Post by devilinthedetails on Apr 15, 2019 6:07:44 GMT 10
Title: Princess Page
Rating: PG-13 for sexism and racism
Word Count: 2122
Themed Event: Alternate Universe Week
Summary: Kally trains as a page.
Princess Page
“I want to train as a page, Papa,” Kally insisted to her father who had spent all afternoon sequestered with her in his stuffy study, trying unsuccessfully to dissuade her from pursuing a path to knighthood as Roald was.
“Even if it means you won’t be able to refuse a marriage we arrange for you?” Papa arched an eyebrow. He had previously extended her the offer of being able to refuse a marriage match she disliked as long as she could devise an excuse his nobles wouldn’t deride as weak, which she had rejected. She was certain that her training as a knight would protect her from the worst potential partners, who would be repulsed by her warrior training.
“You understand suitors will be limited for you since few men of royal birth can afford to offend their countries by marrying a woman trained as a knight, my dear?” Papa sounded as if he were trying to be patient even though his well of patience had dried up long ago.
“I understand more than you think, Papa.” Kally couldn’t keep the sword sharpness out of her voice because one of the things she suspected her father didn’t realize she understood was that he had waited until Mama was busy hunting bandits in the hills by Tusaine with her Riders to discourage her from enrolling in page training in the fall.
“Then you understand how difficult it would be if you trained as a page.” Papa always seemed to have a smooth response to any sharpness.
“I understand it’ll be difficult, but I’ve decided to do it anyway.” Kally clenched her jaw so that her chin wouldn’t wobble. She couldn’t risk appearing vulnerable to her father now. She had spent her childhood hearing her parents claim they did things because they were right and meaningful, not because they were easy. Kally intended to live those words even if her own father fought tooth and nail to stop her. “You gave me a choice, Papa, and I made it. It won’t change no matter how much you nag at me.”
“I’m not nagging at you. I’m advising you though it’s clear you’re too stubborn to listen.” Papa tugged at his black beard. “As you say, you’ve made your decision. I only hope you won’t live to regret it.”
“I won’t, Papa.” Kally flashed her father her most charming grin even though it made her teeth hurt.
“Run along.” Papa waved one hand in a vague gesture at the door while the other rummaged about his desk for a quill and parchment. “I must write Lord Wyldon about your decision and convince him to accept it.”
“You made a proclamation years ago that said girls could train as a page.” Kally’s hands flew to her hips as she rose from her chair. “He has to accept my decision.”
“I thought I told you to go?” Papa snapped, and Kally couldn’t remember ever hearing such a harsh dismissal from him before. “If you’re lucky, Lord Wyldon will listen to my orders better than you do.”
“I take my leave, Your Majesty.” Kally gathered her dress between her shaking fingers and offered her most formal curtsy but no apology for her lack of instant obedience. Papa didn’t deserve one after he’d been quicker to snarl at her than a rabid dog in the kennels.
Her spine stiff as a soldier’s on parade, she marched out of her father’s study, but she barely reached the safety of her older brother’s bedchamber before she started sobbing into the slope of his broadening shoulder. “Papa hates me because I wouldn’t surrender my dream of training as a knight, and now he has to write to Lord Wyldon I want to begin page training in the fall.”
“Papa doesn’t hate you, Kally.” Roald patted her gently on the back, and Kally allowed herself to be soothed by his calmness. “He’s just upset he’ll have to negotiate the terms of your training with Lord Wyldon. Dealing with conservatives always gives him a headache, you know.”
“He deserves a headache for trying to talk me out of training as a page when Mama isn’t here to stop him.” Kally sniffled her indignation at her father’s underhanded tactics.
“Hush.” Roald ruffled her hair. “Don’t cry or you’ll give yourself a headache.”
Kally didn’t want a headache so she swiped away her tears with the back of her hand and let Roald distract her with talk of other things, but three days later when her father invited her into his study for what he described as an important conversation, she again felt the urge to weep as he revealed the humiliating conditions of her page training.
“Lord Wyldon has agreed you may begin page training in the fall if you adhere to certain conditions.” Leaning forward in his chair, Papa fixed firm eyes on Kally, who, too furious at the idea of being restricted in a way a boy wouldn’t, nodded to indicate she was listening to the terms of Lord Wyldon’s agreement. “First, you must not bathe with the boys at midday but in the woman’s baths or the privacy of your own room…”
“As if I’d want to bathe with the boys.” Kally snorted. “That’s gross, Papa.”
Papa shot her a warning glance but otherwise ignored her caustic comment as he continued, “Second, he requires that your door always remain open if there is a boy in your room just as the door of any boy’s room except Roald’s must be kept open if you’re in it. This is—as Lord Wyldon phrases it—to protect your virtue and guard against scandal.”
“He might as well lock me in a covent if the’s that determined to protect my virtue.” Kally couldn’t bite her tongue on her bitterness.
“Those are Lord Wyldon’s rules, and you must follow them if you wish to train as a page, my dear.” Despite the endearment, Papa’s blue gaze was stern. “Understand that I would have imposed similar ones on you to protect your reputation if he hadn’t but allowing him to permits him to feel he won some concessions from me so he might be more accepting of your presence in the pages’ wing.”
“You want me to live like I’m trapped in a convent?” Kally gaped at her father, stunned that he would betray her and her freedom in such a fashion. She had thought that it was only in fairy tales—that weren’t as innocent or romantic as the nursemaids who had told them to her believed—princesses were imprisoned in towers to protect their virtue.
“No.” Papa shook his head. “I might be tempted to send you to a convent to learn some semblance of graciousness if you persist in complaining, however.”
This threat closed Kally’s mouth with a snap. Papa allowed the silence to echo in the study for a moment before saying crisply, “Those are Lord Wyldon’s terms, Kally. Should I inform him that you agree to them or that you prefer to take refuge in a convent?”
“Please tell Lord Wyldon I accept his conditions and will follow all his rules.” Kally fought to maintain her dignity as she agreed to rules that were utterly embarrassing but somehow the terrible price she had to pay to train as a page.
“See that you do follow all his rules.” Papa nodded, face serious as Kally had ever seen it. “Your presence alone will distress Lord Wyldon. There’s no need for you to add disobedience to the strain you’re putting on him.”
“I’ll be good as gold, Papa.” Kally’s hands curled into fists as she offered this promise, and she realized that she would have to escape before she caved to the wild impulse to punch anything in reach. “Do I have your leave to go now?”
“Of course.” Papa waited until she was at the door and could pretend not to hear to add quietly, “Forgive me, my dear.”
She couldn’t forgive him but nor could she be cruel enough to establish as much so she pretended not to have heard him, racing down the hallway until she found Roald seated on a bench one of their balconies. He appeared to be reading from what was doubtlessly a dry history of Tortallan diplomatic relationships with Galla but set the book aside as she stormed out onto the balcony.
“Lord Wyldon is a stick-in-the-swamp.” Kally pounded her fists against her thighs as she sank onto the bench beside her brother. “I’d say his mind was stuck two centuries ago but two centuries ago, they let girls train as knights without a fuss.”
“At least he’s fair enough to allow you to train as a page.” Roald could calm her anger faster than anyone else, but he was awful at sharing it. He was the best older brother a sister could ask for, but he had an aggravating, chronic inability to take sides. He would rather be fair than right, Kally sometimes thought, or maybe the extra year he had lived gave him a maturity she couldn’t fathom. “Even if he did make a fuss about it.”
“He didn’t just make a fuss about it.” Kally wrinkled her nose. “He imposed all sorts of ridiculous rules about my bathing and open doors when I’m with boys who aren’t you.”
“I know the rules are frustrating, but you can’t call them ridiculous in the pages’ wing.” Roald wrapped an arm around her stiff shoulders. “In the pages’ wing, you’ll be under his authority so you’ll have to seem respectful of all his rules even if you think they’re foolish.”
“I know,” Kally muttered, sullen that her favorite sibling wasn’t more sympathetic and less solemn. “Papa explained that.”
“The rules won’t seem so awful once you’ve adjusted to them.” Roald nudged her in what she knew was another effort to cheer her. “We’ll have loads of fun together without breaking a single one of Lord Wyldon’s rules, I promise.”
Kally considered this a much better attempt to cheer her so she permitted herself to be caught up in a hundred shared daydreams of the fun she and Roald would have when she joined him in page training.
She had to draw on these same daydreams for strength when summer ended and she found herself in the corridor of the pages’ wing, being the target of nastily speculative stares and whispers as she waited to introduce herself like any other first-year though in her case an introduction seemed superfluous since everyone appeared to know her name.
Still, when her turn to speak came, she lifted her chin, and, grateful for all the years of etiquette instruction that ensured her tone stayed steady as a rock despite the scrutiny of Lord Wyldon and her fellow pages, announced herself. “Kalasin of Conte.”
“I’d be honored to sponsor my sister, my lord.” Roald spoke as soon as Lord Wyldon requested a volunteer to sponsor her.
“Very well, Your Highness.” Lord Wyldon gave a terse nod, and the introductions continued as Roald strode forward to stand beside her.
“You made a grand introduction,” Roald murmured in her ear, and she would have cracked a grin if it didn’t undermine the royal dignity she was striving to cultivate and didn’t risk alerting Lord Wyldon to the fact they were whispering behind his back. This would be the first secret they shared together as pages but she sensed it wouldn’t be the last.
She didn’t feel like grinning a week later when Joren of Stone Mountain, in front of her in the flood of pages streaming to their mathematics lesson, remarked to his companion with just enough volume to guarantee Kally overhead, “The princess is behind us, Garvey. She must be savage as her mother to want to train as a page.”
Kally’s hands balled but before she could tackle Joren, Roald snatched her arm, dragging her back with the hissed reminder: “We’re royalty. We can’t get into fistfights with everybody who insults us or our parents. We have to set an example of civility for others.”
“He called Mama a savage because she’s half K’miri.” Kally glared at the back of Joren’s blond head as it disappeared around a corner.
“I heard him.” Roald sighed. “We have to be better than him.”
“Because we’re royalty?” Kally grumbled.
“No.” Roald glanced at her with a hint of mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Because we aren’t savages and neither is Mama—unlike certain other pages I could name.”
“You don’t have to.” Kally’s lips quirked as her temper cooled like freshly forged iron plunged into water. “I know you’re referring to Joren of Stone Mountain and Garvey of Runnerspring.”
Rating: PG-13 for sexism and racism
Word Count: 2122
Themed Event: Alternate Universe Week
Summary: Kally trains as a page.
Princess Page
“I want to train as a page, Papa,” Kally insisted to her father who had spent all afternoon sequestered with her in his stuffy study, trying unsuccessfully to dissuade her from pursuing a path to knighthood as Roald was.
“Even if it means you won’t be able to refuse a marriage we arrange for you?” Papa arched an eyebrow. He had previously extended her the offer of being able to refuse a marriage match she disliked as long as she could devise an excuse his nobles wouldn’t deride as weak, which she had rejected. She was certain that her training as a knight would protect her from the worst potential partners, who would be repulsed by her warrior training.
“You understand suitors will be limited for you since few men of royal birth can afford to offend their countries by marrying a woman trained as a knight, my dear?” Papa sounded as if he were trying to be patient even though his well of patience had dried up long ago.
“I understand more than you think, Papa.” Kally couldn’t keep the sword sharpness out of her voice because one of the things she suspected her father didn’t realize she understood was that he had waited until Mama was busy hunting bandits in the hills by Tusaine with her Riders to discourage her from enrolling in page training in the fall.
“Then you understand how difficult it would be if you trained as a page.” Papa always seemed to have a smooth response to any sharpness.
“I understand it’ll be difficult, but I’ve decided to do it anyway.” Kally clenched her jaw so that her chin wouldn’t wobble. She couldn’t risk appearing vulnerable to her father now. She had spent her childhood hearing her parents claim they did things because they were right and meaningful, not because they were easy. Kally intended to live those words even if her own father fought tooth and nail to stop her. “You gave me a choice, Papa, and I made it. It won’t change no matter how much you nag at me.”
“I’m not nagging at you. I’m advising you though it’s clear you’re too stubborn to listen.” Papa tugged at his black beard. “As you say, you’ve made your decision. I only hope you won’t live to regret it.”
“I won’t, Papa.” Kally flashed her father her most charming grin even though it made her teeth hurt.
“Run along.” Papa waved one hand in a vague gesture at the door while the other rummaged about his desk for a quill and parchment. “I must write Lord Wyldon about your decision and convince him to accept it.”
“You made a proclamation years ago that said girls could train as a page.” Kally’s hands flew to her hips as she rose from her chair. “He has to accept my decision.”
“I thought I told you to go?” Papa snapped, and Kally couldn’t remember ever hearing such a harsh dismissal from him before. “If you’re lucky, Lord Wyldon will listen to my orders better than you do.”
“I take my leave, Your Majesty.” Kally gathered her dress between her shaking fingers and offered her most formal curtsy but no apology for her lack of instant obedience. Papa didn’t deserve one after he’d been quicker to snarl at her than a rabid dog in the kennels.
Her spine stiff as a soldier’s on parade, she marched out of her father’s study, but she barely reached the safety of her older brother’s bedchamber before she started sobbing into the slope of his broadening shoulder. “Papa hates me because I wouldn’t surrender my dream of training as a knight, and now he has to write to Lord Wyldon I want to begin page training in the fall.”
“Papa doesn’t hate you, Kally.” Roald patted her gently on the back, and Kally allowed herself to be soothed by his calmness. “He’s just upset he’ll have to negotiate the terms of your training with Lord Wyldon. Dealing with conservatives always gives him a headache, you know.”
“He deserves a headache for trying to talk me out of training as a page when Mama isn’t here to stop him.” Kally sniffled her indignation at her father’s underhanded tactics.
“Hush.” Roald ruffled her hair. “Don’t cry or you’ll give yourself a headache.”
Kally didn’t want a headache so she swiped away her tears with the back of her hand and let Roald distract her with talk of other things, but three days later when her father invited her into his study for what he described as an important conversation, she again felt the urge to weep as he revealed the humiliating conditions of her page training.
“Lord Wyldon has agreed you may begin page training in the fall if you adhere to certain conditions.” Leaning forward in his chair, Papa fixed firm eyes on Kally, who, too furious at the idea of being restricted in a way a boy wouldn’t, nodded to indicate she was listening to the terms of Lord Wyldon’s agreement. “First, you must not bathe with the boys at midday but in the woman’s baths or the privacy of your own room…”
“As if I’d want to bathe with the boys.” Kally snorted. “That’s gross, Papa.”
Papa shot her a warning glance but otherwise ignored her caustic comment as he continued, “Second, he requires that your door always remain open if there is a boy in your room just as the door of any boy’s room except Roald’s must be kept open if you’re in it. This is—as Lord Wyldon phrases it—to protect your virtue and guard against scandal.”
“He might as well lock me in a covent if the’s that determined to protect my virtue.” Kally couldn’t bite her tongue on her bitterness.
“Those are Lord Wyldon’s rules, and you must follow them if you wish to train as a page, my dear.” Despite the endearment, Papa’s blue gaze was stern. “Understand that I would have imposed similar ones on you to protect your reputation if he hadn’t but allowing him to permits him to feel he won some concessions from me so he might be more accepting of your presence in the pages’ wing.”
“You want me to live like I’m trapped in a convent?” Kally gaped at her father, stunned that he would betray her and her freedom in such a fashion. She had thought that it was only in fairy tales—that weren’t as innocent or romantic as the nursemaids who had told them to her believed—princesses were imprisoned in towers to protect their virtue.
“No.” Papa shook his head. “I might be tempted to send you to a convent to learn some semblance of graciousness if you persist in complaining, however.”
This threat closed Kally’s mouth with a snap. Papa allowed the silence to echo in the study for a moment before saying crisply, “Those are Lord Wyldon’s terms, Kally. Should I inform him that you agree to them or that you prefer to take refuge in a convent?”
“Please tell Lord Wyldon I accept his conditions and will follow all his rules.” Kally fought to maintain her dignity as she agreed to rules that were utterly embarrassing but somehow the terrible price she had to pay to train as a page.
“See that you do follow all his rules.” Papa nodded, face serious as Kally had ever seen it. “Your presence alone will distress Lord Wyldon. There’s no need for you to add disobedience to the strain you’re putting on him.”
“I’ll be good as gold, Papa.” Kally’s hands curled into fists as she offered this promise, and she realized that she would have to escape before she caved to the wild impulse to punch anything in reach. “Do I have your leave to go now?”
“Of course.” Papa waited until she was at the door and could pretend not to hear to add quietly, “Forgive me, my dear.”
She couldn’t forgive him but nor could she be cruel enough to establish as much so she pretended not to have heard him, racing down the hallway until she found Roald seated on a bench one of their balconies. He appeared to be reading from what was doubtlessly a dry history of Tortallan diplomatic relationships with Galla but set the book aside as she stormed out onto the balcony.
“Lord Wyldon is a stick-in-the-swamp.” Kally pounded her fists against her thighs as she sank onto the bench beside her brother. “I’d say his mind was stuck two centuries ago but two centuries ago, they let girls train as knights without a fuss.”
“At least he’s fair enough to allow you to train as a page.” Roald could calm her anger faster than anyone else, but he was awful at sharing it. He was the best older brother a sister could ask for, but he had an aggravating, chronic inability to take sides. He would rather be fair than right, Kally sometimes thought, or maybe the extra year he had lived gave him a maturity she couldn’t fathom. “Even if he did make a fuss about it.”
“He didn’t just make a fuss about it.” Kally wrinkled her nose. “He imposed all sorts of ridiculous rules about my bathing and open doors when I’m with boys who aren’t you.”
“I know the rules are frustrating, but you can’t call them ridiculous in the pages’ wing.” Roald wrapped an arm around her stiff shoulders. “In the pages’ wing, you’ll be under his authority so you’ll have to seem respectful of all his rules even if you think they’re foolish.”
“I know,” Kally muttered, sullen that her favorite sibling wasn’t more sympathetic and less solemn. “Papa explained that.”
“The rules won’t seem so awful once you’ve adjusted to them.” Roald nudged her in what she knew was another effort to cheer her. “We’ll have loads of fun together without breaking a single one of Lord Wyldon’s rules, I promise.”
Kally considered this a much better attempt to cheer her so she permitted herself to be caught up in a hundred shared daydreams of the fun she and Roald would have when she joined him in page training.
She had to draw on these same daydreams for strength when summer ended and she found herself in the corridor of the pages’ wing, being the target of nastily speculative stares and whispers as she waited to introduce herself like any other first-year though in her case an introduction seemed superfluous since everyone appeared to know her name.
Still, when her turn to speak came, she lifted her chin, and, grateful for all the years of etiquette instruction that ensured her tone stayed steady as a rock despite the scrutiny of Lord Wyldon and her fellow pages, announced herself. “Kalasin of Conte.”
“I’d be honored to sponsor my sister, my lord.” Roald spoke as soon as Lord Wyldon requested a volunteer to sponsor her.
“Very well, Your Highness.” Lord Wyldon gave a terse nod, and the introductions continued as Roald strode forward to stand beside her.
“You made a grand introduction,” Roald murmured in her ear, and she would have cracked a grin if it didn’t undermine the royal dignity she was striving to cultivate and didn’t risk alerting Lord Wyldon to the fact they were whispering behind his back. This would be the first secret they shared together as pages but she sensed it wouldn’t be the last.
She didn’t feel like grinning a week later when Joren of Stone Mountain, in front of her in the flood of pages streaming to their mathematics lesson, remarked to his companion with just enough volume to guarantee Kally overhead, “The princess is behind us, Garvey. She must be savage as her mother to want to train as a page.”
Kally’s hands balled but before she could tackle Joren, Roald snatched her arm, dragging her back with the hissed reminder: “We’re royalty. We can’t get into fistfights with everybody who insults us or our parents. We have to set an example of civility for others.”
“He called Mama a savage because she’s half K’miri.” Kally glared at the back of Joren’s blond head as it disappeared around a corner.
“I heard him.” Roald sighed. “We have to be better than him.”
“Because we’re royalty?” Kally grumbled.
“No.” Roald glanced at her with a hint of mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Because we aren’t savages and neither is Mama—unlike certain other pages I could name.”
“You don’t have to.” Kally’s lips quirked as her temper cooled like freshly forged iron plunged into water. “I know you’re referring to Joren of Stone Mountain and Garvey of Runnerspring.”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!