Queen amongst Men

The deal

Comb in hand, Aristomache glowered at her own reflection. She was going to subject herself to voluntary torture today, all in the name of beauty.

Although her beauty, or in most cases, ground-breaking ugliness, is usually only witnessed by her mother, sisters and around 30 aunts who couldn't care less, today was different.

Today is the first day of spring. Much like how animals mate in spring, it's time for the annual arrangement. Not with just anyone, but with disgustingly egotistical Gargarean men who thinks they run the world.

"Honestly, Aristomache, just let me help you! I can make you all dolled up and you won't even feel a thing!" Her oldest and prettiest sister, Lydia, coaxed.

Looking up at Lydia's doe-like hazel eyes, warm smile, poreless honey coloured skin and sleekly combed brown hair in an intentionally casual loose bun, radiating caring elder sister energy, Aristomache almost gave in.

Almost.

Everyone in the family may be susceptible to Lydia's charm and beauty, but she would not be one of those people. She wasn't three, so she knows for a fact that it would hurt. A lot, in fact. And she would very much rather do it herself.

"No thanks. I don't do buns."

"Well, alright. Call me if you need me, I'll be in the next room getting dressed. Speaking of which, do you need me to pick out an outfit for you?" Lydia asked and Aristomache shook her head firmly.

She could tell what Lydia was implying, though it might not have been her intentions. Since young, everyone always said that she looked like Lydia, but when they compared her to Lydia, she was ten times worst. Lydia's old clothes and toys and weapons and armor were always passed to her because "what suits Lydia will suit you". She hated it, truly.

As soon as Lydia left with the rest of her 3 siblings, Aristomache was once again left alone with her reflection and a head of curly, matted and tangled hair.

She was not going to turn into Lydia. She wasn't anything like Lydia and she was going show it, not only through her fist, but also through her hair...

A good thirty minutes later, Aristomache stared at the small heap of her on her dresser and the small dagger her father had given her contently. Her waist length matted hair have been thinned and cut into a smooth shoulder length poof.

Although she thought she looked strange, it was nothing short of interesting to see her years of heavy long locks being cropped cleanly off. Her mother and sisters would surely freak when they see this, but she was pretty proud of her handiwork.

Swiftly tying her hair into a braid, she even added little touches of details to her overall look, for example, giving herself an eyebrow slit like her nana and REALLY getting into the eyeliner.

By the time she bursts into the dressing room, her sisters were already long gone. So she took her last pick of accessories and clothes.

When she barged into the living room barely a minute later, her mother and sisters almost cried tears of joy. Aristomache thinks they haven't noticed her hair yet so she enjoyed the "compliments" for the time being.

"Oh my immortal, you look just like Lydia!" "Is that really your hair? It used to be so puffy and matted!" "The youngest in out family have finally grown up."

Aristomache may be smiling but she was fuming inside. All those compliments are just well disguised insults and jabs towards how she usually looks and acts.

"You don't think that eyeliner is a bit excessive? And the eyebrow slit? I have not idea where you got that." Her mother commented as she peered more closely at her face, a satisfied smile of a proud mother shown on her face.

"Just wait till you pin up your hair. Everyone's going to LOVE you." Mother said and inched over with a hair piece, a hand darting to the back of her to grab her usually assessable trail of hair.

Her hand halted when she grabbed nothing and her whole face instantly stilled. Spinning Aristomache around by the shoulders, she was horrified to see the point where the hair ends.

"YOU CUT YOUR HAIR WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!? HOW COULD YOU?" Her mother demanded and she just shrugged. Her sister's had to hold back her furious mother in an attempt to save their family reputation.

"Mother. It's alright. The hair will grow back eventually. Besides, it's not uncommon for us to cut short our hair, it's more convenient that way." Lydia worked her magic and pointed out, surprisingly her mother calmed down a little.

"Well, originally, I had high hopes for the both of you to bring pride to the Amazonian by continuing our legacy and providing us with healthy and genetically superior children, but the chances are much slimmer now." Mother said sounding almost annoyed.

Aristomache winced at how brutally blunt her mother was about these things. She wasn't wrong. Interacting with the all-male tribes is simply out of necessity, and looking pretty is just so that the strongest warriors might sire your child and you'll have naturally talented babies.

"Whatever, to make up for it, I'll act extra nice, okay? Can I go get nana's blessings now?" She asked and stormed into her grandmother's room without anyone replying to her.

As soon as she entered, however, tension drained from her face as she was met with her wonderfully fierce grandmother, sharpening a celestial bronze hair pin.

"Ahh, there's my favorite grand-daughter." Nana said as she beckoned Aristomache over to her said and showed her the neat rows of decorative accessories.

"These are all hidden weapons. I used to keep them on me back in the day when the men don't stay in line. As my favorite grand-daughter, you can choose one to keep." Nana said and showed the collection to Aristomache like the fierce no-nonsense woman she is and had been.

There were all sorts of things. Sharpened hairpins with hidden blades, rings with hidden needles dipped with poison, and metal belts which double a whip-like weapon.

Although the belt was tempting, Aristomche chose the hair pin. It'd be the easiest to bring around and the deadliest for self-defense. The pin was handcarved from wood into a flowery, butterfly pattern. In other words, it was much too tempting.

She might have short hair now but she could still use it, so she randomly slotted it into her head or hair. It might have looked terribly out of place but no one said anything, it's not like she would care even if they did anyways.