Alone in my room. 
Getting into my combat uniform.
It's one of those days, another boring official ceremony.
Can't see her but I know she's there, just outside my door.
No doubt about it.
Same place she was yesterday ,Tuesday and the day before.

She's about six feet tall. 
A former royal assassin.
Fearless, ruthless, dispassionate, cold-blooded.
Actually she is exactly six feet one.
With a face and a body to die for, hair almost to her waist, 
full, fiery red.
The color of the setting sun.

I'm her prince, heir apparent.
The first male in a thousand years.
To say I have problems would be an understatement.
On my second birthday, a cousin almost gutted me with a knife
In a nation of skilled, ferocious wariors, she's arguably the finest.
My mothers best friend, the only one trusted with my life.

My enemies are stupid and irrational.
They would have me killed and risk a bloody civil war.
Anything is better they're saying, than being ruled by a man.
Many have tried. 
Strangers, relatives, even a so-called best friend.
Foolish fanatics!
She's thwarted them all, time and time again.

Adjusted my helmet and stepped outside.
She quickly falls into stride, a step or two behind me.
Five minutes later we entered the complex and they saluted.
Faces to the sun, mouths wide open, as if they are about to sing.
Elite Imperial Warriors. 
One hundred thousand women, paying homage to their future king.

She scans them silently.
Weapons ready, never once leaving my side.
Expressionless, totally focused on the job.
The sound of the "hum" resonates throughout the courtyard.
You want a piece of him, come get some. 
She is, my shadow, 
my eyes, 
my ears, 
my bodyguard.

She is,
Daun..
Superwoman