TORN

Sweat beaded down my scalp and gathered in my brow, reminding me of the lack of clouds blocking the scorching sunlight. That is no bother to me. I have a particular lust for pain. If you were to ask me, “Why?” I couldn’t give you a sufficient answer, but I suppose it started very young. Memories of me as a small child being forced to learn embroidery flashed through my mind. I squinted, or maybe it was more of a glare filled with resentment towards the unforgiving sun, reminiscing of the days I would weave the needle through my fingers as if it were a frame. The Governess forbade me from even looking at a needle after that little charade. A smile crept across my lips as I reminisced my former shenanigans. Although, they never really ended, did they?

The number of sympathetic women who can relate to never being wanted in the first place is scarce. I imagine it is nonexistent, considering I’ve never had the pleasure of conversing with a lady who can relate. Most princesses are worshipped by their parents. They’re treated like they’re made of gold and blessed with divine power. Perhaps “fragile” is the best adjective for how they’re treated. It’s as if the tiniest inconvenience could shatter their entire world, and it’s in everyone’s best interest to ensure that never happens.

I had forgotten that staring into the sunlight for too long could cause blindness, but the stinging and watering of my eyes brought me back to reality. I slumped my head towards the ground and squeezed my eyelids shut, the water from my tear ducts running to my aid.

My corset was unbelievably tight. Nothing I’m not used to. As I said, I have an unhealthy desire for discomfort. I’ve grown to enjoy the lack of air filling my chest. However, it has always puzzled me why I wear such uncomfortable apparel, for the only people who appreciate it are my family, knights--without a doubt, the Knights--, and Aelric.

The ringing of blades in the distance pierced my ears as I shot a glance at Aelric and my brother dueling, a near-daily occurrence—one that I am most pleased to observe. There’s not much to do inside the castle grounds, although to the average civilian, I’m sure there is. I could pity myself without good reason, but you have to understand that I’ve been roaming these grounds since I could crawl, and they have not changed a thing.

Time crawled past at a snail’s pace, as it’s been ten years since I’ve stuck a needle through my finger for pure amusement. I’m now a woman of twenty summers, and I’ll be a woman of twenty and one when the warmth turns to autumn chill. In other words, I've been of age for three summers and have yet to be claimed by a suitor. When you’re a woman of noble blood, you spend your entire life readying your mind and body for marriage. One might think this has desensitized me to the tedious lectures and tasks I’ve been compelled to learn through the seasons, but I watch my twin brother have the freedom to do as he pleases without retribution. This ingrained a deep envy within my soul.

Both Aelric and Leo were covered in sweat. I crossed my arms and scanned the courtyard for straggling servants who often pretend to busy themselves while foolishly gawking at the sight of young, sweaty noblemen. The critical difference between the servants and me is that I don’t pretend. I make it blatantly obvious, hoping to make Aelric uncomfortable. After countless attempts, I noticed that my presence often went undetected until the boys finished their duel. My whereabouts seemed to be the last thing on Aelric's mind. It mattered not. I was there for my pleasure alone.

When I was young, I had more interest in pranking my twin and my servants, finding ways to agitate my parents, and imagining schemes to escape than any desire to canoodle with boys my age. At some point, there was a shift in my attention. I began to notice the respect and weight a man’s opinion carries, and the gears in my head turned, picturing using narrowed vision to my advantage. Excuse my harsh language; I meant that they’re incapable of believing a woman could ever hold a position of power or significance without the title of a man in front of them. It’s exhausting.

Yet, amidst the plotting of using a man’s lust for a woman’s young and curvy anatomy to my advantage, I came to enjoy gawking at young, handsome men. Preferably partially unclothed. The Governess, Joan, gifted me scriptures for my seventeenth birthday, describing intimacy between man and wife to produce an heir. A long while before I even understood what an intimate binding entails, I’d been eyeing up guest noblemen who tended to visit once in a blue moon. Governess Joan reassures me it’s a part of maturing, but I’m convinced that something completely innocent has become a wicked obsession.

My hobbies include observing The Guard practice dueling and studying Aelric and Leo fencing. They’re quite skilled compared to the majority of The Guard. Yet, that’s expected of noblemen destined to lead an army at some point in their lifetime. However, one Knight bests all of them: mine, Sir James. When you constantly analyze the male specimen and fantasize, you tend to form a preference.

Strength is on my list of importance. A weak man is an insignificant man. This doesn’t always refer to physicality but intelligence as well. A man is only significant when his presence demands respect and claims attention. Respectable men are straightforward and do not need manipulation or conspiracies. Attractive men, this is my bias speaking, rarely laugh. Women are on the edge of their seats, on the top of their tippy-toes, anticipating a glimpse of their smiles. It almost seems that smiling is only for close friends and family. Life is far too severe for these men to be that joyous during a casual conversation. Lastly, I’ve realized that this is uncommon amongst most women, enticing men are not “slender”. Young noblemen are certainly all lean, not necessarily lacking muscle, but they lack girth. I haven’t figured out the reasoning, but over the years, I’ve chalked it up to a specific noble diet and a lack of experience on the battlefield.

Noblemen are fed well, whereas Knights have the coin to eat what they want but stuff themselves with food that lacks nutrition and fill their guts with ale and wine. Their poor diet causes them to be unhealthy, but they gain width, which allows them to gain more muscle. This is all speculation.

The battle experience leaves these Knights with scars that run up their arms, down their bellies, across their chests… I’m fidgeting, just imagining it. What do those scars feel like? Rough, I imagine. Each mark has its own survival story. Yes, I suppose it’s the abundance of experience that’s attractive.

“My Lady, you must stay in the shade, or you will fall ill.” I heard Aelric nag as he scurried towards me.

“I would rather fall ill.” I smiled at him, crossing my arms.

“Let her die if that’s what she wishes,” Leo interjected, pointing his blade towards me in emphasis. He followed Aelric towards a tree a couple of steps from me.

Although I was confident it was a joke, it did sting, and I frowned as a result. “It’s all jest, Eve,” Aelric reassured. They both removed their gloves and set their blades against the tree trunk. Aelric walked to me, and before I could protest, he gently grabbed my arm with his hand and guided me over to the tree.

“You are precious at the current moment. We can’t risk you getting a fever right before a suitor is found,” Leo surmised. His golden hair was radiant in the sun. I was almost jealous of its silky texture, but then I quickly remembered that we were twins, and I perhaps had the same appearance. “Where is your guard?”

“James? I sent him away,” I shrugged.

“How did you accomplish that?” Aelric asked.

“I simply said that if you don’t leave me alone for at least five minutes, I will scream at the top of my lungs for as long as I have to,” I smirked.

Leo scoffed, “And he listened to such nonsense?”

“I’ve done it before.” I resumed crossing my arms and was holding in an obnoxious petty cackle.

Leo and Aelric chuckled so hard that they held their bellies in place in unison.

“You’re truly one of a kind.” Aelric wiped away a tear gliding down his cheek. “I am worried for your future husband. He will have his hands full.”

“Or empty,” I said with a definitive coldness.

They both glanced at me, or through me, with a sudden sympathy that wasn’t there before. Others make jest of my circumstance as if it’s a minor inconvenience. My whole life is being taken from me and sold to the highest bidder, confirming that my life is a nuisance. I wish I were born an identical twin. Things would’ve been a lot different.

The three of us walked back to the castle in silence. I passed James on the way and waved him a return to his station to avoid repercussions from my parents. Aelric and Leo quickly split ways with me, and I headed to the Great Hall. This is where my parents spend most of their time, speaking with the council, which has never-ending recommendations on who should be my next owner. I don’t dare use the word husband endearingly, at least not in my head.

I’m not one to necessarily avoid confrontation, but I’ve learned enough to pick my battles to win the war. Don’t confuse this with weakness. If there is one thing I refuse to be, it is weak.

I gestured to James by placing my pointer finger in front of my mouth. This means we must be quiet. I swept my golden hair behind my right ear, rested my canal on the Great Hall door, and closed my eyes. From this point on, James was usually on the lookout and would poke me if he heard someone walking toward the corridor.

“It’s indisputable,” I heard my father say.

“I agree,” whispered Sir William, a slithering snake that’s a part of the council. Why these people should have more say on who I marry than myself is beyond me.

“We join forces with Aerendal, and we will surely prosper,” my mother continued the dialogue. I lifted my head from the doors for a moment in shock. I made eye contact with James in horror, eyes wide and round. They must’ve been bulging out of my head due to his response. He bent his head and cocked it to one side, asking but not asking, “What is it?”

I leaned into the door once more, hoping to get confirmation. “They accepted our offer. I wouldn't feel comfortable confiding in anyone else. They understand the risk and are willing to comply for the good of both Kingdoms,” Mother continued.

Accepted our offer? What exactly is being provided in my dowry?

“Aelric is a good choice. It’s always been,” Father agreed. There it is—my confirmation. I pushed off the door and waved James on. He knows we cannot speak of this until we reach my chambers. I hiked up my gown and grabbed hold of the skirt so I could nearly run to my bed.

This must be a nightmare.