Edyt was terrified. The nurse responsible for Æthelwold was glowering at her. Twelve year old Odda stood behind her holding a cloth to his bloody nose and the aetheling had a black eye. Edyt being four years younger than the boys, looked much worse off than either of them. There was a gash across her temple and her lip was bleeding. Her dress was torn, one sleeve hung loose at her wrist exposing her shoulder. At eight years old, Edyt knew assaulting the King was death and could only assume the same applied to his son. The nurse leaned forward to grab her arm. Edyt instinctively stepped backwards, panic rising when she hit something soft. Hands gripped her shoulder to steady her, before resting there. Edyt looked to see the Lady Aelswith looking at the nurse with a sour expression.
"My Lady," the nurse said, bowing slightly. Young Odda did the same, before pulling Æthelwold out of the courtyard. He did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Edyt's fingers curled into the skirt of Aelswith's dress. Aelswith could feel the young girl trembling slightly against her legs and brought a soothing hand up to Edyt's hair.
"Edyt," she said, finally taking her eyes off the nurse, "are you okay?" Edyt nodded, pressing herself farther back against Aelswith's legs, not wanting to turn her back on the nurse. "Good. What happened?"
"She-" the nurse started. Aelswith glared at her.
"I don't believe I was speaking to you," she snapped, before turning back to Edyt. The small blonde took a deep breath, looking back up. Aelswith stroked her hair, Edyt opened her mouth and closed it again.
"They said we were going to play a game. They were going to be warriors and I had to be a Dane. I didn't want to play," Edyt sniffed, wiping her nose on the sleeve that hung around her wrist. She was clearly trying not to cry. "I said I'd play later, but I didn't want to be a Dane. I was going to meet you for prayers and," Edyt took another deep breath shaking again, "they pushed me from behind. Æthelwold said that Danes can't say no to Saxons and they pushed me again and," her voice broke and she turned, wrapping her arms around Aelswith and burying her face in her dress, unable to stop her tears. Aelswith held her for a moment before telling the nurse to go fetch some water and some rags. She moved them to sit on a stone bench. She wrapped her arms around the girl and pressed a comforting kiss to her forehead.
"Æthelwold is a frightful little weasel," she whispered to Edyt, attempting to make her smile. "May God help Wessex if he is to inherit the throne." Edyt giggled, flinching as her smile tugged at her split lip.
"He's a damn arseling," she muttered, "Young Odda too."
"Edyt! A lady doesn't speak like that," she scolded her. Edyt shot her a sheepish grin and Aelswith couldn't but smile back. The nurse returned with the supplies and Aelswith took them, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. Aelswith helped her clean the blood and dirt from her face.