The King's Gauntlet

Training

I stared at the weather-worn, slightly contemptuous features of the woman who'd been sent to teach me. It was clear from the start that she did not want to be there. The Gauntlet walked with a certain grace; not the grace of a highborn woman, but with the careful footsteps of an acrobat. Her skin had the dark hue of a Marran immigrant but when she spoke her accent was faultless.

"I work for the Special Tasks Division of the King's Gauntlets. This morning I was readying for another excursion when I was told the sister to King Jarren wanted training. I didn't believe it at first, and in fact I still don't." She furrowed her brow. "Is it true?"

"It's true," I replied. "I requested training from the King's Gauntlets. Are you one of them? I don't think I've seen you before."

The older woman's frown deepened, but only for a few seconds. Then she shrugged.

"Well, let's get it done. Do you have something easier to move around in than that?"

I looked down at the dress my attendants had helped me into. "I have... sleepwear," I said dubiously. It wasn't as though princesses wore trousers and shirts like men, aside from the ostentatious rule-breaker Baroness von Opfen, who could get away with anything. So far as I know, even peasant women wore skirts, though they were of course easier to work in. And yet the woman before me wore black trousers and a tight brown undershirt. Odd clothing under any circumstances but somehow she seemed... beyond normal rules.

I wanted that. To be among those who gave no thought to social convention.

"Change into it then. We'll begin combat training here in five minutes. If that's what you really want."

"Five minutes?" I sputtered. "It will take a deal longer—"

"In my experience, Princess," the strange woman said as she leaned back in a stretch. "If you really want something, you'll make it happen."

I stared at the woman for a moment.

Then I turned and wordlessly scurried to my room, hem brushing against the walls, and slammed my door open. I stripped it off in a hurry, cursing as part of the beige cloth tore, and wriggled the mass of metal and cloth off. The attendants were gone now—and likely that was for the best.

After it was stripped off on the floor I rummaged in her closet. Half the clothes were unfamiliar to me, but my most comfortable sleepwear was easy to find, and in a flash I pulled it on.

I had no idea how long it had taken, but with my new clothes I began barreling down the hall again, startling a passing cook with a bundle full of goose eggs, and then slammed the door to the training room open. The strange woman was still there, standing silent as a statue. She regarded me for a moment with no evident expression.

"We'll start with the basic forms," she said in a flat voice as she began cracking her knuckles. "I want to be clear about this, Princess. You're free to end this training at any time. I suspect it would be for the best. I have a job to do and—"

"And let's get to it then," I said. "Fists in the air like this, yes?"

I raised them up in the air like I'd seen a few of the obnoxious stable boys do when they quarreled over their duties. There was a flash of shock on the other woman's face for the barest instant. Then it smoothed back into imperturbable calm.

"I will do the instruction. But..." she strode forward and raised an arm. "More like that. Your opponents likely will be taller than you," she said, making adjustments to Kara's guard. "I have a bit of a height advantage as well. That will be useful when it comes time to spar."

She stepped back and put her hands on her hips, frowning at me as if I brought with me a particularly foul odor. "You know, I have a job to be doing. If at any time you want to end this—"