Skin Deep

Rayna sat in front of the mirror, removing her makeup, and wondered who she would discover underneath.

Beauty takes a lot of work, Rayna. A lot of pain.  Her mother’s voice rang in her head as she scrubbed at her face with the cotton pad.  Never mind that they hadn’t spoken in over two years, the woman was still living rent free in her head.  She did a final swipe, revealing a girl in her mid-twenties, tawny skin dotted with a few fine, but noticeable freckles, nutty dark brown eyes and high cheeks framed by long black hair that could afford to be a bit smoother. Not homely by any means, but plain.

Certainly not good enough.

Changing into sleep pants and an oversized t-shirt, she curled up on the couch, turning on the TV to keep the quiet at bay. Closing her eyes, the sound of reruns soon lulled her to sleep.

#

She walked through a wispy white mist, having no clue how she got there.  The mist met her at every turn, making it impossible to see anything. Not knowing what else to do, she kept walking.

Ranya didn’t know how long she walked, until finally, the mist began to fade, becoming thinner and thinner, enabling her to make out her surroundings. She found herself in a small, rustic village in the dead of night, looking like something out of a period film.

“What in the the—” Ranya gapped, looking around when the faint sound of wild fiddling filled her ears.

Ranya followed the sound to what looked like some kind of town hall, where dozens of brightly dressed people were dancing to the music, talking, laughing, a party was in full swing.

But that’s not what made Ranya freeze. What made her gape.

The village folk were the most beautiful people she had ever seen.  Every single one slender or wiry, all of them tall, their smooth skin in all shades of ivory, alabaster, clay, ochre,  ebony, tea, blush, sand, seashell, as smooth and blemish-free as statin. Their jewel-toned eyes huge and welcoming. The curves and bones of their face more finally shaped than crystal glass.

Feeling herself being watched, she looked down to see a rosy-cheeked little girl who couldn’t be more than five, staring up at her with sparkling emerald green eyes filled with wonder, as if she had just discovered the most amazing thing in the world.  

What happened next happened slowly. The little girl ran to her mother, tugging on her colorful skirt. The woman looked at Ranya and her eyes widened in surprised.  Soon people were running to each other pointing her out and the entire room began to stare at her with looks of absolute awe.

“What’s everyone starring at?” Ranya asked, feeling very nervous and exposed.

“Look at her.” A man in the back gasped, “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“She looks like an angel of God.” Another man whispered.

“Angels of God aren’t actually that beautiful.” A woman spoke up in a hushed tone.

Thinking someone must be behind her, she turned around, only to find no one was there.  But they couldn’t be talking about her? Not these impossibly beautiful people!

Slowly a woman reached out, touching Ranya’s hair. “Oh,” Ranya gasped awkwardly, “Okay.”

Soon a few more starting doing it, and everyone was oohing and aahing over her, when suddenly she was lifted up in the air. “Whoa!” She looked down and found two older men raising her up.

“We have found a woman beautiful enough to marry our king!” One of the old men exclaimed.

Well, this escalated quickly. Ranya thought, swallowing thickly. Then it hit her what they had said. Wait, what?

“Wait, what?!”  Ranya repeated out loud, squirming as she was carried out of the building, before demanding, “Where are you taking me?!”

A cart was brought around and a willowy woman about the same age as Ranya, with milky white skin and hair that fell in cascade of cherry red stepped into the driver’s bench.  The group that had gathered around began pulling Ranya up the other side.

“Hey, I can do this myself!” Ranya exclaimed, before she as deposited into the seat.

“Don’t worry, my lady.” The redhead assured her, “We’ll get you to the capital.”

“But what if I don’t want to go to the capital—” Ranya began.

However, before she could finish the sentence, they were off.

#

Ranya’s eyes fluttered opened.  She found herself staring at the stark white popcorn ceiling of the apartment. Slowly raising up in the chair, her mind took a minute to adjust to reality.

“Okay, whatever I ate last night, I should clearly not eat it before bed.” Ranya concluded out loud to herself.

#

As her day went on, Ranya’s mind couldn’t leave the dream world, its beautiful people. Maybe it was a bit self-involved, but she couldn’t help but think about how fascinated they had been with her.

She was no great beauty, she knew that. She had spent her whole life scrubbing her skin raw, curling her hair, covering herself with creams and chemicals and make up. Trying to please her mother. Trying to please the judges.

 It was never enough. It would never be enough.

And yet for a few moments she had been surrounded by terribly beautiful people, more beautiful than the girls she had competed against when she did pageants, more beautiful the girls from the office.

 So why had they reacted to her that way?

“Hey, Ranya?”

Ranya looked up and found a well-built man in his thirties, smooth blonde hair, nearly dressed in a suit, standing over her desk.

“Oh,” Ranya said, her heart beating faster, “Hey, Charles.”

“Mind making some copies for me?” Charles asked hopefully, holding out a piece of paper.

“Part of my job, isn’t it?” Ranya reminded him.

“If part of that job is being a lifesaver.” Charles quipped, “I’m sorry, I have to stall, would you mind bringing these to the conference room?”

“Sure.” Ranya smiled, maybe a bit too eggar.

After making the copies, Ranya hurried up to the conference room. When she got there Charles had his back to her, talking to a smiling brunette with dainty features.  Her heart sank. She knew that Charles wasn’t interested in the woman. She knew that it was probably all business with this woman, too. It still hurt.

She walked over knocking on the door.  Charlies beamed when he saw her, opening the door for her and saying, “Bobbie, this is the best secretary in the world, Ranya Jones, Ranya, this is Bobbie Simon, she’s with our new clients, Citron Jewelers.”

The PR company Ranya worked her had been courting the small, but successful jewelry company for months. Today they were discussing a new advertising stagey.

“So nice to meet you.” Ranya smiled, “Well I guess I’ll—leave you to it then. Good luck today.”

“You’re far too good to me.” Charles declared, returning a smile before Ranya left.

#

That night when she got home, Ranya fell down on the couch and began sobbing.  She didn’t know why she was feeling this way. Why one small encounter was ruining the whole day.  Why she was letting it.  She knew it was irrational. She knew it made no sense. She knew it was sign she should probably call her therapist.

Instead, she cried herself to sleep.

The mist was thinner this time.  Ranya could see through the whisps, and they faded much more quickly, and she found herself back in the cart with the redhead from the night before. “Hey, um, Miss um—” She began.

“Cassia.” The woman answered, “It’s Cassia, Lady Ranya.

The title took Ranya aback for a moment.  “Just Ranya is fine.” She insisted, “Really.  Um, where are we going?”

“To the capitol City, don’t you remember?” Ranya asked.

“Right, to marry your king.” Ranya responded, deciding not to ask too many questions, “Listen, I’m not sure this is a good idea. I mean, the king doesn’t even know we’re coming.”

“The village leader sent word ahead.” Cassia assured her, “King Damarcus knows we have found a woman fair enough to be his bride. “

Here we go again. Ranya thought. “Okay, I think there are a few things we need to talk about.”

“Well, maybe not so much we you as you fell in our laps—” Cassia rambled.

Just then an arrow flew through the air, barely missing them and hitting a tree. As Cassia shot up, drawing a sword, a gang of about maybe ten armed men in black, descended on the cart, screaming.

“My lady, we must be you out of here.” Cassia declared, grabbing Ranya by the wrist, and running for the threes.

The women ran through the woods, their hearts pounding. They dodged branches and rocks, the men inches behind them.  Suddenly Ranya felt at least two pair of hands grabbing her. She tried to scream but another hand over her mouth, pulling her into the mob.

Adrenaline pumping, Cassia didn’t notice Ranya’s absence until she rounded the corner, finally finding a hiding place. “Alright, I think we lost them.”  She whispered, turning to see no one there. “Lady Ranya? Ranya!”

#

Ranya was currently struggling against ten men, one who was putting more pressure against her mouth as she tried to call out.

“Will you hush ?!” One of them snapped finally.

That was in no way going to happen and Ranya tried to tell them so, and a few other choice words as well, but it didn’t come out very well, muffled by the hand-gagging.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere.” The one who snapped at her declared.

Just then another arrow flew into the crown, the thugs barely getting out of the way in time.

Not this again! Ranya thought, too exasperated to be scared.

However, as they commence in battled with a dozen men in chainmail, her captors had to let go of her. Seeing an opportunity to escape in the confusion. She got herself off the ground and ran for it, only to run smack dab until a man into someone’s chest. She looked and found herself staring into the finely made face of a young man with platinum blonde hair.

“You must be Ranya.” The man smiled, simultaneously blocking a blow from another fighter.

Ranya couldn’t help but stare. “And you must be…” Her voice trailed off, making sure she as pronouncing the name right. “Damarcus?”

That when she saw an ax about to come down on him.

“Look out!” Ranya screamed, pushing him to the ground just in time.

They fell to the ground together, frozen in shock.  Managing to grab the ax where it had fallen, Ranya pulled it from the ground and jumped into the fray.

#

With the raiders running with their tails between their legs, Damarcus and his knights led the women to the capital city, explaining what happened. An enemy had heard of Ranya’s coming and decided he must have her for his own.  He had sent word to the village, but realizing they had already left, took after them himself.

“Thanks for the rescue. I don’t think I would have liked being that creep’s wife.” Ranya said, as they neared the capital, before looking away, “Sorry to disappoint you, though.”

“Disappointed?” Damarcus asked, confused, “Why would I disappointed?”

Ranya came right out to it. “Because you were promised a big fancy ice cream Sunday with all the trimmings and got a stale cake rusk .”

Damarcus’ brow furrow in confusion. “I still don’t understand.”

Ranya just stared at Damarcus. He was so gorgeous he was almost painful to look at. His features were aristocratic and evenly portioned. His eyes large and warm, almost gold in their coloring. His hair was so glossy it gleamed. She could never hold a candle to him.

“You were promised this great beauty and got…me.” Ranya explained.

A look of utter and sincere heartbreak crossed Damarcus’ perfect features. “But you’re the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever seen.” 

#

The palace was beautiful.  White marble walls inlaid with gold and onyx murals of great battles, romances, even what appeared to be children’s stories.  It was the grandest thing Ranya had ever seen.  She felt embarrassed, walking around covered with dirt and sweat and what she thought was might be blood.

“I don’t want to impose, but is there anywhere that I could maybe…clean up?” Ranya asked, blushing under the muck.

“Yes, you have to be uncomfortable.”  Damarcus agreed, before waving down a maid, “Excuse me, could you take Lady Ranya and prepared a bath for her. “Then he turned his attention back to Ranya, “And I was hopping that perhaps after that we could…dine together.”

Looking at Damarcus’ hopeful face, Ranya decided she might not be ready for a marriage proposal, but lunch with this guy sounded nice.  “Sure.”

#

“Beauty pageants?”  Damarcus repeated the term Ranya just used, looking up from the plate.

“They’re these…contest I guess you can call them where girls compete to be the prettiest, the most talented.” Rayna explained, “My mother was obsessed with them, obsessed with me being a Beauty Queen.”

“Surely you swept the competition.”  Damarcus declared sincerely.

Rayna shook her head. “I scrapped by for a while, but there was always someone prettier, more talented. I bent myself over backwards, sometimes literally, trying to be the best, until…” Her voice trailed off, thinking back to that day.

“Until what?”  Damarcus asked innocently.

Ranya didn’t say anything for a heavy moment. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” She said in a strain voice, “I can’t, not yet. It’s too embarrassing for a new…whatever this is.”

Damarcus smiled, reaching for her hand. “I understand.” He told her earnestly. “We have time.”

#

The next few days were the best days of Ranya’s life. It might not have been the most conventual relationship, but Damarcus was very sweet in his courting of her. And the crazy thing was, she thought she was falling in love with him.

There was just one little problem.

“Damarcus, I think we need to talk.” Ranya said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as they walked through the lush palace gardens.

“I thought that’s what we were doing.” Damarcus snarked.

Ranya laughed in spite of herself. “I’m serious, I like you, but…before this goes any further, I have to tell you, I—I don’t think I would make a good queen.” Damarcus had a whole country to think about. He should at least have fair warning.

“What makes you think that?” Damarcus asked in all seriousness.

“Well, for one thing I have no experiences running anything,” Ranya began, “I mean, I’m a sectary for crying out loud! And then there’s…” She sighed, “Okay when I was eighteen, I had a nervous breakdown. I couldn’t handle the pressure of the pageants anymore and I cracked.”

She didn’t remember much about her nervous breakdown. Just a bunch of shocked, scared competitors staring and someone screaming, and it was her. The entire trajectory of her life changed after that. No more pageants, a lot of therapy.   Not a lot of support from her mother.  The woman was convinced Ranya did it on purpose, probably why she wasn’t speaking to Rayna right now. If she was being honest, it kind of hurt.

For the next fifteen minutes, the whole event poured out of Ranya in graphic detail.

Damarcus was silent for a long moment, thoughtful, and Ranya thought it was over.  At least until he said. “Ranya, may I make a few observations?”

Ranya nodded.

“First, whatever happened before, you see perfectly stable now.”  Damarcus noted, “And by God’s grace you were able to pick up the pieces and make a perfectly respectful life for yourself, which makes me believe you were quite capable.”

“That’s one way of looking at it— “Ranya conceded, eyes darting away.

“As for ruling.” He cupped her face, staring at her with those warm, golden eyes of his, “I’ll help you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

Ranya felt a weight lift from her chest. “I like the sound of that.”

And with that, the two leaned in, their lips barely pressing in a chase kiss.

#

She woke up and found herself curled up on her bed.  She back in her room, the sunlight streaming through the window as if nothing had happened.

“Crap.”  Ranya whispered, her tear ducts swelling.

#

In spite of having the rug pulled out from under her, Ranya actually managed to have a good day.  At least until the end of the day when she got a surprise call from her mother.  After more than two years.

Surprisingly enough, it was a pleasant call.  There was no big family tragedy like she was fearing, just a mother and daughter catching up.  At least until her mother said one sentence that changed everything.

“So, I saw where there was a pageant going on in your aera…”

“No.”  Ranya cut her off.

“You didn’t even let me finish.” Her mother protested.

“I heard enough.” Ranya said firmly, “I’m not going through that again.”

“You make it sound like you were being abused.” Her mother scoffed.

Ranya took a deep breathe.  Give me strength. “Mom, I’m not having this conversation with you, I have a new life, a decent life, a life that doesn’t involve pageants. And like I said, I am not going through that again.”

“Oh, don’t so dramatic, just because you couldn’t hack it—” Her mother said the quiet part out loud.

That did it. Ranya hung up the phone and threw it onto the couch with an angry scream.

Ranya couldn’t sleep. She was too wired, too angry after the fight with her mother, brief as it was. But eventually she collapsed in a heap on the couch, falling asleep with tears in her eyes.

#

There was no smoke this time.

She was just instantly there with Damarcus in the palace garden where they had left off the night before. She looked around, confused, “Huh?”

“Ranya, my love,” Damarcus began, concerned, “Is everything alright?”

“No.” Ranya gasped, grabbing his waist.

#

So, saying, she told him everything that happened. By the time she was done she was crying mess.

Damarcus carefully wiped her cheek. “That terrible woman is not worth a tear from your beautiful eyes.”

Inside Ranya, all the anger, and pain and confusion came to a head. “Stop it, stop it!” She hissed, rearing back, “Stop lying to me! Stop telling me I’m beautiful! Why does everyone in this land of models keep telling me I’m beautiful?!

That look of utter heartbreak once again crossed Damarcus’ face, his eyes filled with sadness.

“Ranya,” He began, there’s something I think you need to see.”
#

Damarcus took her into the throne room, another glittering ornate place.  The king’s council was beginning to pour in.

Taking her by the hand, Damarcus stepped up to the throne. “Look past their ‘beauty’ Ranya. What do you see?”

It took her a minute, but then she saw it. They were all the same. Different coloring, yes, but the same size, the same shape, same eyes, hair lips. They were like carbon copies someone had just painted different colors.

“Do you see why we find you so magnificent now?”  Damarcus whispered in her ear, “To us you are something complete unique. And that makes you beautiful.”

For the first time in her life, Ranya saw herself as something fearfully and wonderfully made. Something beautiful just because it was different.

And it was glorious.

“We could rule this place,” Damarcus whispered, “Together. All you have to do is say the word.”

It took a moment for her to realize what was happening. “Damarcus, are you proposing?”

“And if I was,” Damarcus responded, “What would your answer be?”

Ranya broke into a grin. “Yes.”

Damarcus beamed. “My people!” He called out, causing the council to freeze, “May I introduce you to your future queen?”

The council burst into applause, people surrounding Ranya and giving well wishes, asking her, her opinions on different policy matters, and yes, complimenting her beauty.

If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up. Ranya thought, beaming.

And this time she didn’t.