Young Writers Society

Aldik dropped his sword and ran to her side, sinking to his knees next to her. He gently rolled her onto her back and looked her over, concerned. “Rana, honey. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Speak to me, dear.”

Rana whimpered, forcing herself to take a breath. Suddenly the force of pain immobilizing her broke free, bringing a fresh wave of agony that stabbed through her side. A burning tingle crawled down to her hip and spread across her abdomen. She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, trying to fight back the tears that pricked her eyes.

It felt like her body was on fire. It throbbed and sent an ache down her entire right side. She wet her lips, forcing herself to stay calm. She couldn’t allow herself to succumb to the pain. She had to keep fighting it.

“Rana,” Aldik said again, gently lifting her head and shoulders in his arms.

“Not dead,” Rana panted, still clutching her side. “Yet.”

“You’re not going to die,” Aldik said dismissively. He hesitated a moment, gently placing his hand over her own as she clutched her side. “I shouldn’t have hit you that hard. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“It’s okay,” Rana said weakly. “Equality is my thing.”

Wyl scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe… I’m mostly sore.” She took a deep breath and gritted her teeth, then forced herself to sit upright. Aldik wrapped his arm around her gently and helped her up, letting her lean against him for support.

“So… can we agree to not tell your father about this?” Aldik asked.

Rana laughed, then stopped suddenly as a spasm of discomfort tore through her side. She grit her teeth. “Don’t worry. Telling my father is never a concern.”

“Yeah, usually we just have to agree about whether or not to tell you,” Jaerek said, smirking. “Guess we don’t have to worry about that this time.”

Aldik rubbed his face tiredly. Often, he stumbled across Jaerek and Rana just after they’d done something stupid they were trying to keep from him. Sometimes Wyl would be with them, if he was visiting and managed to get dragged into their schemes. But Aldik wasn’t usually part of the mischief that needed kept from their fathers.

“It’s okay,” Wyl said, patting Aldik’s back. “It doesn’t take long to get used to lying to our fathers. Mine is the only smart one of the lot, and he usually doesn’t remember that I exist. You probably won’t have to say anything at all.”

“Yeah, as long as Rana can fake it, they’ll never know.” Jaerek said.

“I’m going to try.” Rana nodded. “The corset is going to be dreadful.”

“Aren’t corsets always dreadful?” Wyl questioned.

“I imagine this will make it worse than they usually are.” Rana was silent for a moment, then looked towards Aldik. “Can I go back to my room? I would like to lie down before the dance tonight.”

“Of course,” Aldik said, standing. “Let me help you.”

Aldik’s voice was deep and commanding, even when he was being kind. It sounded like an order, and she obediently wrapped her arm around his abdomen. Rana walked slowly but deliberately, disgusted at how often she needed to rest even though Aldik assured her that it was wise to take it slow. It felt like an eternity passed before they reached her room.

Rana walked across the room and awkwardly pulled her tunic off, whimpering despite herself at the pain that shot up her side. She hated herself for not being stronger. Rana kicked her trousers off and flopped on her bed, thankful she’d put on an undershirt and some undershorts before sparring. She didn’t want to get her bed dirty with her soiled clothes.

“I want to have a look,” Aldik said, helping her get comfortable on the bed.

Rana hesitated a moment, then nodded reluctantly. She wasn’t surprised. He’d been a soldier for more years than she’d been alive and was very skilled at rehabilitating his own soldiers when they were injured. She was sure that he’d be able to help, but still didn’t want to let him see the ugly that laid below her clothes.

Father made a point of making sure that she knew how disgusting her figure was, compared to the other girls of the court. Where they were thin and graceful, she was heavy set and clumsy. She did her best to keep anyone else from realizing how badly she looked, wishing she could find a way to be thin like the other girls.

Rana pulled her tunic up, doing her best to suck her stomach towards her spine. She slowly let the stomach back out, cringing as the motion hurt her side even worse. She sighed as she looked down at her fatty abdomen, complete with rolls and stretch marks from her excess weight. She liked to keep it covered.

Aldik didn’t seem to notice. He knelt next to her bed and closely examined the ribs. The skin was already covered with an ever-growing dark splotch. He carefully touched the bruise, making her inhale sharply. He cringed and pulled his hand away.

“Well… good news is, I don’t think anything is broken.”

“That is good news,” Rana agreed, trying to be positive. She weakly attempted a smile, doing her best to ignore the pain that screamed at her subconscious. “I won’t have to fake for long.”

“You shouldn’t have to at all,” Aldik answered, pulling her tunic down again. He carefully spread a blanket across her and tucked her in with a tenderness that she didn’t know he had. He looked at her for a long moment, guilt still clouding his brow.

“It’s okay, Aldik,” Rana said, trying to take the blame. “Really. I’ll be fine.”

He bowed slightly, still unconvinced. “Rest well.”

Rana watched him leave, then lay in sweet silence for nearly an hour. She would’ve rather been in the woods practicing her swordsmanship with her friends, but she appreciated the chance to rest. She was already tired from her day in the sun, and the pain in her side was zapping the little energy she had left.

Much too soon her attendant came into the room. She regarded Rana silently for a moment, then walked to the window and opened the curtains. Light flooded into the room, blinding Rana and making her sigh. “In bed at this hour, miss?”

Rana looked at her sullenly. Her attendant was one of the few people who was actually on her side. Most of the manor’s servants would run straight to Father to tattle on her. Not Itani. They’d grown up together and were the closest thing to friends that a lord’s daughter and a servant girl were allowed to be.

“Not feeling well, miss?”

“You could say that,” Rana agreed.

“And what did you do to get yourself feeling unwell, mm?” she asked, leaning down to pluck a leaf out of Rana’s hair. She glanced at the pile of dirty clothes next to the bed. “Fall out of a tree again?”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Rana defended. If Father hadn’t caught her and started yelling, she never would’ve lost her focus; and if she hadn’t lost her focus, she wouldn’t have fallen. That sprained ankle was entirely on him, whether he’d admit it or not.

“Mm, sure it wasn’t, miss,” she answered with a smile. “Come on. Up you get!”

“Do I have to?” Rana whined. She pouted at the nod she received. “But—”

“No buts,” Itani said firmly. “You’ve a dance to get ready for.”

Rana reluctantly rolled out of bed, cringing as a spasm of pain shot through her side. She plopped down in the chair in front of her vanity and silently watched Itani in the mirror. It was strange how much could change in a few short years.

When Itani came to live with her family, she was only eight and Rana was five. They’d instantly become best friends, until Father noticed the camaraderie and began disciplining Rana for being so familiar with a servant girl. Neither of them understood why. They liked each other and that was all that mattered.

As she watched her in the mirror now, Rana realized they’d grown into complete opposites. They were still secretly friends, and Rana trusted her with more than she trusted anyone else except for maybe Jae and Wyl. But their physical differences were only accentuated as they grew.

Where Rana was short and stocky, Itani was tall and lithe. Where Rana’s skin was so pale it hurt her eyes to look at it when she was in direct sunlight, Itani’s was a rich chocolate brown. And where Rana was awkward and rushed in her movements, Itani was always poised and confident. If either of them had the grace or beauty to be a lord’s daughter, Rana thought it would be Itani.

“So, what exactly did you do, miss?” Itani questioned, as she began running a comb through the wild knot of blond atop Rana’s head.

“I was, um…” Rana hesitated. “Playing” felt like it was too juvenile a word. Fifteen was much too old to be “playing” with one’s friends. But she certainly couldn’t say what they were actually doing. “Socializing with the princes.”

“Socializing? Ah, I see,” Itani said flatly, knowing fully well that they’d been doing something they probably shouldn’t have been. “And which prince was it that rubbed your nose in the dirt for you?”

“Wyl… Uh, Prince Blaylock,” Rana corrected. “And Lord Munen…”

“Ah, so he joined in your mischief this time,” Itani said good-naturedly. “But you mean to say that you let him beat you?”

“Something like that,” Rana agreed with a smirk. They both knew fully well that Rana would never beat Aldik. He was much too fast and strong and knew so much more than she did.

“I see,” Itani said, grinning at her in the mirror. “Well, you need a bath, miss.”

“Yeah…” Rana stood up and cast a sideward glance towards the small tub in the corner of the room. She usually liked baths, but this one would be painful with her side. Still, it only took a glance at the mirror to see that Itani was right. “Very well.”

She stepped towards the tub. There was no fire going in her room to heat the water. She didn’t like cold baths, but that’s what she usually ended up getting when Itani decided she needed a bath at the last moment.

There was a soft knock at the door.