Asa crashed onto the cot after another long day of pretending to be adequate. The layers of exhaustion that she masked during the day all weighed on her, feeling heavier for the hiding. Right on cue, her mind wandered to Alfread. It didn’t help that she slept in the bed that had been his, that she could still smell him, or touch some of the things he left behind. Alas, when did she ever choose what was most helpful to her?
Asa thought of the night of Brighten, when she should’ve returned his kiss. In a life full of bad decisions, that may’ve been the crowning shame.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I never do anything right.
For all that it hurt, a part of her was gratified that she’d proven herself once again to be the fool. This was the way that it should be. This was a world that made sense. Asa of Ferrickton, the fool.
She was the girl in the wrong place at the right time and who did the wrong thing in the right place. She was the cognitive-affectomancer who killed her mother in her birthing, who invaded Vulcan when her father and aunt died of the plague, who defended strangers when her cousin went missing and their hometown was destroyed. Of course, she wouldn’t kiss the man of her dreams when he did the most storybook sweet gesture of love she’d ever experience. She was a fool.
She was the fool who had believed it when people said they loved her when they only wanted to have sex with her. She was the girl who innocently went to bed thinking that maybe she would find someone who would care about her this time. Leverith! She had let herself believe in love and that she was lovable. Even when she was in her darkest spaces, she had repeatedly succumbed to hope when those men pretended to love. Falling for the honeyed words of Barnabus Bitterbreeze and being told she was nothing to him but a pretty face after he’d used her enough times. Irvaine Celvine’s promises of love enduring before learning she was another box crossed off a checklist to tally points against his lordling rivals. Even Whelan Bearbreaker had been a heartbreak; she’d dreamt of being future archlady of her homehold and wife to an honorable and powerful man. Alas, she couldn’t spark love in him. His heart and mind belonged to a worthier candidate.
How could Asa ever compete with Sebreena Ruby? A jagged, cracked rock is nothing beside such a perfect jewel.
When she finally found one that did care, that did love her, she convinced herself that it wasn’t real, and if it was she didn’t deserve it. She knew he would stop caring, stop loving, the moment she let him have her. Dancing beside the river, shining like two stars in the night, Asa knew that a kiss would lead to sex and that sex would lead to her being discarded into the dreg heap.
Well, she was back in the dreg heap where she belonged. Alfread was off to Rubinia. A man of his qualities would quickly learn just how unworthy she was. Her false light didn’t hold a candle to most of the highborn ladies at Leverian University. It would only take one conversation with Sebreena Ruby for Alfread to see that Asa was never radiant.
She could already see the whole story unfold. Alfread would easily prove himself exceptional enough to obtain a meritorious grant. Perfect Sebreena would feel compassion for his status, adoring his good nature and immaculate looks. She’d shield him from elitists like Irvaine Celvine and his sycophants. They would rapidly discover how incredible the other was and fall deeply in love. King Adameon, seeing Alfread’s merit and political opportunity, would spin their love story as a great triumph of the heart, rallying the common folk to his side by bonding his most precious daughter to one of their own. Minstrels would write ballads and sing about it until the end of eternity. The next time Asa saw Alfread, his lips would be locked onto Sebreena’s and Asa would know that she was never worthy of his love. She’d die used up by others, discarded again and again, alone, having done nothing worthy in all her life.
She couldn’t make the thoughts stop. They bred each other, passing her from one abuser to the next, as was her lot in life. Where was Zander? His friendship was the only light in this darkness, and she expected he’d soon let go of her too now that more military men were here. They’d see his worth, elevate him, and she’d be left behind. On her own again. With only these dark thoughts for company. But she’d get up every day, pretend to be a ray of light like her dad told her to be, and be neglected just like her dad showed her to be.
Asa laid in the abandoned bed of the man she dreamt could’ve been hers, dwelling on her failures, prophesizing the many catastrophes of tomorrow. When the tent opened, she kept her face hidden in the blankets, savoring the final lingering traces of Alfread’s scent.
“Am I in the wrong place or are ye Leverith’s Answer ter my prayers, Shiny?”
The voice was most certainly not Zander’s. Asa’s old friend panic surged back to life, echoing with the remembrance of what happened when a strange man was alone with her while she was lying down, trapped in a place with one exit. Grasping hands. Torn garments. Back pressed to the bed, unable to move. Hard to breathe, mighty fingers on her throat. The scent of firewhiskey. Claudius Dalardor’s grinning face. A gravelly voice. Ambrose’s revenge. Pain between her legs. Teeth sinking in. Unable to scream. Overwhelming powerlessness.
Why wasn’t she sleeping in a closet or under the bed? Because she was a fool.
Asa froze, every muscle going tense, as if that would make men ignore the defenseless girl that looked different, that had no protectors. It didn’t work then, nor did it now.
“Are ye alright, Shiny?”
It was the perverted jackanapes from Bear’s Crossing. He was ugly through-and-through. Barnabus Bitterbreeze without the magic. She felt his depraved gaze on her, even as she hid beneath the blankets, her face buried in the pillow.
“Why so shy? I ain’t goin’ to ‘ert ye, Shiny.”
She launched upward, clenching the blanket to her neck like armor. Her nightgown was on, but she didn’t want him seeing any bare flesh. “Zander will be back any moment. Leave before I have him geld you, deviant!”
The would-be rapist flinched before recovering his stupid smile. He cleared his throat, making a strenuous effort to speak like a civilized human being instead of the animal that he’d shown himself to be. “I am squire ter,”—he flinched—“to Sir Zander.” He gestured to Zander’s cot. “I reckon that’s ‘is bed.” He grimaced, then pointed to Asa’s bed. “And that’s my bed yer in.”
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Asa didn’t believe that Zander made this pig his squire. He wasn’t going to take away the one place in the world where she could stop pretending to be happy for everyone else. It couldn’t be true. Of course, it could. Wasn’t this what always happened, what she deserved?
“Get out!” she shrieked, pinning the blanket tighter to her, ready to scream for Zander if this animal took another step toward her.
The boy moped in the entryway, momentarily looking as if he’d been slapped hard in the face. He ruined any hope for her pity when he opened his divinedamned mouth. “Until next time, Shiny.”
What a loathsome creature! The gall the vile abomination had to use Leveria’s most sacred farewell, reserved only for people you loved. Asa prayed to Leverith that there would never be a next time as he fled into the night.
It took a real fool to be taught a lesson repeatedly and not learn from it. The moment he was gone, she draped the blanket over the side of the bed, and hid beneath it. She’d stay here in this cramped space until Zander returned, her ears attuned to the sound of the tent flap.
Degrees felt like angles as she failed to calm herself. Eyes open or eyes closed, she saw nightmares. Claudius chasing her through the encampment, nobody listening to her screams as he caught her each time, threw her down, and tore into her. Alfread not even sparing a glance as he made love to Sebreena Ruby. The vile squire pointing at her, laughing, and telling Claudius he was going to have the next round.
Of course, this boy would be Zander’s squire, her replacement. He’d come back, Zander in tow, and they’d kick her out. She’d have no place to go, stripped of her command, she’d have to either beg the medicans to let her join them and be subject to how women treated her, or she’d have to take a tent surrounded by strong men.
She startled as the tent flap was thrown open. Shaking, clutching to the pillow, she made herself as small as she could, trying not to make a sound when all she wanted to do was scream.
“Asa?”
She recognized that anger. Her father had the same snap to his tongue when he was in a dark mood, it preceded the yelling, which then led to the leaving and not seeing him until he came home the next morning, still drunk. Zander was a far larger man than her father. A smack from him would do more than sting.
“She was right there,” the pig said.
Zander let out a heavy exhale. Each step toward her bed felt like lightning thundering in her heart. “I know you’re down there, Asa. Come out. We’re going to figure this out.”
She felt undeserving of his warmth and doubted its reality. They often went soft just before they got cruel.
“Come on, sister,” he said, soft. “Let’s talk this through. We are going to find a way to make this work.”
Crying, Asa slipped out from beneath the little cot. Not brave enough to look at Zander, and certainly not glancing at the pig, she plopped onto the cot, arms folded and eyes down.
Zander sat beside her, letting her rest her head against him. He put his arm around her. Held her secure as if she wasn’t a colossal disappointment. Still, she couldn’t relax. She felt naked before the squire’s prying eyes.
“I don’t have to stay in the tent,” the squire said. “If Shiny ain’t comfortable.”
Zander pointed toward an open space along the back wall of the tent. He spoke like a man who sought to avoid a fight, but was prepared to fight and win. “Place your bedroll there, Kenneth. You are my squire and that makes you my family. This is our home now.”
Asa stole a glance at Kenneth. The squire averted his eyes, looking across the other side of the tent. He set his bedroll and his nearly empty rucksack down in the open space then removed his sword belt and slid into the bedroll fully clothed.
Asa braced for a ribald jest. Kenneth rolled over, staring into the back of the tent.
Zan ran his hand through her hair, like her father on his better days. A wave of shame crashed into her as he worked to make her pain smaller when she made his larger. “Iceheart will be here on the morrow. We stand on the precipice of battle and I need you both. I need to know that I can count on you to stand by me when I push for peace.”
The squire was enthusiastic. “Ye kin count on me!”
“You can,” Zander corrected.
“You kin count on me,” the squire reattempted.
Sighing, Zander glanced down at Asa’s head in his lap. His frown lifted into a smile when his eyes locked onto hers. “What about you, sister?” The newborn smile flickered. “Will you stand with me?”
Asa wanted to fix that smile onto his face, to take away his pain the way he did to her. Yet, her heart ached for retribution against the Sapphire Kingdom. That was a wound old, festered, and newly plagued. To act upon love or to give herself to hate?
She set her hand in his, hungry for his care even though she didn’t believe in herself to be worthy of it. “I’m with you, brother.”
Zander was no Asa of Ferrickton. He wasn’t a divinedamned fool. His head bobbed, but his lips remained flat. She grimaced, expecting him to lash back at her. Again, he proved her foolish mind wrong.
He caressed her head, as if that could make her thoughts less dark and twisted. “Thank you. From this day forth, we need to be a team.” He glanced toward the squire. “Kenneth!”
The squire shot upright, meeting Zander’s gaze. “Yessir!”
“I need you to refrain from … being yourself around Master Asa. No comments on her appearance or whatever else you might say to a tavern maid.”
“Can I call her ‘Shiny?’”
Zander looked at Asa. She shrugged. As far as sobriquets went, Shiny wasn’t so bad. “You may,” Zander told his squire.
“I ken do that.” He flinched. “I can do that.”
“I am relying on it.” He set his eyes back on Asa. “I need you to give him a chance.”
Asa felt a pit of disgust in her stomach. It grew, spreading all over her. She didn’t attempt to conceal even an iota of her disgust. “Why him?”
The squire settled back into his bedroll, eyes away from them. “Because I believe in who he can be. I would trust no other man in this encampment to stand with me as much as I trust him.”
Asa was shocked in Zander’s faith for this flea-bitten bastard with the rough diction, absence of propriety, and ugly face. Thunder boomed. Moments later, rain pattered on the tent. The storm outside made her feel even more like it was her and Zander against the world and this vile creature was thunder booming in their ears. She didn’t comprehend Zander’s faith in the pig, but she knew her own faith in Zander.
“I will try,” Asa promised. That reluctant offering was the best she could or would offer.
Lightning crashed just outside of their tent, as if to seal their pact and judge her hesitation at once. Asa startled, as did Zander, but the squire kept still, unperturbed by Balbaraq’s pranks and whims.
Zander made for his own cot, leaving her with one last pat on her head.
Asa kept her untrusting eyes on the squire, his head pressed against the back of the tent. All of her ruminations about the promise she made led to one conclusion. Kenneth was a fool but he wasn’t the only one in the tent. She didn’t have to be fond of him but she could tolerate him and maybe even learn to accept him. For the love of her shield-brother, she could try and hope for the best in Kenneth. A smile even rose on her lips. At least she knew this wasn’t a man who was going to love her and leave her.