Not Monique

Cathlinn struggles with the bedding. A maid had come in earlier and was surprised when she had said she'd make the bed herself. This had become her personal space and she wanted as few people here as possible. She groaned and adjusted the sheets for the fourth time, rubbing her head. "Damn it," she muttered. "Shits too big for one fucking person."

Her doors opened and she threw her head back, "I swear to fucking god. If you're here for more laundry, everything is fine."

"I'm here to speak with you," she turned at the deep voice, staring at the king and stiffening at his expression.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," she stated. He was watching her closely as she set the bedding down, his eyes narrowing as he studied her.

"We have maids, Monique," he sighed.

"Making your bed is the first accomplishment of the day. It sets a certain mood for the rest of it and I'd like to feel like I did something today," she retorted. He stared before sitting in one of the couches in the room, rubbing his head.

"That's fairly wise, Monique," he sighed. "But you do have duties that mean a lot to the country."

"Like playing therapist for people," she snorted. "No thank you. You and I both know I'm not her." The room became quiet, Cathlinn returning to try and figure out the bed. The king watched until she finished, the blankets pulled tight and some order returning to its appearance.

"You requested you be taught the sword by the Captain," he said. Cathlinn looked over and slowly moved to the chair opposite him, watching his chest rise and fall. She began to fidget, her fingers dancing around each other slowly.

"I asked to get better," she corrected. His eyes narrowed and she curled in on herself a bit.

"You don't know how to wield a blade," he muttered.

"The other me probably didn't," Cathlinn muttered back. His. Oft was quick to stiffen up, his eyes blazing with an anger she guessed was from being undermined. She'd never seen him that angry.

"You think you know how to hold a blade? To fight with one," there was irritation in his voice. Cathlinn began to wonder what the difference was between this step father and her real step father. The talks never went like this; they never got aggressive with each other unless they your playing around. It scared her a bit as he stood up. "Get into those ridiculous clothes you appeared with. I will have someone get you in a few minutes," he grunted as he stood, walking for the door before stopping.

It was a silent hesitation as Cathlinn watched him leave. He was probably searching for his real step daughter on the downlow, frustrates that he had to see a fake sit at his dinner table and eat as if there hadn't been food set out before. Cathlinn stood up slowly after the door shut, walking to her closet and pulling out the jeans. The jacket was too loose, a bigger size than necessary but a comfort nonetheless, and would get in the way of the fight. That thought instantly made her nervous as she started to get dressed. Her eyes fell on the tattoo on her forearm and she sighed, pulling the jacket on and zipping it up half-way.

Her heart raced as she kept a straight face, her shoes on as a knock came to the door and a terrified maid walked in. Cathlinn followed her down the hall and outside, a bunch of guards standing around a ring with the king and another guard standing there. The king glanced over before throwing a sword to Cathlinn's feet, the maid squealing in shock. "You're fighting him," he stated, "No dirty play. No armor. And there is no forfeiting."

Cathlinn stared at the blade, picking it up and bouncing it as a shield was tossed next to her as well. She glanced down at it and frowned as she held the blade with both hands. The man was confused, his brown hair shifting as a deep frown formed on his face. Cathlinn used both hands while it seemed the guards were used to one and a shield, her eyes glanced about just to confirm. Her heart was pounding and soon it became hard to breath as something began to press on her chest. It hadn't been even a second before the guard was on her, swinging and their swords connecting.

Her hands stung from the connection of the steel but she managed to block his onslaught enough. She twisted the blade around, slicing downwards and barely cutting his shirt open. The panic attack was only getting worse as the man became more serious, his face scrunching up as she finally began to strike back. This sounded nothing like gunshots, felt nothing like the rifle that would kick into her shoulder when it went off. The man's shield struck her jaw, sending her sprawling on the ground. She grunted and quickly got up, watching the king stop the others from interfering. If she could breath right, she'd be looking better than the man she was against as he panted quietly.

She shot to her feet, getting up close to the man as his eyes widened. The hilt hit into the man's stomach and he stepped back, clutching at it as she watched him. Someone yelled behind her and she turned, shirking back as a blade swung close to her face. The guard grunted as his blade overreached, stepping towards Cathlinn angrily. She rubbed at where the shield had hit, glancing behind her as the other man stood up. How was this fair? Was the king trying to dissuade her?

She stared right at him as his arms crossed and their eyes met. He was worried but he was trying to make his point. She grit her teeth and swung, keeping the tip of the blade in front of her as she struck close to one of the men's bodies.

"You were impressive, your highness," Cathlinn looked up at the Captain, a smile on his face from ear to ear. "I caught the end of that match and you did great!"

"Thank you," Cathlinn was questioning his compliment outwordly, gaining a confused expression from the man.

"Your highness-"

"It's Cathlinn," she sighed. She looked down at the papers in front of her, rubbing her temples as she squinted. Something was pushed to her over the papers and she blinked, lifting her glasses and putting them on. The Captain smiled as she blinked and she gave a soft chuckle. His eyes widened and he plopped down in the seat across from her.

"You laughed," he gawked. Cathlinn blinked at him before she felt her face turn a bit red. She stared at the papers and started writing, cringing at the difference in script. "Your highness-"

"Cathlinn," she stated again. He stared and his smile fell a bit.

"I can't call you that," he sighed. "It's your middle name."

"Monique is my middle name," she snorted. He blinked and groaned, putting his head on the desk.

"You really aren't her," he sighed. "I was hoping you were and this was just some magic gone wrong."

"Magic," Cathlinn perked up, teaching for her neck and stopping when she didn't feel the pendant. They hadn't let her wear it since she got there and she had adjusted to her neck feeling empty.

"Yes," he nodded.

"That exists here," she asked. She shot to her feet, stumbling a bit from the heels they forced her into once more.

"Did you have an affinity for it where you're from," the Captain asked. Cathlinn hesitated a bit at that. How could she explain how her own place worked? How could he understand it fully? She sat back down, staring at him as she thought. "Your- Cathlinn?"

"What religions are there," she asked slowly. He almost immediately perked up, a grin spreading across his face.

"You wish to be spiritual," he asked.

"Well, no but yes," she leaned forward, pulling out a blank paper as she began to write. "I'd say I am spiritual, but it was always questioned by other religions. I just want to see if there are any parallels so I can explain it?"

"You've asked the right man," he sang out.