Three years later…
Three years had passed since that day, and now I still didn't want to become queen. I just acted like I didn't know anything about Seraphina's plan to abdicate. Instead I focused on having better skills, especially in swordsmanship.
To tell the truth I had become spoiled, demanding everything to be the best and even asked for harsh training and of course no one refused.
Today, I was in the training hall, sparring with my swordsmanship teacher. Her name was Elara, she was a tall imposing woman with short cropped auburn hair and green eyes.
She was wearing a knight uniform and you could see her muscle even if she wasn't flexing it. Well for some people she may seem harsh but she has a kind heart even if her training is sometimes really difficult.
"Isolde, get ready." she commanded, her voice was sharp, no room for argument.
I nodded, tightening my grip on my practice sword. My white hair was tied back into a braid, and I was already sweating. Elara never went easy on me, that's what I liked with her .
"Begin!" she shouted, and we clashed swords.
The sound of metal striking metal echoed in the hall. I moved l swiftly, even if I was small I tried to be fast. Well I have become quite skilled now.
I parried Lady Elara's strikes with my swords. Despite my fast progress, Elara was still ahead of me, she would know what I'm going to do before I even do it.
"Good, Isolde, but not good enough," she teased, pushing me back with a powerful swing.
I gritted my teeth, refusing to yield. "I won't give up!"
We continued our bout, my muscles burning with fatigue. Lady Elara's strikes were relentless, her movements precise and calculated.
The hall around us seemed to blur, my focus narrowing to the edge of her blade and the glint in her eyes.
"Faster, Isolde, faster!" she barked. I pushed myself harder, feeling the burn in my legs and the strain in my arms.
My breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle to draw in more air. The sweat dripped down my face, stinging my eyes, but I couldn't afford to blink.
I managed to land a few hits, but they were glancing blows at best, barely scratching her uniform.
Each successful strike of mine was met with a counter that left me a bit angry. Lady Elara's face remained calm. She was testing me to push me to my limits and beyond.
"Your form is improving," she remarked between strikes. "But you need to anticipate your opponent's moves, not just react."
I nodded, trying to make sense of her advice even as I fought to stay on my feet. The weight of the sword seemed to increase with each passing moment, my arms shaking with the effort of holding it steady. Yet, I didn't want to give up,I would not let her break me.
A sudden, unexpected move from Lady Elara sent my sword flying from my hand. It clattered to the floor, the sound loud in the silent hall. I stumbled back, my breath coming in heavy gasps.
"Yield, Isolde," she commanded, her sword at my throat.
I shook my head. "No! I want to continue."
She sighed, lowering her sword. "We're finished for today." She handed me a bottle of water, her expression slightly softened. "You did well. Drink and rest."
I took the bottle, my hands trembling.The cool water was what I needed after that long training, and I drank deeply.
As I rested, I replayed the fight in my mind, analyzing each move, each mistake. Lady Elara's words echoed in my head, a reminder that I still had much to learn.
"Thank you," I said, raising my voice. "I will do better next time."
Lady Elara nodded, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I know you will, Isolde. You have the heart of a warrior. Never forget that."
I watched her leave the hall. I was exhausted, my body aching from the hard training.
"I shouldn't be like this," I muttered to myself. "Today, I'm supposed to discover my magic. I'm now ten years old, and I'm going to pass the test to know my magic."
Finishing the water, I got up and made my way to my room. My room had changed drastically over the years.
Gone were the childish toys and decor. Instead, my room was now filled with luxurious, expensive furniture.
A grand four-poster bed with silk sheets dominated the space, and an ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling. Velvet drapes framed the tall windows, and a plush carpet covered the floor.
I had demanded these changes, expecting my parents to refuse, but they hadn't.
I headed to the bathroom, taking my time in the shower. The warm water soothed my sore muscles, and I stood there, letting it wash away the grime and stress of training.
Afterward, I wrapped myself in a soft towel and took my time choosing my outfit. I settled on a simple yet elegant dress made of soft, flowing fabric. It was a deep shade of purple, matching my eyes, and had delicate silver embroidery along the hem and neckline.
As I finished getting ready, my dad entered the room. He smiled warmly.
"Isolde, you look beautiful," he said, coming toward me with open arms.
I stepped back, shaking my head. "No hugs, Dad. Let's go now."
His smile faltered slightly, but he nodded. "Alright, let's go."
We walked to the castle entry together, the silence between us was heavy. A grand carriage awaited us, it looked expensive, totally what you would wait for a princess to have.
It was made of polished mahogany, with gold accents and intricate carvings depicting scenes from our kingdom's history. The windows were draped with rich, velvet curtains, and the interior was lined with plush, red velvet seats.
We climbed into the carriage, and I settled into my seat, staring out the window as we began our journey. My father tried to make conversation, asking about my training and my day, but I remained silent, lost in my thoughts.
The landscape passed by in a blur of green fields and distant mountains, but I barely noticed. My mind was focused on the upcoming test, the moment I would finally discover my magic.
After what felt like an eternity, we arrived at the place where the test would be taken. It was a grand hall, built of white marble and adorned with statues and banners.
The entrance was flanked by tall columns, and the heavy wooden doors were intricately carved with symbols of magic and power.
We stepped inside, the air was cool. The hall was vast, with a high ceiling and rows of benches lining the sides. At the far end stood a raised platform, where a man awaited us.
He was tall and slender, with grey hair and deep blue eyes. He wore robes of deep blue and silver, embroidered with arcane symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light.
"Isolde Blackwell," he started, his voice echoing through the hall. "It's time to see your magic."