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“I look forward to…” Captain Rekker paused, searching for the correct word, “learning about your people.”
“Very well.” Captain Marcus clapped him on the shoulder.
Since Captain Rekker had been speaking to me, I saw his eyes change from a shadowy forest reflection to a suddenly bright forest pond, with beams lighting up the surface. I inhaled, ready to say something or gasp, but before I could do either he blinked, and his irises went back to normal.
A grunt sounded before a thump echoed, like a body falling to the ground, drawing everyone’s attention in the courtyard.
“I said don’t touch me,” a girl with yellow hair spat to the man currently rolling on the cobblestone pathway—holding his nether region.
Captain Rekker barked something in another language while the man on the ground grunted once more, gesturing to the girl who stood above him. The dress she wore was faded, stained, and wrinkled. Looking at her messy hair and clothing, I wondered again what sort of kingdom Brural was? Did they treat all their women in such a derogatory way? Or did the women prefer it?
The girl cut in, yelling at Captain Rekker, and gesturing to the man on the ground. Her fists clenched, and she waved them around her before placing them on her hips and glaring.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, curiously.
“Our women are just as much warriors as the men. They don’t agree with our King's decree that they be brought here,” Captain Rekker confessed, which surprised me. I didn’t think he’d be so forthcoming with information.
Perhaps the peace talks might actually be fruitful… Or saddle us with women warriors who could infiltrate and stage a coup.
At the very least, they could spy on our King, gain access to our guard, learn the routine, then lead an invasion. It’s exactly what I would do if I wanted to win a war, but I was just a lady of the court. Only good for sitting around looking pretty, being a status boost for a future husband, and bearing children. What would it be like if I were allowed to be a warrior? To ride beside my comrades or protect them from within the trees, the best vantage point for my bow.
“Whether they like it or not, they respect our King and follow his orders. They will not be any trouble for you,” the impressive captain assured, eyes boring into the girl.
Her gaze dropped in response, seeming almost remorseful.
I, for one, would not be turning my back on any of them.
Setting the delicate teacup on the saucer with a clink, I gently dabbed my lips, and peered around the room from beneath my lashes at the lady’s parlor. There seemed to be an invisible line between the Bruralian ladies and us. The distrust in the air was palpable.So much for the prospect of peace, I scoffed while taking another sip of tea.
The difference between the two courts was strikingly obvious. The Thimmarian ladies were draped in finery and jewels, prim noses in the air, and pinkies reaching for the heavens with perfect etiquette. Yet, the Bruralian’s were making a statement with their dirty, crumpled, plain dresses, and glowering expressions. It was refreshing to see people at court who showed up without a care of what others may think of them.
Immediately, I felt a stirring inside me that I didn’t recognize. After a moment, I was able to place the emotion, jealousy. How freeing it must be to enter a room and be exactly who you were, not some frilly puppet.
With a mental nod I reached a decision and pushed myself out of my chair. If there were even the slightest chance at peace, then we owed it an honest effort. Eyes tracked my movement as I confidently strolled to the Bruralian side of the room, but I ignored the tightness between my shoulder blades. My senses told me what I already knew—all the tiptoeing around needed to end.
Offering my hand to the nearest Bruralian lady, the same yellow-haired woman from the carriages, I dove in with both feet. “Thank you for joining us for tea. I hope it is to your liking?”
The girl in front of me nodded at my words, eyes wide with recognition and full of mistrust. With an inward sigh, I tried again. “I’m sure Thimmaria is different from what you are accustomed to, is there any way I can make you feel... more at home?”
“Do you have a weapons room and a field to practice?” A voice asked from my left.
Turning, I faced the speaker, a muscular brunette with a small scar on her chin. “The women of Thimmaria aren’t allowed access to the weapons room, but I can take you to the practice field. The guards appreciate it when we watch them.” I cringed inwardly, already suspecting how she would respond—probably the way I had when I first came to the castle.
“And that is satisfying to you? Only watching?” The woman I approached first spoke.
My pulse picked up, and I struggled to find the words I was supposed to say.
“What’s satisfying is seeing Tannan’s abs...” Tresha muttered from across the room. Immediately, she slapped her hand over her mouth while giggles erupted.
With Tresha’s bawdy, unladylike comment, the ice was broken, and I smiled when the Bruralian ladies in the room began to snigger. One of them suggested we abandon our tea in favor of the practice field. With everyone’s agreement we made our way outside, and I matched my steps to the girl with the scar. Her wary eyes glanced over at me.
“Captain Rekker mentioned that the women of Brural are also warriors, is that true?” The question had been buzzing around in my head, my curiosity overtaking my manners.
She smirked as if she hadn't noticed my faux pas. “Every single woman is required to be adept with at least one weapon. If they master it, they can learn more. It's a tradition to learn.”
“Why would you ever need to wield a weapon?” The very concept was thrilling to me.
“While the men work and fight, we protect the home, our children, and ourselves,” her simple answer intrigued me and made so much sense. It was why my father taught me to shoot. To defend myself.
