Les Hors-la-loi || Outlaws

4

1169, thirteen years ago

"The world is a dark and dangerous place sometimes, my dear. You must learn to protect yourself from the demons that lurk. Always be wary of those close to you. Sometimes, the monster you must fight doesn't sleep under your bed, rather it eats at your dinner table, or it tucks you in at night."

Chloé giggled as her mother tucked the covers around her daughter. "You're no monster, maman!"

"Perhaps, but be wary all the same, my pretty little princess."

~~||~~

1175, seven years ago

"Again."

Chloé took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and forced herself to focus. Then she opened her eyes and began her attacks. Her teacher blocked and parried each one, but Chloé was small and quick, and she was taught to use it to her advantage. However, she was still an eleven year old child, so when she landed a solid blow to her teacher's gut, she dropped her guard and rushed to his side.

"Armand! I'm sorry! Are you okay? Shall I fetch the doctor?"

"You have nothing to be sorry for, princess. That was excellently done. Shall we call it for today?"

~~||~~

1178, four years ago

Armand D'Argencourt hissed as his tailbone hit the floor for the fifth time that hour. "You're going to put me in crutches at this rate, princess."

Chloé smirked as she took the cloth that blindfolded her and used it to tie her hair up in a neat bun.

"I am very impressed, make no mistake. Not many women can defend themselves as well as you do blinded, in their dresses no less. Although, next time we train, I would appreciate if you wore your protective gear."

Chloé shrugged. "I'll be wearing a dress all my life. It only makes sense for me to know how to defend myself with all this nonsense."

"You are fourteen, princess, you have nothing to fear."

"So says the man who sleeps with a sword at his pillow."

"Touché, princess."

~~||~~

1180, two years ago

"Pathetic! Insulting, that's what it is!"

"I was only --"

"Stooping to such levels of trickery is dishonourable and to be frank, I am extremely disappointed. I have not taught you to fight like rascal on the streets. I have trained you in the manner of a knight, a noble art. You insult me by using cheap tricks and underhand strategy. Have I taught you nothing of honour?"

Chloé's expression hardened. "You have no right to address me in such a manner," she said softly. She was hurt at the response her skills had received, and she wanted to hurt her mentor back. But she did not know how. "You are just a man who thinks he knows all there is about defending himself. What am I to do if I am confronted by a group of bandits who use nothing but underhand strategy? Am I then supposed to cry honour and hold up my sword for them to strike first? I think not! I'd prefer to be a living rascal than a dead princess!"

"Then this is where your training ends. I cannot teach a student who does not respect my teachings."

"To hell with your teachings! What will honour get me when I am dead because my attacker does not play by the rules? What then? My father will mourn me like he did my mother and I will blame you and your teachings of hunour and courage. In a dark and dangerous world, only the cowardly and the cruel survive! So forgive me if I wish to one day actually sit upon the throne of my kingdom!"