Diet

The clang of swords and the distant grunts of knights sparring in the courtyard faded as I slumped into a chair in my room, utterly exhausted.

Another grueling day of training with Elira had left me feeling like I had been run over by a herd of horses. My muscles screamed for mercy, but I was determined to make this work, to regain control of my body and my life. 

Elira's voice echoed in my head: "You have six months to lose all this weight." The words replayed like a taunt. It wasn't just her brutal training sessions that gnawed at me there was the added pressure of trying to wrangle my appetite.

As much as I hated to admit it, the rich, delicious foods served in the castle weren't exactly helping me get into shape. 

I glanced down at my reflection in the polished mirror. My body still looked the same, no matter how much I willed it to change. No noticeable difference. My face still round, my limbs still softer than I wanted them to be.

A heavy sigh escaped me. The frustration boiled beneath the surface. This is going to take forever.

I needed a new plan. Elira's training might be whipping me into shape physically, but if I didn't change my diet, it was all for nothing. Determined, I marched over to the small bell by the door and rang it, summoning one of the servants.

A few moments later, a young maid entered with a bright smile. "Miss Ren, how can I help you?"

I tried to sound authoritative, despite the gnawing hunger that was always just under the surface these days. "I want lighter meals from now on. Something with more vegetables, fewer meats and... definitely no more sweets."

The maid blinked in surprise. "No sweets, Miss? But—"

"I'm serious," I said, though the part of me that adored pastries and cakes was weeping inside. "I'm on a new regimen, and I need your help to stick to it."

The maid nodded, looking unsure, but she didn't argue. "Of course, Miss. I'll inform the kitchen right away."

As soon as she left, a small pang of regret hit me. *No sweets?* I was already second-guessing myself, but I had to stay strong. If I wanted to lose the weight, I couldn't keep indulging in the sugary delights this world seemed to offer at every corner.

Later that evening, the dining room was filled with the usual spread of rich, decadent food.

My parents and Galen were already seated when I arrived, and the table was a feast of roasted meats, buttery pastries, and delicate sauces that looked like they belonged in a painting. Just the sight of it made my stomach growl in betrayal.

"Ren, there you are!" my mother said, her face lighting up as she waved me over. "Come, come, dinner's ready."

I hesitated, glancing at the spread. No, I reminded myself, you're on a diet. You have a plan. I quickly tried to think of an excuse. "Uh, I already ate… something small earlier. I'm just… not that hungry tonight."

My father looked up from his plate, raising an eyebrow. "Not hungry? Since when are you 'not hungry'?" He chuckled, clearly amused.

I felt a bead of sweat form on the back of my neck. "I'm, uh, watching what I eat now. You know, trying to be healthier."

At this, both my parents exchanged a look. My mother tilted her head, confused. "Healthier? Ren, you're a growing girl! You need your strength. Why, look at this roast! It's been cooked for hours, perfectly seasoned. You can't pass this up."

"It's not about that," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just want to get into better shape. The training with Elira is already tough enough without… without all the heavy food."

Galen, who had been silently eating, looked up with a smirk. "You're on a diet?"

"Yes," I replied, a little too defensively. "I need to lose weight. Elira said so."

My father laughed out loud, a booming sound that echoed around the dining hall. "A diet? In this household? Ren, you've always loved your food. We're not exactly known for restraint when it comes to meals, are we?"

My mother reached over to gently place a hand on mine. "Sweetheart, you don't need to starve yourself. Look at you! You're fine just the way you are."

I groaned internally. *Why did no one understand?*

"I'm not starving myself," I insisted, my voice more exasperated now. "I just want to feel… better. More like myself. And that means cutting back on all of this." I gestured to the table, where the golden-brown rolls practically glistened in the candlelight.

My father grinned, clearly enjoying the conversation. "Well, if you're not going to eat it, more for me." He reached for a piece of bread and tore into it with gusto. I glared at him as he made a show of savoring the rich flavors. "You sure you don't want any, Ren? Just a small bite? It's delicious."

I rolled my eyes. "No thanks. I'm sticking to my plan."

My mother, not wanting to let it go, chimed in again. "But darling, we can't have you wasting away! I know you're trying to be healthy, but that doesn't mean you should stop enjoying life. A little indulgence won't hurt."

Is this what they're going to say every time I try to change something?

Just as I thought I had won, a servant walked in, carrying a tray with a small bowl of salad. Finally, I thought, feeling a wave of relief. But the relief didn't last long when I saw what was coming in next a dessert tray, piled high with pastries, cookies, and cakes.

My stomach growled loudly. Traitor.

Galen raised an eyebrow at me, smirking as he reached for a slice of cake. "You sure you don't want any, Ren? Looks like they made extra tonight."

I clenched my jaw. "I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," he said, biting into the cake with exaggerated slowness.

I turned away, determined not to give in. The salad was in front of me now, a sad little pile of leaves and vegetables. This is what I asked for. I can do this.

But my body had other ideas. The sweet smell of the pastries filled the room, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. I could feel myself cracking.

Just one small bite wouldn't hurt, right?

No. No, I had to resist.

"Ren, really, you should eat something," my father said again, this time offering me a large piece of roasted meat. I shook my head, pushing my plate away slightly, even though the smell was driving me crazy.

"I'm fine," I said again, though my voice wavered. I picked at my salad, trying to force myself to enjoy it.

My mother sighed, giving up on the battle for now. "Well, just don't make yourself miserable, dear. A diet is supposed to make you feel better, not worse."

"I'm not miserable!" I protested, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince.

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of awkward moments where I tried to ignore the food while my family continued to enjoy themselves.

By the time I finally excused myself, I felt drained not from the training, but from the sheer mental effort it took to resist the delicious, tempting food.

Once I was alone, I sat down heavily on my bed. The day had been a battle of willpower, and I wasn't sure I had won. My stomach growled in protest, but I refused to give in. 

This is going to be harder than I thought, I realized, staring up at the ceiling. But I was stubborn. If I could survive Elira's training, I could survive this too.

It was all part of the plan, even if it meant sneaking away from dinners or begging the servants to bring me plain, boring meals.

My body wasn't going to change overnight. I knew that now. But as long as I kept pushing, I would see the results. Eventually. Even if my family thought I was crazy for trying.

As I lay there, my stomach still rumbling, I couldn't help but smile. It was tough, sure, but this was the first time in a long time that I felt like I was taking control. Even if that control meant saying no to cake. 

And that, for now, was enough.