Brier Vingettes: Scars

Three short shorts to show three of Brier's emotional scars.  

A Waste of Time 

“It’d be a waste of time to teach you to read.  You wouldn’t understand half the words anyway.”  

Lord Brouchard did not look up from his paperwork, so he didn’t see her flinch as he’d struck her.  The disappointment and shame in her belly certainly stung like a blow.  

He knew he had arranged for other guards to learn to read.  She’d had a bit of hope.  It wasn’t just the extra money paid to guards who could read that had drawn Brier to ask if there was a way she could learn.  Hadn’t it been Albin with his crisp voice and his crisp uniform and his beautifully penned letters home that had made her want to come to the capital to work in the first place? 

But unlike her brother, she seemed to be a slow study at learning proper Anjulian.  She could manage it for phrases like “thank you,” and “As you wish, sir” But the proper Anjulian vowels were hard to keep hold of.  When she wasn’t very careful they slipped away and her mountain ones slipped right in again.  

She supposed she just wasn’t smart enough. 

“I understand.” She said with a bow and slipped out of the office.   

The Stolen Kiss

Some disconnected part of Brier’s mind knew that some of the other recruits, Rounet’s cohorts, had stopped their own practicing and were watching the two of them.   She tried to ignore them and followed through with her strike, sending Rounet’s wooden practice blade spinning off, hitting the ground with a thud.   She lowered her own blade and tilted her head at the man.  

Why was he still grinning? Why were his friends still standing here? 

“Good fight, Delman,” he said.  He offered her a hand to shake.  She looked down at the hand, warily.  

“Aren’t you going to take it?” one of his friends asked.  

“You really are an ice princess!” another one said.  

Brier chewed her lip and shifted her wooden practice blade to her other hand, taking his hand to shake with her good hand.  

He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer.  With his other hand he grabbed hold of one of her tight braids and leaned in to kiss her lips.  

Brier gasped.  She kicked him in the shin, hard, until he let her hair and hand go.  She took a step back and swung the practice sword up between them.   Despite being wielded by her off hand it connected with his nose with a wet crack. 

His hand flew up. “You bitch!” He shouted “You broke my nose!” 

Rounet’s friends were all laughing “Shit! She showed you!” 

“Oh, I’d pay to see that again!” 

“What’s going on over here!” Brier heard a voice from across the training field shout.  She backed away.  Suddenly despite the summer sun she felt quite cold.  

 

Who Else? 

 

“Who got the position?” Brier heard the girls in the hall, coming towards the room that they all shared.  She hunted her shoulders and pulled the covers over her head.  

“Delman, who else?” 

“Ugh. It’s always Delman.” 

“It’s those stupid rosy cheeks.  She’s a great adornment to the outside of a princess’s boudoir.”

“Maybe.  But honestly have you ever seen anyone who is such a goodie goodie? People like Little lap that up.”   

“You know what the boys call her?” 

Brier curled tighter in her bed as she listened to the other two girls giggle.   One of them opened the door.  

“Oh shit.” She whispered.  “She’s right there! Do you think she heard us?” 

“No. She must be asleep.  Lights out at nine.  Heaven forbid Delman broke a rule” the other one whispered back.