Warrior Princess

Dheeran

      "Walk beside me, will you?" I growled at the girl behind me. She matched my pace, and treaded beside me after that scolding. I could see that Ayra was still looking at the vendors passing with curiosity. It was appalling that a woman from the palace had no knowledge of the hive of activity occurring in the nearby villages. Maybe it was because she had lost her memory—but I couldn't believe her claim. A person who lost their memory would be confused, even frightened of their surroundings. My mother and I had witnessed multiple patients with head injuries go through a gruesome emotional strife over the missing pieces of their past. But observing the serenity on Ayra's face, I could see that she was quite at ease. Her lips were quirked up in a small smile, he dimples shining through, and her round eyes glinting in amusement of the colorful products sold at the booths.

        "Did you really lose your memory?" I asked her, after a much debated tension tightened in my head, until my own curiosity got the best of me.

       "Yes." She replied, turning her slim neck in my direction for a fraction of a second and returning her attention to the lively market surrounding her.

      "What do you remember, anyways?" If she was telling the truth, she would crease her head and at least try to remember the happenings of her life. Unless, whatever she remembers is already too painful for her to try to recover the pages of her life.

        The woman casted her eyes towards the ground, her posture suddenly disintegrating slowly. She gulped in a load of the polluted air, glaring at the sky momentarily. "I don't see the reason to share anything with a stranger."

     I winced at her remark. She had slapped my own words, and every word of her remark felt as if they'd etched themselves onto my skin. I halted in my tracks while she stepped ahead of me; I grabbed her by the wrist, and held her back. "Tell me."

"What will you be able to do it I tell you?" She murmured, and it was then that I came to realize that the girl might remember everything, but it was too long and traumatic for her to relive her tale.

"Why did the bandits attack you?" I asked her instead, intending to draw out the motive behind the bandits' choice to ransack their village. "Why did they decide to keep you captive instead of ruining you?"

Ayra struggled with my hold on her wrist. I let go when I see the tears straining in her eyes.

It was not my intent to hurt her.

Although, my intent does not matter. I have hurt the woman who was a guest in my household; a girl my mother ordered me to please at all costs.

"What do you want from me? Just because I seek refuge in your house does not give you the right to abuse me!" She yelled. A few eyes turned out way, but I load no heed to them. I shouldn't have touched her. I didn't mean to harm her or her heart.

Yet, I was too tongue-tied at her outbreak of emotions to apologize. She was fierce, like a feline with no regrets.

Instead of asking for her forgiveness, I nodded like the coward I was. "Do you have anything else to buy?" I asked her. She had spent the money I had saved to buy my brothers a new chalkboard, and my mother, some new pots. But looking at her disheveled state, I felt horrible for treating her like the way I did before, and suspecting her every action.

"No!" She sniffled, and strode ahead of me. Her hair, which was tightly strewed in a bun, had now come undone, and her hair whipped across my face like a harsh cane. The scent of jasmine invaded my nostrils, and made me intoxicated for a moment. I came to my senses when I lost sight of her amidst the crowd. I jogged, struggling to make my way through the busy market. Finally, I caught sight of her near my house, brushing away the tears cascading against her milky white cheeks.

After a wash of relief, my head clouded with nervousness. If she ratted me out to my mother about how I held her wrist and interrogated her, she will have my head.

I sprinted in the direction of the curvaceous woman and stopped her in her tracks. I had no choice but to apologize now. I'd rather give up my dignity than face the wrath of my mother, who had instilled good behavior within me since I was in her womb. She would feel disgusted with me for my unlawful suspicion about our guest and most importantly, my savior.

"I shouldn't have suspected you." I said, looking her right in the eyes. "I'm deeply sorry." I apologized.

She put her hand up. "No need. If you have a problem with my stay here, I will leave." She murmured and dumped the purchases we made together in my hands.

When she turned away, a huge clattering sounded in my house.