I Will Be the Greatest Knight

The moment Irene's father left, she was expecting a slap in the face and harsh words. It wouldn't be the first time considering she had disobeyed her mother in the past. 

That was why she had decided in her past life to keep the peace even if it meant losing a part of herself.

Rochelle pulled Irene by the arm into the house, but she didn't utter a single word. 

Irene could only follow her mother's harsh guidance, wordlessly trailing her as she wondered what was next for her. For the first time, Irene had truly disobeyed her mother. She would certainly pay the price.

They went up the stairs until Rochelle was in her and her husband's bedroom where a bathroom was connected. They went through the door and stopped next to the wash basin where a mirror had been hung up on the plastered wall. 

Irene looked in the mirror at her mother who stood behind her. She was up to Rochelle's chin by that time. 

"Do you want to be a knight like your father?" Rochelle asked suddenly and Irene's eyes widened. 

"Where is this—"

"Answer the question."

Irene inhaled and exhaled slowly.

"I do," she responded. "I want to be a knight more than anything in the world."

Rochelle's jaw clenched. 

"Do you know what that will require of you?" she asked. "Are you prepared to leave everything behind?"

In Irene's opinion, what waited for her in the future was a husband she hated as much as he hated her. She had dresses and jewels she didn't care about. It was a life that felt like a noose slowly tightening around her neck until she was defenseless in the face of a mere goblin—something she found she was capable of defeating at eleven years old.

"I'm prepared," Irene persisted. 

Rather than the disappointed expression, Rochelle's face became blank, and that scared Irene more than harsh words or physical reprimanding. 

Suddenly, her mother pushed her to the side and rummaged through one of the drawers to the cabinet underneath the wash basin. When she found what she was looking for, she grabbed Irene's arm.

"There's no going back," Rochelle said. "You've made your decisions."

Irene's lips pressed into a thin line as she braced herself for what was to come. She hadn't seen what her mother had retrieved. She was too afraid to face what was to come next. 

Before she could grab Rochelle's wrist and stop her, Irene heard the shearing noise of her hair being cut and she felt a weight leave the back of her head. Where the hair had been cut, it felt cold. Her hair had kept her so much warmer than she realized. 

The girl's eyes widened. 

"If you want to behave like a boy, you might as well be one so you can join them," Rochelle explained. "Get out of this house and be a knight just as you've always wanted, my dear. Today is the last day I have a daughter."

Irene's mouth hung slightly agape. She knew that her mother would react poorly to her sudden rebellion but if it's what it took to get what she truly wanted out of that life, she was firm in her decision. 

However, it didn't stop the tears that fell down her face. There were still conflicting emotions inside of her. 

It was just in time for her father to appear in the doorway and let out a horrified, "What in the hell are you doing?"

Hair wasn't merely that to a line of people who had so few of their own kind left. It was their silent message to the world that they still existed even though most of them had been lost to history. 

While there were many of them in that region of the Hydrogian Kingdom, in the southern regions, seeing red hair was more of a rare occurrence. If the families spread out, they still had that connection to one another. 

"She said she was prepared to do anything it took to become a knight," Rochelle responded defiantly. 

Since Irene's hair had all been chopped off by that point even if it was haphazard, Rochelle felt that her work was done. She dropped the scissors into the wash basin and slowly walked out of the room. 

Her walking lacked urgency enough that no one would think she had been up to anything out of the usual for her. 

Arthur was speechless. His wife was firm in her old-fashioned beliefs but she had never imposed them so harshly. She especially had never done something that would be so permanent. 

He picked up the scissors again. The haircut his daughter had been given was uneven and awful. He could at least make it look normal. 

"What happened?" Arthur asked under his breath. 

When he wasn't looking at Irene's mess of hair, he was looking at the mirror, measuring her expression. 

"She said that if I want to behave like a boy, I might as well be one," Irene uttered. "If that's what's required to be a knight, I'll do it, father."

Silence fell over father and daughter and the girl could see her father's jaw clench as he finished her hair. 

By the time he was done with it, she had a hairstyle that fell to her chin. She didn't quite look like a boy but she definitely didn't look like a girl either. Entirely androgynous—perhaps it was for the best.

Arthur placed the scissors back into the drawer and he brushed off his hands with a spare cloth normally used to dry someone's hands. He was clearly contemplating something before he would speak. He couldn't talk while he was full of anger. It was something he would have to discuss with his wife later.

"The past few days, I've noticed a change within you," Arthur admitted. "There is an urgency I haven't seen in you before. All of this is because you want to be a knight?"

Irene turned to stare at her father. Had she acted that much differently? 

"May I be honest with you?" she asked.

"If not me, who else is there?" he responded with a question of his own.

"A few days ago I had a dream…"