The sun began to rise, lighting up the hills of Avelyn. Birds started to chirp with the arrival of dawn, but were unheard due to the loud clashes of two swords coming in contact with one another.

The pair swung their swords skillfully; sweat dripping from their faces, as they had been practicing for quite a while now.

Noticing an opening, the brunette ducked down avoiding the other sword as they put their leg out, sliding it behind their opponents feet, making him fall on the ground, as they put the sword under their chin, breathing heavily.

"You did it." The man stated proudly, a grin forming on his face despite his situation. "That was a smart move, I'm proud of you, Clara."

The girl smiled, her heart soaring with pride at her success after all the hard work. She dropped her sword, giving a hand to her opponent, helping him stand up.

"Do you swear that you didn't let me win?" She asked.

"Clara, trust me, I would never let you win purposely." The girl giggled, knowing his competitive nature.

"So, do you think the king will allow me to be knighted?"

"I don't know." He sighed, shaking his head. "I'll try my best to convince him, because we need your skills."

"Thank you, Edwin." She smiled gratefully.

"You're absolutely welcome." He smiled, putting a hand on his ward's shoulder. "Your parents would have been so proud of you."

Clara chewed on her lip, lost in thought. After a moment of walking back to their home in silence, Clara spoke up.

"Would they have?" She asked nervously. "People don't seem to approve of a woman fighting."

"Then those people are ignorant." Sir Edwin said. "There are no differences between men and women. What matters is their heart; if they are good or evil. If a man can fight to protect his home, then so can a woman. I see no shame in a woman fighting."

Clara nodded, letting his words sink in.

In that moment, Clara made a vow to herself; to always be pure of heart, no matter the obstacles.

Despite her being the youngest among the knights, she was able to hold against them all skillfully, and would win frequently.

All except Edwin; until now.

"Race you home?" Clara challenged with a grin before she ran off, her laughter blending with the sounds of the town waking up.

"Good morning, butterfly." Clara picked up her little sister, kissing her cheek softly. "Did you have fun with Auntie Hazel?"

The six year old giggled, nodding her head and smiling at the woman behind her, who smiled back and ruffled her hair.

"Thank you for watching her, again." Clara chuckled.

"No worries," Hazel waved her off. "I love Lila. Besides, you're practically becoming a knight!"

"Not yet." Clara laughed softly as they walked towards the castle, making a few stops in the market to get what they need to make breakfast for the royal family. "I doubt they would knight a woman, but Edwin said he'd talk to the king."

"He'd be a fool not to knight you." Hazel rolled her eyes, smiling brightly when the small girl repeated her words softly. "You're better than all his men, even Lila agrees!"

"God, I hope she doesn't say that in front of him." Clara laughed lightly.

The three girls bought all they needed and made their way to the castle, entering the kitchens and putting on their aprons after Clara had put her little sister with the rest of the children of the castle workers.

She was grateful that the king made a room for the children, so that the workers wouldn't have to worry about their kids, and in her case, her sister.

The brunette pulled back her hair into a ponytail, not caring how messy it looked, even if her best friend's giggles only increased with every glance her way.

"I get it, I can't tie my hair. Can we work now?"

"At least let me do it for you."

"Fine." She sighed in defeat, untying her hair and handing Hazel her ribbon.

Hazel gathered all her hair and gracefully tied it off with the ribbon before spotting a metal spoon on the table and using it to pull her hair up into a bun.

"There you go." Hazel smiled.

"Did you tie my hair with a spoon again?"

"Maybe."

"Well, I'm not one to argue." Clara chuckled, simply accepting the utensil in her hair.

"Honestly, how do you work a sword like it's nothing but don't know how to tie your hair?"

"Priorities, dear Hazel."

"I pity your future husband."

"You and I both know I care very little for marriage."

"You never know." Hazel shrugged, cutting up vegetables. "What if the prince asked you?"

"I'd rather marry a rat."

"Didn't you call him a rat last week?" She raised an eyebrow. "Is that a yes, then?"

"...Shut up and make your stew."

Hazel laughed at the playful glare Clara sent her way before focusing on her job once more.

The ladies in the kitchen all work in sync, each softly humming a song while they each did their part.

Soon enough, it was time to deliver the food to the rooms of the royals, as well as some castle residents.

"The Prince's manservant has fallen ill; we need one of you to take his breakfast up to him." A maid said as she took the tray of food prepared for the king.

Clara paid no attention to what was said, since her mind was solely on that day's knight training, taking off her apron and smoothing down her tunic and pants.

She refused to wear dresses, because as graceful as she was in battle, she always seemed to trip over thin air, and a long dress would not be a clever option.

Her cream tunic was paired with a brown corset to make it look presentable, and easier for moving.

"Oh, Clara, since you're done with your work, can you please take this up to the Prince?" Molly, an older cook asked the young maiden.

Clara's eyes widen in surprise. She glanced at her best friend, who was grinning at her and wiggling her eyebrows, making her send a glare her way.

"Are you sure you want me to do so?"

"Yes, I don't trust any of the other girls." Molly whispered to her, subtly nodding at the few other girls her age that were glaring at her in jealousy.

Clara sighed mentally, but wore a soft, kind smile at the older woman whom is the closest she's had to a mother.

"Of course, Molly." She takes the tray from her and begins her trip up to the royal chambers, careful to not drop the food.

Upon arriving at his door, she took a deep breath, only now realizing that she can't knock.

She tried to balance the tray in one arm and knock with the other, but she almost dropped it, so she thought otherwise.

Biting her lip, she thought about knocking with her foot, but found it would be rather rude.

With one final hope, she lifted a leg up, resting the tray on her knee, holding it with one arm carefully before knocking three times, and quickly taking hold of the tray and standing properly before she fell.

"Enter." She heard the prince say from his room, and she realized an even harder task in her way.

Opening the door.

Holding the tray securely with one hand, she extended her other arm from under the tray towards the doorknob, and carefully opening it. When she finally got it open, she walked in, glancing around his room quickly to find the table, walking towards it when she spotted it and placed the tray on it with a sigh of relief.

"What are you wearing?" The prince walked out from behind his divider, his eyebrows furrowed at the girl.

Clara looked down at herself then looked the prince in his eyes, her eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Clothes?"

"Aren't women supposed to wear dresses?"

"What I wear is none of your concern, my lord." She said calmly, her eyes hard as stone. "If you excuse me, I have work to attend to."

"Wait," He called out, making her stop in her steps. "What's that in your hair?

A moment of silence passed.

"A spoon."

"Why is there a spoon in your hair?"

"Why not?"

"You're insufferable."

"As if you're so much better..." Clara muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes.

"What do you work as?"

"I'm a cook, my lord."

The prince nodded, looking at his tray of food. With a shake of her head, the girl left the room, not caring if that was improper behavior in front of him.

She jogged over to the room where her sister was to check up on her and take her with her to train with her guardian and the other knights, as the little girl wanted to see her older sister battle.

This was the day she'd prove herself to the king, and she couldn't wait another second.

Lila walked over to a stool in Edwin's tent, and sat on it. Clara found the armor she had made specifically for her and wore it, starting with the chainmail.

Though the metal was heavy, Clara stood with such grace and confidence, as if she was a completely different person from when she took the prince's breakfast to his room.

With her head held high and an unwavering smile, Clara took hold of her sister's hand and made her way to where Edwin stood, watching his knights battle one another, studying their movements and where they lack in practice. He spotted Clara's approaching frame and smiled, pulling the small girl into a side hug, ruffling her hair to make her laugh.

"The king will be here shortly." He informed her before turning to his knights. "Alright, you lot. I have another challenge, not only for you, but for my ward as well; I want you all to fight against her, at the same time."

Clara's heart dropped for a moment, as she was not sure that she could take them on when she is drastically outnumbered.

Twenty seven to one, to be more specific.

"And I want you to use your real swords."

"She wouldn't survive it!" A new knight mocked, his tone dripping with arrogance, making her jaw clench in fury. How dare he underestimate her?

"Just try to defeat her, you'll find it to be harder than you think." Edwin glared at the young man. He looked at his ward with a reassuring smile, letting her know that he believed in her.

"Clara will win!" The small girl clapped her hands, a bright smile on her face.

With a determined nod and a kiss to her sister's cheek, Clara took out her sword and walked towards the knights, her eyes striking fear in the men, despite them being much larger than her.

"Begin!"

Edwin retreated from the field, keeping Lila away from any harm that may come her way.

Clara stood her ground, her knees bent to keep her balance, waiting for the first strike as she studied the posture and position of as many knight as she could.

Sir Liam lunged forward, swinging his sword at her, but she retaliated quickly, blocking his blade with her own, the sound ringing in their ears. Using the shocked state of the knight, she slid her feet behind his, making him fall down, just in time for her to block another attack from her right.

More knights joined in on the attacks, each swinging their swords, trying to harm her or unarm her.

Clara had mastered timing, so after each block, she used the time they took to retreat their sword for another swing, to push back another knight.

Noticing how most relied on only their weapon, rather to their own movements; Clara used that to her advantage, as she began to unarm those she could.

Moving on to the smarter fighters, she relied heavily on her instincts and reflexes, as well as her legs for kicking the knights away, or tripping them.

With a loud yell, she pushed her blade against another, making the man stumble back into another knight, just as she lifted her leg, kicking the knight behind her.

Lila had covered her small ears with her hands, burying her head into her guardian's side every time a knight managed to cut Clara with their sword.

One of the unarmed men came over, wrapping an arm around her waist, but she was quicker and bended over, pulling him over her shoulder and throwing him in front of her harshly.

Her head snapped back, hearing the footsteps of another man, and she moved to the side, narrowly missing the sharp blade, hissing in pain when she put too much weight on her wounded leg.

The cool breeze stung her wounds, but she refused to give in to the pain, running on adrenaline and determination.

After what felt like hours, the battle ended, with a panting Clara on her knees, her sword etched to a knight's throat.

With a pained groan, she stood up, trying to catch her breath as she helped the knight up, her arms aching at the weight.

She bowed her head with a slight smile in respect, as did the knight. She turned and returned the gesture to every knight, until her eyes met Sir Daniel, the one who had doubted her in the beginning. He avoided her steel gaze, ashamed of his false judgment.

Her gaze met Edwin's, and he nodded at her with a proud smile, which she returned before she noticed the king standing next to him. She tried her best to curtsy, biting her tongue to not cry at the pain. The king smiled and nodded.

Then she limped back to the tent, followed by the royal physician so he could tend to her wounds.