Princess. When you hear that word, what do you see? Someone imposing, confident to the point of arrogant, clinging to her position and using it to her advantage? These are true of most, but of the Princess Lafrindyx, of the Tribe of Mystic Fire Topaz, they could not be more false. Sometimes when we are alone, I call her the Anti-Princess, because she defies every expectation with her lowered gaze, gentle voice, and impregnable faith in the benefit of equality for all people.
I was brushing her hair.
“I wish I were as beautiful as you.”
She always says that. I stared down at her then, my fingers still in her hair--her hair like liquid silk gushing over the back of her chair, vibrant in its hues of pink, purple, and teal. In the reflection of the mystic fire topaz mirror I could see her delicate features, her large anxious eyes, and her flawless figure. Her glowing complexion was immaculate, the strains of the mystic fire topaz colors blending and yet standing out against one another. Looking at the princess was like looking into a painting that breathed. “You are far more beautiful than I.”
She smiled uneasily, looking down. She wanted to hear me say that, but she didn’t believe it. Whenever she looks in the mirror--mystic fire topaz so perfectly polished that we can see our glowing faces-she sees imperfections that no one else can see.
That morning I hugged her briefly, as mystified as always by her unsure gaze. She was brilliant. She was beautiful. She was the most powerful girl our age...in existence, as far as I knew. Certainly in the Mine.
“You’re going to help people,” I said brightly. “Go on!”
She stood. She hesitated.
“You can do it!”
“I wish you could come with me.”
“What do I know about running a kingdom?” I scoffed. Her eyes were so dark, so anxious, so serious; I couldn’t help but laugh. I, sit in the throne room with her? I, give advice and resolve conflicts with the king and queen of Mystic Fire Topaz? And yet she wasn’t joking!