This is my first piece for Write Anything’s [Fiction] Friday. Writing it was a blast! I actually wrote this on Tuesday, but who cares. That doesn’t matter.

I thought, as a fun change of pace and in the spirit of FF’s celebration of the first draft, I’d scan my handwritten pages for this and post those as a reading option along with my typed version. So, here they are in order. Click the thumbnails for the full-sized images:

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I also thought it would be fun to record this piece on Audioboo, for those who might want to just listen. (There are a few skips in the recording, but it doesn’t seem to have skipped out anything important.)

Here’s the typed version:

———— Start time: 5:20p

Kalane Manor was small by noble standards: the stables housed only five horses, the serving staff numbered under ten, the windows were small and plain, and the drapes were crudely dyed coarse linen. Though the grounds were less expansive than those of the royal family and other more well-to-do dukes and duchesses, none could compare to the beauty of the hamlet the Duke and Duchess of Kalane oversaw.

The gardens of the manor itself boasted fruit trees and a variety of vegetables, as well as a plethora of perfectly pruned flowers and shrubs. Outside the manor gates, each small cottage had a similar garden that ran the length of the old, rutted dirt road.

One of Theo’s first memories was of wandering through the manor’s garden while his father spoke to the Duke. He was perfectly content to be alone, humming tunelessly to himself and pulling dried leaves off of the shrubs as he passed them. It was the first time he’d been there during the summer, and the air was cool and hung heavy with the scent of ginger flowers.

He picked his way along the cobbled path to the bench he knew was tucked away beneath the tallest evergreen. But where he expected to find his usual quiet solitude, he found instead a small girl, dress scrunched up at the knees and white stockings smeared with dirt, sprawled beneath the bench seat with a book. He knew the Duke of Kalane had a daughter, but he’d never met her. She and her mother spent the bitter winters farther north with the Duke’s sister, and he hadn’t even thought that, on this unexpected summer visit, she might be home.

When she lifted slate gray eyes, he felt like an ant in the shadow of a foot. Her eyebrows drew together and she closed her book, lips pursed.

“Who are you?”

Theo glanced around, sure that the question in such a cold, vicious tone couldn’t possibly be meant for him. One glance back at the girl assured him that, yes, she was talking to him.

“Theonis,” he said. “Son of the Archer. Are you the Duke’s daughter?”

She pulled herself out from under the bench and smoothed her skirt down over her knees. When she dropped into a sloppy curtsey, he could see that her red pigtail braids were two different lengths. “Emia. I’ll be a duchess someday.”

Theo tried to picture this short, dirty, freckled little girl in the elaborate dress of a noblewoman, but all it did was make him snort a laugh. The glare she shot him was cold enough to freeze molten earth, and he shut his mouth immediately.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “You’ll be a good duchess, I’m sure.”

“What about you? Are you supposed to be the next Archer?” She dropped her book and seized one of his arms, examining his musculature. “You look awful weak to be any good.”

Theo yanked his arm away and scowled. “I always hit my target,” he grumbled. “My father says I’ll be great. I bet I’ll be a better Archer than you’ll be a duchess.”

She was strong for her deceptively small size. Before he even registered that she’d pushed him, Theonis found himself looking up at her from flat on his back. For a moment, he couldn’t catch his breath, and he tried to blink away tears. He swiped bitterly at one that ran down his cheek.

The second she saw that tear, she dropped to her knees beside him and helped him to sit up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” She brushed the dirt from his back while he took a couple of deep, rattling breaths. “Are you okay?”

Theo nodded and sniffed, fighting the urge to push her back. “I’m fine.”

Emia sat back on her heels. “Do you want to sit with me? I could read to you and make you feel better.”

“I can read,” Theo snapped.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. But I only have one book, and we can’t read it at the same time.” She hopped to her feet and offered him a hand.

Theo pushed the hand away and hauled himself to his feet, dropping heavily onto the bench as far from her as he could get.

“I really am sorry,” she said, opening her book to the first page.

Theo, humiliated, simply sat and said nothing.

———— End time: 7p

Total word count: 733.
Total time: 1h40m (with lots and lots of interruptions)