Chapter 4-2

Once again I held the sword directly in front of me. It seemed to have gotten even heavier than I remembered with my arms still sore from yesterday. I would have liked to say that I persevered through sheer will but the truth was that Elliana's ruthless punishments whenever I wavered provided ample motivation. I was not afforded the mercy of a break when my arms collapsed, shunted out instead to run with my sandbags for company.

When I returned Elliana's demeanor seemed to have changed somewhat. If I didn't know better I might have even called her demure.

"I have a spare hour before Joyce expects me back for evening lessons and supper. What I am trying to say is that you don't necessarily have to leave …. if you wish to stay of course - that is…. W-would you perhaps keep me company?"

I blinked in surprise.

'I would never have expected her to be this shy. Is she really so embarrassed to admit she's lonely?'

I might have found the display a bit sad if it wasn't so damn endearing.

"Of course." I responded "It isn't exactly like I have much better to do. Besides, what self-respecting knight would begrudge time spent with a princess."

Her face immediately lit up and she hurried me back up the ladder to the loft.

Opening a cedar chest, she revealed a small treasure trove.

"I spend most of my spare time up here so you needn't worry about boredom. I have all of my favorite books up here as well as most of my toys et cetera. This, however, is my treasure."

With a flourish she drew out an ornately decorated wine bottle. On closer inspection however I could tell that it wasn't wine at all. The label didn't provide much aid in identification either.

"What is it?" I asked curiously.

"I don't know myself. It was served at my birthday 2 years ago. It is some type of sparkling fruit juice I think. I was so enamored with the stuff that I stole a bottle from the kitchens and have been holding onto it ever since."

I was flattered that she would think me special enough to share it with but also rather confused. Why not save it for a more significant date? Why when we had met only two days prior?

With a sudden laugh it struck me what she was doing. The books, toys, juice, and her nervous expression all made sense. Still laughing I instinctively leaned forward and hugged her as I would my sisters.

"You don't need to bribe me to be your friend, you fool."

She blushed and stammered.

"I-I'm not bribing-"

"And you also needn't waste that on such a dull occasion, after all, you and I will have plenty more opportunities to crack that open over the years, don't you agree?"

Her squirming in my arms stilled somewhat.

"Yes… I suppose I do."

"Besides, I wouldn't say no to the cheese you have squirreled away in there."

She delicately replaced the precious bottle and brought out the much more modest-looking cheese.

"Very well Halfeye" she assented, her usual confidence regained "but only if you agree to pilfer some more bread."

"I think you have yourself a deal, Your Highness." I agreed, equally mocking.

Elliana did not return within an hour for her evening lessons on that night. In fact, distracted as we were by talking, reading, and eating in turn, we ended up spending closer to four hours holed up in the loft.

Elliana and I began to fall into a pattern as the days went by. I would head to the Sanctuary the moment I was free from lessons and she would do the same. Inevitably her more demanding schedule meant that she usually arrived at least a couple hours later than me, entirely exhausted from her own training and schooling. Once she had worked me to a similar state of exhaustion we would hole up in the attic for as late as we dared. That first night Elliana was thoroughly wrung out by Joyce who was, from what I could gather, quite the terrifying character. From then on we were careful to never push too far past our respective deadlines.

More than anything I feared the thought of someone discovering and putting a stop to our clandestine meetings. It wasn't exactly as though anything untoward was happening but I had the distinct feeling that the royals and nobles wouldn't take too kindly to the Crown Princess spending every spare minute with a random commoner.

Without even really realizing how, I came to look forward to those hours in the loft more than anything else, both of us physically exhausted and simply relaxing among the cushions, reading or talking to one another. I always had to remain in on guard with the latter as Elliana's biting wit and mocking jests became no less sharp no matter how tired she was.

Over time my confidence in my training began to slowly grow. It was as taxing as ever but I was gradually able to hold the weighted sword for longer and longer periods. Similarly my pace with the sandbags began to improve even though I was quite sure that Elliana had started adding extra sand. I could tell that she was becoming impatient with the repetitive regime. As the weeks passed I too began to chafe at the lack of real combat teachings. My body had started to become stronger yet my skills remained stagnant. Finally after nearly a month of the same routine, something changed. Elliana burst into the room and practically tackled me as a form of greeting. Her face was flushed and feverish as usual, evidence of her exertion, yet her eyes were aglow with excitement.

"He's finally doing it!" she exclaimed.

"Who is 'he' and what is 'it'?"

"Your father and real training respectively."

It took me a second to process what she meant.

My eyes widened.

"Are you serious? You aren't just pulling my leg are you?"

"Yes to the first and no to the second." she giggled.

"Well are you going to show me?"

"Of course. Don't worry I even took notes so I should be able to replicate your father's instructions perfectly."

She took a small book out from the inner pocket of her vest and flicked through it before lifting a training sword.Unlike our usual one this was weighted normally.

"Watch carefully as I am only going to perform this once. I doubt my arms are capable of more at this point. Your father called it the 1st strike."

She held the sword before her with both hands. Raising it above her head briefly, she struck down in a vertical sweep, stopping the blade when it was pointed directly forward. She simultaneously took a single controlled step forward.

Pleased with her demonstration, she handed me the sword and bade me repeat it. Seeing my swing, she made a few corrections to my posture and stance, flipping through her notebook once more. I tried the swing again and this time she seemed satisfied.

"That one was fine as far as my novice eye can tell. Now simply repeat it 1000 times more."

I blinked at her.

'Oh no.'

"I think I prefer the old training." I whined, my arms in agony.

"Oh stop complaining. To my eyes this is a massive improvement."

"How do you figure? You said that he was actually training us - or rather you - yet this seems to be a mere variation on the previous form."

"Don't you see? He called this the 1st strike. That implies that there are more and he will teach them to us in order."

She seemed proud of her deduction. Some of my enthusiasm returned even if my arms still protested the new regime.

"That being said he also mandated two laps of the palace rather than one."

My enthusiasm died an ugly death.

Elliana was proven correct the following week when she introduced me to the 2nd strike. This one began from the left and scythed diagonally down across the body. This was added to our previous set of 1st strikes while those were lowered to a measly 500. One each week after that my father taught her - and by extension me - a new strike. There were 8 in total. The downwards vertical, 2 horizontals from either side, 4 diagonal blows both ascending and descending and finally a thrusting stab.

By the time we had mastered the stab there were over 4000 repetitions to complete every day and the laps had been upped to 5 rounds of the palace for a total of nearly 8 miles.

This brought with it a new set of problems, primarily in that it was becoming difficult to maintain secrecy. As my endurance became greater and I started practicing the different strokes the training was eating into more and more of my time. Even now I was spending nearly 4 hours each day training before my downtime with Elliana was factored in at all. In addition I had been forced to take my baths alone lest Mother or Amber notice that where once my arms were smooth with baby fat, I now had lean muscle, hardly a normal occurrence for a 9 year old.

Father was too busy to note my absences but I knew that Mother was curious at the very least. For now she seemed willing to turn a blind eye but I would eventually need to find an excuse better than 'walking in the gardens'.

A few weeks later my worst fears came to pass. While eating breakfast Mother made her declaration almost off-handedly, as if, were she casual enough, we might not notice.

"I will need an extra few hours from you all after our usual lessons. That means no sneaking off from you Calin."

Evan was the first to protest.

"You can't just spring this on us. I have plans and that will eat into nearly all of my free daylight hours."

He looked desperate and I could guess why. One would have to be blind to not notice his recent infatuation though apparently Morgan was as she had made no indication of acknowledging how much Evan felt for her.

I had only met the seamstress a few times but seeing how Evan acted around her was enough to have me and my sisters betting on the days it would take him to propose.

I had my own concerns though and no time to worry about my brother's love life. Before I could voice them however, my mother silenced our protests.

This isn't a permanent thing. I know that you all value your leisurely afternoons"

I nearly choked when she called my torturous sessions 'leisurely'

"but this is only 1 week in which I will need to give you some extra instruction."

"What exactly are you instructing us in?" I queried.

"There is an important gala approaching and unlike with the banquet in your father's honor, for this you will be expected to have a solid grasp of etiquette and perhaps even dancing."

I groaned at the prospect but made no protest. This wasn't something that I would be able to wriggle out of. The day continued as usual until lunch came around when Mother decided to break ground on our instruction in a hands on manner. Namely she watched over us like a hawk as we ate, carefully correcting every slouched shoulder or misplaced elbow. This unfortunately did not end with lunch however. Once we had finished our meal Mother ordered us to remain seated at the table and began to carefully set it with a plethora of cutlery and crockery. Many were types I had never even seen before, let alone could identify. What followed was the most mind numbingly boring lecture imaginable on the use of each and every piece laid out. Only when Jenny was quite literally falling asleep did Mother let up. She had no mind for mercy however, and led us back to what she had termed the dancing room but what I affectionately referred to as the 'the torture chamber'. Since that first humiliating lesson in dance I had found that I was not, in fact, a bad dancer, but was simply extremely stiff at the time. This knowledge, though relieving, did not stop me from abhorring dance. Just because I was good at it didn't mean I had to like it. Thus I was more than a little displeased when Mother informed us that from now till the gala, dance lessons would be a daily rather than weekly occurrence. I tried to take some solace from the delight on Jenny's face but found myself lacking in that degree of selfless empathy.

'Look on the bright side, at least you won't be getting tired any time soon.'

My stamina was virtually limitless due to all the training but that unfortunately did not apply to my younger sisters. Sparrow especially got tired quickly, her lack of goldeneye traits doing her no favors. It was one of the reasons I felt a special kinship with my youngest sister: while all of my other siblings had two pure gold eyes, Sparrow's were a dark deep brown. It meant her physique was that of a human and within a couple hours she was thoroughly exhausted by the dancing. For her sake, Mother allowed us to halt for the day but I had a feeling that had Sparrow been absent Mother might have happily dragged it on for hours yet. Our trials were not quite behind us yet though. Mother had decided to put our earlier etiquette lessons into practice during supper and the meal became a torturous affair as each of us racked our brains for several minutes whenever we needed to lift a new utensil. That, more than anything else, wore me out; enough so that by the time I reached my bed I fell asleep instantly.