1 Chapter 1 Arrival

An odour thus foul, the air felt dense with sickness and death. All but sewage soiled the masked maiden. Her chest flat like a board and skin painted in mud, blood, and unknown pale yellow stain on her grown.

A door, loud with fright, its hinges grinding against one another. A man, his steps triumphant and void of grace. He bound and masked the frail maiden. Her soles bare and blooded. She was a helpless thing, dishevelled, longing for a warm bath to heal her wounds and cure her tiredness.

"Is it, she?" an unknown guard asked.

"It is." the man confirmed. Footsteps approaching in a mass. "On guard, men!" he barked.

"Good day, Prince Capsian." the three guards chimed.

"At ease, men." the prince ordered gracefully. His tone rich with respect.

"Your Highness, this is the girl King David spoke of. From our reports, her mother is dead and without a family." he paused. "However-" he was interrupted.

"However?" he questioned.

"There is no easy way of saying this, Your Highness." his face contorted with confusion. "May I?" he gestured to the girl.

"You may, Sir Balan."

The guard kneeled before the girl, his hands reaching for the dress and lifting it high for all to see. The Princes gasp confirmation of the hiccup they'd found themselves in, something the king would be unwelcoming of.

"Sir Balan, you stated she was a girl. I see no girl here, do you?" he questioned. His mind running circles around the unique situation the kingdom had found themselves in.

"Your Highness, we speak no lies. This girl was overseen by a priest at birth. She is, I mean, they are, legally a woman." he attempted to reason with him.

"Show me their face!" he ordered. His tone not that of anger, but confusion.

A wise decision from the soon-to-be king, one that many in the kingdom favoured over his father. A bitter old man with a nasty habit of taking his knight's word over his own flesh and blood. Something Caspian feared would be his demise, all kings and queens have numbered days if they chose a path of uncertainty. That is why this woman, who the king demanded be brought to the castle by force, was of great importance to Prince Caspians life as an heir.

"She-" he muttered. His eyes deceiving him.

Caspian's eyes were full of admiration, such a rare, radiant beauty was not only a prize to be won, but the circumstance in which their identity was questioned bestowed great mystery upon them. An alluring mystery the Prince hope to uncover.

"Speak, are you your mother's daughter?"

"Yes." he answered frailly.

"Why did your mother do this to you?" he asked sympathetically. Leaning on one knee as he reached out his hand for his.

"Do not touch me!" his voice femininely deepened.

"How dare you-" Sir Balan snarled?

"Silence!" Prince Caspian commanded. "I apologize. I will not touch you it's just my eyes deceive is all, you are a man." he sounded uncertain although he bore witness to his manhood. "Yet you look no different from any noble women I've laid my eyes upon." his tone was curious. He favoured this young man.

"No matter my looks, I am my mother's child and your men will treat me with respect." he was a fiery beauty. "From the way your men were muttering, they found my femininity arousing. Will you stand for their insolence?" he was literate and well trained. Whoever raised this child must've been one of the elites.

The crowd of men bursts into laughter at the boy's cry for consequence, they were disrespectful to him as a woman and more so as a man. It sickened him and the Prince to his surprise.

"I promise you, they shall all be punished. For now, may I take you to my chambers, where my servants will care for you?" he held out his hand. His words genuine.

The guards stood in ashamed silence. The boy staring at their foul faces one by one before taking the Prince's hand and following him through the dungeons and into the luxurious castle. He'd lived only once in a castle, which occurred after his mother died, a great woman; full of promise and gratitude. She would've been a fine queen, sadly she never had a chance in the classist world in which they lived.

Being bathed by women was an odd experience for the boy, who lived without female servants. His previous household gifted only men income and the best of the best; a room under their roof with everything a person could ever want or need.

"Please, master. You'll catch a cold?" the poor servant girl pleaded. A lashing coming her way if the boy were to fall ill in her care.

"I can wash myself now leave." he ordered. "Get out!" he cried.

"Your highness, you must understand?" the servants tried to reason with him. However, he had another idea.

"Return to your duties. I shall care for him." he took the cloth from the stool and approached the feisty fox.

"Why are you here, I could've lived without your accommodation. There is no need for your pity-"

"Pity?" he smirked. "My servant's care is pitiful?" he asked in a scolding manner.

"No… that's not what I-"

"Your words spoke true. You find dissatisfaction in my home, you care not for the care of others because you know better. Am I correct?" he questioned his character.

"You do not understand!" he roared. "I was raised by a mother who loved me, that be a girl; however, she treated me with respect. It was only until she died that I wrongfully mistreated by a man who swore to be like a father to me." he wept. "Although it was dire, I'm frightened by this place and the men who brought me here." he slid down the frame of the wardrobe. "You cannot begin to understand my situation, to be a boy born like this. A freak, that you somehow let into your chambers for whatever strange, demented reason." he held his knees to his chest.

The Prince sat on the rim of the tub, his eyes softened by the boy's tangent. It was true he had no knowledge of life with his condition, it was frustrating to think of the dangers his appearance alone had put him through. It brought him great discomfort to believe anyone, even his people, could harm or discriminate him for something entirely out-with his control.

"What is your name?"

"Clémence." he spoke with a quavering voice.

"Clémence, I have no right to say I understand your struggle. In fact, I could never imagine what you've been put through, I can only lend my support." he slowly approached him. "The men who disrespected you, were lashed for what they did." he'd kept his word. "My father, he is the man who beckoned you here to which I had no part in. He wouldn't allow it." he sighed. "That's why, I too feel improper with our situation. He does not know of your condition, which is probably a good thing but, if we can work together. We might be able to become a team?" he wrapped the towel round him.

The boy wiped his eyes, his long wet red hair brushed behind his ears. "I think… we give it a try." he pulled the towel over his toes as the room became colder. "But, would that mean I have to call you, your highness now?" he spoke without jest, but the prince started laughing.

"Ha ha… no, there is no need for such things, call me Caspian." he smiled. Taking his hand and guiding him to the bathtub. "Bathe and I will find you night clothes." existing the room, his Princess made a request.

"Can I have a night gown?" he quickly corrected himself. "Please, Caspian?" a sweet request from a feminine boy now that is definitely one way to pull the Prince's heartstrings.

Caspian nodded as the doors closed behind him. The water just right for the new Princess to finally rejuvenate themselves from this morning and afternoon's unfavourable journey.