The Crown and the Throne

Chapter Six

                                            6 Months Later

I grit my teeth as I pull my boot off of my foot. I can see past the sock that it has swelled. Carefully, trying to stretch the sock open as much as possible to prevent the fabric from tearing open the blisters along my skin.

Sharp pain shoots through my leg.

I pull the cloth from the top of the ointment jar and dip two of my fingers inside of the goopy medicine. Immediate relief spreads from my foot to the rest of my body as the medicine touches the sharp blisters. The swelling begins to shrink, leaving my foot close to its normal size.

"You realize just making it go away like that doesn't help you, right?"

I do not glance at Sebastian who, as usual, after my trianing sessions, stands, arms crossed, in the doorway of my room, telling me everything I needed to work on, and fix, and adjust. Thankfully this list had shrunk over the last few months, leaving reason for Sebastian to lecture me.

"You've told me, on multiple occasions." I remove my boot and sock from my other foot. "'Ava, pain gives you strength', 'Ava, you wouldn't have this in the middle of a battlefield', Ava this, Ava that." I slather the medicine onto my skin, letting out a final relieved breath. "Not sure if you've noticed but I genuinely do not care, I'm not off fighting yet, you won't let me, so what does it matter?"

I put the cloth back over the ointment jar and wipe my hand with the rag beside me.

Sebastian lets out a quiet mutter, probably cursing my stubbornness. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he pushes himself off of the door frame and moves towards me to stand in front of me. He keeps his arms crossed in an attempt to be intimidating.

I look up. My face heats up when I realize it is level with his groin. Damn these low cots. I lift my head quickly, hoping he doesn't notice how red my cheeks are, although he could easily assume it was from spending hours training today.

"You dropped your blade again," he says, quietly.

My eyes roll.

"Yeah, I noticed." I show him the two-inch long slice on my left hand. "Believe me I felt it."

Sebastian shifts his body. "You're going to get yourself hurt. I don't understand why you still want to do this, it should've just been a phase." I watch his eyes dart around my room, never looking directly at my face, only glancing at my cut. "I thought maybe you would have realized it's not safe and you'll get hurt." The words rush through his lips as though he is afraid he would not have enough time to say them.

I sigh and put on a more broken-in pair of boots that would not tear open my blisters. I had to listen to him say this at least once every few weeks, trying to push me to stop fighting, to let everyone else fight for me. It was becoming tiring, an argument that I had to struggle through. It would come at random just as the memories from that day would, that one horrific day.

I blink a few times, trying to focus on now, instead of then. The oncoming overwhelming feeling of sadness scuttles back to its hiding place.

"I'm not stopping just because I got a splinter or a little cut."

Sebastian backs up as I stand.

I try not to grimace as a sharp pain bolts through both my arm and legs. I did not want him to know I was hurting anywhere past my feet.

"Excuse me," I say as the sound of a slamming door echoes down the hallway, "but I think there are newcomers."

An agitated look flits across his face as I step past him and into the hallway.