WTFBT Anthology: Brea Ayers | 484 SM

Frost Moon, 484 SM

Waterbrook, the Riverlands

Her constant frown caused the muscles on her face to ache. That’s all I can do today, she thought angrily, stomping down the stairs in the Water Castle. Today would be one of the worst days in Brea Ayers' life, and she could do nothing about it. 

She stopped her march, groaning. Why am I acting like a child over this? She stared at the dark blue dress she wore for the awful day. She had attempted to wear black, but her father, King Alen Ayers, wouldn’t allow it. Today is a day of mourning. Brea wanted to tell her father. Jarin is marrying that witch. 

Dimia Osmont embodied the perfect image of House Osmont—beautiful, arrogant, and untrustworthy. It pained Brea to see how much her little brother loved that wretched girl. What does Jarin see in her? All Brea could see were Dimia’s lies and vanity. Wait, I caught Dimia kissing one of the groomsmen the other day. Her everlasting frown deepened. What if I told someone? She sighed, knowing that wouldn’t work. Dimia could be caught sleeping with a horse, and Father would still demand the marriage continue. How little does he value his youngest son? Brea shook her head, not understanding her Father’s intentions, and continued her trek. 

When she reached the end, she sat at the bottom of the stairs, exhausted. She leaned over, putting her head in her hands to relax. It looks like it will storm today, she observed half-heartedly, staring at the floor-length window that looked out to Lainey’s Port. Does that mean Obum opposes this marriage, too, or is he celebrating? 

She hated this; she hated all of this. 

I want to run away. Brea perked her head up at the thought. What if I run away and take Jarin with me? Why didn’t I think of this before? She suppressed her excitement and looked out the window again to think. The wedding is in a few hours. We will get caught if I try to leave with Jarin right now. Shit, he might even refuse to come with me, and I won’t have time to convince him. She tapped a finger on her cheek. If we postpone the wedding and disappear tonight, we might be hours away before they realize. And if it rains, it will wash away our scent. 

She sighed again, knowing no plan she concocted would work, but still, she wanted to try anyway. Should I let the marriage happen? No, Father will want the marriage to be consummated as soon as they are wedded. She shivered. Thinking about her sweet brother sleeping with that Osmont girl made Brea want to hurl. 

I must stop this wedding from happening.

She stood and went to the only place where she could delay the marriage. Dimia’s room, she thought, smiling wickedly. If I ruin the ceremonial dress, Father will postpone the wedding. She reached Dimia’s room and exhaled before entering. It’s Mother’s dress, but I must do something for Jarin’s sake. 

The wedding gown was laid on the bed inside the room for the later festivities. It’s beautiful, Brea thought, approaching. She lightly touched the beads and crystals sewn onto the bodice and grabbed the tulle sleeve. This was supposed to be my dress, but because of Father, no one wants to marry me. Her heart broke at the realization. Dimia doesn’t deserve this. She pulled, and the sound of fabric ripping made her chuckle. The wedding will be delayed now. She grabbed the other sleeve and tugged.       

“What are you doing?”

Brea froze in place. Was someone here? No one should be on this side of the castle for another hour. Slowly, she turned and saw her best friend, Malonne, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. I haven’t seen her in over a week. Brea sighed, relaxing. “Malonne.”

“Don’t Malonne me,” the handmaiden snapped, rushing into the room. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m destroying the dress,” Brea confessed quietly, moving out of the way.

Malonne gasped and studied the damage. “Why would you do such a thing? Your father is going to send you away.”

“Well, I won’t be here,” Brea pouted, causing Malonne to gasp again. “If I can postpone the wedding, I’m running away with Jarin tonight.”

The handmaiden stared at Brea’s determined face. “You’re going to leave me?”

“I’m sorry,” Brea exhaled, giving her friend a kind smile. “I wish you could come, but you’re not my handmaiden anymore. You’re Dimia’s now, remember?”

Malonne’s eyes brimmed with tears. “None of that matters to me! The Crimson Wicked is awful. She’s cruel, vain, and lustful.” 

Cruel? Vain? Lustful? Malonne had never described Dimia in that way. “Has she hit you?”

Malonne nodded as the tears flowed. “She’s critical of my work, and anytime I mess up, she smacks me like I’m some dog. And she always finds something wrong with what I do. She even calls me your leftovers because of our previous relationship,” Malonne whispered, looking away. “She’s slept with all the handmaidens and some servants but refuses to touch me. She hates me.” 

Brea stood there with her mouth open. All the handmaidens and some of the servants. 

“And she doesn’t even love them,” Malonne continued. “They beg for her attention, and she pays them no mind. She’s always looking for something new.”

“Do you beg for her attention?” 

Malonne half-laughed, “Why would I beg that witch for her attention? I want your attention.”  

Brea blushed but said nothing. I want your attention, too. She could never say the words aloud; her father wouldn’t allow it. Father saw Malonne kiss me and punished us by sending her to Dimia. Her stomach ached as she reminisced about Malonne’s sweet kisses. “Runaway with me.”

“I can’t,” the handmaiden replied instantly, blushing. “Neither of us can. You know this. You don’t want Jarin to marry her, but he must. And you must allow it.” 

Brea Ayers looked at the tiled floor. From the moment she devised her plan, she knew it would fail. No matter what I do, Jarin will marry Dimia, she groaned, relenting. “Aye.”

Malonne closed the distance between them and kissed Brea lightly. 

Brea stared into the girl’s dark brown eyes and sighed longingly. She swiped her fingers against Malonne’s lips and leaned in. Their second kiss lingered, and Malonne stepped away. 

The handmaiden brought her hands to her face to cover her reddening cheeks and looked back at the dress. “You ought to leave. I’ll fix the dress.”

Brea quickly kissed Malonne on the forehead before the handmaiden could protest. “Thank you,” she told her friend, and Malonne smiled. 

***

Brea sat before a mirror and brushed through her short, thick black hair, prepping for the inevitable. I wish there were something I could do. Her vision narrowed on her plain facial features. I should’ve listened to Domeric and befriended the highborn, gaining their favor. Or listened to Father and marry, solidifying an alliance. I would’ve had the power to do something to stop this wedding. Yet I didn’t. I did this myself. 

A knock came on her door. “What is it?” she questioned, clearing her throat. 

“Um,” a quiet voice started. “Lady Osmont wishes to see you.” 

Brea stood, her hands and legs already shaking. Dimia wants to see me? She swung open the door and looked at the terrified little maiden who stood on the other side. “What does she want?”

The young girl lowered her head. “She told me not to say.”

“What does she want?”

The maiden pressed her lips together and faced Brea. “Malonne.”

Brea raced to Dimia’s dressing room. What did Dimia do to Malonne? She held up her skirts and ran faster, bumping into people with trays of food and flowers for the wedding, but she didn’t care. I have to get to Malonne.  

Brea opened Dimia’s room door and gasped. Malonne was tied to a post, naked, and beaten. Tears filled Brea’s eyes. What is this? She rushed to her best friend and grabbed the girl’s limp head. “Malonne,” she called. “Malonne, stay with me.”  

The door behind her clicked shut. 

“Sister Brea,” Dimia purred, and Brea stood straight to face the girl. Dimia strutted across the room with a mocking smile. “Isn’t this sight wonderful?”

Brea tried to stay calm. “What happened?”

Dimia waved Brea off. “Don’t worry about the worthless, Sister,”

“I’m not you’re fucking sister!” Brea screamed, straining from the rage. “Now what happened?”

Dimia pouted, unfazed by the outburst. “This stupid monkey ripped the sleeves of my wedding dress and thought I wouldn’t notice, but don’t worry, I’m handling the situation myself without informing King Ayers.” Dimia gave a sly smile and stepped into Brea’s personal space. “That’s what you would want, right, Sister Brea?” 

Brea reared her head back and looked away, saying nothing. This is all my fault. I was nothing but stubborn, and now Malonne is in agony. She turned to see her friend staring back, breathing raggedly, leaning against the wooden post Dimia had chained her to. Blood dripped down Malonne’s body from the lashings, and chunks of her hair had been ripped and cut off. A busted lip, split eyebrow, bruises, scrapes, cuts—the Osmont girl did not hold back on her punishment. Why would Dimia do something like this? It’s inhumane. Brea’s attention flickered back to the confident girl, her fear rising. If she can do this kind of damage at sixteen, what kind of woman will she become?  

“Sister Brea, why do you look so sad? This thing is nothing but a maiden.” 

When Brea didn’t respond, Dimia pushed past her and whipped Malonne with all her strength. “Please stop!” Malonne cried over Dimia’s giggles. 

Brea emotionlessly watched as the teenager wildly whipped the person she loved. Why does it have to be this way? She gathered her courage, knowing she had to get Malonne out of the situation. “What happened to you?” she asked, making Dimia pause. “I have never seen you behave this way.”

Dimia wiped the sweat from her brow and exhaled heavily. “I will become queen one day. I must show authority.”

Brea shook her head. “Tell the truth.”

Dimia narrowed her eyes and shifted her position to her hips. “Today is going to be the worst day of my life. I need to let off a little steam. It could have been anybody, and Malonne presented herself with her mistake, and I couldn’t help it. I thought you would enjoy whipping her, too,” she looked away from Brea and blushed lightly. “I thought we could bond a bit today. Since you’re going to be my sister.”

“You wanted to bond by beating someone,” Brea roared. “I’ll never acknowledge such a violent person as my sister! You must change your ways, Dimia! Your handmaiden should be your best friend. You should have trust and confidence in them.” She turned to Malonne and wiped her wet cheeks. “You should love your handmaiden.” Malonne slowly lifted her head and looked at Brea. “You should cherish the moments you spend with your handmaiden forever.” 

“But the king said,”

“Fuck the king!” Brea interrupted. “The king knows nothing!” She looked to the floor and tried to calm herself. Don’t think about Father right now. Get Malonne out of this situation first. She looked Dimia directly into her crystal blue eyes. “Please, let her go.”

The door opened, and Domeric strolled into the room. 

“Domeric!” Dimia yelled, running to cover herself. 

The hero is here, Brea thought sarcastically as her older brother headed straight to Malonne. He unshackled the handmaiden and lifted her in one swift movement. Then, he turned on his heels and walked to the door. “Come with me, Brea.” He commanded sternly.

Brea straightened her back and quietly followed. 

“No!” the Osmont girl wailed. “I wasn’t done having a conversation with you!”

Brea paused and turned back to Dimia as Domeric exited. Dimia is complaining that I am leaving. She doesn’t care that Domeric took Malonne. Was all this a way to get my attention? Brea looked at the girl with pity. “Good luck today,” she told Dimia and left the bedchamber.   

Outside the room, Domeric examined the beaten handmaiden. “Malonne,” he called, lightly touching the girl’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll be okay,” Malonne replied, placing her hand on his. “Thank you for saving me.”

Brea frowned jealously. “Father told Dimia to beat her handmaidens when they misbehave,” she informed, partially lying. 

“I will end the marriage when I become king,” Domeric tried to reassure, still stroking Malonne’s hair as servants rushed toward them.

“You must become king now!” Brea countered. “Father will drag the Riverlands to the Underworld with this war. Please, take over and become king. Save House Ayers.”

Domeric passed Malonne off and gave Brea the same pitiful look she had just given Dimia. “I cannot betray Father. You know that.”

“What happens to us if we lose the war?” she questioned.

Her older brother’s eyes widened. “We will probably die.”

“Aye, and I don’t feel like fucking dying anytime soon.” She grabbed Domeric’s hands. “Please, you spend most of your time with that Silver Salmon when you should attend military meetings, stopping Father from making crazed decisions. Get your priorities in order; you’re the heir.”

The young man mulled over her sister’s pleas. “Perhaps you’re right,” he relented. “I promise I’ll attend Father’s meetings after the wedding.”

“What about the fish that takes up all of your time? Father won’t let you marry her, so cut her loose.”

“I can’t,” Domeric replied, leaning in. “I learned that she is carrying something very precious to me, and I refuse for anything to harm them.”

Brea gasped. He got the girl pregnant! And he plans on making that child his heir, regardless of what Father says. I could already tell by that proud smile. She wanted to sigh. That’s another bundle of problems I don’t want to handle.

Her brother kissed her forehead and stepped away. “I must get ready for my little brother’s wedding, which is somehow happening before mine,” he chuckled. “Father’s antics got us in a bind, huh?”

Brea’s head spun. “Aye.”

“We’ll talk again later, sweet sister, goodbye.”

She waved as her brother left her alone in the halls of the Water Castle. Her frown returned, and she hugged herself in comfort. Domeric loves that dumb Cleophilia, and their love could ruin this entire kingdom. She wondered if it was the same for Jarin. His love for Dimia causes him to be blind, too. Will I have to stay by my brother’s side so they aren’t used?

Brea was exhausted from the thought, but she knew what to do. All of these men are stupid. I’ll save House Ayers my way; the first thing I can do is temper that Wicked Dimia into a goddess. She imagined the cuts and bruises the woman she loved endured. I will ensure Dimia never lays a hand on her handmaiden again.