The fierce princess sat by the river under the dusk sky with bloody fists and torn dress. Her blond hair shifted with the wind gently, and the braided brunette girl sitting next to her wept softly.
The girl sobbed. "Thank you." Her voice soft and sweet.
The princess glanced at the teary girl's freckled face with her bruised and lifeless, amber eyes. "No problem." Her voice flat.
They gazed at the river, a soft and pleasant breeze came over and the grass danced with their hair and dress. The sun to their right set the sky aflame, and casted long shadows to the opposite side.
"You're so brave, fighting boys taller than you. I would never be able to even raise a fist against them," the girl said, she held her shoulders tightly.
The princess stared at her hands dripping with blood, they felt rusty and were trembling; they were once smooth and tender but are now rough and stained with blood and bruises. She laid on the grass, and sighed. "I fought kids at my old house too. Though, they never swung back."
A noblewoman must pay close attention to her skin, especially her face and hands, her father had scolded her before, and using violence to solve problems isn't lady-like. She'd listened to him well, but she couldn't help herself, the fourteen-year-old noblewoman was never good at controlling her temper, it had only gotten worse after being taken to this rural village by her father to stay away from the conflicts occurring at their noble house. But she couldn't fit in well due to the vast difference in her upbringing.
"Really?" She turned to the princess's face. "I didn't expect that."
The princess looked back at the girl. "What did you expect?"
"Well," she looked closer and touched her cheeks, "your skin is so clear and smooth, like a real princess." She noticed the black eye. "Battered princess."
She turned her eyes back to the sky. "I'm no princess. Just a doll, a convenient object for use and display. Nothing else."
"Seems like you didn't have it easy back there."
"…"
The girl fondled her skirt and looked over to the river glistening under the red sky. "My father left me when I was young, and since then my mother has been working at the local brothel, and all my friends distanced themselves from me. Then they made those awful songs mocking me." She bit her lips and her eyes watery, then turned to the princess and caught her gaze, "…they say I'll be the same as my mother."
The princess frowned and her heart trembled. "You have it pretty rough too."
She nodded, forcing the tears back.
"There has to be someone who saw you differently."
"No." The girl put her face close to the princess's. "But there is now."
A light smile came over her face and she sat up on the grass.
"There's something strange about your eyes…" the girl said after having a closer look at the princess. "Oh! There are pretty patterns in there!" she looked closer, "like, flowers."
"It's a trait of my family, everyone has them. Other nobles have a trait like this too, it's different for every house."
"I had no idea. They are so pretty. Shame one of them is bruised." They chuckled.
They gazed back at the glistening river.
"My mother died when I was born, I never got to see her," the princess said.
"Looks like we are quite similar," the girl said.
"Yeah. Father always told me how much my mother loved me, and how badly she wanted to be with me."
"He really cared about you, then."
She turned and met the girl's eyes, "you think so?"
She nodded confidently. "He wants you to know you have a mother who loves you, like everyone else."
"Then you think…he'll come back?"
"For sure he will, and if he doesn't, we will go and punch him together."
The princess let out a light chuckle. "Thanks."
The girl looked at the princess's bloody hands worryingly. "Not gonna wash them? Might get infected."
She examined her trembling hands, they felt rusty and the cuts stung in the wind; blood still dripped from her white palms, like dark red paint on a blank canvas.
"Come." She stood up and put her hand out to the princess.
She looked away. "They're dirty."
"But they saved me." She grabbed those bloody hands and pulled her up. "Look, now we are the same." She smiled as sweet as the settling sun.
The princess looked down, the girl's blood-tainted hands were warm and comfortable, and before she knew it, her hands had stopped shaking. The princess was dragged to the river and her hands were scrubbed carefully by the girl in the water, bits of blood came off and dissolve into the river. She twitched at the tingles from her hands as the girl gently scrubbed the wounds and watched the blood flow away with the current.
The princess looked at the girl, gently washing her hands so focused and tender, like a mother washing the hands of her young. She felt something itchy in the palms and let out a soft giggle. "It tickles."
The girl also giggled, and lightly scratched the princess's palms.
She let out a loud laughter. "Ah! That's too much, I'll fall!"
"Are you really ticklish?"
The princess blushed and looked away. "…No."
She got pushed over by the girl and was tickled at her sides, her hands and legs swung and kicked in the air, like a turtle that got put on its back.
"No, please, stop, I can't take it anymore," she panted heavily and her face red as an apple.
After what seemed like an eternity, she was finally let go and the girl laid next to her. "They'll be pretty mad if they find out your weakness was just tickles."
She giggled softly. "They would."
"Look, your hands are clean and pretty again."
The princess examined her hands against the sky, the blood had all be washed off and the wounds were clean, too. They were silky and slim once again, but still pricked in the wind. "There are still cuts though."
"Only dolls have perfectly smooth hands," the girl said.
She turned and held the girl's hands, they were a bit rough, and she could feel the calluses, but she did not dislike it, rather, she found it comforting. She looked up and caught the girl's gaze, her face buried in grass with the sun shining on it, lighting up her black cherry eyes and soft lips that curved up to a sweet smile.
The princess also smiled. "And they definitely don't have black eyes and bruised face."
"Or fight boys."
They laughed and watched the clouds moving slowly in the burning sky. The grass was soft and the wind chill but calm, their bodies cold but the hands they held together warm.
The princess took something from under her dress. It was an elegant silver ring with carvings on the inside, it was on a string and glittered in the red sunlight.
"This is my mother's ring; father gave it to me some time ago."
"It's beautiful," the girl said in admiration. "Why don't you wear it?"
The question seemed to trouble the princess, for she thought for long without answering. "It…doesn't feel right," she said finally.
"I hope you wear it someday, I'm sure she'll be happy."
The princess clutched the ring in her hand. "I will," she said.
"That one looks like a dog." The princess pointed to one of the clouds.
"That one is a sheep." The girl pointed at another.
"That one is a ship."
"That one looks like a duck."
"No that's a bunny, look, it's got long ears."
"No, it's a duck and those are the beaks."
"It's a Bunny."
"No, duck."
"Bunny."
"Duck!"
"Bunny!"
"You want another round?" the girl got up and shaped her hands into claws.
"Duck! Duck! It's a duck!" the princess covered her sides.
As their laughter quieted down, the princess noticed the girl was looking behind them and seemed concerned. She also heard loud chatters and messy footsteps from the same direction. It was a group of adults and children, all the kids had either a bruised eye, bloody nose, missing tooth, or a combination of the three, or all three. One of the weeping boys pointed towards the princess. "It wath her! tshe puntched me really hard!" The wimpy boy could not speak clearly due to the missing teeth.
The adults yelled and approached the two girls. Just when the princess was unsure of what to do, she was pulled up by the girl. "Come on, let's go!"
They started running hand in hand while the adults shouted and chased them along the riverbank. The dusk sky burned brighter, their shadows long and their hands cold in the chill wind. The girl laughed and her braids danced as they ran.
Life came back to her eyes. "Hey, what's your name?" Her voice lively as her ring danced on the string.
"Janet. You?"
"Mirasol."
"That's really pretty name."
"My mother gave it to me, it means sunflower."
The girl looked behind with a bright smile. "A sunflower that beats up rude boys."
They laughed hard, barely catching their breaths.
Mirasol smiled as brightly as Janet. "Nice to meet you, Janet," she said.
"Nice to meet you too, Mirasol!"
The wind got colder, the sun became redder, and dimmer and their breaths grew heavier.
"Which way to go, princess sunflower?"
She sprinted ahead of her and pulled her along. "Towards the sun, of course!"
The adults would soon catch up to them and they'll probably receive punishments, but at this moment, they laughed while running hand in hand, towards the red sun.