A Battle of Pride and Desire

Chapter One

Brigette awoke to the sound of footsteps at her door. She cracked an eye open to see that her sister had just walked in to their bedroom. Their bedroom was a small space that often resulted in squabbles of petty nature, but it was their own. This was something they could not forget. Brigette's bed was made of wood and the mattress of hard material. She attempted to wiggle around on her side to get more comfortable, but to no avail. Brigette sighed as she eyed her sister who was walking to her own bed.

"What time is it?" Brigette moaned into the covers.

Alba turned to face her sister. Alba had a face that many would fail to describe as anything other than mesmerising. She had brown skin and dark, chocolate coloured hair. What made her features striking however was her freckles that dotted across her dark skin. While Brigette may have a few freckles here and there, Alba had them in abundance. Her eyes held a certain captivity; they demanded to be looked at. They were a hazel hue, that often turned golden in the sunlight. They were golden as she raised an eyebrow at her sister.

"It's six in the morning, Bridge," Alba said as she unwound her hair from its braid.

Alba's hair was long, unlike Brigette's. Brigette was far from ugly, however she struggled not to be envious of her older sister. Brigette had the same brown skin but her face fell short of beauty. Brigette often wondered what life would be like if she were as beautiful as her sister. As hard-working as her sister too.

"I should be getting up," Brigette yawned as she removed the covers from herself.

Today was a Saturday, so she would be going to the markets to buy her family's food for the week. This was always Brigette's job. While Alba may have had the beauty, Brigette had unwavering stubbornness that aided in her bartering of prices at the market. And with her family struggling to get by, every penny mattered. The earlier she got to the market, the better choice of meat and fresh produce she would have.

Brigette's bed creaked as she toppled out. Everything in their house was beginning to show its age. Brigette made a mental note to try fixing her bed when she got home from the market. Her family had been struggling financially for as long as she could remember. When she was just a babe, her father had died from an incurable illness that took him out slowly. Her father, being the breadwinner, took any form of income they had with him when he died.

Brigette could not remember much of her father, although sometimes if she tried hard enough, she could hear his laugh in her heart. Her mother was never the same since her father died, or at least that's what Alba had always said. But her mother was good to the girls, teaching them how to be strong without a male figure. It was her mother who taught Brigette how to defend herself against unwanted men. It was also her mother who taught her to cook and clean. Often enough it was Brigette who would do the cooking and cleaning because Alba was off trying to find a rich suitor, and her mother often resided in her bed; too depressed to do anything after she had given her daughters the necessities they needed. Brigette did not resent her mother, far from it. She had given Brigette the means to take care of herself after her father died, but sometimes she wished she didn't have to. She could not remember the last time she hugged her mother.

Brigette was left to her thoughts as she detangled her hair and braided it. She put it into a knot before she placed her shawl on top. It was rare for women to go to the market and barter, so she always felt it was better to cover up. She pulled out her one good dress; her green frock. It was long with little ruffles at the end and was a little childish if Brigette were being honest with herself. She looked in the mirror and took herself in. She looked as she always did. Plain.

"You look fine," Alba huffed as she pulled a box from under her bed.

Brigette looked at her sister through the mirror, "Are you going to sew today?"