Two Wicked Courts

Chapter 11

Training with Bryn was worse than I ever could have feared. Whatever goodwill she gave me in the castle vanished when we were out in the courtyard. She was relentlessly critical and strict and no matter what I did, I could never please her.

The first morning, and countless mornings after, she wouldn't even let me touch a blade, whether it be a dagger or a shortsword. Everything was about proper form and footwork and making me strong. She made me run laps around the courtyard until my chest heaved and sweat dripped down my back, muscles cramping painfully with each step. Every day that passed I grew more accustomed to it and thought the worst was over, but then she decided my arms were too weak and dictated that I needed to work on that.

When I looked at her questioningly, she groaned and departed. She returned moments later with a board and two buckets filled with rocks attached at either end. "Lift that up past your head, put it down, and lift it again."

"How many times?"

It was her turn to look at me questioningly. "Until I say stop."

She left before she told me to stop. My muscles had never screamed as bad as they had that morning, but I did as she ordered, as many times as I was able until I collapsed and vomited my breakfast. I didn't want to disappoint her and I was tired of being weak. I laid on the frigid flagstones of the courtyard, their cold easing the burn I felt all throughout my body, not only my arms, but my back and my legs. I bit back whimpers and tried not to shiver hard enough to set my muscles aflame.

"What are you..." Casimir's voice sounded amused but he paused as he neared. Something hit the ground with a heavy, wet thud. "Una! What's wrong?"

"Bryn is trying to kill me," I groaned, trying not to retch again from the smell of fresh blood.

He must have been out hunting in the forests below because he had dropped the corpse of a large stag.

He crouched and scooped me into his arms without a word, but he held me gingerly at a distance and was careful not to touch any of my exposed skin, like I was some kind of stray animal. His arms, despite the layers of our clothing, were shockingly cold and I cringed. Even that movement caused a pathetic moan to emerge from my lips. He didn't look down as he carried me out of the courtyard and into the castle and I made a point of looking anywhere but at him.

I tensed as I expected him to make demeaning comments about my weakness or mortal frailty, but he said nothing until he pushed open a door and I was washed in the scent of herbs.

Bundles of drying plants swayed gently from the ceiling, suspended on strings, and shelves of colorful bottles lined the walls of Raiden's workshop. The last wall was dedicated to books, presumably pertaining to his craft.

"Una is going to need your help," Casimir said as he gently eased me onto a cleared table. It was all I could do to sit up while he quickly stepped away as if he could no longer bear to be near me.

Raiden's back was turned to us, bent over a desk. "What have you done to her?"

Casimir's usual scowl returned to his sharp face. "Bryn pushed her too hard this morning and I found her collapsed in the courtyard, Bryn absent. Have you seen her?"

Raiden turned, illuminated by the window behind him, and shook his head. His dark eyes glanced over me and for a moment, I could have sworn they flashed white. The pale daylight cast a blue tint over his skin. "Sore?"

I nodded.

He hummed and browsed his shelves, selecting several bottles. He turned back to the desk and began portioning out the herbs into a mortar. When he was satisfied, he poured a bit of liquid into the bowl and began crushing and mixing it with the pestle. "Are you going to hover the whole time or will you make yourself useful, Caz? She needs to drink water."