she should probably wake Fran or she’d have a rough time sleeping that night. Then again, if Fran was awake, and the rest of the castle was asleep, that would give them an opportunity to—

“Oh, there you are, Brendon,” the queen greeted as she breezed into the room.

At this reminder of Kit’s borrowed identity, she stiffened and looked guiltily at Fran. Even for an engaged couple bound to marry in less than two days, their position was a bit too familiar. “Uhhh.”

The queen only smiled softly. “I’m glad you two are getting along. I had a few … concerns, but ever since Fran met you, she’s smiled brighter than I’ve seen in years. I’m happy you’re the one she’s marrying, Brendon.”

Each word cut sharper than an enemy’s sword. The queen only approved of the arrangement because of Kit’s deception. If she knew Kit was but a lowly knight, the guards would probably be called to execute her for taking liberties with the princess.

“Have you seen my son?”

Kit blinked at the queen in surprise. Not that the blinks were very effective, since even her eyes were hidden behind a metal visor. “Rick? Not for a while.” She hadn’t seen him at dinner, but that was expected. Fran had specifically sent him on a wild goose chase to the tower so he would spend more time with Brendon.

The queen touched her mouth in that soft, delicate way some women did to convey both concern and disapproval. Kit wasn’t sure which the queen felt—probably a mix of both. “He’s been acting so strange lately. I have no idea why.”

Kit refrained from commenting. Lying by omission was much easier than coming up with a plausible lie for the prince’s behavior. Instead, she asked, “Are you worried something’s happened?”

The queen sighed. “I don’t know. He’s likely in that silly tower of his.”

Since the queen had provided the segue, Kit picked up the conversational thread. “Fran’s mentioned the tower a few times, but I haven’t seen it yet. Where is it?”

“Oh, it’s not in the castle. It’s out in the forest.”

“Would you like me to go check on him?” And check on Brendon at the same time. Her prince said he’d be fine, but she still worried about him while they were separated. Her job was to protect him, not lounge around with his fiancée’s head in her lap.

“I don’t know. He gets a little”—the queen hesitated—“particular about his privacy.”

Once she’d had the idea, Kit wouldn’t be dissuaded. “I’ll just pop in to see if he’s okay, then come right back.” Kit nudged Francesca awake. The princess yawned and stretched her arms high above her head, presenting Kit with a lovely view of her plump breasts—her mischievous smile implied she’d done it on purpose—then noticed her mother standing in the room and straightened into a proper posture.

“Your valiant knight has volunteered to go on a grand quest,” said the queen. Her smile resembled her daughters—subtle and sweet, full of promises, but with a maturity Fran hadn’t earned yet.

“A quest?” Fran asked, frowning in concern. “So close to the wedding?”

“I’m off to fetch your brother from the tower,” Kit explained, clanking to her feet now that her lap was devoid of princesses.

“Should I join you?”

“No, it’s late and it shouldn’t take me long.”

“Alright, well … make sure to remind Fred about the book,” she said, italicizing the last two words to indicate that she was not actually referring to new reading material. They hadn’t pre-set a code, but Kit guessed this should be translated as ‘check to see how he and Brendon are getting along and if we need to run any other interference.’ Quite a lot to pack into two words.

“Of course.” Kit bowed her head, the only courtesy she could convey with her current bulk. “You should get to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then she clamored out of the room. After wearing the armor for almost a full week, she could move better in it, but ‘better’ did not necessarily mean ‘easy,’ so it was still a lot of effort to get from the sitting room to the foyer. At her current rate, she would reach the tower by morning.

“Can I help you, good knight?”

Kit turned around to see who had addressed her, almost toppling over in the process. A hand steadied her and she tilted her head down to see the trail of a blue sleeve with gold stars. “Good evening, Good Wizard,” she greeted. “I was just off to look for the prince.”

“Oh? Which one?”

They’d explained the whole situation to the Good Wizard upon his arrival. They’d had to, since he recognized that Kit was not Brendon. Though it’d been even funnier when Fran introduced herself as the bride, and the wizard had replied with the same blunt, “No, you aren’t.” It’d taken several back-and-forths and a lot of confused questions to discover the problem: the Good Wizard did not experience time linearly.

Kit was not up to the task of describing exactly how this worked. The wizard had given her three very solid, detailed metaphors and she understood none of them. Instead of giving her a fourth, he’d finally explained it as such: “When I cast the initial spell, I performed all related weddings at that time. Most of them blurred together because the script is always the same, but this one stood out as it was the only one with two grooms. I did have a few with multiple brides though.”

“So, if you’ve already performed it before, that means everything works out in the end?” Fran had asked eagerly.

“I didn’t say that,” the Good Wizard replied with a solemn frown.

“But—”

“Evil mages are tricky adversaries. They don’t care what time I’ve already experienced, they’re perfectly capable of fucking it up anyway. Actually, they are much happier when they disrupt events someone else has already experienced. The chaos energy that develops—” He stopped mid-lecture and said, “But neither of you would understand and I simply can’t risk giving you any ideas.”

Kit took away the following from the explanation: Brendon and Rick were supposed to marry, but that fate could be altered if an evil mage intervened. That would have put her at ease if it weren’t for all the odd things happening and Rick’s general refusal to behave in a predictable manner.

Facing the Good Wizard now, Kit answered, “Both of them, technically, but Rick is the one I’m concerned about.”

“Yes, Frederick does have that effect on people. Well, come along then. The longer we spend lollygagging in the dark, the more opportunities one of the Great and Terrible Evils will have to act.”

Kit hadn’t technically invited the Good Wizard to join her, but she saw the advantage in bringing a mage along. He strode ahead of her, leading the way out of the castle. “Should we take a horse?” Kit suggested as they passed the stable at a clipped pace with no sign of stopping.

“Saddling them would only waste time.”

Kit did her best to keep up with his long strides. Stealth was not an option in the armor, no matter how slowly she walked. She was probably driving away all the nice forest creatures and attracting all of the hungry ones. “Why are we rushing? Are the princes really in danger?”

“I have no idea.”

“But you said—”

“That I don’t experience time linearly. That doesn’t mean I can predict the future. I haven’t seen this scene yet.”

“But the wedding—”

“Yes, I’ve ordained all of the weddings, but I didn’t witness the events leading up to them or stay for the receptions. Well, I have since then, and I am now, if that makes any sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

He didn’t reply. Kit wondered if her inability to understand his time-travel lifestyle had insulted him into silence until he ordered, “Stop. Remove the helmet. You need to see this clearly.”

Since he already knew who she was—or who she wasn’t, at least—she removed the helmet and shook out her sweaty hair.

The wizard pointed to the forest. Kit obediently looked, then stared, then blinked very hard to erase any false images in her brain, and stared some more.

The forest loomed before them, dark and foreboding, every tree covered with thorns and malice.

The Good Wizard’s grand, commanding voice quavered as he announced, “Evil has infiltrated the kingdom.”