Two Wicked Courts

Chapter 12

I was sore in the morning, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I stretched in the courtyard to warm up, breath clouding in front of me as snowflakes fell. I only knew Bryn had joined me by the skittering chills her stare sent down my spine.

"What torture do you have in store for me today?"

"I'm surprised to see you here."

I turned to her. "I am required to learn which end of a knife to hold before Casimir takes me to court. His words."

"That is an ambitious time frame, my dear." Bryn inspected me and shook her head.

"I know I'm weak, Bryn, but I want to learn." I bit my lip. "I don't want to feel as powerless as I did."

"Fine!" She threw her hands up. "No need to bring in the tears. Against my better judgement, I'll get the practice swords. Practice your forms in the meantime."

So the real training with Bryn began. She taught me how to incorporate the sudden addition of the practice sword into my forms, corrected my footwork over and over again, showed me how to hold the grip, and demonstrated a few simple attacks and how to defend against them. My sword arm grew tired quickly, but grew stronger every morning after.

Time was passing, Casimir's journey to court drawing closer and closer, and I wasn't making much progress after Bryn decided to let me practice with a real shortsword. I rarely saw any of the others around the castle; Neranni was sent to scout back in Summer Court and report on the situation there, Raiden had been sent to Vinas Lastren to convince Mikolai to make the journey to Autumn Court's capital so Casimir would only have to plead his case once, and Casimir made himself scarce while he finished preparations. Mornings with Bryn and the brief, unpleasant conversations with Aisling were the only interactions I had. Even my evenings were usually spent alone, after Bryn quietly slipped away from the castle to feed.

I grew incredibly discouraged as the days grew shorter and colder, and I didn't want to admit why. It shouldn't matter to me, but it did.

I didn't want to get left behind.

I wanted to go to court with Casimir.

I wanted to help him.

I shook the loose hairs away from my face and I concentrated on the target.

"Again!" Bryn called lazily, as if she were bored. She probably was.

Sweat rolled down my back even though my breath clouded in front of me. The sun was still rising, but the air was getting colder, and every breath felt like a stab to my lungs. I readied myself in a basic stance, adjusting my grip on the hilt of the sword and raising it. My arms were starting to shake from exertion, but I swung at the target dummy again. The sword cut through the sack cloth at an odd angle and glanced off the wooden skeleton beneath, slipping from my grasp and clattering to the cobblestones.

"It's like you're not even trying," Bryn scolded, as she lounged in her chair with her feet up on the table and enjoyed the warmth of the lit brazier beside her.

I glared at her. "Easy for you to say. This is hopeless."

"At this rate, it is."

"So, that's it? What can I do against faster, stronger beings who have had centuries to study the blade?"

She removed her legs from the table to sit forward and leveled her gaze on me, which I tried not to shrink away from. "In case you have forgotten the meaning of these lessons, I am trying to teach you what precisely you can do against faster, stronger beings who have had centuries to study the blade."