Day IV: Betrayal
Today I have come into my first moment of betrayal and I've found that it stings, harshly. Cherry and I were in the common room, talking as we usually did, toasting bread and laughing together. Belle joined us after a while, and we included her happily. But when Danny entered the room, his armor glinting and his face shining with rain, Cherry ignored us. Instead of welcoming him over and offering to share the fire with him, she got to her feet, a freshly buttered piece of toast in her hand, and walked over to him. After shocking me and Belle throughly by kissing him on lips for several long moments, she lead him over to an armchair where they sat together for the rest of the evening, murmuring quietly and laughing and kissing and her feeding him bits of toast. Danny would occasionally look over at me and smirk, his eyes cold and happy with his success.
It makes me sick. To think that Cherry, the girl I had been friends with since I can remember, the girl that I had carried when she was too sick to walk, the girl that I had protected and sheltered and fed, to think that she no longer wanted anything to do with me, instead chosing Danny, who had only ever used her and taunted her. I don't understand. I really have no idea what I'm supposed to do anymore, but I could only stand to watch them for a few minutes before my stomach grew sick and I left, bidding Belle a hasty goodbye. So it's now only a half-bell past supper and I am in my rooms, the rain lashing at the windows. I write in this "Combat Journal" knowing full well I will never see combat.
I am to be tamed, kept aside, hidden. 'Linked with Nature'. Yeah, right. They just want me out of the way. No wonder Charydis chose Danny over me. He'll be strong, popular, important. He's already one of the handsomest men in the city...and here I am, an absolute nothing. Danny's blonde, fair, sturdy, and I'm dark-haired, eyes blue as the ice lining the walls, and skinny as a stick. I don't see how I could've fooled myself into thinking Cherry liked me.
A few days ago, before we were taken into the King's service, she told me I should see about wedding Belle. Belle is a lovely girl, and a good friend, but...I can't see myself marrying her. She stubborn and strong-willed, and while I have nothing against that, I couldn't share my life with someone who wanted to control it. No, Belle is not for me. Besides, I saw a day or so ago in the hidden hallway with one of the female servants...and I don't think they were exchanging information. But for all I know, Belle could be getting a headstart on her duties as Queen's Lady, pulling all the servants to her side. The servants know all that goes on in a castle, whether they're seen or not.
There is a bard beneath my window, playing a rather mournful tune. A beautiful one, but it's so sad. I hope they open the gates up for him soon. Tonight is too rough a night for anyone to be out alone. The rain will probably be turning to ice by the next bell, as the taps on my windows are becoming heavier and somewhat slower. The wind is picking up, and it seems that we may be in for another ice storm.
As this entry continues, it is a bell later than the last sentence, as I finally grew tired of the bard's song and wandered into the larger hall to bid him entry. None of the guards wanted to let him in, however. It seems like he has only ever come before wars, famines, and strife. I said I didn't care and to let him in. Letting a man freeze to death because of some silly superstition is more of a tragedy than a war being declared. Finally, they opened the doors and let him inside. Well, they would have.
The bard had passed out on the steps, his lute several lengths away from his hand. Gritting my teeth, I had stepped outside in my bare feet and loose tunic and hose and slung his arm over my shoulder. Carefully, I drug him inside, dusting the sleet from his cloak and hair. His lips were dreadfully blue and his skin was pale, so I had one of the guards help me carry him upstairs into my room where there was a large, warm fire and no one to ask nosy questions. I took his sopping wet cloak and hung it over a chair, wrapping him in a blanket in front of the fire.
I now sit at my desk, another candle lighting my page as I wait for the bard to awaken. Knowing Danny, whose rooms are only a few doors down from mine, when we are summoned out for tomorrow's training, he'll make some snide remark about bedding a bard. He always does like to tease and taunt me about not liking girls. Which isn't true! I know some men do like other men, but I prefer my partners soft and sweet and supple, not lean and strong and all muscles. It doesn't suit me. But all that shall happen tomorrow, and I wait to see wait the morning shall bring. I have to say, if the bard's luck is as bad as they say, we may well have succeeded in letting the surrounding countries overwhelm our borders by morning, though I doubt it. It seems the longer I stay in the castle, the stranger my life becomes.
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Aya-Death Angel
Mostly poetry, no real deep thought. Just a place for momentary bursts of creativity.
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