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“Good evening to you, Lady Asha.” A tall wolf said with a broad smile.

His coat of fur was a finely groomed ebony, his golden eyes shining like polished coins, and wrapped about him were the trappings of status. His suit was neat and perfectly tailored, a mixture of black and red in honor of his House’s banner. A golden brooch hung on his lapel, marking his status as a knight serving within His Majesty’s order.

The dining hall was very crowded this evening; the white and blue marble floors were filled to bursting with guests. Dressed in all manner of fine livery, lords and ladies from across the kingdom had come to gather for His Royal Highness’ 18th birthday. The prince was now of age and everyone was whispering to one another about when the royal prince would take a bride, and to whom he would be betrothed.

“And to you, Sir Malcolm.” Lady Asha replied, who was another wolf of noble birth, one who boasted fur of ivory in contrast to the former’s ebon.

She was clad much as the other women in the hall were, wearing a dress befit her status. White silk with thin threads and gold and silver woven into the embroidery on her every cuff and collar. Sapphires hung from both ears and around her neck with an especially large one resting atop the rise of her bust where her bodice failed to reach.

“You are not playing your part today.” Sir Malcolm told her as he finished his approach.

In each hand he held a glass of wine, one red and the other white. He offered her the glass of the white, which she took from him with a graceful nod of thanks.

“And you are quite observant; might I ask the occasion?” She asked in reply.

“No occasion of note, apart from His Royal birthday. Should you not be in his entourage?” He asked, prying nosily.

She scoffed curtly before giving the wine a small taste. It was just sweet enough for her palate to tolerate.

“I should be, but Her Majesty wanted me far and away, as to ward off any suspicions of favoritism in the court.” She replied candidly.

“Ah, that would do, as if a single day would make any difference with the court.” He replied with equal candor.

She scoffed again, taking another albeit larger sip of her wine. Rumors were as common as fire in a hearth, and especially so when the royal family had a son.

“You look delightful in a dress, by the way.” He added.

She laughed. He was not the first to tell her so, and no doubt he would not be the last.

Lady Asha of the Noble House of Vallum, was the chosen bodyguard to His Highness, Prince Julian Gisel. As has been the tradition for several generations, the Royal Family would choose a female bodyguard for every child born to their name. The tradition’s origin was born from tragic happenstance. Once, in times long gone, Prince Gerrard Gisel was nearly slain in his crib by the blade of an assassin, and had it not been for the bravery of a handmaiden he would not have lived to take his rightful place on the throne.

An ugly dispute over who had right to the throne had turned into a bloody plot for power. Nearly a success, it was the effort of one handmaiden with a kitchen knife throwing herself at the Prince’s assailant that stopped it. Through God’s Grace and divine fortune, she was able to sink its blade deep and true into his neck, killing the assassin with only moderate injury to herself, and none at all to the babe in the cradle.

The King and Queen of the time rewarded the handmaiden with many honors, and from a commoner she rose to become the first Lady of a new noble House, the House of Vallum. Since then, the House of Vallum had grown much in size and was known for far more than its ancient history of a brave handmaiden, but a tradition had been forged by the Royals of old, born of sentimentality. The House of Vallum has forever since gifted to the Royal Family the loyalty of one of its noble daughters, specifically to the care of any child born to the Royal Family.

And now Lady Asha Vallum was the bodyguard to Prince Julian Gisel.

“Thank you, it is not often I get to wear one.” She replied.

“I might also add that your seamstress did a fine job of disguising your features. One would not think you so well trained if they were not aware of your station.” He told her.

She feigned a smile, feeling in that moment just how tight certain parts of her dress her. The fabric hugged her tightly in one place here and another place there, often leaving her feeling like a bird trapped in a cage much too small. Though her dress had its frills and folds, it was not a loose garment. Her corset was sinched tight, the buttons running up her back felt like they were sewed together with twice the thread of any other woman’s dress. Even breathing was a labor of patience, an act that must be measured and calm so as to prevent her chest from swelling too greatly with a breath of air.

It was a far cry from the more masculine attire she would normally wear as a bodyguard to His Highness.

“Is this your way of telling me that I am not popping out of my dress?” She asked, giving him a sideways glance.

He smiled, shrugging with a lift of his glass.

“I’ve seen your arms. I dare to say no thread could contain them for long.” He replied after taking a sip, the glass lowering back down as he grinned with amusement.

“Sir Malcolm, I dare to say you should mind your tongue as we are in noble company.” She reminded him.

“Indeed.” He chuckled.

In the distance there was a sudden but gentle clapping from a single set of hands. A lone, aged figure was now quickly moving through the dining hall, clapping to get everyone’s attention. As the man moved through the throngs all conversation ended, and the whispers and murmurs fell silent. Now, the hall was quiet with the clapper retreating to the other end of the room as all the gathered guests focused their attention on the direction from which he’d come.

The ceremony was simple. His Highness was finally introduced to the hall, dressed in a fine ochre tunic and trousers with as much livery as he was allowed. It looked very pompous, but he was the Prince. Everyone saved their applause, as now was not the time for such things.

The Prince needed no introduction of course, but Sir Conner, the Knight Captain of the Royal Guard spoke briefly on the Prince’s behalf, speaking boldly and kindly of the young man, before at last welcoming a congratulatory applause to the young boy that was now a man. Only then did the countless dozens of lords and ladies give warm applause, Lady Asha included.

“He looks so out of place in that tunic.” Sir Malcolm whispered.

“Her Majesty wants him to look as robust as his father.” She whispered in reply.

His Highness’ attire wasn’t ill fitted, but it was certainly padded in places. The young man was a fox built much like his grandfather had been, quite slender, the opposite of what Her Majesty had aims of him looking. He was a lean young man, but tall for a fox. The Royal Family was not known for birthing burly sons, but His Majesty was a rare breed. He had inherited too much of his late mother’s lupin heritage and was thus built more like a wolf than a fox. The houses of wolves and foxes often intermixed, but the seed of a fox was known to be quite strong, so it was rare to see a fox built like a wolf.

“Maybe if we come to war and he’s given a sword.” Sir Malcolm replied.

“Perhaps.” She replied noncommittally.

She hoped no such thing would occur, as this day’s age was a peaceful one. She’d never known any combat outside of her training, but some of her knighted peers had experienced a skirmish or two. Sir Malcolm had seen the battlefield although sparring against a pack of rogues hardly counts as warfare. These were pleasant times to live in, especially when compared to the histories.

The Prince was now being shown off like a newborn, standing at the front of the dining hall and being greeted by many great nobles. Every lord and lady who was the master of any house was given preferential treatment, and soon after their daughters. There were a lot of daughters here, all ladies in waiting, and all like meat in a butcher’s shop hanging for display to the hungry eyes of the unwed man. Even if they could not catch the eyes of His Highness, then perhaps they hoped one of the unwed noblemen would catch their fancy instead.

Lady Asha herself was unwed, a spinster due to her age. Any daughter that accepted the duty to function as a personal guard had to make sacrifices, such as putting off marriage until a woman is past her prime. It was not something her House did easily, and with time it became a challenge. Some years produced candidates eager and unwavering, and other years the pickings were slim or unwilling.

Asha Vallum had been a willing and eager volunteer. She’d only been eight years only when she was chosen, having first set her eyes on her young charge when he was still an infant in the crib. Born only days prior, she’d been asked by her parents if she would serve the new Prince as his protector and being only eight years old at the time, she excitedly thought of the stories she’d been told time and time again about her noble ancestors. She swore to them then that she’d make a fine protector, a perfect bodyguard to keep His Highness safe, just like the women that had served before her.

She smiled as she watched the Prince awkwardly accept the multitude of greetings and good tiding, carrying himself with as much grace as he could manage. He was not so good at accepting this level of attention.

“You aren’t required to hide all night from him? I don’t see a proper guard about him at all.” Sir Malcolm whispered more quietly than before, leaning in towards her side to be cautious with his voice.

She sighed.

“I am expected to keep an eye, and no more, until the formalities are settled.” She replied in a whisper of her own.

The wolf nodded.

In due time, those formalities were concluding. The dining hall had many tables, but no chairs except for those that were for Prince Julian’s table. His and Her Majesty then arrived late, almost a tradition now, and announced with their arrival that a feast would soon commence. His Majesty was a stocky fox, as described, tall and broad of chest. Announcing the coming of a feast with serving carts being wheeled in behind him was like watching a stage play and all its actors fulfilling their parts.

Soon then, the Royal Family was seated at their table while food was brought to every table in great quantity. Chairs were then brought in, one by one as servants hurriedly stocked each table with a suitable number of seats. Some guests had to be asked to feast in an adjoining room as there simply weren’t enough tables to seat everyone within one room. A great many guests had come for the occasion.

“There is a chair open for you.” Sir Malcolm told her with a smile and hand on her shoulder as he stepped around her to make his way towards a table of his own where the other members of House Malcolm were seated.

“I noticed.” She bid him farewell and eyed the open chair at Prince Julian’s table.

She caught his eye, and he was looking at her expectantly, and so she sighed and began to move across the hall, weaving gracefully through the thinning crowd of servants and guests alike.

“Sit, Asha!” His Majesty invited her warmly, his voice a deep baritone, so natural a voice for a wolf but falling off the lips of a fox.

“Your Majesty.” She bowed to him, and to Her Majesty and Prince Julian.

She took her seat, letting her glass of wine come to rest at her side where it belonged. A servant quickly arrived and began to top off her glass with fresh wine before departing.

“I hope your birthday has met all your expectations, Prince Julian.” Lady Asha said across the table to the man of the hour.

“It has, thank you Asha.” He replied with a voice softer than his father’s, something more befitting a fox.

The feast in front of them was roast duck and Cornish hens, honey glazed butterflied quail, and what appeared to be some flavor of baked fish dressed with a lemon cream sauce. There was so much meat on the table that there was hardly any room for the bowl of mashed potatoes and the basket of bread rolls.

“The quail is quite good.” Her Majesty commented on the food.

His Majesty agreed and seemed to have a share of everything on the table now sitting on his plate. Lady Asha was not fond of quail and the Cornish hens, and so she favored the duck and fish more. With such a heavy diet of meat in front of her she feared she’d not have enough appetite to last her through to the end of dinner.

As the evening grew longer, guests began to slowly excuse themselves with formalities and pleasantries, all the while the Royal Family and certain others remained. Sir Malcolm took his turn alongside a few others, bidding everyone farewell, including Lady Asha. Once enough had departed Her Majesty decreed that the festivities had been concluded and everyone that had remained were ushered out, save for a select few.

Lady Asha remained, the servants all making themselves busy to tend to the messes made by such a large gathering of people. Her Majesty took it upon herself to give instruction while His Majesty bid them all farewell as he wished to retire to his chambers. It fell to Lady Asha to take responsibility for Prince Julian, leading him from the dining hall with an escort of only a single guardsman.

“Did you enjoy the party?” The Prince asked her once they had left.

“I did, Your Highness. And you?” She asked in reply.

The fox nodded in agreement as they walked towards his chambers. He was tall for fox, as said, but she was still taller. The benefit of being a wolf was that height came naturally to their breed. Had he been a typical fox he might have risen as high as her shoulder, but with him taking height from his lupine heritage he instead rose to her chin.

“I did, but I do hope the next one is not so large.” She told him.

“I agree. That was too many people, and I cared none for most of them.” He replied with candor.

“You should mind your tongue a fair better, now that you are a man. As should others.” She replied, turning her head to look over her shoulder at the guardsman marching behind in their wake.

The guardsmen’s eyes opened wide at that, giving her a curt nod in return before she turned her head back. It would not do anyone any good for more rumors to spread, such as who the Prince did and did not favor in his parents’ court.

“Asha?” The Prince inquired, clearly not understanding her.

“Do not be saying out loud whom you do and do not like. A boy can be forgiven for many things, but not a man.” She told him.

The fox paused for a moment, then nodded. When they arrived at his chambers, servants were already present to greet them. Lady Asha dismissed the guardsmen to return to his other duties, and then she followed the Prince inside his chambers. He was quickly set upon by three servants, all of whom were directing him to the bath for him to wash and prepare himself for bed. Lady Asha had her own rooms adjacent to the Prince’s.

She departed, drawing a single servant into her wake as she left. Her rooms were only two, and very modest for someone of her status. Though her position was important and well respected, the accommodations were humble. She had a single bedroom with an adjoined room for a bath and toiletries. The servant helped her unbutton the back of her dress and took care to collect every single item Lady Asha removed. Piece by piece she disrobed, her comfort rising like the morning sun as the cage of her formal attire was unlocked. When the servant had everything in hand, Lady Asha was quite bare and retreated to the bath to tend to herself while the servant girl made it her business to tend to the laundry.

Now alone, she breathed a huge sigh of relief, drawing in a large breath of fresh air. She let her lungs fill to the brim, her bust rising high with her inhale as she relished the freedom. She exhaled deeply, and then began to rub herself on her arms and legs to work away the discomfort from all of the places where her dress had pinched and squeezed her. She did not take a bath, as she had already done enough of that preening earlier in the day in preparation for dinner.

When she emerged in a nightgown, she enjoyed the draft that blew up the underside of the gown. She’d worn the uniform of a guard for so many years that it had become natural to her. The way a tunic and trousers hugged her body was so much more comfortable than the painful beauty of womanhood. Not only was she a spinster, but a tomboy at that.

Lady Asha then knocked on the door that connected her bedroom to the Prince’s. A servant answered, and it was clear that His Highness was finished with whatever business he needed to do before bed, as he was now wearing a nightgown of his own. As was her duty, she stepped inside and performed a quick cursory check of his chambers to ensure all was well, and when she was finished His Highness dismissed the servants.

“You should get some rest, and soon. Tomorrow you and your mother will go through all of the gifts you were given today, and you will have to write letters of thanks to everyone.” She told the Prince.

He sighed and gave her a nod.

“I am glad today is finished.” He told her.

Asha stepped up to him and put her hands over his shoulders.

“I think you did well today, and you will do well tomorrow.” She encouraged him, patting him over the shoulder.

“Thank you.” He smiled up at her, and she returned it with one of her own.

The wolf then drew him into a hug and gave him a squeeze.

“Happy birthday, Julian.” She whispered into his ear before pulling herself away, feeling his arms hesitate before letting her go.

She wished him a good night before retreating to her bedroom. After her door shut with a wooden clack, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d spent the majority of her life as his bodyguard, spending nearly every day at his side, but it was very rare that she was ever truly alone with him. All manners of servants, soldiers, members of the royal court, the royal family and its many extensions were always around and about them.

Prince Julian was not so good at handling being the center of everyone’s attention, and Lady Asha was not so good at quelling how much she’d grown to care for the young man she’d known since a little girl. She’d been warned of this. All of the women that came before her had been warned of this. Still, she was not prepared.