AN/ Okay, classes were cancelled today because of snow, so you get another
chapter, Yay! This gets kind of disturbing at the end, and uses one of the
b-words, so you have been warned. Also, I'm having trouble with italics
showing up, they won't, so now everything, like expressive speech and
thoughts that were supposed to be in italics will be bold. *grumble,
grumble, I hate bold* Lets see if it works. Enjoy everybody.
Chapter Nine - Scars
"It's pink." Estrela stood on the dressmaker's small platform, regarding the fabric in question with a scowl. Folken was loafing in a nearby chair, laughing himself sick over Estrela's expression.
"No, lady," The dressmaker said in an exasperated voice, "It is dusty rose. And it's just about all I have left considering you didn't like the lavender, the mint, the peach, the sky blue, or anything else I've shown you in the last three glass." Estrela's face turned bright red and Folken began to cackle even louder.
"Do you want to leave?" She roared at him. The prince quieted down slightly, but still wore that nauseating grin.
"It's your fault," He replied, "I wouldn't be here if you would cooperate with Mrs.Greain." Estrela shot him a look that would have made a dragon flinch, but he simply smiled.
It was not her fault, and she was cooperating. She had her reasons why she would not remove more than her jerkin for this woman, and these pastel monstrosities that were being pushed at her made her stomach churn. So there Estrela stood, in the center of a mountain of fabrics, in her white tunic and navy blue breeches, full of pins and wrapped in more measuring tapes than she could count, and the all entire scenario was being closely observed and fiercely mocked by her supposed friend, Folken.
"Fine, I'll be good. You," Estrela commanded, pointing a finger in the prince's direction, "Out." He opened his mouth, to begin a protest no doubt, but was silenced by a curt gesture from Mrs.Greain, the seamstress.
"You heard the lady, my prince. Out." Folken's gaze shifted from Estrela to the craggy old woman and back again, then he let out a defeated huff and stood from his chair,
"If you will excuse me then, ladies," He said flatly, turning for the exit,
"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," Estrela called after him, then giggled as he glared at her over his shoulder. Mrs.Greain, the crotchety old bat, made a tsk sound in the back of her throat as she scurried around the room, searching for another hopeful fabric candidate. Estrela allowed her eyes to wander, she was so bored. Folken had been right, it was never too late for the crown prince. Despite the huge demand for dresses right before the harvest ball, he had managed to schedule a fitting for her eight moons before the ball, today. Then she saw it. While idly searching the room with her eyes, Estrela spotted exactly what she wanted.
"Excuse me," She said loudly. Mrs.Greain popped out from behind a huge pile of cloth, all in various shades of pink. Estrela repressed a shudder. "What about that?" She asked, pointing to a half hidden bolt of silvery grey fabric in a far corner. The seamstress looked to where Estrela had motioned, then bustled over on her stocky little legs.
"This?" She asked, holding up a roll of periwinkle cloth,
"No, the silver," Estrela said, motioning again, "It's right behind you." The squat woman turned and regarded the material.
"It is rather nice," She mused, shuffling back toward Estrela. The woman held it up to Estrela's chest, tilting her head back to check the hue. "This would be easier if you would take those glasses off," The woman complained, "I can't tell the colour of your eyes,"
"They are black." Estrela said shortly, becoming very uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.
"Black?" Mrs.Greain exclaimed, "How unusual! I don't suppose you would let me see? I've done dresses for every complection and colouring, but I've yet to see a lady with black eyes," The woman had lost her harsh demeanor, and Estrela felt like she was actually trying to be kind, and was truly interested. What do I have to loose?
"Alright," Estrela said with a bit of a sigh, "If you really want to see. But please don't be frightened. My eyes tend to disturb people. . ." Mrs.Greain stepped back, bolt of fabric in hand, and gave Estrela a wiry smile,
"I've seen quite a few things in my day, lady. I don't think black eyes will bother me too greatly,"
"If you say so," Estrela said, raising her hand to her face. Before she removed her glasses, Estrela closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She still wasn't sure that this was a good idea.
Slowly, Estrela opened her eyes and turned to face Mrs.Greain. The look on the woman's face was nothing Estrela would have anticipated. She expected shock, fear, maybe even disgust, but not the wonder, the absolute awe she saw on the woman's features.
"You - You're absolutely beautiful!" The dressmaker cried, bringing her free hand to her mouth, "Why would you want to hide eyes like those?" Estrela was speechless, no one, besides her family, and Folken, though never outright, had ever called her beautiful. Estrela was very confused.
"You don't know what the Cisne are, do you Mrs.Greain?"
"The what?" Now it was making a bit more sense, the woman knew nothing of her people.
"Never mind Mrs.Greain," Estrela said with a small smile, "thank you for the compliment. Now, how about that fabric?"
About a glass later found Estrela outside the dress shop where Folken waited. She felt better now, with her jerkin back on and the exhaustion of the fitting over with. Mrs. Greain had told her that her dress would be ready in two moons, and had promised, after Estrela's coxing, to keep the frills to a minimum.
"Finally," Folken breathed, straightening from where he leant against an overhang. It was getting colder, and cloaks were required for a comfortable market experience. Estrela adjusted hers, its thick brown wool a familiar comfort, and raised an eyebrow at Folken. "I didn't know getting an outfit for a ball could take that long," He continued. Estrela gave him a mischievous smile,
"You think we're done?" A groan was all she received in response.
The rest of the day was spent shopping for accessories and the like, none of which Folken were allowed to see. No matter how much he begged, Estrela would show him nothing, not even tell him the colour of her dress. It was hilarious.
At last, just as the sun was setting, they began the walk back to castle. Both Folken's and Estrela's arms were loaded with boxes and bags, well, only boxes for Folken because bags were to easy to peek into. The decorations around the city were wondrous, even in the fading light, and the air was crisp, not damp. Festivities would begin in two days, and the mood of the entire country was filled with anticipation and excitement. Folken had told her that the only celebration which was more looked forward to was the Midwinter Festival, which would take place the last week of Green and the first week of Black. Estrela had been confused by that, but then Folken had explained the differences between Fanelian and other calendars, such as Asturian. Estreal had found it fascinating, especially that Fanelian New Years did not begin until the first moon of Green, or rather, White on their calendar, whereas most other places began their New Years in Black. Estrela realized that it could become very bewildering if you weren't careful.
They were almost to the gates now, and the guard rushed to open them. Estrela was glad to be back, the day had been very tiring, and, as she had slowly been beginning to realize, she liked it at the Fanelian palace, it was almost like her home now. That was a warm thought, and Estrela couldn't stop herself from smiling.
They made their way inside and Folken walked Estrela to her new chambers, larger than she had when she first arrived, and all done in a forest green theme. She loved them, she now had a good sized bedroom, a larger bath, and a sitting area. It was the best she had ever lived.
"Come on in," she said to Folken as he held the door open for her. Estrela walked through the sitting room and into her sleeping quarters. "Set those packages on the bed please," She said briskly, opening the dark mahogany armoire and tucking her bags inside. She then turned back around to see Folken rooting through one of her boxes. Estrela was about to yell at him for not respecting her privacy when she saw him stiffen, slamming the lid back on the box and turning away from the bed. When he saw that she had noticed him, Folken turned the brightest shade of red Estrela thought possible, and began to stutter unintelligibly.
"Shush," She silenced him abruptly and moved to see what he had been digging through. The prince tried to block her path, but she was too quick, grabbing hold of the box and flitting to the other side of the room before he could catch her. Pulling the lid off the offending package, Estrela found the new underclothes she had bought that morning. He had found her panties. Estrela found the whole situation far to funny to be embarrassed, but Folken apparently did not feel the same,
"Estrela," He managed to stammer, "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know what it was. . . Oh, I'm so sorry!" Estrela couldn't help herself, she burst into uncontrollable laughter. Folken looked very bewildered now, which made Estrela laugh harder. It took her a moment to recover, holding her sides and wiping her eyes.
"I hope you have learned something today," She wheezed suddenly, "About privacy." Folken frowned at her, his brows knitting together,
"I've learned that you can be quite mean." He replied, crossing his arms,
"Now come on," Estrela said, moving toward the prince again, setting the box back on the bed. The way Folken's eyes avoided it was sidesplitting, and almost put Estrela into giggles again, "Don't be like that. It was funny," Estrela gathered up all of the packages lying atop her mattress, placing them in her closet along with everything else, and dropping her cloak and jerkin inside as well. She straightened to see Folken still glaring at her. Estrela huffed, "What could I do to make you feel better? You seem very. . . distraught," She punctuated the last word with a small snicker, and the prince's scowl deepened. She moved to stand beside the night table, hands on her hips, "Oh, come on Folken! You can't take a joke- ah!" Estrela shrieked as she was tackled onto the bed, long fingers appearing out of nowhere to mercilessly tickle her sides and stomach. She was breathless, she was pinned, she couldn't stop laughing. Then it hit her.
"Folken!" She wailed, her voice suddenly serious and pain filled, "Stop! Please!" He was off her in an instant, and Estrela curled into a protective ball on the disheveled mattress.
"Estrela!" Folken cried, kneeling beside her on the bed, "Estrela what's wrong?" He was absolutely terrified, completely confused, but Estrela registered none of this, locked in a cell of agony. It never hurt this much, not since it first happened. . . Gods what was wrong, why did it hurt so badly?
Folken, having received no response, rushed toward the door to call for help, but Estrela's weak voice stopped him in his tracks.
"F-Folken. . . Folken, don't. . . I'm fine, really." Estrela tried to sit up, but the pain was not lessening. God Gods, there was something very wrong,
"Estrela," Folken exclaimed again, rushing over to support her, "What happened? Oh, Gods Estrela, what's wrong?" He seemed so afraid, and that hurt Estrela even more. She should have told him, he deserved to know, but she couldn't, still couldn't. . .
"I-I have an old injury. . . sometimes it hurts, never like this though," Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as she leaned against the prince.
"Where? How? Why?" Estrela let out a small hiss of distress and her eyes fluttered shut,
"Please, don't ask questions right now. . . just hold me. . ." Folken was still in a panic, but kept motionless with his arms wrapped lightly around Estrela as her breathing slowly evened out. After a few long moments her eyes opened, and she straightened slightly, very stiffly, away from the prince,
"Thank you," She said, her voice still small and weak, "It's easing off a little now,"
"What happened, can you tell me now?"
"I told you, it's and old injury. It's nothing to worry about, sometimes it just hurts,"
"It's more than that Estrela, you were in agony. Please, tell me. I thought you trusted me," The last statement cut Estrela very deeply, I'm making him doubt himself, doubt our friendship . . .
"I do trust you Folken, it's just . . . these wounds are very painful to talk about, and they happened a long time ago. I've tried to forget, put it all behind me. It normally doesn't hurt me that bad anyway, I don't know what happened this time . . ." Folken still looked unconvinced and hurt, but Estrela couldn't say anymore. The pain in her back and sides was receding, but the growing tightness in her chest at the memories was just as bad. "Please, just give me time. I will tell you all about it, as soon as I can. I promise." She managed a weak smile, "Right now though, I'd really like to rest. You could . . .um . . .you could stay if you wanted . . ." The prince's expression softened,
"Of course I'll stay. You scared me so much I don't think I'll ever be able to let you out of my sight again anyway," He began to stand, "I'll leave you to sleep, I'll just read or something . . ."
"Folken, please. Could you just stay in here please? I really need to be close to somebody right now" Estrela knew she was blushing fiercely, but she wanted to be near someone. Folken sat back down, regarding her kindly,
"What do you want me to do?" He asked
"Just lay back, please," The prince complied, lying back against the goose pillows and headboard. Estrela moved, still shaking visibly, to lie beside him. After an uneasy moment, Folken reached out with his strong arms and pulled Estrela toward him, holding her gently while she trembled. He rubbed her back lightly, and Estrela knew he could feel the deep scars crisscrossing under her shirt, but he said nothing. Estrela was never more relieved. Slowly, the sharp pain disappeared, leaving only the constant ache she had become so accustomed to. It was utter bliss compared to a moment ago. She slid closer to the prince, resting her head on his shoulder and placing a single hand on his arm,
"Thank you. . ." She whispered before falling into sleep.
She was hanging by her arms, the leather cord tied about her wrists was biting into her skin and her shoulders almost out of joint. But that was nothing compared to the screaming of her back as the cane hit her again and again. She had long ago abandoned her oath not to cry out and each welt was accompanied by a bloodcurdling screech. She felt the familiar sticky warmth run down her back and legs, to pool on the floor below her, the floor her feet could not touch. The chanting voices around her became a hum against the pain, but that one, that one vile hiss of a voice, always broke through the haze of agony . . .
"Say it, demon. Say it and it will end quickly, and you will be sent back to the underworld where you belong." That voice, so filled with hate, with malice. It took what little strength Estrela had left to find her speech,
"Vá ao inferno, bastardo" Go to hell, bastard
Then the world fell into darkness.
AN/ Oh no, creepy, sad, going to get worse. For more information on the Gaean Calendar, visit Sarah-neko's site, Prettyboy from Hell (shrine to Dilandau) and go to the 'Scars on the Heart' section. While you're at it, why don't you read the story, or visit more of her sites? Escaboys is cool, I love her Folken, Gaddes, and Dryden shrines. Come on, tell her Gabe sent you, so maybe she'll come read this *^_^* Also, Hya there Empress! I love your story, and I love how good you are to review *^_^* And a big thanks to everybody else who reviewed, you guys are great. Ta all.
Chapter Nine - Scars
"It's pink." Estrela stood on the dressmaker's small platform, regarding the fabric in question with a scowl. Folken was loafing in a nearby chair, laughing himself sick over Estrela's expression.
"No, lady," The dressmaker said in an exasperated voice, "It is dusty rose. And it's just about all I have left considering you didn't like the lavender, the mint, the peach, the sky blue, or anything else I've shown you in the last three glass." Estrela's face turned bright red and Folken began to cackle even louder.
"Do you want to leave?" She roared at him. The prince quieted down slightly, but still wore that nauseating grin.
"It's your fault," He replied, "I wouldn't be here if you would cooperate with Mrs.Greain." Estrela shot him a look that would have made a dragon flinch, but he simply smiled.
It was not her fault, and she was cooperating. She had her reasons why she would not remove more than her jerkin for this woman, and these pastel monstrosities that were being pushed at her made her stomach churn. So there Estrela stood, in the center of a mountain of fabrics, in her white tunic and navy blue breeches, full of pins and wrapped in more measuring tapes than she could count, and the all entire scenario was being closely observed and fiercely mocked by her supposed friend, Folken.
"Fine, I'll be good. You," Estrela commanded, pointing a finger in the prince's direction, "Out." He opened his mouth, to begin a protest no doubt, but was silenced by a curt gesture from Mrs.Greain, the seamstress.
"You heard the lady, my prince. Out." Folken's gaze shifted from Estrela to the craggy old woman and back again, then he let out a defeated huff and stood from his chair,
"If you will excuse me then, ladies," He said flatly, turning for the exit,
"Don't let the door hit you on your way out," Estrela called after him, then giggled as he glared at her over his shoulder. Mrs.Greain, the crotchety old bat, made a tsk sound in the back of her throat as she scurried around the room, searching for another hopeful fabric candidate. Estrela allowed her eyes to wander, she was so bored. Folken had been right, it was never too late for the crown prince. Despite the huge demand for dresses right before the harvest ball, he had managed to schedule a fitting for her eight moons before the ball, today. Then she saw it. While idly searching the room with her eyes, Estrela spotted exactly what she wanted.
"Excuse me," She said loudly. Mrs.Greain popped out from behind a huge pile of cloth, all in various shades of pink. Estrela repressed a shudder. "What about that?" She asked, pointing to a half hidden bolt of silvery grey fabric in a far corner. The seamstress looked to where Estrela had motioned, then bustled over on her stocky little legs.
"This?" She asked, holding up a roll of periwinkle cloth,
"No, the silver," Estrela said, motioning again, "It's right behind you." The squat woman turned and regarded the material.
"It is rather nice," She mused, shuffling back toward Estrela. The woman held it up to Estrela's chest, tilting her head back to check the hue. "This would be easier if you would take those glasses off," The woman complained, "I can't tell the colour of your eyes,"
"They are black." Estrela said shortly, becoming very uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.
"Black?" Mrs.Greain exclaimed, "How unusual! I don't suppose you would let me see? I've done dresses for every complection and colouring, but I've yet to see a lady with black eyes," The woman had lost her harsh demeanor, and Estrela felt like she was actually trying to be kind, and was truly interested. What do I have to loose?
"Alright," Estrela said with a bit of a sigh, "If you really want to see. But please don't be frightened. My eyes tend to disturb people. . ." Mrs.Greain stepped back, bolt of fabric in hand, and gave Estrela a wiry smile,
"I've seen quite a few things in my day, lady. I don't think black eyes will bother me too greatly,"
"If you say so," Estrela said, raising her hand to her face. Before she removed her glasses, Estrela closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She still wasn't sure that this was a good idea.
Slowly, Estrela opened her eyes and turned to face Mrs.Greain. The look on the woman's face was nothing Estrela would have anticipated. She expected shock, fear, maybe even disgust, but not the wonder, the absolute awe she saw on the woman's features.
"You - You're absolutely beautiful!" The dressmaker cried, bringing her free hand to her mouth, "Why would you want to hide eyes like those?" Estrela was speechless, no one, besides her family, and Folken, though never outright, had ever called her beautiful. Estrela was very confused.
"You don't know what the Cisne are, do you Mrs.Greain?"
"The what?" Now it was making a bit more sense, the woman knew nothing of her people.
"Never mind Mrs.Greain," Estrela said with a small smile, "thank you for the compliment. Now, how about that fabric?"
About a glass later found Estrela outside the dress shop where Folken waited. She felt better now, with her jerkin back on and the exhaustion of the fitting over with. Mrs. Greain had told her that her dress would be ready in two moons, and had promised, after Estrela's coxing, to keep the frills to a minimum.
"Finally," Folken breathed, straightening from where he leant against an overhang. It was getting colder, and cloaks were required for a comfortable market experience. Estrela adjusted hers, its thick brown wool a familiar comfort, and raised an eyebrow at Folken. "I didn't know getting an outfit for a ball could take that long," He continued. Estrela gave him a mischievous smile,
"You think we're done?" A groan was all she received in response.
The rest of the day was spent shopping for accessories and the like, none of which Folken were allowed to see. No matter how much he begged, Estrela would show him nothing, not even tell him the colour of her dress. It was hilarious.
At last, just as the sun was setting, they began the walk back to castle. Both Folken's and Estrela's arms were loaded with boxes and bags, well, only boxes for Folken because bags were to easy to peek into. The decorations around the city were wondrous, even in the fading light, and the air was crisp, not damp. Festivities would begin in two days, and the mood of the entire country was filled with anticipation and excitement. Folken had told her that the only celebration which was more looked forward to was the Midwinter Festival, which would take place the last week of Green and the first week of Black. Estrela had been confused by that, but then Folken had explained the differences between Fanelian and other calendars, such as Asturian. Estreal had found it fascinating, especially that Fanelian New Years did not begin until the first moon of Green, or rather, White on their calendar, whereas most other places began their New Years in Black. Estrela realized that it could become very bewildering if you weren't careful.
They were almost to the gates now, and the guard rushed to open them. Estrela was glad to be back, the day had been very tiring, and, as she had slowly been beginning to realize, she liked it at the Fanelian palace, it was almost like her home now. That was a warm thought, and Estrela couldn't stop herself from smiling.
They made their way inside and Folken walked Estrela to her new chambers, larger than she had when she first arrived, and all done in a forest green theme. She loved them, she now had a good sized bedroom, a larger bath, and a sitting area. It was the best she had ever lived.
"Come on in," she said to Folken as he held the door open for her. Estrela walked through the sitting room and into her sleeping quarters. "Set those packages on the bed please," She said briskly, opening the dark mahogany armoire and tucking her bags inside. She then turned back around to see Folken rooting through one of her boxes. Estrela was about to yell at him for not respecting her privacy when she saw him stiffen, slamming the lid back on the box and turning away from the bed. When he saw that she had noticed him, Folken turned the brightest shade of red Estrela thought possible, and began to stutter unintelligibly.
"Shush," She silenced him abruptly and moved to see what he had been digging through. The prince tried to block her path, but she was too quick, grabbing hold of the box and flitting to the other side of the room before he could catch her. Pulling the lid off the offending package, Estrela found the new underclothes she had bought that morning. He had found her panties. Estrela found the whole situation far to funny to be embarrassed, but Folken apparently did not feel the same,
"Estrela," He managed to stammer, "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know what it was. . . Oh, I'm so sorry!" Estrela couldn't help herself, she burst into uncontrollable laughter. Folken looked very bewildered now, which made Estrela laugh harder. It took her a moment to recover, holding her sides and wiping her eyes.
"I hope you have learned something today," She wheezed suddenly, "About privacy." Folken frowned at her, his brows knitting together,
"I've learned that you can be quite mean." He replied, crossing his arms,
"Now come on," Estrela said, moving toward the prince again, setting the box back on the bed. The way Folken's eyes avoided it was sidesplitting, and almost put Estrela into giggles again, "Don't be like that. It was funny," Estrela gathered up all of the packages lying atop her mattress, placing them in her closet along with everything else, and dropping her cloak and jerkin inside as well. She straightened to see Folken still glaring at her. Estrela huffed, "What could I do to make you feel better? You seem very. . . distraught," She punctuated the last word with a small snicker, and the prince's scowl deepened. She moved to stand beside the night table, hands on her hips, "Oh, come on Folken! You can't take a joke- ah!" Estrela shrieked as she was tackled onto the bed, long fingers appearing out of nowhere to mercilessly tickle her sides and stomach. She was breathless, she was pinned, she couldn't stop laughing. Then it hit her.
"Folken!" She wailed, her voice suddenly serious and pain filled, "Stop! Please!" He was off her in an instant, and Estrela curled into a protective ball on the disheveled mattress.
"Estrela!" Folken cried, kneeling beside her on the bed, "Estrela what's wrong?" He was absolutely terrified, completely confused, but Estrela registered none of this, locked in a cell of agony. It never hurt this much, not since it first happened. . . Gods what was wrong, why did it hurt so badly?
Folken, having received no response, rushed toward the door to call for help, but Estrela's weak voice stopped him in his tracks.
"F-Folken. . . Folken, don't. . . I'm fine, really." Estrela tried to sit up, but the pain was not lessening. God Gods, there was something very wrong,
"Estrela," Folken exclaimed again, rushing over to support her, "What happened? Oh, Gods Estrela, what's wrong?" He seemed so afraid, and that hurt Estrela even more. She should have told him, he deserved to know, but she couldn't, still couldn't. . .
"I-I have an old injury. . . sometimes it hurts, never like this though," Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as she leaned against the prince.
"Where? How? Why?" Estrela let out a small hiss of distress and her eyes fluttered shut,
"Please, don't ask questions right now. . . just hold me. . ." Folken was still in a panic, but kept motionless with his arms wrapped lightly around Estrela as her breathing slowly evened out. After a few long moments her eyes opened, and she straightened slightly, very stiffly, away from the prince,
"Thank you," She said, her voice still small and weak, "It's easing off a little now,"
"What happened, can you tell me now?"
"I told you, it's and old injury. It's nothing to worry about, sometimes it just hurts,"
"It's more than that Estrela, you were in agony. Please, tell me. I thought you trusted me," The last statement cut Estrela very deeply, I'm making him doubt himself, doubt our friendship . . .
"I do trust you Folken, it's just . . . these wounds are very painful to talk about, and they happened a long time ago. I've tried to forget, put it all behind me. It normally doesn't hurt me that bad anyway, I don't know what happened this time . . ." Folken still looked unconvinced and hurt, but Estrela couldn't say anymore. The pain in her back and sides was receding, but the growing tightness in her chest at the memories was just as bad. "Please, just give me time. I will tell you all about it, as soon as I can. I promise." She managed a weak smile, "Right now though, I'd really like to rest. You could . . .um . . .you could stay if you wanted . . ." The prince's expression softened,
"Of course I'll stay. You scared me so much I don't think I'll ever be able to let you out of my sight again anyway," He began to stand, "I'll leave you to sleep, I'll just read or something . . ."
"Folken, please. Could you just stay in here please? I really need to be close to somebody right now" Estrela knew she was blushing fiercely, but she wanted to be near someone. Folken sat back down, regarding her kindly,
"What do you want me to do?" He asked
"Just lay back, please," The prince complied, lying back against the goose pillows and headboard. Estrela moved, still shaking visibly, to lie beside him. After an uneasy moment, Folken reached out with his strong arms and pulled Estrela toward him, holding her gently while she trembled. He rubbed her back lightly, and Estrela knew he could feel the deep scars crisscrossing under her shirt, but he said nothing. Estrela was never more relieved. Slowly, the sharp pain disappeared, leaving only the constant ache she had become so accustomed to. It was utter bliss compared to a moment ago. She slid closer to the prince, resting her head on his shoulder and placing a single hand on his arm,
"Thank you. . ." She whispered before falling into sleep.
She was hanging by her arms, the leather cord tied about her wrists was biting into her skin and her shoulders almost out of joint. But that was nothing compared to the screaming of her back as the cane hit her again and again. She had long ago abandoned her oath not to cry out and each welt was accompanied by a bloodcurdling screech. She felt the familiar sticky warmth run down her back and legs, to pool on the floor below her, the floor her feet could not touch. The chanting voices around her became a hum against the pain, but that one, that one vile hiss of a voice, always broke through the haze of agony . . .
"Say it, demon. Say it and it will end quickly, and you will be sent back to the underworld where you belong." That voice, so filled with hate, with malice. It took what little strength Estrela had left to find her speech,
"Vá ao inferno, bastardo" Go to hell, bastard
Then the world fell into darkness.
AN/ Oh no, creepy, sad, going to get worse. For more information on the Gaean Calendar, visit Sarah-neko's site, Prettyboy from Hell (shrine to Dilandau) and go to the 'Scars on the Heart' section. While you're at it, why don't you read the story, or visit more of her sites? Escaboys is cool, I love her Folken, Gaddes, and Dryden shrines. Come on, tell her Gabe sent you, so maybe she'll come read this *^_^* Also, Hya there Empress! I love your story, and I love how good you are to review *^_^* And a big thanks to everybody else who reviewed, you guys are great. Ta all.