Pink

The note slid through the gap in the door, brushing against the floor of the foyer. Neja looked up, wrinkling her nose. “What is that smell?” Her brother Nien glanced at the pink colored note. His eyes narrowed as he mocked her.1

“What is that smell? Oh, goodness gracious, it seems to be coming from the note on the floor. Perhaps I should investigate.” As her brother continued his litany, Neja got up and read the paper on the floor. Congratulations, nineteen-year-old girl! The ladies’ coming of age ceremony will be taking place at your friend Maris Vamaret’s home this year. Vrak-Viskan walked into the room. 2

“That the invitation to Maris’s?” he asked his daughter, wincing sympathetically. Neja nodded, rolling her eyes. It was custom for the girls of Ombrinde to gather together to celebrate their coming of age before the ceremony. She could hardly refuse to go, not without shaming her family name. “What’s the dress to be this year?”3

“Pink,” said Neja, referring to the invitation. “With lace. Lots and lots of damned lace.” Nien snorted. Neja was fairly certain Maris had done this simply to spite her, with her red hair and utter dislike of fine dresses. But, as hostess, it was Maris’s right to select the dress. 4

“I’ll pick it up sometime tomorrow,” Vrak-Viskan said, barely restraining himself from laughing. When he saw his daughter’s face, though, his mirth quieted. “Hey, Neja, it won’t be so bad. Kalina and Angeva will be there, they’re nice girls.” Neja sighed and climbed up the stairs, trying not to think of how hideous she would look in pink. A mockery of womanhood she would make. 5

The reality was even worse. A few days later, as Neja stared at herself in the mirror, she wondered how important her family name really was. “Go ahead.” She glowered at her brother. “Laugh. I would if I were you.” 6

“Neja,” Vrak-Viskan called before Nien could answer. “Kalina and Angeva are here!” Neja grabbed a knife from her dresser, sticking it into her waistband. Pink dress or not, she was still a warrior. Picking the skirt up past her knees, she ran downstairs. 7

Kalina and Angeva were standing just outside the door, neither looking quite as awful as she did. However, they looked just as unhappy. “Can you believe this?” Kalina fumed as they walked through the darkened streets. “What is wrong with that girl?” Neja only shook her head grimly and concentrated on not stepping on the hem of her skirt. 8

The bright lights of the party glowed against the night sky, warm and inviting. Together, the three girls climbed the steps and Angeva wrapped sharply on the door. “Perhaps no one will answer,” Neja whispered, voicing a last ditch hope before the door swung open. A maid was standing there, the gray folds of her dress sweeping the floor. Her mouth was twisted in a suppressed smile.9

“Why, how lovely you look! Particularly you, Princess Neja!” Clearly, she meant the opposite of what she said. “Come in, come in!” They did, shedding their cloaks and shaking out their hair. Maris and her family lived in the West Keep, and kept in well adorned with tapestries and mosaics. 10

In the hall, girls in pink dresses were sitting in small clusters, chattering gaily as they ate. The three slipped among them, disjointed comments reaching their ears. “Would you look at Neja?” someone exclaimed. The warrior woman tensed, bristling at the insult. Only Angeva’s firm hand on her shoulder kept her from lashing out at the speaker. 11

“Forget her, Neja. What does she know? Come on, let’s get something to eat. Neja clenched her teeth but, in the end, nodded. Kalina picked her way through the crowd, leading the way to the lace- adorned table. Behind it, Maris was serving drinks. “Whatever she says to you, Neja, don’t do anything.” 12

Neja nodded and stepped up to the table. Maris’s eyes widened with savage delight when she saw her. “Why, cousin, you look just like those pictures of Aunt Athedra!” Kalina and Angeva gasped as one. They knew, everyone knew, never to compare Neja to her adulterating mother. 13

Neja herself was dead silent. She simply stared at her cousin, looking fit to kill. “I mean, the pink...” Maris gestured to the dress, perhaps realized she had overstepped her bounds. “It’s very...” 14

“Pink is for pigs, and worms, and other slimy creatures that crawl in muck. It is not for self-respecting young women such as myself,” Neja hissed. Maris shrank from the fury in her tone. “Come on Kalina, Angeva,” said Neja, whirling. “Let’s get out of here.” And Neja led the way out of the hall, cursing pink in all of its forms.15

Kalina waved goodbye to her daughter as the girl vanished into the sea of pinks, blues, and greens that was her coming of age celebration. How different it was from her celebration, with all of the pink and that obnoxious Maris Vamaret... A hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present. “Remember our party?” Angeva asked. “Remember Neja?”16

“Ah, yes,” Kalina answered. “Neja, the Queen who saved a country, the first woman Vraka, and the one who ensured no girl would ever have to wear pink to her coming of age celebration again!” The two women smiled and left. 17