Wanderess

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

Fayre panted as she sparred with the weapons master of the Guard. After her talk with her Father and the discovery that shocked her to her very core, that impacted her wholly, made her question everything she had learned, she needed a way to expel the energy she felt and a something to distract herself.

Her end discovery was that she needed a workout, she needed to push her boundaries physically as her mental state was in shambles at this point anyway. Putting her fighting gear on- the only black outfit she owned, she made her way to the training room and requested the weapons master train with her.

Her attire consisted of tight leather pants; stretchy and perfect for combat, equipped with a sword belt, where her scabbard hung, her sword in the custody of the weapons master himself, being prepared for her training. Around her ankles were hidden daggers, as she was instructed to place them, with a spare in her belt beside her sword scabbard. Her top was a long sleeve black material, with a vest over the top, fitted and allowing for another dagger to be sheathed inside the breast pocket for easy access.

She had braided her hair back, everyone now having seen her hair out, unsure if everyone saw the curl, but not caring overall. There was now bigger fish to fry.

She had retrieved her sword before they began their sparring match. The blade, Celestia it was called, was of beautiful make. The blade sharp and refined while still balanced and deadly beyond recognition. The hilt was of simple make, the brassy end comfortable in her grip, easy to hold on to.

Fayre was more of a dagger person when it came to her fighting lessons, the sword large and became heavy over time. She was still an expert with the blade by now, but she preferred the stealth of smaller blades when it came to battle.

Not that she had or likely ever would see battle, but with her training now amplified to match her position, it was likely to be a replica of a real battle, to prepare her for anything that could lay ahead.

As she swung Celestia at the weapons master, he ducked and swiped left with his own sword. Meeting his blow, the Princess used this opportunity to swipe her foot out and kick the back of the larger man's legs, effectively knocking him back, to land on his backside.

Swift as a river, she discarded her sword in favour of a longer dagger, placing the blade over the master's throat, she had efficiently won the match. Her sword may be plain, but her daggers were beautiful; each with a different pattern on the hilt; the swirls and patterns elegant and deadly, but each had the shining teal gem situated at the end- her signature colour. The colour of her eyes. Her blades were balanced to perfection and she could throw, fight and kill with a single dagger.

With a nod of approval from the weapons master, she stood up, straightened her spine and offered him a hand up. Gratefully taking it, he hauled himself up, and nodded towards the sword discarded on the floor, indicating the lesson was over. She had done well.

In the chaos of her own mind, she hadn't noticed the scurrying about in the palace. Something bad had happened. Sheathing her sword, still clad in her fighting clothes, Fayre made her way to the throne room, where she knew her Father would be.

Entering the room was easier said than done. People were crowding into the room, assuming to hear what the King would have to say about whatever had occurred.

She pushed her way through the mass of people and made her way to stand beside her Father's throne. Giving him a look that silently asked him to explain what was going on.

The King opened his mouth to speak, every head in the room turned to look at him, silence settling over the room. He truly could command a room with just a glance.