Sure we can be friends
Ava’s POV
It’s been over a week since Raphael finally released me from my mandatory bed rest. True to her word, Gemma took me straight to the palace training grounds as soon as I was fully healed. I haven’t seen Raphael since that night.
I wonder if he’s already tired of me. Maybe he wants to get rid of me. I am, after all, just a servant, someone unworthy of a king. What was I thinking? That he could actually care for me? I shake off the thought and refocus on the task at hand, swinging my wooden sword at the human-like straw dummy that Gemma insists I practice on.
No one has spoken to me in the two days since I started my training. It feels like I’m being ostracized again, just like always.
“What are you doing?” Gemma’s sharp voice breaks my concentration. I glance up at her, towering over me with her tall, imposing figure. Her ginger hair glints in the sunlight, and her green eyes are piercing as always. She looks immaculate, her tunic is perfectly tailored. Everything about this place is so different from the world I came from.
“Your stance is wrong,” she says firmly, stepping behind me. Her hands grip my shoulders, adjusting them into place, and she tightens my grip on the sword. She spreads my legs apart slightly and pushes my chest forward.
I bite my tongue, holding back the urge to snap at her. I know I need these lessons. Acting out now would only make me look foolish.
“Keep swinging until you leave a dent in this straw man,” Gemma commands before moving on to the other trainees. They are called Lycanthropes, the strongest warriors under the command of the King of Lystra. I wish someone would tell me more about this kingdom, but no one seems willing to talk to me.
I continue swinging the wooden sword, my movements fueled by anger. I know why I’m upset, but I refuse to admit it to myself. With one final angry swing, I snap the straw man in half. The training ground falls into eerie silence. The maids stop in their tracks, and the other trainees stare at me with wide eyes.
I’ve never liked being the center of attention, and I can feel their gazes on me, some filled with envy, others with admiration. My eyes finally meet Gemma’s, but her expression is unreadable. I can’t tell if she’s impressed or annoyed.
“That will be all for today,” Gemma announces. The students begin filing out of the training grounds, their whispers reaching my ears.
“She’s weird.”
“How did she break that with just a wooden sword?”
“She’s dangerous.”
“Shhh… she’s the king’s woman.”
“She’s not worthy,” a blonde girl with blue eyes declares, glaring at me with open hostility.
Here we go again. I sigh for what feels like the thirtieth time today. Why do people always find something to hate about me?
“Because we are beautiful,” Maya chimes in, then retreats. I can’t help but chuckle.
“I’m glad you found something to laugh about,” Gemma says as she approaches me.
“I beg your pardon?” I reply, trying to maintain a polite tone, though my brows arch in surprise.
“You’re pardoned, but you’re failing miserably. You’re embarrassing the king,” she says sharply, her words cutting through me like a blade.
I didn’t realize she disliked me as well. At least now I know. I’ll be wary of her.
“How am I failing?” I ask, side-eyeing her cautiously.
“You’re dismissed. I don’t have time for this,” she snaps, walking away without another word.
I watch her retreat, feeling the weight of her disdain settle over me. So, she hates me too. I refuse to let her dampen my mood. I’ve thought about exploring the palace, but I don’t trust anyone not to hurt me. Everyone here wears their hateful emotions as openly as the people from my pack.
“Hi.” A soft, timid voice calls out behind me.
I turn to find a beautiful woman standing there, round-faced and cute. Her brown eyes, almost almond in color, glow with warmth. Her nose is delicately shaped with a cute heart shape on it, and her full lips are a soft red. She’s taller than me, maybe five-seven to my five-five, and her skin is the most beautiful caramel tone I’ve ever seen. Most people here are as pale as snow, that's the ones in the palace.
“I’m sorry for bothering you,” she says, her voice sweet and gentle.
“No, you’re not bothering me at all,” I assured her quickly, unable to stop myself from blurting out, “You’re very beautiful.”
Her eyes widen, and for a moment, they seem to grow misty. I worry I’ve said something wrong.
“I didn’t mean any harm. I’m sorry,” I add, trying to console her.
“Oh no,” she says, sucking in a breath that makes her cheeks puff out adorably. “I’m not angry.”
She seems nervous, and I realize that she’s probably afraid of how I’ll react. She hesitates for a moment, then quietly says, “You’re the first person to ever tell me I’m beautiful.”
Only a fool wouldn’t see how cute she is. Immediately, I feel a protective pull toward her.
“My name is Gwen. My parents sold me here to work,” she says softly, and my heart aches for her. I stay silent, giving her the space to share more of her story.
“I was hoping we could be friends,” she adds timidly. The word "friends" catches me off guard. I’ve never had a friend in either of my lives, and I often wonder what that would feel like.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I’m sorry for bothering you,” Gwen says hurriedly, misinterpreting my silence as rejection. She clasps her hands tightly together, her nervousness palpable.
The gentle breeze ruffles her dark, curly hair, and I take in her green tunic, which compliments her skin perfectly.
“I don’t mind, Gwen,” I say softly, reaching out to gently hold her trembling hands.
She looks up at me, her eyes filled with sorrow, but when I meet her gaze, she smiles, a bright, blinding smile that feels like sunlight cutting through the clouds.
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