‘Ooh,’ Dionne hissed, wincing on Scarlen’s behalf.
Dignity hurt more as Scarlen steadied herself, grounding her feet and raising her fists, her adrenaline pumping at the smug satisfaction written all over Kylar’s face. But Kylar charged before there was time to assess the situation, bringing them both crashing to the mat.
‘This is for getting me dark cell time, fucking bitch.’ Kylar slammed her elbow into Scarlen’s solar plexus, stealing air and more pride.
Doubled over, Scarlen clutched at her chest, struggling to breathe, wanting to strike out but held back by the force of the blow she’d taken. With one outstretched hand, she managed to straighten a touch, but Kylar grabbed her from behind and swept away her legs, placing her on her knees, her head angled in Kylar’s flexed arm.
‘Tap out,’ yelled Dionne.
And Scarlen thought she might, but Kylar wasn’t going to make it that easy. Yanking Scarlen to a stand, Kylar pushed her away, then smacked her in the mouth with all her might. Her two punches gone.
A hammering began in Scarlen’s bottom lip, and it felt it had swollen already. A surge of anger had her roar forward, and for a split second she thought Kylar would dodge her charge so she’d fall flat on her bruised face. But Kylar wasn’t quick enough, and within a moment, Scarlen was grappling with her on the thin mat, pinning her briefly before throwing her fist straight down onto Kylar’s nose. An explosion of blood had Kylar scream out, her eyes wild, teeth bared.
Scarlen stumbled to a stand, Dionne shouting at her to pin the bitch, and the hesitation caused her damage, as Kylar landed on her, tugging an arm around her back and pushing her face into the blood-splattered mat, the metallic taste of it lingering in Scarlen’s mouth, or perhaps that was her own.
Kylar was attempting to break Scarlen’s arm, but Scarlen managed to free her other and tap out, much to Kylar’s obvious frustration.
Miss Goolan waved them away with her fingers, eyes only on her clipboard, then told two other women to step forward, no care for cleaning the blood from the mat first.
Dionne quickly had her hand on Scarlen, massaging her shoulder. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes. I think.’ The intent to humiliate or simply inflict pain had worked, because Scarlen felt both, while Kylar looked enraged with bloodlust.
‘You had some good moves there. You just need to be more attack than defence. Remember that next time.’ Dionne steered her over to the side wall. ‘Go get some water.’
Scarlen shuffled away on wobbly legs, trying to show no pain, as some eyes were on her, but then she noticed Bear step ontoa mat. His opponent was one of his friends, Oxley. This she had to watch. Using an upturned bucket to stand on, she peered over heads, eager to spy on the two muscular men ready to bout.
Oxley circled the mat, goading the viewers with a fist in the air and an easy-going smile, which gained him some cheers, then laughter when he winked at Bear, who rolled his eyes in return.
Bear was that little bit bigger than his friend, but they were fairly matched, and it seemed Bear was waiting for Oxley to make the first move.
The one thing Scarlen noticed during their match was that neither of them threw a punch, and she wordlessly cursed herself for not using her second punch on Kylar. She’d be ready next time, as she wasn’t about to deal with split lips every week. Perusing the gymnasium, she could see there wasn’t that much bloodshed, and the matches looked way more controlled than hers, which only infuriated her more, as she wanted to have another chance to show the skills she had been taught.
‘Smithson, get down,’ said Mr Lackly, frowning at the bucket beneath her. ‘I see you’ve had your match. So go wash up.’
She pressed on each tooth as she made her way to the doorway, pleased none were loose, halting as a cheer roared out around Bear’s mat, and she glanced back in time to see him mock a bow at Oxley before catching her staring as he stepped through the crowd.
A pain shot through her cheekbone, causing her to wince as she turned sharply to walk away. It was bad enough her pride was dented, she didn’t need to add embarrassment for getting caught gawping at his solid chest.
Miss Harnish was by the door, her rosy cheeks, nose freckles, and kind green eyes had Scarlen think of home for a moment. There weren’t many people in the palace allowed to see the princess, but Meltie, her personal maid, was one, and she looked quite similar to Harnish, even had the strawberry-blonde hair,although Meltie would never tie hers into such a tight bun. Loose locks were the style for Borough South, the reason Scarlen wore a braid whenever her father wasn’t around.
‘Miss, may I see the healer, please?’
Even though Harnish held sympathy, she still shook her head. ‘Afraid not, Smithson. You only have bruising.’
‘My lip feels the size of my face, and I’m not sure I have a cheek anymore.’
‘Oh, it’s not too bad.’ Miss Harnish’s tall frame shadowed Scarlen for a second, her slender fingertips lightly brushing over Scarlen’s painful cheekbone. ‘There, that should help.’
Scarlen had no idea what the guard had done, but her cheek wasn’t hurting anymore.
Miss Harnish blinked innocently as she went back to perusing the gymnasium. ‘Ooh, I wonder what happened to your face, Smithson? I guess some people heal quicker than others.’
And on that note, Scarlen went to clean up, certain she had been told to keep her mouth shut about the unauthorised healing she’d received from a guard. Maybe everyone knew Harnish had the ability, but just in case, Scarlen would keep quiet, and if anyone happened to ask why her cheek had healed quicker than her lip, she would tell them Kylar punched like a baby. The thought had her grin, then wince, as her sore lip cracked. Sticking her tongue on the wound, she went to the shower chamber with some others for a wash at the sinks.
Enteringthe canteen for lunch was quiet, mostly down to people nursing their injuries, and Scarlen wondered if Miss Harnish had secretly helped anyone else to heal.
‘I’m having soup,’ Dionne said, rubbing her jaw from a smack she had received.
