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Hohenfels Hall was doing a great job at exhibiting the Hohenfels mindset, Katharina found. It felt alien, even more so than the brutal simplicity of Eisengrund Hall. The moat and ramparts were just as anachronistic as the main castle itself, but that only served to enhance the sense of imposition it conveyed. She studied it for a few moments, taking in the atmosphere. It was obvious: The dorm’s designer was a masterful wielder of statements.
As soon as she crossed the drawbridge, a female servant hurried over to greet her. True to the dorm’s outward image, the servant was significantly more direct than the ones she was used to, while still maintaining appropriate deference.
She was led to the ‘training yard’, which turned out to be a simple field of dirt with a bunch of training dummies lined up on the side. It was empty, save for the Hohenfels heir who sat on a bench, writing something into a notebook. He looked up when he noticed her approach and rose, only to blink in confusion before catching himself. ‘What happened?’
He offered her a polite bow. “Good afternoon, Lady Katharina. I hope you did not run into any complications on your way?”
“Good afternoon, Prince Arnold,” she curtsied in return. “It went as smoothly as it could have. I took a carriage to avoid being seen on the plaza, but there is a good chance that someone noticed me coming here anyway.”
“Well, I suppose that is unavoidable. The fresh rumors should be a good enough distraction, anyway. It’s a good thing nobody in this dorm is interested in gossip.”
Lady Anne von Breisenhof – resident of Hohenfels Hall, embroidery enthusiast, and inadvertent cause of the engagement rumors – would beg to differ, but Katharina decided to keep that to herself for now.
Arnold’s eyebrow twitched, reminding her of his earlier surprise.
“Is something wrong, Your Highness?” she asked directly. Bluntness had so far been the most effective method of communication with him.
He furrowed his brows and fixed her with a stern look. “Pray tell, are you planning to train in these clothes?”
“Pardon?” she responded, scandalized. ‘These clothes’ were top-of-the-line dueling fashion for ladies, designed by the fencing prodigy himself: Count Jean-Pierre de Fleurdeaux! The jacket allowed for free movement while not looking out of place even at a casual soirée, and the elegant long skirt–
“You are aware that they will be full of holes by the end of the day, yes?” Arnold gestured at his own shirt, a terribly maltreated thing with more patches than original fabric. His trousers were in no better shape.
Fighting off the impending blush was an uphill battle, and Katharina soon gave up, choosing to embrace it instead.
“I… admit I did not think of that,” she mumbled sheepishly, doing her best impression of a naive young lady. To her great disappointment, Arnold gave her an unamused glance and waved to the servant, who had remained nearby.
“Show Lady Katharina to the armory and help her find something reasonable to wear,” he ordered with a tired voice. Katharina felt more than a little patronized, but she knew she had brought it upon herself.
She returned to the training yard twenty minutes later, now dressed in a green and gray training uniform, with the red eagle of Hohenfels displayed on its shoulder patches. Thankfully, this one had been designed with the female body shape in mind, so it did not quite feel like wearing a potato sack. Katharina did not miss the… appreciative looks her new outfit garnered from the Prince, and smugly filed that particular piece of information away for later use.
“Is this better?” she asked with a bright smile, prompting a nod from Arnold.
“Very much so. Here, take your pick.”
He pointed to a selection of practice swords he had laid out on the bench. They varied slightly in weight and size, but she soon found one that felt right in her hand. “Is this one good?”
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“You tell me,” he replied with a shrug. “I suggest trying out a few of them over the course of the evening.”
For now, Katharina was happy with her chosen sword, and she followed Arnold onto the field.
“First, a word of warning: I am by no means an expert with the smallsword. I do, however, believe that I am good enough to teach you how to look middlingly competent in the eyes of Princess Klara,” he explained. When she nodded in understanding, he lifted his weapon. “To start off, I need to assess your current capabilities. I would have preferred for you to spar against Friedrich so I can observe from the outside, but,” he gestured around in exasperation, “God knows where he is right now.”
Katharina did not find herself particularly perturbed at the prospect of not having to fight a man with the dimensions of a sturdy wardrobe.
“So, we’re going to have a mock duel?” she asked, taking up her stance as her instructor had taught her – left arm lifted behind her head, feet ready to lunge.
Judging from his expressive eyebrows, he was not impressed. “Indeed. Just come at me as soon as you feel ready. No magic, for now. And keep in mind, this is not about winning.” His own stance was, for lack of a better word, casual, with his off-hand behind his back and the sword held unceremoniously in front of him.
She lunged forwards, thrusting the tip of her blade towards his chest. He reacted with a quick sidestep, swatting away her sword and stabbing her with his own in a single motion. It hurt quite a bit, but he held back enough to not actually draw blood.
“Again,” he demanded.
They both went back to their starting positions, and she lunged again. This time, he simply grabbed her forearm mid-thrust with his left hand and twisted it until she let go of her blade.
“Hey! I thought you were just testing me!” she complained, not happy about the, in her estimation, unnecessarily rough treatment.
“This is part of the test,” he said nonchalantly, kicking Katharina’s sword up into his hand and returning it to her. “I need to know how you deal with this kind of situation. Now, again.”
She suppressed her urge to grumble about it and took up her stance once more. The result of her subsequent third lunge was much the same, but this time his counter actually caused a bloody scratch on her forearm.
“This is unfair. You’re obviously much faster with all your residual magic, how am I supposed to do anything at all against you?!” she pouted.
Arnold chuckled, irritating her further. “That is certainly true, but as I said: This is not about winning.”
Katharina had to take a deep breath to center herself. “I sincerely apologize, Your Highness.” Her heart was racing now, and her cheeks heated up once more.
“I am aware of your… competitive streak. I find it rather charming, actually,” he grinned broadly, which did not help with her embarrassment. “Let’s sit down for a moment.”
She tried her very best to compose herself during the much-too-short walk to the bench, where the Prince immediately ruined her efforts by taking her hand to examine the bruise.
“Looks like your regeneration is decent for a sil– central noble,” he said, unable to fully hide his smirk when he noticed her blush. Thankfully, he did not comment on it – but he was clearly enjoying himself. ‘I will get back at him for that,’ Katharina swore to herself.
“I’m happy to hear that,” she smiled, trying to force herself back into her usual mindset.
He actually laughed out loud at that. “You won’t be once you realize what that means for your training!”
“...Oh.”
“Still, I am glad to see that you haven’t forsaken corporeal magic entirely, like most Western ladies,” he allowed, growing more pensive with every word. Then, after he realized what he had just said, a flash of apologetic panic crossed his features.
Katharina interrupted him before he even got the first word out. “No need to apologize, Your Highness. My mother figured that I’d be, ahem, difficult to marry off after the incident, and decided to make better use of my magical talents instead. I’m fine with it,” she shrugged.
That decision had felt like a life-ending blow at first, but by now, she was glad about it. So what if it would be harder for her to bear children? In return, she would stay young and pretty for twice as long, be able to adequately defend herself, and most importantly, suffer only once every two months.
Arnold’s mien cleared up after her explanation, taking her at her word. “That’s good,” he said with a smile, once more highlighting just how different things were in the East.
“I’d like to test your magical control next,” he proffered while pointing at the practice dummies. “I’ll have to observe your aura directly, though… If you’re uncomfortable with that, we can skip that step.”
“No, that is perfectly fine,” she smiled, quickly lowering her obfuscation. This was perfect. If she could get a good feel for his aura here, it would make future probing attempts much easier.
She would just have to be particularly careful with her emotions for a short while.
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