Reckless by Marline J (suggested reading .TXT) 📖

Andrew was pacing through the room, his large sturdy boots creating thumps on the wooden floor. His sword was dangling from his hips and his arms were at his sides, balled into fists.

“You’re weak, you need to be protected.” He spat, without even looking her way. It seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than he was convincing her.

“The only reason you’re saying that is because you have orders from father to protect me!” She exclaimed, growing more annoyed by the minute.

Andrew stopped his pacing and turned her way, his face now annoyed. She slowly backed away from him. 

“You are a woman. You cannot fight. And your father has every right to want you protected. End of discussion.” With that, Andrew marched to the door. Just before he reached it and grasped for the handle, she whispered: “this is my country too.”

Andrew paused, with the handle of the door in his hands, and just when she thought that he might have changed his mind, he resolutely opened the door and marched out of the room. End of discussion.

Elizabeth Marie Dawson looked after Andrew and felt the tears spring into her eyes. Her childhood friend had grown up, and now it felt like he had betrayed her. Because he was born as a man, and she as a woman, because she was royal and he wasn’t, she was not allowed to protect her country. Sadness at his betrayal soon made way for anger. How dare he tell her what she could and couldn’t do? How dare he say that she was weak! When they were younger she had beaten him at sword fighting numerous times, it was only when Andrew started his intensive training to become a soldier and personal body guard when he finally grew enough muscles and skill to beat her. Admittedly, if they were to swordfight now, Elizabeth didn’t stand a chance. But with some training, she was sure that she could at least be of some help. And wounded soldiers? There would be plenty of those! It was nonsense that woman could not handle blood or that they would faint at the sight of an open wound, in fact, Elizabeth secretly believed that it was men who were more likely to faint when they saw blood. Yes. Elizabeth balled her fists. She could be of help. If Andrew would not let her fight, then she could at least help the fallen soldiers. She knew that he expected her to stay safely in the palace, maybe to help sew new uniforms for the soldiers once in a while, but that was all she was allowed. But Elizabeth was never good at following orders. She was also never good at sitting still in tense situations. She had to be out there, where things were happening. She had to help, not from the sidelines, but where it mattered most. Elizabeth straightened her back, raised her chin and made a resolution: she was going to the battlefield.

This was the worst idea of her life. How could she ever have done or thought something so stupid? Too sentimental to cut off her long blond locks, Elizabeth had bought herself a wig, and piled all her thick hair underneath. Now, standing in line in between rows and rows of large, manly soldiers, she longed to itch her head, or feel her wig to make sure that it was not slipping off. She shuddered at the thought of her wig falling off, and men realizing that she was not a man, and then how she would be ridiculed.

“Soldiers!” A booming voice suddenly sounded and the rows and rows of men straightened their backs, put their chests forwards and lifted their heads. Elizabeth caught her breath, she would know that voice anywhere. Andrew.

Andrew was standing in front of the hundreds of men that were being sent to the battlefield. As his eyes glided over the men and seemed to rest on each face, Elizabeth tried to make herself look smaller, but she forced herself to keep her head lifted. She did not need any attention drawn her way. After what seemed like hours, Andrew finally spoke again. But Elizabeth couldn’t listen. Instead, her eyes roamed over his body. Andrew was standing on a makeshift stage of wooden crates, with two soldiers on both sides. His feet were firmly planted shoulder width apart, spear and shield stood leaning against the crates, with his helmet placed on top of his spear. His leather uniform was snug around his shoulders and emphasized the broadness of them. A knife was protruding from his belt, and she knew that he had another one hidden in his right boot. Andrew never went anywhere without a knife. His dark, piercing eyes looked pitch black, but she knew they weren’t. Somewhere deep inside them they had a line of hazel, which he hated because it made him feel feminine, but she had always loved it. Dark stubble shadowed his square jaw and his dark hair was pulled backwards into a small pony tail. She forced down a smile when she thought of how often she had teased him about his hair, that he was better at doing his hair than she was at doing hers. But now she had to admit that his hair made him look masculine and strong. Incredibly strong. And also incredibly handsome.

Suddenly the line of men started moving and Elizabeth could not believe that she had just entirely missed what Andrew had said. She hoped from the bottom of her heart that it was not something important. The crowd of soldiers moved like one body as they marched to the rows of horses attached to a long fence. Thankfully that she had gone to town yesterday and bought a horse that was easy to recognize, Elizabeth walked to a strong, brown stallion. Andrew knew all the stable horses and it was therefore essential for her to have one that did not belong to the palace.

As a child, Elizabeth had a lot of freedom. Her parents let her enjoy her childhood, and although she was taught how to be a perfect princess, she was also allowed to go off for hours on horseback, and she was allowed most things when Andrew was with her. On one such occasions, Elizabeth had asked Andrew if she could try riding on his horse, with his saddle. And that was how, in the woods surrounding the palace, Elizabeth had learnt how to keep her balance, riding with one leg on each side of the horse. Andrew had laughed at her antics, but had also warned her not to ride this way in public. People would start talking and scandalizing the royal family was not a good idea.

As she now hopped onto her horse with ease, and steered her beautiful Reckless – as she had called him – to the line of men already waiting for an order, she was thankful to her parents for having given her her freedom when she was a child.

After having travelled for a day, and having avoided most conversations with men, except for a few grunts, they finally arrived at the place where they would spend the night. And that was when Elizabeth finally realized the true scope of what she had done. She would now have to sleep in tents with large numbers of sweaty, maybe even naked, men. How would she change into something different, or would this uniform be her cage tonight?

After watering and feeding their horses, a group of men made dinner over a large fire and they sat in groups, eating some kind of stew with some lumps of meat. Elizabeth didn’t care what she was eating, she was just glad she had food in her stomach. She hadn’t seen Andrew all day, and she missed him. She also missed her family, she had been worrying about them all day. On the horse she certainly had enough time to finally think through her actions, and though she had told her parents that she would be staying with a family member in another city for a couple of weeks, she was sure that they would find out at some point that she was not where she claimed to be. Elizabeth also constantly worried about being discovered, what would they do with her? She was a princess, she wouldn’t be punished too harshly, but what would Andrew say? How would he react? Would he ever speak to her again? He would be humiliated, that she was sure about. She forced her mind to think of other things and when the first soldiers started retiring to their tents, she was one of the first to go. Once inside she lay down on the hard floor and pulled a blanket over her. A number of soldiers gave her weird looks as they started stripping off their uniform, but she didn’t care. She was so tired, she could have slept in anything.

The next morning they were woken early, because they needed to be on their way. Within half an hour, around 500 men had eaten, packed up their tents and were on their horses. Still Elizabeth had not caught a glimpse of Andrew and she  missed seeing a familiar face among all these men. As each man started to get to know his fellow soldiers better, the jokes and conversations also grew more amicable and therefore often also filthier. Elizabeth had a harsh introduction into the world of men. There were honourable men, and men who regarded women as toys for their use. Oftentimes Elizabeth forced her mouth shut, and had to count to ten in her head not to give a snappy reaction. At the same time, she was also frightened. Tonight they would arrive at their destination, at the site where they would set up camp for the coming 6 weeks. She wondered what it would be like, and if she would survive. She was also worried about Andrew. As commander over a large number of soldiers, he would be going to the battlefield to fight. She was merely a nurse, going to take care of the wounded soldiers. Of course, she was necessary, but she most likely did not have to risk her life.

“What’s your role going to be?” A soldier next to her suddenly woke her from her pondering. Elizabeth looked to her right, where a young soldier, with a clear shaven face and a small stomach sat. She couldn’t help but smile at him. Then she quickly had to remind herself that smiling at another soldier was not a very masculine thing to do. 

“Medical tent.” She grunted. “You?”

“Cooking. I like cooking. At home I had a restaurant.” Ah, that’s where the stomach came from. “I’m going to make sure that everyone has the best dinner they have had in their lives, and that there is enough food, because I hear there is never enough food at the warfront.” Elizabeth nodded. She liked this man.

“I’m Charles.” He suddenly said, extending his hand to her.

She