The day had a slow start. Everyone was slow from the feast yesterday, and it was perfectly fine. I did my morning routine and once again decided to leave the choker on. I even put on the matching earrings and tied my hair in a ponytail. I made sure to keep one small piece or shard of every item from Earth I was wearing inside storage. Today I had training in the morning and work at home in the afternoon.

I opened the door to find Aristunn guarding it. I slimed at the devoted Eunuch. "Aristunn, you are promoted to senior guard. All guards and soldiers are now under your command. You are to set the schedule in order to make sure every guard that works during the day has eight hours of rest and every guard that works during the night has ten. Understood?"

He nodded but then paused. "We don't have clocks."

So clocks are a thing. "Are clocks expensive?"

He nodded. "Only the richest people in town have clocks. Hama-Tula didn't."

I was suspicious this world didn't have a twenty-four-hour rotation like Earth. It felt faster, about twenty-one hours if I had to guess. Measuring it properly would take a year at least though. I'd have to leave one of my devices outside to avoid the time freezing of the storage. One more thing in the list of stuff to do. A minor one actually. I glanced back at the room I slept in. It wasn't the master bedroom. I still didn't go there. I knew I'd have the whole place redecorated and furnished with new things. I didn't want to sleep in the same bed Hama-Tula did. Eww.

But that was also something that would have to wait. I had several things of higher importance than claiming the place. I went downstairs and found the children eating breakfast. Both groups, the girls from the caravanserai and Hama-Tula's children. Arwia and Belle were leaning against the wall separating the dining room from the kitchen and once they saw me, they stopped talking and seemed wary.

"Good morning girls. Good thinking with the children's breakfast. They have to eat a lot to grow strong. Keep up the good work."

Both girls stopped holding their breaths. "I told you, Arwia!" Belle playfully pushed the older girl away. "Sandra wouldn't mind if the children ate before her."

"She's right. Arwia, take your time. Get to know everyone. Don't mess with Nanna. And please, if you have any doubts, talk to me."

"Yes, mistress," The former barmaid bowed.

"And cut this mistress crap," they didn't understand my slang translated into Akkadian so I rephrased. "Stop that kind of treatment. I'm not a mistress. You are to call me by my given name. Sandra."

"That's improper!" Arwia protested.

"If you still think like a slave, girl," I approached her trying to sound menacing. "Then you will heed this! You will call me Sandra, that's an order!" I hugged her. For some reason, I was really needy of some human contact. "Arwia, arwia. In my world there's a fairy tale princess called Arwen, did you know?"

Belle snorted, "Your world has a lot of stories about princesses!" She commented.

"Oh, that they have. They have stories of princesses fair and wicked. Stories about kidnapped princesses. even stories of boys becoming princesses." Too bad I won't get to read how that one will end because I died before the author resumed writing it. "And I know the stories. I might tell them to you if you call me Sandra, you know?"

"If that's an order..." Arwia answered, clearly embarrassed.

"No! It is not an order, I was joking. It is a request. In this household, my word is not absolute, Arwia. Please. I'm just asking. Don't call me mistress, call me Sandra."

"Just do it," Belle pulled Arwia by the arm. "You'll get used to it. Give her a few days, Sandra."

"No problem. Belle, I'm hungry."

The cook giggled. "Right away, miss... Sandra!" She teased then dashed into the kitchen.

I took a seat between the children. Elbows rested on the table, I crossed my fingers and hid my mouth like some famous abusive father and secret mecha organization boss.

"Okay, kids. Now it is between you and me. If any of you brats call me mistress, I'll have to tickle you until you yield." I raised my arms and wiggled my fingers. The children laughed and squealed as children should. It was refreshing. "Good. Today I want you to play around and get to know each other. I don't care about your upbringing, in this house you are all equal. Tomorrow you'll begin taking lessons from Arwia with Rimush's help. You cool with that, 'champ?"

The boy stared confused. But he nodded. "I'll help! I can do it."

"Good. Look, my food arrived."

I ate breakfast and left for the training grounds with two guards as escorts. I was riding Penny and they were on horses that came with the estate. It was good that they came with me because I had no idea where the guard training grounds were. And by 'guard', they meant army. The town was a city-state, vassal to a bigger one but in most aspects an independent political entity. It meant that it had to have its own army. In times of peace, the army was responsible for enforcing the laws and patrolling the streets.

The training grounds were in the backyard of the big military complex. The building was made of sandstone bricks like the courthouse and my house. If I had to guess it could host a thousand soldiers. Plus or minus nine hundred. We asked for directions and a soldier stationed at the main gates directed us to a side street where we found a back gate. The sounds of metal clashing and hitting wood rang as we crossed the gate and took in the sight of the backyard.

There were hundreds of soldiers practicing. Some of them were running along a track that went around the complex behind the walls. Training dummies, archery range, muscular men with shirtless torsos glistening with sweat. This training grounds would give me diabetes from all the eye candy. But I was here not for mere sugary candy, I was here for the gold-topped seven-tiered velvety designer cake called Brandon.

I stood up on my stirrups and looked around. And there I found him, the golden top of his head glowing like a second sun. I sighed. If only he wasn't so stiff in the wrong places. Penny understood my wishes and clopped toward the open ground he was standing in. I got down in a practiced motion and patted the mare's neck. Penny seemed very happy and I remembered I had promised her to go on a ride.

"We'll go after I finish training, okay?" I told her. "Now be a good girl and keep watch over the other two horses."

She snorted and pressed her forehead against mine. I hugged her snout and let Penny go.

"Miss Rinaldi. You are late," Brandon spoke.

I took a good look at him. He was wearing a set of linen shirts and trousers with leather sandals. I was in my explorer outfit made of a cotton white shirt, brown cargo pants, and hiking boots.

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"I'm sorry, instructor Brandon. I had to find my way here but we'll come on schedule tomorrow." I bowed respectfully.

"That's fine. You are not that late. Today I want you to show me what you can do. We will talk about what weapons best suit your fighting style tomorrow. You might want to take off your jewelry."

I smiled and removed my earrings. He pointed at his own neck and I touched the choker. "It is welded shut. I'd have to cut it. Don't worry, it won't be a hindrance. I have to visit the goldsmith to get a proper clasp installed."

"Okay. We don't want to ruin the delicate piece though. Let's start." He took an unarmed fighting stance. "I want you to attack me. Don't worry, I won't fight back. Try to avoid dirty blows but don't pull back your punches. You may start."

I needed to get myself in a good fighting mood. I closed my eyes and remembered the voice of that recently-molted homewrecker social butterfly. How interested she was in Brandon. Yeah, that hit the spot. I did a series of warm-ups, noticing how flexible my body was. It felt like I was back in my rubbery fourteen-year-old body.

Once my muscles were properly stretched and warmed up, I dragged my legs into sweeping moves and got into a good Ginga. I could hear the berimbau and atabaques playing in my mind and I moved forward to attack. I fainted the start of a straight kick, benção, but retreated my support leg to the ground and spun the other leg around, delivering a roundhouse martelo kick. Brandon blocked with his forearm.

"Good speed and strength. Keep it up," He said and kept his guard up.

I kept moving around and my next blow was a pisão aimed at his shin. Well-delivered, it would put him off-balance. On the iron wall that was his body, it felt more like I was climbing him. His leg didn't budge. I threw a straight punch and he snapped with his right to grab my wrist. Oh, boy.

I stepped outside his immediate front as I twisted my hand to grab his wrist and clapped my other hand on the back of his. I put a twist on his wrist and pressed hard on his articulation, putting pressure on the ulnar nerve. Nikkyo, the second aikido technique. Wrist control. With his arm twisting as a natural reflex to avoid the wrist pain, I brought Brandon on his knees. I slowly returned his wrist to a comfortable position and released it. Taking a step back, I bowed.

He didn't leave his kneeling position, taking his time to rub his wrist. He divested his eyes from the wrist and met mine. I was worried. It's been some time I'd trained aikido and these techniques could cause serious injury if done wrong in a training situation. My worries melted as he opened a wide smile. putting pressure on his knee, he lifted his inverted pyramid of deltoids, pecs, and abs.

"Very good. Very good indeed." He clapped his hands. "I've never seen anything like that."

Brandon's gaze went sideways and I followed. Some soldiers came to see the captain training with a girl.

"Seems we have a crowd to please now," I joked.

"Indeed. I bet some of them would love to see me have my ass kicked by a 'lovely lady such as yourself'," He said. I must admit my memory blessing wasn't working very well. I might've embellished some facts.

I giggled. I felt electricity run through my arms. Maybe I was turning into Blanka. "Well, now I have to do my best to make it real. Come, big one. Prepare to the beating of your life."

He didn't raise his guard so I waited. "I heard you got your heart pierced. Was that true?"

"Who told you that?" I tilted my head, mildly annoyed my name was on the grapevine.

"The magistrate," He smiled.

"Well, do you think such an esteemed paragon of our society would lie? He didn't, by the way."

"Then you can take some punishment," He grinned.

'Yes, I've been a bad girl', I thought. "You can attack. Just don't break me."

"Here I go!"

The guy was fast for someone his size. That mass of lean human 3% max fat content meat came and I barely had time to deflect the first punches. The thing was, he was experienced, I didn't doubt he was in more than one bar fight, but he didn't have technique. I dodged, ducked, deflected, and took his blows, giving ground and circling around. I was flexible, agile, and both martial arts I trained focused on keeping oneself whole. Defending. I got some bruises from the raw potency of his punches and as the exchange moved on he stopped pulling his strength. The blows were coming at full power as if he was trying to hurt me for real.

Then he connected a perfect haymaker. I felt my jaw crunch and I spun first on the air then on the ground. I tasted blood.

"Sandra!" Brandon rushed to pick me up and hold me. "Medic!" He shouted.

I kept my lips shut and felt the teeth he dislodged shifting back in position. I was Dafne Keen. I swallowed the blood that pooled in my mouth and as my vision focused, I met his eyes and smiled.

"Sandra are you okay?" He asked.

My ears stopped ringing and I felt no more blood pooling in my mouth. I Decomposed the carbon out of everything in my mouth and swallowed the water and graphite. Sure I wouldn't show a bloody grin, I spoke.

"I'm okay. Don't worry."

He wiped the corner of my mouth. Oops, forgot the outside too. But it was risky. I could destroy my clothes. Then he showed me the bloody finger.

"I'm sorry. I overdid it," He shook his head.

I had to hold myself back. I wanted to take those lips, caress that golden scalp. I settled for a hug. I threw my arms around his neck and ignored some soldiers whistling.

"I'm fine. I told you. Don't worry. Don't blame yourself."

He let go and I slid out of his lap, hanging on his neck before I released and slid down to reach the ground. I slacked my jaw, held it and wiggled the bone sideways and back-and-forth. Then I grinned.

"See? Perfectly fine." He didn't answer. Brendan had a wry smile. "At least now you can believe that I was stabbed in the heart and survived. You wouldn't believe how much I bled. I'm tough and heal fast."

He chuckled. And he had dimples on his cheeks when he laughed. I was grinding my teeth to keep the squeal that threatened to come out. I had all the butterflies fluttering too.

"Good. Now I have a good grasp of what you can and can not do. Let's try a shortsword, okay? I've seen you with a longsword but I don't know if it is a good match. You are fast and the longsword will get in your way. Did you train with any weapons before?"

I trained the bo and katana with my grandfather and the facão in Brazil. Instead of trying to awkwardly explain it to him, I pulled my iPad and showed him pictures of me, training.

"This is me on my grandfather's training grounds. I trained with this sword, the katana. And also with this staff, the bo. And this... Is me training with the facão, a really long knife."

Brandon touched the device, turned it around to see the back and then gave up trying to understand it. He quickly learned to use the touchscreen and I let him browse the photos. My martial arts album had nothing that would hurt decorum.

"Very good form. I haven't seen this kind of sword but you have a good stance. It is a slashing weapon, and this armor... what is it made of?"

He gave me the iPad and I made it vanish in storage. "That is just some training protection. It won't hold in a real fight. So, what do you think?"

"The longsword is more for stabbing than slashing. I don't think you'll fight in large battles, so we can train you for duels only. If you show this to master Aran at the smithy, he might forge you one of these... katanas. You can definitely get a wooden one made and we can see how it fares. I'm very interested in seeing it in action."

I nodded. I also wanted to see it in action. But today was not the day.

He gave me a training sword and we did some basic sword drills. My grandfather was a traditionalist too and actually harsher than Brandon. I did the series he wanted, and It was a good workout. The only reason I wasn't a puddle of putty and sweat, in the end, was because of my self-healing power. But there was another problem. Brandon handed me a linen sleeveless tunic.

"Put this on. Your clothes are becoming transparent."

He was avoiding to look at me and instead was glaring left and right at the soldiers that were watching me train. My sports bra was showing through the shirt. I put on the tunic to avoid troubling him.

With my modesty protected, I did more exercises and two laps running around the compound. I used the pedometer in my iPod and each lap was about three and a half kilometers. And with that, morning practice was over.

I returned to where Brandon was and waited for him to finish giving some rookies soldiers some instructions. I was stealing precious time from the captain but once he saw me he basically kicked the recruits away and jogged to where I was.

"Are you done? Good. You need to stay under the sun more to get a good tan. So, visit the carpenters, get some wooden weapons made like the ones you showed me. I'll see you tomorrow, one hand after sunset. Don't be late."

My complexion does not tan. I just get red until the skin flakes off. But I kept nodding like an idiot as I took in his delightful voice and watched his Adam's apple bob.

"Okay. I'll be here. Thank you very much for the training, Brandon."

"Okay. Take care."

I summoned Penny and she ran to me. I didn't whistle though. I got up on my horse, smiled and waved goodbye to my fighting instructor and rode out with my bodyguards. I really wanted to go home and take care of some itch I was having but that would have to wait until tonight. Maybe not, that bedroom is not soundproof. Anyway...

We left the training grounds and went to the woodworking shop. It was near the smithy, less than a couple hundred meters away. There I showed the pictures and the measurements of the pieces I wanted. I paid in advance and they told me it would be done in three days.

With that our morning was done. My escort and I ate at some roadside food stall before we left west. It was time to get to know the countryside.