“Well, I can’t think why you would ever wish to leave. If I ever found my way into his lordship’s bed, all the soldiers in this castle wouldn’t be sufficient to drag me back out of it.” Antoinette advised Vero between mouthfuls of roast duck. “He’s the richest man in the kingdom. I’ve heard that even the crown owes him money.”

“As if one will ever collect that debt.”

“But surely- the king must have a lot of ways to get money, if he needs it?” Antoinette offered her reply tentatively, like a rabbit wary of a stepping into a trap.

“I’m certain he does, but suppose the king decides he doesn’t want to pay his debt with that money; then what is one supposed to do?”

Antoinette pondered the question, and evidently could not imagine an answer because she remained quiet while they finished dinner- which for Vero was actually breakfast. A kitchen servant took their silverware away. They need not have brought them in the first place, since neither Vero nor her maidservant were in the habit of eating with utensils.

“You won’t really be leaving, will you, my Lady?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

“I would miss you terribly if you ever left. Now that it’s spring there’ll be dances soon. I could take you to my village for the summer solstice, and we could go mushroom hunting together.”

“Mama and I used to go mushroom hunting together.”

“Please stay, Vero.” Antoinette watched her with pleading eyes.

“Perhaps I will. I told you; I haven’t decided yet.”

“Fortune favors the ungrateful.” Antoinette sighed to herself. “Some of us must get by with whomever we can.”

“And just who have you been getting by with?”

Antoinette turned a bright crimson, and she must have felt that she had said too much, because she could not be compelled to say any more. After eating, Vero waited idly by the window while she finished digesting, and watched the men sparring in the courtyard. Antoinette entertained herself with some needlework in the corner, where she diligently set about pricking her fingers and swearing quietly.

Vero knew it would be hard to bid farewell to Jean. She had not prepared herself to say good-bye to Antoinette. It was only once she had set her mind to doing it that Vero had realized what a dear friend the girl had become to her. Leaving seemed to be becoming more and more difficult. Why did they all wish her to stay?

Vero stood up and began to climb out of her dress. “Go and fetch me an outfit with pants and a shirt, please.”

Vero already tied the gown she wore into knots immediately after returning to her room, when she tried to loosen its vice like grip on her chest by herself. Now she had some difficulty getting completely free, even with assistance.

At last, they were able to get her out, and Antoinette redressed her in trousers and a doublet.

“Are you going riding?” she asked.

“Sparring.”

“For the gods’ sake why?”

Vero could not think of an answer, but she left for the courtyard anyway. As she left the bedchamber, she nearly stumbled into a serving boy from the kitchens, carrying a tray of sweetbread.

“Terribly sorry my Lady- I was told to bring these… bring them to you, my Lady. The man said- he told me that the Marquis ordered this brought up from the kitchens… for you, my Lady.”

The whole business struck Vero as rather unctuous, so she dismissed him with a wave. “Of course, he did.” Then she called out to her maid, “Antoinette, take care of the lad and we can eat the sweets together when I get back.”

“But they’ll be cold then,” she objected.

“It’ll be fine. And don’t you dare eat them without me.”

“As you say, my Lady.” If Antoinette was making an attempt to hide her sulk, then it was a poor one.

Vero left them and hurried out to the yard. There, she walked over past the practice ring to where the training swords and tough leather pads were stacked, and looked for some that would fit her size. The marshal noticed her as she crossed the yard, and he approached to speak with her as she was putting on her pads.

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“Lady Veronique, I don’t mind telling you that I don’t like this. I’m not so prejudiced against your order or- listen, I won’t deny that you know many unique fighting techniques… some people have said you’ve put the Marquis under some kind of spell, but I don’t believe it.”

“Who’s said this?”

“I would only lend credit to the rumors by spreading-” Vero caught him looking past her towards the stands before he stopped himself. “Frankly, my Lady, I cannot let one of my men hurt his lordship’s mistress. And I won’t have them wasting time playing at fighting while trying not to strike you.”

“Tell them I expect them to try and hit me, and if I get hurt then it’s my own fault.”

Ser Henri grumbled something Vero could not hear – although she could make a fair guess at its content – and he returned to the others.

Once her pads were on, Vero noticed that the Marquise Marie and her maids had come down to watch the exercises. Most of her maids seemed bored by the experience, but a small number of them looked to have favorites in the sparring ring and watched the training with great interest. Some of the revelers from yesterday’s long feast also came out to join them, seeking fresh air to clear their hang overs.

Vero approached the wooden stands where the Marquise seemed very pleased to see her. “Greetings, Ser Veronique. Shall you be tilting today?”

“If this were a tournament – and had I a lance – I would ask for your favor, my Lady.”

“You shall carry my favor in spirit then, if no more. At least for now.”

Vero noticed the Earl of Kaer Longus in the back of the stands, along with the others recovering from the night’s festivities. Although he did not seem to be suffering as badly as his fellows.

“Is something wrong?” The Marquise must have noticed a sour expression cross Vero’s face.

“No, my Lady. It’s only that I asked Jean to do something for me last night and he seems to have forgotten.”

“Oh? That’s very unlike him. He had a lot to drink last night, and was at work right away this morning. It must have slipped his mind.” The Marquise face grew a small half smile. “Perhaps you can gently remind him this evening.”

Vero left the stands and approached the entrance to the ring. The sparring stopped, and she became unnervingly aware that everyone in the yard was watching her. Plucking up all her courage, she marched into the center of the circle and looked over to where the marshal and his soldiers were gathered.

“Which one of you is first?”

Each of the men traded glances between themselves, ranging from the awkward to the dismissive.

Eventually one of them, a mountain of a man, stepped forward grinning. “If you’re all too frightened to fight the little girl, then I will.”

The man looked to have giant’s blood in him, and was armed with sword and shield. Vero turned away a proffered shield of her own in favor a keeping a small parrying dagger in her off hand. There was plenty of room in the ring for several groups to be fighting at once, but everyone seemed to be taking the opportunity to gawk at the oddly matched pair.

Since they were all watching, Vero felt bound to give some sort of instruction. So she began, “This is a fair sort of matchup, since a slayer expects to be fighting something possibly much larger – and definitely much stronger – than themselves.”

The giant bowed with a faint blush. “Thank-you, my Lady.”

“Because of this, slayers rarely fight with a shield. In our trade it's usually our intention to evade rather than block directly which, even under ideal circumstances, is still likely to leave you with a broken arm.”

Vero assumed a fighting stance and the giant did the same. They circled each other, but despite his earlier boasting, the giant appeared to be disinclined to attack her. Vero stopped and began to lecture again.

“A slayer also expects to be underestimated by a creature which sees ‘just a human.’ A knight may naturally recoil at receiving such disrespect from an opponent, but your enemy’s lack of awareness is nothing but a weakness you can-”

As she expected, the giant had stopped to listen to her speak. When she relaxed her guard, he had instinctively done the same. She did not waste a moment, but attacked as soon as she noticed his concentration lapse. She darted forward, while at the same time turning and swinging with all her might at the back of the giant’s leg.

She knocked him down to his knees. Momentarily lost in anger due to his pain, the man let out a roar and tried an awkward spinning sweep to hit her. She easily side stepped the blow. Vero landed another strike of her own along the side of his head, which left him dazed long enough to continue her lecture.

“After his initial surprise, he then made a hasty unthinking move to cover his mistake and save face- which I also took advantage of. If these had been real swords, the first strike would have crippled, and the second killed.”

The giant punctuated her lesson with a laugh, and returned to his feet. “I deserved that for being such a chivalrous fool. I won’t worry about hurting you- if we spar again in earnest?”

Vero nodded and resumed her fighting stance. The giant did the same. This time he did advance on her. He swung with careful discipline and it was not so simple to step out of the way. He was no longer holding back and pressed her with deliberate strategy. She tried a few strikes of her own, but he easily warded them off with his shield.

As the battle continued, Vero found herself barely staying out of his reach, while he carefully worked her towards the fence. Then, once he had left her no place else to go, he moved to finish her with a single powerful blow and a cry of victory.

Vero performed a feint and vanished, leaving the giant to strike the ground where she had been with an overanxious swing. She was already behind him, and left him with a long slash along the entire length of his back before he could turn.

They returned to their starting positions.

“Your opponent will always be a willing partner in perpetuating the lie of their own superiority. Your task is to lead them forward. And be sure that when you do strike in earnest, that it is always a decisive blow.”

A shout came from the crowd, “I’ve heard slayers know techniques for fighting multiple enemies at once!”

There was no indication who had spoken, but Vero nodded. “Very well.”

The giant eased his way back into the group. “The Marquis’ mistress has embarrassed me enough for one day. I’ll let other men have the honor.”

“How many?” One of the soldiers asked.

“As many as you think is fair.”