Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sofia was average. Sure, she might be a princess now, but even amongst royalty she was painfully average.

Her mom had tried to console her, telling her that she had her own talents that she should be proud of.

And Sofia was! She didn’t dislike herself. In fact, she agreed that she was a good person and good friend. But that didn’t stop her from never falling behind, but never quite excelling.

She was content with it. Others may see it as a negative thing, but not Sofia. She found joy and peace in her averageness.

At least she did—when she was given the amulet, everything changed both in and around her. She suddenly found herself with an incredibly powerful artifact that dangerous people would do anything to get their hands on.

Of course, at the ripe age of 8 (which was way too young to be given such responsibility—not that she fully understood that fact yet), she couldn’t fathom just how much weight had been on her shoulders.

When Cedric tried getting her amulet over and over again, she never even flinched. She took his words and intentions at face value, and assumed she’d have no reason to suspect otherwise.

Once again, her young age was both a blessing, in that it allowed her a differing perspective from the adults around her and helped her retain a bit more friendly innocence, and a curse, in that it kept her from having the experience needed to properly protect herself.

This became much more evident when Sofia found herself faced with a familiar stranger.

Sofia had been relaxing in the garden, enjoying a picnic with Clover.

Out of nowhere, Sofia began to feel something like magic in the air around her. She wasn’t quite sure where it was coming from, but she was sure of its origin—Cedric had been teaching her about the magic that’s naturally around everyone, and how to feel disturbances.

And then it began to take form. At first it was a small spark, but soon a bright flash consumed Sofia’s vision.

When the smoke cleared, a crumpled, unconscious person was left laying on the ground.

“Baileywick! Come quick!” Sofia shouted, rushing to the stranger’s side.

They had medium toned skin, and dark brown, curly hair—not unlike Sofia herself. They were covered in a tattered cloak, and every piece of skin below their neck was covered with some kind of clothing.

Baileywick, as fast as ever, was at their side in a matter of seconds. When he turned them over, Sofia could see a scar under their right eye and a bit of dried blood on the corner of their mouth.

Baileywick must have seen it as well, as he called, “Patricia, would you mind fetching a medic?”

While they waited, Baileywick attempted to wake the stranger up. He lightly tapped one of their cheeks, and then tried shaking their shoulder, all to no avail.

On his final shake, however, the stranger seemed to cry out in pain, an unconscious hand shooting to their abdomen.

Baileywick told Sofia to look away, and she unquestioningly obliged. She was honestly scared of what she may see, should she look back down. She trusted Baileywick to keep her peace of mind safe, and knew that there must have been a good reason why he would warn her.

After a few minutes, the stranger having been moved to where their head was resting in Bailywick’s lap, a few medics finally arrived with a stretcher and took them away.

Sofia tried to straggle along behind, but they moved too fast for her to keep up. Instead she decided to follow one of their maids to inform the king of the incident.

After all, if anyone could figure out this conundrum, it would be her father!

Still, she couldn’t shake the uncomfortable familiarity on their features. If she was being completely honest, this stranger quite reminded her of her late dad, which was impossible, given that he never had any other children and no family to speak of other than her and her mother…

She would help find out what was going on, for sure!

Chapter Text

Cedric was never a simple man. Sure, he detested theatrics, but he still allowed himself extravagant dreams and not-so-simple pleasures.

These things kept him grounded throughout his effort, relaxed in his attempt to steal the Amulet of Avalor. They kept him sane as he failed not only himself, but also his king and his family, time and time again.

He tried to ignore the feeling like he was a failure. It didn’t work.

He was never given any important tasks—the king instead choosing to delegate him to entertaining children and cleaning up small, easy messes.

Cedric knew he had potential. He knew he was powerful—“Great” even. However, this seemed to go unnoticed by most around him. The only exception to this rule?

The very child he had been attempting to steal the amulet from all this time.

He found it ironic that, in the end, his only friend would one day be betrayed by him. He enjoyed small moments with the princess here and there—not at all growing attached, mind you—yet still reminded himself of his goal. He was to steal the amulet and overthrow the royal family, taking on the crown himself and finally proving to everyone that he was worth a damn.

That he wasn’t a failure.

Of course, throughout these thoughts, the king still found new ways to undermine his power.

A maid, one which Cedric never seemed to remember the name of, came bursting into his tower. Without knocking. And, because he just can’t catch a break, Princess Sofia was trailing behind, a look of urgency on her face.

He sighed something big, rolling his eyes as he turned to them. He did wonder why the Princess was dressed in her nightgown, but decided against pointing it out, wanting to avoid idle conversation.

“Couldn’t even knock this time, Princess? And who is this maid that you’ve brought this time?” He figured it would be something small, just as all the other times people have come bursting into his private area unannounced.

Sofia gestured wildly with her hands. “Mr. Ceedric, someone appeared in the gardens using magic!”

This was, as he had expected, not something that warranted his level of ability.

“There’s one more thing…” The maid added, eyes frantic, “They’re claiming to be Sofia from the future! The king is requesting your immediate presence in questioning them.”

Now this was something that sounded vaguely interesting! Obviously they were lying, as time manipulation spells, especially time travel in particular, were extremely costly. They usually required some kind of sacrifice, something of equal worth to the risk of bending space time, and such an item was extremely hard to come by. Hell, Cedric himself hadn’t ever seen anything that important in his entire life, and he doubted he ever would.

Still, if they were requesting him for something as easy as catching a liar, he would happily oblige. While it pained him to use his abilities in such a way, he couldn’t pass up the chance to prove himself (though, whether he was proving himself to his parents or the king, he was unsure).

He stood up from his desk, arm poised so that Wormwood would have somewhere to perch. He continued being sat on his branch, and Cedric huffed, his intimidating entrance having been ruined.

“Fine. Lead me to this supposed time traveler.”

The maid and Sofia led him across the castle, to a room in the med bay.

Now that was quite curious, wasn’t it? Were they injured?

As the maid opened the door, he could see the moonlight shining in through the window, only diluted by a single candle on a nightstand.

Sat upright in the bed was the intruder.

They turned slowly to him, eyes blinking as they tried to tell who was coming in.

He had to admit, they wore a pretty good disguise. They had darker skin and curly hair, much like Sofia. They even looked a lot older, early twenties probably. However, it seemed as though they forgot to hide a scar under their right eye. This would be an easy interrogation after all.

He strode up to their bedside. “Well, if it isn’t the intruder pretending to be the princess from the future. Tell me, criminal, what business do you have faking her identity?” Better to get right to the point than beat around the bush.

“I’m not faking anything. Ask me something your Sofia wouldn’t know yet. I will give you an honest answer.” It seemed as though they didn’t care for Cedric’s directness. Their eyes remained forward set on him, unblinking and blank.

He scoffed, “Fine, we can do this the hard way. What was my…” He tried to think of something that current Sofia wouldn’t know, but he may tell her in the future. “… school’s name?”

They looked down at their hands, resting in their lap and one covered with bandages. “It’s a trick question. You were homeschooled by your mother. She always made you peanut butter sandwiches for lunch.” They hesitated for a second, before finally looking up at Cedric’s dumbstruck look.

He coughed a bit, schooling his face, and declared, “This still doesn’t prove anything! Just because you know that… private detail… doesn’t mean anything!”

“You used to have a pet lizard,” they continued, “and his name was Polly. You found him on the playground where you and the Ki…. Dad… used to play.”

That slip up wasn’t lost on Cedric, but he would keep it to himself for now—he would probably use it for ammunition later.

“Fine. Let’s say you are the princess from some distant future.” He gestured with his hand, rolling his eyes along. “Why would you come back here? What’s so important that it’s worth a sacrifice as big as that?”

Sofia and the maid didn’t seem to follow his last comment, looking at each other in confusion. However, the stranger continued looking Cedric straight in his eyes.

“Something terrible. Something I need to prevent.”

He paused.

He didn’t believe them fully yet, but that determination… definitely seemed like the princess.

He crossed his arms, huffing one final time, before saying, “Alright. I’ll believe you for now. Maid!” He really didn’t want to deal with this right now.

She startled, looking slightly offended at the absence of her name.

“Go tell the king that she’s telling the truth. She is believed to be Sofia, at least for now.”

He waved her off, and she shot one final dirty look at him before hurrying off to update the monarch.

Sofia, acting as the young age that he so detested she was, bounced up to this new Sofia.

She began rambling something off, something that Cedric couldn’t be bothered to follow.

He turned to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it is getting late and I would like to actually get sleep tonight. I suggest you do the same, princess… es?”

“Oh, you’re right!” The princess stated, as if it wasn’t obvious. “You should get some rest, too! Goodnight, me!” She waved as she walked back to the door.

Other Sofia waved back as she walked off. When she was gone, old Sofia turned back to Cedric. “You can’t let the king know about your suspicions. I know it sounds bad, but it would only hurt the both of us.” They leveled him with a knowing glare, although he wasn’t sure what she knew.

He flustered for a minute. He was sure that gaze was intentional. “Alright, sure, I guess. Goodbye.” He walked out and shut the door hurriedly, his mind racing.

Surely this future Sofia wouldn’t know about his plans to overthrow the king, right?

Smoothing out his hair and robes with his hands, the continued on his way. There was no use worrying about all that right now—it could at least wait until morning, after he’s in a better head space and physical condition. After all, if this really is an intruder, he was prepared for a fight.

And he wasn’t the royal sorcerer for no reason, despite what the king may think. When he really focused, he could be ruthless with his wand. 

Chapter Text

Amber wasn’t sure what to think of Sofia, at first. She knew the girl was Miranda’s child, of course, but she didn’t seem much like her mom at all. Amber assumed she got her personality and looks from her father, the only thing reminiscent of her mother being the hair.

Even still, she promised her father that she would at least attempt to be civil, and she did… kind of.

In the end she couldn’t hold all of her feelings at bay, and acted in a less than princess-like manner. Sofia, being ever graceful and kind, accepted her with open arms regardless. And Amber would never forget that act.

Still, when face to face this the supposed “future” Sofia, or “Sof” as she insisted on being called to differentiate the two, she couldn’t help but think how opposite they were to her beloved sister.

Where Sofia was kind and always smiling, this person adorned a hardened look and seemed to scrutinize everyone she came into contact with. Where Sofia was beautifully and enviously feminine, this person was rough around the edges and too visibly masculine to be a princess of any kind, let alone Sofia.

Still, the royal sorcerer, although undeserving of his title, was trusting of her, and so Amber tried to follow suit.

That sorcerer—whatever his name was—managed to convince their father of this strange person’s innocence. Amber still wasn’t sure how he managed to do so, but regardless, she was now being forced into a “meeting” of sorts with them.

Amber didn’t want to go. She knew it would make her family proud if she could at least try, but her guard was so high up that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to see past its giant wall.

She had begged her father, at first, to at least consider that this person may not be telling the truth. He understood her point, but also believed that nothing good would come of starting drama with them. If they were truly evil, then they could deal with them when necessary.

And so Amber would try for her family.

However, just like her first meeting with her dear sister, Amber couldn’t hold back her animosity for long.

They were out at a tea party in one of their garden’s many gazebos—at the insistence of their mother saying they needed a “calming atmosphere”—when it happened.

Amber had so graciously uncrossed her arm’s to pour tea—also at their mothers insistence—and this “future” Sof didn’t even have the decency to thank her like a true princess!

She merely took the cup from Amber’s hand with their own gloved one and grunted before taking a sip.

Slamming town the teapot, Amber shouted, “Are you kidding me?” Fuming, her hands balled into fists and shook while she glared down her supposed “sister from another time”.

They simply sat their cup back on the table and looked up tiredly.

Their mom, on the other hand, had a different approach. With a stern tone, she lectured, “Amber, please be kind. We’re just trying to get to know Sof, here! She’s done nothing to upset us, so please, treat her better.” Her eyebrows furrowed as she waited for some kind of response from the child.

Amber crossed her arms again in frustration. “I don’t understand how this—“ she gestured up and down the supposed time traveler “—could possibly be Sofia! I mean, they’re rude, short, gruff, and impossibly un-princess-like. You can’t seriously believe her, can you, mother?” The words seemed to come out bitter and venomous, a direct attack on Sof’s integrity.

Miranda continued with the furrowed brows, face turning into one of disappointment quickly.

Amber looked over to her actual sister for backup, but she just nodded side to side in disagreement.

“Amber, please! I think she’s princess enough! After all, being princess like has more to do with how you act versus how you look!” Sofia’s hand rested gently on top of Amber’s own.

Sof, keeping to themself until now, finally spoke up. “Listen,” she started, “I know I don’t seem too much like a princess right now. A lot has happened to me lately, and I’m more tired than you could possibly imagine.” Her eyes moved up from their cup to meet Amber’s own. “You don’t have to believe me yet. I haven’t done much to gain your trust.”

Sofia tried interjecting, but Sof held up their hand to stop her.

“No, no, it’s true. I have barely been here a day. You guys don’t have much reason to trust me, let alone believe my crazy story. All I ask is that you give me a chance. I’m sure this whole situation will all become clearer with time.” The ends of her lips tilted into a half smile.

It was the first time Amber saw her have a face so close to being happy, and she could finally see her sister in that small grin. Her temper cooled a bit.

The request was a simple one. It wasn’t an ask for blind faith like it seemed her family shared, nor was it an ask of any big emotional importance. It was simply a request to see where things lead. And Amber thought she could do that.

“Okay, yeah. That seems only fair. For now.” Sofia squeezed her hand in reassurance, and Amber responded with a tight smile, squaring her shoulders as she spoke.

She wasn’t anywhere close to believing in this stranger, but it could be interesting to see where this all leads.

Amber takes it all back. She knew she couldn’t trust this person.

She was minding her own business, looking for a good spot in the castle to set up her telescope, when she came across “Sof” sneaking around. They were clearly checking their surroundings as they slinked around, head turning side to side as she did so.

Amber wouldn’t let this opportunity to find out her true nature pass!

And so the princess followed this stranger around the castle, all the way to the entrance. Along the way they had grabbed their cloak, which helped hide their face from unassuming passersby.

Amber watched her open the castle door and stride through with a confident posture, and then followed her all the way to the bottom of the hill where said castle resided.

Once they were out of earshot of the castle, when Amber had assumed she had done a good enough job hiding from their watchful gaze, the stranger turned around and pulled down their hood.

“I know you’re there. I won’t hurt you.” Once again her face was mostly blank, the scar under their cheek and eye bags being the most notable features.

Amber tensed, wondering how they were so good… but still, she had been caught, and figured she’d look worse if she stayed hidden. So she revealed herself.

Her voice came out tense and quick. “What are you doing? Are you even allowed to leave the castle?” Her balled fists were quaking a bit at her side, not that she would ever admit that. She wasn’t sure if the stranger would attack outright, but she wasn’t taking any chances, that’s for sure. She prepared to run at any second.

“Sof” didn’t seem at all bothered, though—more curious than anything. They spoke again, “I got special permission.” She averted their eyes for a moment, seemingly considering something. The woven basket in her left hand bobbed a bit when she turned to the princess. “Would you like to come with me? I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh! Uhm… sure, I guess?” Amber didn’t mean for her response to come out so unsure, but she honestly wasn’t expecting an invitation to join this person, answering mostly in a flustered haze  

“Sof” turned their back to her once again and continued walking. Amber trailed close behind, watching every sudden movement she made.

Eventually they made their way into the village, kids playing and stores bustling with activity. Despite it being busier than Amber had seen it before (not that she saw it often enough to know what the normal was), there was still plenty of room to wiggle around the crowd with ease.

They came to a small flower shop, operating out of a cart. The princess thought it was quite quaint, but the one she had been tailing didn’t seem to mind. She pulled a few coins out of her pocket and paid for a few, simple sunflowers, sticking them in her basket, and they began walking again.

Along the way, Amber couldn’t help but take note of how kind and courteous “Sof” was to others, even if they were lower than them. For example, they treated the shopkeep with just as much reverence as she had the king, which wasn’t much, but more than a mere peasant would be used to, surely.

This time “Sof” lead them away from both the village and the castle. Amber was concerned that she was finally going to make her move—until she noticed the graveyard they had brought them to.

“Sof” didn’t even hesitate, just waltzed right in, as if she had been here a million times before.

And Amber had to guess she had once they walked up to one gravestone all the way in the back, shaded by a large tree, and a bench nearby.

“What are we doing in a creepy place like this?” She complained as she disgustedly swatted gnats from around her hair. Her precious hair, for Peet’s sake!

But Sof didn’t answer at first, taking the time to place the flowers in front of the stone. They gently brushed some dirt off the top before answering Amber’s question.

“It’s my dad, Birk.”

And, oh wow, if that didn’t make Amber feel bad. Her arms drew in a bit, uncomfortably beginning to shift from foot to foot.

Sof turned around and walked to the bench not far from the stone. As she sat, she gestured for Amber to sit with them.

Her arms folded in her lap and her hands tangled as their voice returned to fill the silence once more. “I was three when he died. I don’t remember him too well—I mainly remember the fun times we had as a family.”

And, if she was being so honest, Amber could relate. She, too, knew what it was like to lose a parent as a young child. Granted, she never got the luxury of being able to hold memories of her birth mother.

“He died a hero,” Sof spoke once again, pulling Amber from her thoughts, “on a ship. He was a naval captain. He saved the safety rafts for everyone else on board, and he went down with the ship. I remember crying a lot, but it doesn’t bother me as much anymore. I know he’s still looking after me.”

Sof turned to Amber and met her eyes for the first time since they got to the graveyard, and she smiled something vaguely reassuring. It was as if she was silently saying, “I know what you’ve gone through.”

And Amber couldn’t answer, eyes welled up with tears, so she just looked away and scrubbed at them.

Honestly, why was she getting so worked up over something so small?

Sof didn’t seem to mind, however, and allowed her to have her moment.

Now this was the sister Amber knew. This was the kind, gentle soul she had come to cherish in her life, even despite the rough and scarred exterior  

As reluctant as she was, she guessed she couldn’t help but trust them more than before. She still needed time to adjust and get to know her, but she trusted she was at least telling the truth about where she came from.

Chapter Text

The picnic was finally over. 

Miranda wasn’t sure what to expect from a royal picnic as opposed to a regular one, but it’s safe to say that she was exhausted. 

The kids had a hard time getting along, and even the adults needed some coddling. She was very ready to be back at the castle, dealing with where to put the new painting instead. 

It seemed as though another problem had fallen into her lap, however, when Sof specially requested that she and her mother take a separate carriage back to the castle so they could discuss something important. 

Roland was hesitant at first, but after much reassuring from Miranda, he gave in and allowed it. As their carriages arrived, Miranda and Sof bid the rest of their family adieu temporarily and began their trek back to the castle. 

The first moments were painstakingly awkward, neither making the first move for minutes. Finally, when Miranda began to sweat, Sof spoke up. 

Meeting her eyes, they spoke, “Listen, I know I’m not the most trustworthy as of yet. I have faith that will come with time.”

Her mother tried protesting, about to rant about how she could just feel that Sof was her real daughter, but they held their hand up in pause. 

“That being said,” their hand fell back into her lap as she made eye contact once again, “I do have a request to ask of you. As I’m sure you’ve been able to tell, the future hasn’t exactly been kind. The past few years have been the hardest of my life…”

Miranda reached across the small carriage space and grabbed her daughters hand. Their eyes didn’t break contact. 

Gulping down an almost visual lump in their throat, he continued, “I would like to ask you to make sure Sofia isn’t doing too much. She… I had a tendency to take on too much for my age. I did and saw things no child should have to. And at the time I thought that made me strong, but with age, I’ve realized how wrong I was.” Her eyes shift to look past Miranda. “Seeing how young I was in Sofia has made me realize how taken-advantage-of I was. If possible, I would like for this version of me to avoid my fate. I know you’re busy as Queen, but please…”

Sighing, Miranda reached out her other hand as well, grabbing up Sof’s own gloves ones in her own. “I think…” 

Sof’s gaze moved to meet her own once again.

“That you’re a very brave, and very courageous person. And that you’ve been hurt. But that you’re a good person regardless.”

Her daughter flushed a bit. 

Miranda moved back to her own side of the carriage and folded her hands neatly in her lap—something she’s had to get used to in her time serving next to Roland. “I may be queen, but I’m a mother first. My priority will always be my children—including you.”

Sof’s eyes welled up the smallest of bits, but were quickly and quietly quelled. They blinked a few times before answering. “Alright… then that settles it. Thank you… mother.” 

Their eyes met once again, one corner of Sof’s mouth quirking up a bit (just like her father’s would), but Miranda couldn’t help feeling uneasy. 

Sofia, at least in her time, never called her “mother”. It was either “mom” or “mama,” the latter being learned from her time as princess. It felt sort of detached, furthering the distance Miranda already felt with her now eldest child. 

It made her heart ache a bit. However, seeing as their carriage ride was nearing its end, she wouldn’t have too much time to dwell on it. 

The carriage pulled up to the castle and Baileywick helped organize their butlers and the like to deal with their belongings. Roland came to escort Miranda off of the carriage, his outstretched hand curling around her own almost defensively, although she wasn’t quite sure why. 

Sof climbed out on their own right behind her. Finally Miranda could get a sense of what was bothering her husband. 

As soon as his eyes laid upon their supposed eldest, his gaze sharpened into a dangerous glare. 

She figured her husband was just being paranoid again. He was always so worried about someone revealing certain “secrets” to the public, though none that Miranda herself was privy to. Anytime she would ask, he would brush her off and tell her that it was nothing serious. As she was trusting of her beloved, she believed him and tried not to be pushy. 

She rubbed his shoulder a bit in a soothing manner. That seemed to deescalate things somewhat—until Sof returned his gaze. 

When they looked at him, her eyes seemed to go blank as the corners narrowed and her lips turned down. 

Still, as polite as it seemed she could muster, they attempted to speak. “Your highness. I hope I didn’t keep the Queen away for anything of too great importance.”

Miranda didn’t miss the way Roland’s gaze one again turned to knives, and Sof’s hand landed to rest on the blade of their dagger. 

The air was tense only for a few seconds. She found it a bit hard to breathe, shooting worried looks between the two of them. 

“You’re back!” The youngest child seemed to burst into the scene, just as energetic as always, startling the married couple. 

Sof just stared just as stoically as ever. Once Sofia had joined their little group, Sof moved a bit more in between Roland and their younger counterpart. 

Seemingly without noticing Sof’s small movements, Sofia continued, “Mom, could I take them with me to the tailor? Amber and I wanted to help her get an outfit ready for the party this weekend!” 

Both of her children looked up at her—as did Roland’s judgmental glare—and she looked to Sof to gauge their reaction, making sure they’d be okay with it. Finally, she nodded. “Just make sure you guys are done before dinner! We’re having a big one tonight!”

Sofia giggled a bit as she dragged Sof off, Amber joining in along the way. Miranda was glad they were getting along, despite the circumstances. Amber was hesitant at first, but it seems like they’re growing closer now. 

“I wish you hadn’t done that.”

She knew Roland was hesitant about Sof, but she really thought he was willing to give her a shot. Miranda was trying to be understanding, but she didn’t understand what secrets would be so important that he couldn’t even try to trust their future child. 

Dinner that night was tense. The children tried to make small talk, but Roland’s glares across the table aimed at a certain time traveler didn’t go unnoticed, and their conversations died just as fast as they started. 

The kids enjoyed the large and filling meal regardless, but Sof seemed to eat everything but the meat, picking at it and moving it around her plate. Roland eyed them warily. 

After a few more hours of daily duties, the couple was finally winding down for bed. She had tried to wait to bring up the days events until they were alone, and by now she was practically vibrating with anticipation. 

Miranda sat on their bed, wringing her hands together nervously, as her husband blew out all but one bedside candle. 

“… honey?” She tried to get his attention. 

His neck almost snapped with the force at which he turned towards her. He was obviously on edge. 

She placed her hand on his shoulder as she had done earlier in the day. “Roland, I know it’s hard to trust her right now, but you’ll never know anything about Sof if you don’t let yourself. Don’t you want to get close to her?”

He huffed. “I’m not sure it’s worth the risk. What if she betrays us? We’ve already let them into the castle. What happens if she hurts someone? We will be the ones to blame, Miranda.” By now his hand is covering her own, and it was a bit clammy with nerves. It tightened around her own fingers and his knuckles started to go white. 

She simply chuckled a bit as she responded, “Rollie, we both know that Sofia wouldn’t hurt someone unless she had a really good reason, and even then, I’m not sure she could!” 

Roland looked back as if she were missing something. “Miranda, I know you want to believe that, but… I saw her the other day. She was practicing with the guards.” His eyes unfocused as he told his story, visibly lost in thought. “Honey, I’ve never seen our Sofia like that before. She was rough and fast and brutal. She took down six guards in one match! I couldn’t believe they were the same person as our little Sofia.”

“Maybe she’s a bit different, but I still think that this Sofia is our daughter. Everybody changes. What’s important as parents is that we love them through the changes.” 

Her husband seemed to bite his tongue, grunting in response. “I suppose so…”

It wasn’t a win for Miranda, but it was progress. They could work on it with time. 

That night, Miranda dreamed of a teenage Sofia, asking her for her trust. She wasn’t sure if she could give it anymore. Roland was angry, the twins being shooed out of the room. 

Sofia was trying to explain something, but Miranda couldn’t understand. Cedric tried bursting through the doors. Baileywick kept him out. Sofia was crying. 

Roland sentenced her to the dungeons, and for some reason Miranda let him. Sofia’s face looked wrecked, betrayed in such a way that she could practically see the thread of their relationship snapping. 

Chapter Text

Despite her protests, the King and Queen Mirands gave into their kids’ demands to throw a royal ball in honor of Sof’s arrival. When presented with the idea, Sof’s face scrunched up in seeming distaste. They seemed to catch themself quickly, however, and thanked Baileywick for relaying the news. 

He wasn’t sure what to make of them for a while. Of course she was Sofia, he could see that in the way she gently helped various creatures around the castle and seemed to have a deep appreciation for the people helping her. Any time a maid or other castle staff did something of use around them, even if it was very basic for their given job, Sof made it a point to stop and personally thank them—sometimes even engaging in genuine conversation with them, which wasn’t seen very often from the royal family. The last time Baileywick had seen such blatant thankfulness from them was from Tilly, and that had been when she still lived in the castle, and before she began to retract into herself. 

Then again, this person seemed so far removed from the Sofia he was familiar with. They were monotone most of the time, and seemed to have “quiet anger” as their default emotion, if her facial expression was anything to go by. Not to mention how she wasn’t exactly the picture of a princess. 

His Sofia wasn’t yet either, but she was at least on track to fill that role eventually. Sof was masculine, which wasn’t bad in itself—it’s just something that was traditionally discouraged for princesses. His Sofia had challenged the norm on that front, sure, but Sof seemed to be the visual representation of this challenge. She wore baggy clothes and seemed more interested in honing her fighting skills than she was in tiara fittings. Their hand seemed to twitch towards the dagger they kept on their side whenever startled or affronted, ready for a fight at any moment. 

She was also unusually aggressive. Baileywick could tell that she tried to repress it more around castle staff and other civilians, but it came out in full force when she was with the King. The air around those two when in the same room was impossible to breathe. The pure tension seemed to choke anything you could want to say back down inside you. 

Still, this was Sofia. When he had first laid eyes on them, he instantly knew that it was her. Her curly brown hair and soft features (while unconscious) told him that much. And when he had seen the giant gash spreading across from her shoulder to her hip, he knew he had to help her. And he was glad that she was here now, able to heal from whatever had caused the wound in the first place. He had done a good job at hiding the injury from the younger Sofia, but it was still a bit traumatizing to witness himself. 

Not to mention the dangerous looking burn that spread from their hand to their shoulder. It seemed a few weeks old by the time Sof arrived, but it obviously hadn’t been taken care of properly. The steward had no idea what kind of damage would be required to make such an ugly thing, but he wasn’t exactly eager to imagine. 

While on that topic, the man couldn’t help but wonder what kind of outfit she would wear to the ball later the next day? Surely most manner of dress would reveal these scars, and while Baileywick didn’t mind too much–especially since the scar under her eye would only be possible to hide if she chose to wear makeup, which didn’t seem in character–he knew it would cause a stir amongst other royals, and he was nervous about having to clean up whatever mess could come of it. Plus he wanted to save Sof from any gossip that could arise, granted that there was guaranteed to be a significant amount already with announcing their presence. 

As usual, Baileywick was the one responsible for keeping the royal family safe and secure, and that includes in terms of their social status. Still, he didn’t want to embarrass Sof or make her feel bad if it wasn’t necessary, so he would try and broach the problem gently. 

As it turns out, he didn’t even have to. 

He was attending Sof’s dress fitting with Sofia and Amber, and the first option for them–that had been worked on tirelessly over the next night after news of the ball was delivered–was an off-the-shoulder gown. It was Sofia’s signature purple and pink, with an elaborate design splitting the gown down the middle. 

Sof’s face was twisted into an uncomfortable grimace, and she walked with a certain tightness she hadn’t before. 

Still, the elephant in the room needed to be addressed–he wanted to save Sof from any embarrassment that could come from other royalty reacting to her burn. And Amber did exactly that. 

“Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed loudly when her now-older sister stepped out of the changing room. Her hands folded over her mouth and clasped one another in shock. 

Baileywick had seen their burn scar previously, but he still couldn’t hold back his own slightly twisted expression. 

Sofia looked shocked for all of two seconds before her face became carefully gentle—almost as if she had trained herself to do so. 

Sof raised an eyebrow at Amber, and her face flushed with belated embarrassment. “I-uh, I mean…” She fumbled for a second before Sofia came to the rescue. 

“Maybe a more covering option would be better? It probably isn’t comfortable having something so different to what you’re used to! Especially with how many people will be at the ball.” Sofia’s face was one of pure kindness, but Baileywick could see the bead of sweat forming at her forehead at seeing herself so damaged. 

Sof poked and prodded her gown. “Yeah, I’m not sure why they thought a gown would be best.” 

The dressmaker walked in then, gasping in offense. “How dare you insult my dress! I’ll have you know-“

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that, Madame Collette.” Sof kept their usual calm, stoic demeanor. “I just meant that I’m not usually the type to wear things like this. It’s a beautiful gown, but maybe the queen would enjoy it more?” 

Madame seemed to consider this for a second, warily eyeing the scar they all seemed to be glued to, and then she voiced her agreement. “But what should you wear instead, Princess?”

Sof grimaced at the title. “Just… just Sof is alright, Madame Collette. And I’ll put together my own outfit for tonight.”

“But, princess, it’s in less than a day! How will you find the time to make such a garment?” Baileywick finally voiced his own concerns. 

She cringed at the title once again and walked back into the dressing room as she responded, “Don’t worry, I have my ways. Besides, this way nobody will have to see my scar.”

The four looked a bit sheepish at that. Sure they wanted to make sure she was aware of how obvious it was, but they didn’t want to be crass. 

Collette hurried out of the room soon after, and Sof rejoined the remaining few in their regular clothes. 

From there they went their separate ways, but Baileywick was still concerned at Sof’s lack of attire for such a formal event. And so he decided to pay them a visit after confirming the details for the evening’s event. 

He made his way across the castle to their guest corridors, and quickly found which room they had been staying in—the sounds of magic being cast was one he was quite used to hearing from Cedric’s workshop. 

He hoped dearly that Cedric wasn’t in charge of their outfit…

As he opened the door–waiting a moment after he knocked–Baileywick could see that, while Cedric was indeed in attendance, Sof was the one casting the spells. 

“Ah-ha!” A small and rare smile graced her features as she admired herself in the mirror. They had conjured up a dark purple suit with boots not dissimilar to their regular outfit of choice, with a white shirt and collar as the base. 

Despite the impressive look, Cedric wasn’t impressed. “Are you sure ? I just don’t think-”

“I think it looks great, Sof!” The steward but in, complimenting Sof in the hopes that she won’t take Cedric’s… questionable fashion advice. 

The two seemingly hadn’t noticed his presence prior to his intrusive comment, if their reaction was anything to go by. Where Sof had been comfortably relaxed admiring her outfit and Cedric had his head leaning on his hand boredly, they both stiffened immediately, and Sof’s hand seemed to naturally gravitate to where her dagger normally sat on her hip. Her eyes narrowed dangerously before she fully realized who it was. 

When she did, her posture only eased a bit, and she stood a bit taller. Their shoulders rolled back, but their hand didn’t leave their hip. “Ah, Baileywick. Does this seem appropriate enough for the ball? If I’m entirely honest,” her hand finally left her hip only to come up and scratch the back of her neck sheepishly (which was an expression he hadn’t expected of them), “it’s been quite a while since I last attended an event like this. I’m a bit nervous…” 

Baileywick smiled. “Don’t worry, princess, I’m sure you’ll do fine. And, even if you don’t, you can ask me for help,” he winked. 

Sof sent back a grateful smile. “With you and Cedric by my side, I know I’ll be fine. Thank you, Baileywick.” They strolled over to the vanity and grabbed a ribbon, seemingly the same one they normally used on their hair, and tied up the curls in a high ponytail. Once finished, they turned back to the sorcerer. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” It was said in her usual monotone voice, and yet it sounded more teasing than chastising. 

Cedric seemed only slightly offended at the comment, but his attention was soon stolen by his pocket watch. “Merlin’s beard! I’m going to be late!” 

Baileywick couldn’t think of any meetings Cedric should have had going on, but regardless, he rushed out of the room. 

When he turned back to Sof, they spoke again. “Did you need something from me? Don’t you have a certain royal family to check on?” Once again, her sentence seemed to be more playful than admonishing. 

He chuckled out, “Sof, you are a part of that royal family, and I came here to check on you .” 

“Oh… right.” Their eyes widened in surprise before carefully being replaced with a stern look. 

That’s similar to how Sofia, earlier, had…

She cleared her throat. “Well, as you can see, I’m ready. I’m going to go ahead and start there now so I can greet guests that arrive early.” She gathered a few more things–her amulet being placed in her coat’s inner pocket–and passed him on her way out. “Thank you, Baileywick. For everything you do.” Their hand landed on his shoulder as they spoke. After a brief pause, during which he noted her first truly genuine reaction he’s seen, she continues on her way. 

It was getting late in the night, and the steward could tell that the partygoers were wanting to wrap things up. Sof had met pretty much every important noble in the EverRealm at this point and didn’t seem to be doing too hot. They seemed to naturally fit into the role almost immediately, which Baileywick attributed to the years they likely spent in noble environments. However, as the night went on, they seemed to deflate their posture. Their face remained cheery but every other part of their body language was screaming: help me . 

He began rounding up the guests and helping the other staff escort them outside where the final event of the night was to take place. Overall, this ball had been relatively small–as small as a royal ball could be–and this was just one final touch to hopefully make this night not wholly boring for their guests. 

Sof was among the last for him to round up, and she followed with a polite nod and a tired (if forced) smile. Once outside, she took her place beside her parents, the children unintentionally lining up in order of age. 

The last event had been one that he hadn’t felt a need to mention to Sof prior to then, especially since he felt it could be a moment of brevity for them. But then the first firework went off, and the moment it made the boom they had so carefully planned, Sof’s entire demeanor changed. 

Baileywick was first aware of this change when she violently flinched at the noise, her head ducking down and her hands coming up to grip at her hair. 

The King also took note, leaning around Queen Miranda to peer over at her. The kids were lost in the moment. Their friends had come up and dragged them away shortly after the first firework went off. As for Miranda herself, she was saying something to Sof, presumably asking if she was alright, but it was too loud to hear her over the next boom . 

Sof turns away violently, half throwing their body to the side, and stumbles for a moment before running off. Cedric was hot on her heels. 

Baileywick leaned in close to the King and reassured, “I’ll go find her, your highness, you guys just enjoy the party!” He had to shout to be heard, but the King nodded and he was off after the sorcerer and princess duo. 

It took only a minute to find them. The first empty hallway he entered was far away enough that the noise was muffled somewhat, and it held them both. It seemed as though Sof had collapsed on their knees, hands clutching their chest as they wheezed. Cedric was attempting to help, but it consisted of a lot of “uhm” and “ooh” with his hands awkwardly shuffling and hovering over their hunched body. 

He walked up carefully, intentionally creating noise with his steps as he did so with the hope that he wouldn’t startle either of them. Cedric looked back helplessly. Baileywick knelt in front of Sof, Cedric to her left. 

“Sofia… can you hear me?” He knew they were going by their nickname for now, but he figured the use of their full name may help with grounding. 

Their eyes were wildly fluttering around. Their chest heaved with every breath. Sweat gathered at her brow and fell heavily onto the linoleum below them. 

This was a lot worse than he thought . 

“Sofia, I’m going to breathe now. Please try and follow when you can. I’m going to touch you to help.” He gingerly took her hand, it flinching at first but going lax soon after, and placed it on his own chest. He breathed in and out exaggeratedly, counting four, seven, eight, four, seven, eight as he did so. 

Cedric looked confused but didn’t have any better ideas. He relented to watching Baileywick’s trick to help Sof. 

Eventually, after a few minutes of breathing, Sof had joined and was able to inhale shaky breaths on her own. Eyes still fogged over, her eyes flitted between the two men at her side. 

When she spoke, it came out raspy and forced. “He… they were just kids…” 

Cedric and Baileywick shared a look. 

“ They were children… and he… oh god- ” They were cut off by a rattling sob. Their hands flew back up to their hair as they practically fell into Cedric’s side. Their head came to land sideways on his shoulder as they had a full breakdown. 

Baileywick tried a few more times to see if she was aware of her surroundings, but to little avail. She kept rambling about a bomb, and how they “lost so many.” Her eyes remained glazed over for a good while and her entire body trembled. 

After what seemed like forever–the party having long died out and the two men shifting to more comfortable positions (he was definitely going to tease the sorcerer about this newfound soft side of his when all is said and done)–Sof’s eyes seemed to focus in on him. 

Still raspy, they speak again, this time more coherently. “Baileywick? What’s happening?”

He returned her question with a smile. “We’re in the corridors, princess. The party was dealt with, don’t worry.”

“The– The party !” She tries to shoot up, but quickly grips her head and groans in pain. The crying had obviously done its damage. 

Cedric pipes in, “It’s alright, Sofia. You just rest. You have no need to worry about that right now.”

It was rare for Baileywick to see the royal sorcerer so concerned. In fact, he had only ever seen him get this way on rare occasions that concerned her younger counterpart. It was kind of nice to see this side of him. It definitely gave the steward a deeper respect for the man he previously didn’t think much of. 

Cedric definitely seemed apprehensive and nervous about doing the wrong thing, but the good intention was there. 

Sof relaxed back into his side, their head resting on his shoulder once more. The look on their face was far beyond haunted, and their trembles hadn’t yet subsided. 

“Do you need assistance getting back to your room, princess?” If there was one thing Baileywick knew he could do, it was help the royal family. 

Cedric answered for her. “No, you go on ahead and see if the King needs your help. I shall escort the princess back to her quarters.” His chest puffed out with attempted authority–not that it worked–as he spoke. 

Normally Baileywick wouldn’t trust this man as far as he could throw him, but the look on his face mixed with Sof’s visible comfort with him made him go against his better judgment. “Alright–but I’m coming to check on you the moment I’m done, alright Sof?” He gave her arm a comforting squeeze. 

They nodded weakly, and Cedric helped them up to their feet. He held onto their arm as he escorted her back through the castle.

Chapter Text

“Hmm… seems like you’re missing a newt’s eye.” Sof said in their usual, monotone voice. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as they moved to where Cedric kept said ingredient, not needing any direction.

And it irked him.  

Ever since Sof arrived, he had been doing things that Cedric hated. She would talk over him, correct him on difficult spells, and generally tread unwelcomed in his space. She had unabashedly inserted themself into his life, and he was expected to just put up with it. 

Since Cedric was the Royal sorcerer and all, King Roland had assigned him to the task of figuring out how and why Sof had traveled to the past. He knew it took a big sacrifice to warp space time like this, but he had yet to get a lead on what said sacrifice was. 

Sof had revealed the “why” pretty early on, however. 

A few days into her joining their timeline, after she had spent some time introducing herself to the castle staff and some time getting Cedric himself acclimated to them, they finally explained. 

It had been late—he was just too focused on his newest spell that would be sure to get him that damn amulet, if he could just figure out what was missing from it—when Sof had barged in. The only warning of their entrance had been two soft taps on the door before they exploded in. 

Once they entered, they locked the hard wood behind him, and Cedric grew both worried and annoyed. 

She turned around looking like a man on a mission, face hard-set and fists clenched. 

Nervous, Cedric asked, “Is there something wrong, Princess?”

“Don’t-” He started aggressively, but after meeting the sorcerer’s face, he let out a deep breath that they had been holding in before continuing, “Please, don’t call me that. Just… Sof is fine– Sofia if you want to be formal.” She seemed to nervously shift their weight, and their arms crossed across her chest. “We need to talk.”

Not for the first time since they were unceremoniously dropped in their timeline, Cedric couldn’t help but wonder how this could be Sofia?

He seemed to be genuine enough that Cedric wasn’t too suspicious, but they carried a different air around them than the positively- blindingly –radiant, young Princess he had grown used to (and totally not fond of). Whereas their younger counterpart was overwhelmingly hopeful and always smiling, this supposedly older version of her was angry and curt. More than once Cedric had seen him being snappy with and glaring at the King, not to mention how he’s avoided his family like the plague. 

If this truly was Sofia, what had changed to make her into this scarred adult? What happened to make her so apathetic to those she was once so passionate about?

With their gaze set solely on him, he could feel sweat gathering at his brow. 

“Yes, Pri–Uh, Sof ?”

Their face flushed a bit at the casual name, but he quickly regained his composure. 

She squared her shoulders and levelled the Royal Sorcerer with intense eye contact for a few, agonizing seconds. Cedric would have been grateful for it ending and moving on from the awkwardness he was feeling, if it wasn’t for the next words out of her mouth. 

“I know you want to overthrow the King.”

His heart stopped. It felt like his veins were filled with grease, blood slowing and body becoming stiff as a board. At first he just stared at Sof with his jaw open, because seriously ? This had to be a joke, right? Sure he wasn’t the best at hiding his desires, but surely he wasn’t that bad!

After receiving just that same stare Sof always seemed to sport, he finally sputtered out, “Wha- What?! I can assure you, I am as loyal to this kingdom as-”

“Stop.” Her hand was held out in front of her to further her point. Cedric clamped his mouth shut with a gulp. “Don’t misunderstand–I’m not here to stop you. Quite the contrary.” Her arms came uncrossed, hands resting on their hips, and the ghost of a smirk played on their lips. “I want to help you.”

At first Cedric tried denying what Sof was alleging, but once he realized it was futile, he grew curious. 

“Say I was planning on that… Why would I trust the princess to help me?” He attempted (in vain) to hide his soul-crushing anxiety. 

After all, if Sof were to find proof of Cedric’s intentions, they could easily report him and have him arrested with little protest. His whole life could be in the balance of this conversation–what little he had achieved over the years could all very well be for nothing, should they choose to expose him. 

They walked over to his work desk and leaned on the table next to him, back against the cool wood. “Because I hate the King as much as you do. Besides, anybody with eyes and a brain will know that the kingdom would only benefit from his removal.” 

As he spoke, Sof’s eyes turned dark, something deeper than anger- malice? –brewing in his mind. They also weren’t looking at Cedric anymore, gaze far away and eyes glossed over, as if not entirely there. 

He wondered if this situation had anything to do with their panic attack. He remembered helping Sof to her room, seeing Baileywick come to check on her before declaring them good for the night. Cedric had felt anxious before, sure, but he had never seen anything like that before. 

He was so frazzled by the whole ordeal that he almost forgot what Sof’s regular temperament was like. They were in such a bad state, and he felt helpless. He was lucky that the steward had shown up when he did. 

“Anyway,” Sof spoke once more, breaking Cedric out of his inner musings, “I’m not asking. Whether or not you agree is irrelevant–I will do what needs to be done. It would simply be easier with your cooperation.” 

While their words were rough and would’ve otherwise caused him to go back to denial of their claims, her face had been overtaken by a lopsided, comfortable smile. 

And, well… Cedric always was a people-pleaser.

He was not prepared for their newfound alliance meaning that Sof would barge into his private space and do whatever they wanted! And while he was reeling from the sudden intrusion, Sof acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

Sighing dramatically, he took the newt’s eye from his compatriot and added it to his potion. Sof was right–it was the only thing needed, and now he was able to properly grow a pumpkin three times its size as Baileywick had requested for the latest party of many hosted by the King. 

To say Cedric was peeved would be a gross understatement. How did this nobody royal who hadn’t a day of training on him seem to always know better than he did? It felt undermining of everything he's done to try and be noticed for his prowess. 

He set the potion bottle back on the desk a bit too hard, causing the other to quirk their eyebrow at him in confusion. 

“What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be helping set up or something princess ?”

Visibly upset by the use of his title, Sof replied, “I’d rather be here. Besides, we still haven’t discussed the plan fully.”

“That’s another thing–this ‘plan’ of yours! You say you wish to help me take the crown from his Royal Highness ,” Cedric put an extra, sarcastic emphasis on his mention of the King, “but who do you even plan to take his place? I’m sure you’re aware I have my own eye on the throne, but you just want it for yourself, don’t you?”

Okay, maybe he was being too harsh on them, but could you blame him? Too many things were left entirely unexplained by Sof. It was ridiculous of him to expect Cedric to trust him so early on, let alone overthrow a kingdom together!

Sof’s eyebrows furrowed more than normal. “M–Cedric… the plan was always to have you as king. In fact, I don’t think anyone else would be a better fit than you.”

Looking into her eyes, Cedric knew she was being genuine–she had the same sparkle their younger self did when he did a spell, which was a look he hadn’t seen on the teenager in his time having known her. 

“What… makes you so sure?” He asked, still a bit suspicious. 

“You’re smart,” they began with no hesitation, listing things off on their fingers, “you’re kind, you are a natural born leader. You don’t only strive for power, but for the salvation and betterment of all of Enchancia. I can go on if you’d like me to.”

Right as he was about to respond, Amber burst in (are royal-born just not taught what knocking is?!) and demanded to help Sof pick their outfit for the party. On their way out, they bashfully said, “I meant it, y’know. I couldn’t think of a better fit.”

Wow, no  pressure.

Chapter Text

James couldn’t understand Sof. At first, he had been happy to meet the older teen! She seemed cool and strong, and he had been eyeing them during their training with the castle guards. He had hoped that they would get along, maybe even by using sword fighting and knighthood as his gateway!

And yet, when he had excitedly asked Sof about how she was knighted and why her interests shifted away from sorcery (he secretly hoped he was having a positive influence on his little sister, and that Sof would reassure him of such), she seemed tense and gave non-answers. It was evident from their time training that it wasn’t because of any shortcoming in their skills, seeing as how she was able to beat most everyone on their staff with little fight, but for some other reason. 

James could see the way their body seemed to move like water as they glided around the training grounds, mowing down anyone who dares to stand in their path. And yet, at the same time, she would take the time afterwards to inform the unfortunate guards sparring against her where they could improve, as well as detailed instructions on how to achieve that improvement. It wasn’t necessarily regulation the way she was teaching them to fight, but it definitely made them more formidable opponents. Not only did it help all of the guards warm up to him really fast, it also showed that he was an experienced fighter and skilled in leadership. Almost like that of a king—If he looked really hard, he was sure he would see an invisible crown atop their head. 

And then there was the issue of Sof making any excuse to leave whenever James was around. 

Sofia had said that there was no way that they were leaving because of James’s presence—after all, Sof was her, and she loves her brother! 

But it didn’t stop his brain from speculating. He was desperate to prove himself wrong—to prove that he hadn’t failed as an older brother, after all. He generally tried to play off his insecurities (especially about becoming future king) by acting childish and immature—a poor attempt at coping, but it kept people from asking probing questions. It kept him from ever having to face the very real responsibility in his near future (and possibly his present as well, if Sof’s visible discomfort around him was anything to go by). He knew he would never be as talented as Sofia or as worldly as Amber, and he used that to his advantage. 

But Sof threatened all of that. Being from the future, surely she knew whether or not he was an adequate enough king—whether he would make his family proud and live up to expectations. But they acted like they hated James, and it was gnawing at his brain. 

So, when Zander brought up rumors of a slightly less than legal fighting tournament happening in Dunwittie, he came up with a plan. 

He was going to bring it to Sof, and he was obviously going to be super excited about it, and then Sof would thank him and they would be on their way to being as close as him and Sofia were! Maybe Sof would even be willing to help him train to become a knight someday…

Finding a poster for the event wasn’t as easy as he thought it was going to be, but considering it was an illegal tournament without permits, he supposed that was to be expected. Then all he had to do was find Sof. 

It wasn’t hard to find her, as she tended to hang around any and all castle staff. They seemed to have either no regard or very little regard—as Amber had put it one night when they were discussing the elder’s sudden appearance over dinner—for status, and freely socialized with whoever they saw fit. It was a nice change of pace. James had grown tired of constantly being told who he could or could not be friends with. 

Sof was currently idling beside one of their many maids—he thinks her name was Marina? Mary?—and helping her carry a few baskets down the stairs to the main hall. He ran up to the pair, practically vibrating in excitement. 

“Sof, Sof—look what I found!” He eagerly holds the paper out in front of him, trying to hold it to their eyesight but falling a few inches short. 

He startled for a moment, his eyes momentarily blazing over ever-so-slightly, but he caught himself quickly. ”A… fighting contest?” Her gloved hand softly took the paper out of James’s grasp and held it closer so she could get a better look. 

“Shhh!” James hurriedly hushed out, pointedly looking at the maid. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, “I’ll just be… down here!” 

“Thank you, Mac.” Sof replied after the maid. 

She walked away with a wink in James’s direction, taking Sof’s basket and stacking it on top of her own, seemingly headed for the laundry room. 

James spoke up again, “I know it’s against my father’s rules, but it could be really fun!” He hoped his beaming smile and warm attitude would bewitch her into agreeing. 

They looked him up and down, gaze harshly considering. Finally, after a few seconds, they spoke, “That sounds fine… are Amber and Sofia coming along, as well?”

The plan was to go just the two of them, but with the way Sof was eyeing him suspiciously, he didn’t want to test his luck. “… Yes- Yes they are! In fact, the both of them are really looking forward to it!” He puffed out his chest in faux pride. 

Their shoulders loosened. “Well, I guess it’s alright then… but you have to promise to stay near me when we’re in Dunwittie! And you can’t go as the prince.”

“What?! Why not?”

They tried to smile, but it fell short quite a bit of being genuine. “Because,” Sof explained, “too many people would recognize you. You wouldn’t be able to focus on the tournament with a horde surrounding you!” 

Something in her voice gave away the genuine anxiety she felt, and James felt like she wasn’t telling him everything. Still, they agreed to go, so he wouldn’t pry for now. 

He mentally added get Sofia and Amber to come to his mental to-do list and skipped away happily, excited to finally be making headway with Sof. 

The few days before the tournament were largely uneventful—Cedric found him and Sof working the way they always would. He would get lost in one book or another and they’d venture off to go hang out with some more servants. 

The day before, however, he and Sof had an interesting discussion. 

It started when Sof came in, visibly exhausted. She slumped down in her chair in tandem with the door slamming shut behind her. 

Cedric swiveled around in his own seat. “What’s got you all huffy, miss princess?”

He crossed his arms and huffed. “I told you not to call me that.“ He averted his eyes. “And it’s just…”

Cedric had assumed she would pause and not actually open up to him, especially since his comment was entirely facetious and not meant to be taken genuinely. 

Instead, she continued, “James asked me to go to this illegal fighting tournament.” Her face was bashful as she lightly scratched her cheek. 

Cedric’s head spun a bit. “The prince… asked you to break the law?”

They nodded. 

“Well, you obviously told him no! After all, you have enough things on your plate, babysitting,” he spat, “is hardly your priority.”

He saw sweat collecting on their brow. 

“… you did say no, right Sofia?”

“I know it’s not the brightest idea right now, considering everything else we’ve got going on, but it would’ve looked suspicious if I said no!” They leaned back with a false confidence easily slipping on with a sly grin. “Besides, I could use this time to rally the locals! All the more subjects loyal to our future king!”

Aw bullocks, she knew his weakness—praise. 

He preened under the attention as he said, “Hmph… I suppose if you’re sure about it being a worthy cause…”

She smiled back at him, genuine in a way she isn’t around anyone else in the castle. “Thank you for trusting me, Cedric. I won't let you down.”

They unceremoniously got back to work, himself on the latest useless potion the King asked for, and she with mapping out a list of cohorts dedicated to their cause.