Lies Dressed In Lace

Warriors Don't Wear Lace

Chapter 13 Warriors Don't Wear Lace

    A whole week of training with Valtok has left my body a bruise, a big throbbing bruise. Yet I get up every morning and do all of his training exercises even practicing when my body just wants to curl up and never stand again. I haven't even seen Wolkif wandering around. But its the night of the dance and I'm almost positive he'll show his face and I will still feel like my legs are perpetually giving out under me. Valtok doesn't wake me up today, letting me sleep and relax for once probably spending the morning with my father to figure out a mission to send me on. Wolfie enjoys sleeping in today but I still get up early and take a warm bath to sooth my still sore muscles and maybe be able to actually walk to the feast tonight.

    Laying my arm on the edge of the bath around me I look at my scared arm. The scar isn't particularly ugly but almost perfect, the raised skin is still a fresh pink but the skin sunken down is perfectly white like the lace of my mothers favorite nightgown. The words are a mix of pink and white making it look like intricate scales along the thick body wrapped around my arm like a snake. Slowly I trace the first few lines starting at the dragons head and down his body. The lines are thick and soft to the touch feeling like a baby's skin rather then a horrible burn, a rebirth of my skin almost. Reborn of fire and blood, thats what old tales would say I found in the library when I was a child, father hid them away but I was a curious little thing and hell bent on knowing why he would hide something from me. I found them in a locked drawer in one of the studies desks he favored, my nurse had a key and when she fell asleep with her needle work I stole the key and read the books as often as I could. Knights would fight dragons in these books and if they survived slaying the dragon they would become heroes and everyone would love them. But in one story it was a criminal that slue the dragon and saved a princess he was called the reborn one from fire and blood, he could communicate with the dragons after that and even bore a scar of his triumph. All his crimes were forgotten and he was celebrated for becoming the hero when no knight before him could slay this dragon.

    I hated how they were called heroes for killing a beast of magic and now I hate them for killing every one of them and leaving me nothing but a burn on my arm in a language no one reads. I am bitter and alone with a dead dragon haunting me.

    Soon enough Marsyla comes to help me get dressed and fix my hair. She stands behind me combing out my long locks and telling me about the latest gossip but I barely listen to her instead running my fingers over the bumps on my arm under my sleeve. I remember how gentle Wolkif was cleaning it, it hurt but he cared enough, again, to not want to hurt me more. Yet seeing him again after so many years apart I know that nothing of the boy I loved is left even if he has moments where I think I see a ghost of it, he's not there at all. "Princess Sylenia?" She sings poking me with the brush.

    "Yes, sorry I was just lost in thought for a moment." She nods.

    "Who were you thinking about?" She winks at me through the mirror.

    "No one, I have this scar on my arm and I don't quite remember why I have it." Not a complete lie.

    "Are you sure? Because I saw you smiling and I can tell when a girl smiles because of a boy." She winks again.

    "No, no boy just a memory of a ghost I suppose." She stays quiet after that just brushing my hair then braiding it in a pretty fashion with pearls and blue ribbons that will please my mother undoubtedly. Then leaves me to dress on my own. The pants feel softer than my others, the material isn't as corse against my legs and hands and the pockets aren't noticeable only looking like little folds in the material, slipping on the top part of my dress I find that it laces in the front making it easier for me to dress on my own. The simple gold heels Marsyla picked out are my sisters but she would never mind me using them. I step out from my bathroom to my empty chambers and notice a Night Whisper flower, it only blooms under a full moon and sky of stars. Leaving it in my window I go still feeling alone but not afraid tonight.