Book 1: Chapter 16 - Test [Part 1]

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The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a man’s determination.

- Tommy Lasorda

“Why, I do believe I'm finally getting used to this... regime! I'm not dreading a session with the old man quite as much as before,” Eloise chirped, her voice gratingly bright for such an early hour. The morning sun cast a golden glow on her dark hair, and her eyes sparkled with newfound enthusiasm.

Of course you would, Seraphina thought, masking her irritation behind a pleasant smile. She considered delivering a scathing retort, but in truth, she felt much the same way. The healing warmth of her magic had brought her more relief than a hundred spa sessions ever could, melting away the aches and pains of their relentless training.

“Well, the Armsmaster did say you're quite a fast learner. It seems your body is too. Now, we mustn't forget that you'll also need to practice your other... more arcane skills,” Seraphina reminded her, a subtle hint of amusement dancing in her emerald eyes.

The haze and brutality of their training had caused Eloise to forget all about her newly acquired magical abilities. In this way, Seraphina had to admit, Armsmaster Kellan possessed a certain talent for demanding one's complete focus.

But was the stodgy old man being more demanding than usual? Seraphina's original memories of him painted a picture of a mentor perhaps only half as stringent during her formative years. Was this increased rigor a form of petty power play? No, that did not align with Kellan's character, she mused thoughtfully.

“Oh yes, Lady Seraphina, I most certainly will. I think today will not be quite as taxing as before. Of that, I'm quite sure!” declared the doll-like girl, puffing out what little chest she had in a display of confidence.

Seraphina gave her a truly radiant smile—the kind that was born from a feeling of well-placed superiority.

*****

Unlike the men training in her father's barracks, Seraphina insisted that the thick padded jackets they wore for practice sessions with Kellan be thoroughly washed and scented with lavender. The old man had voiced his objections, the extra steps seemingly frivolous, but on this matter, both she and Eloise stood firm. Both of the girls would rather die than put with the stench of old sweat.

The sessions were challenging—not because the techniques were difficult, but because Seraphina had to constantly keep her immense Strength in check. If she unleashed her full power, she risked causing serious harm to Eloise. Ironically, it reminded her of the old Seraphina's original predicament.

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For the past hour or two, Kellan had them sparring against each other, wielding small wooden knives coated in paint to mark where and how often they struck. To the smaller girl's credit, Eloise managed to score a point once every five bouts. This was more due to Seraphina restraining herself than any true display of Eloise's growing skill. Yet, despite this, Kellan showered Eloise with praise, remarking on every bit of improvement she made, further inflating her already swelling ego. If Seraphina did not know any better, she'd think he was doing it on purpose.

Feeling rather annoyed, she pulled Kellan aside.

"Do you enjoy testing me, Kellan?" she asked, her voice edged with irritation.

"You are not the Duchess de Sariens yet, milady Seraphina. I am still Armsmaster Kellan to you," he replied, his tone flat and devoid of inflection.

"Not a single word of praise for me? By the way you speak of Eloise..." She glanced over at the de Laney girl, sprawled against the wall in exhaustion. "...one would think the Goddess had descended and been made flesh."

The old veteran met her gaze unflinchingly. "You water only the plants that need it," he said evenly.

"Spare me the attempt at sounding wise and speak plainly," she interrupted, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Praise is a tool like any other," he explained. "You should give praise only to those who deserve it—or those who need it. Lady Seraphina, you know full well how far and how fast you have advanced. Giving you glowing words of praise would only stunt your growth."

The stubborn man was absolutely intent on continuing his metaphor, much to her frustration.

Her eyes flashed with fire at the compliment and rebuke. "Fine..." she conceded unwillingly. "But you have been harder on us than is your usual wont. Why?"

"I have treated the pair of you as I would treat the greenest of recruits. It is what you told me to do," he answered, maintaining his stoic demeanor. Yet Seraphina sensed he was hiding something.

"That's not quite it, is it, Armsmaster Kellan? Tell me the truth," the young noblewoman insisted, her gaze piercing.

Suddenly, as swift as a serpent, the older man drew a sharp blade from his waist and pressed the cold steel point against her throat. Seeing this, Eloise scrambled to her feet, eyes wide with alarm.

"I knew it in my bones, and now I know it to be true with my eyes. Your mother could have stopped me before my hand ever reached for my blade," he whispered into her ear, as close as any ardent lover.

Seraphina seriously considered killing the Armsmaster then and there; a single punch at this range with her full Strength would pulverize his ribcage. But the thought of having to explain away the situation made her decide otherwise.

"You don't have the Sight, milady," he continued, his voice low and measured.

Seraphina gestured for Eloise to stand down, who looked ready to bolt for help. "It's all right, Eloise. Armsmaster Kellan was just giving me some... advice."

"That is why I push you as hard as I do. I do so because of the love I have for you and your family. Your mother needs no guards—for what use is an assassin's blade when it can be seen before it takes flight? You will be at court alone, with only your lady-in-waiting and a minimal guard. I may be just an old man with a bit of skill with the blade, but even I can see the currents of intrigue that swirl around you. You must keep to that lie as your shield, milady Seraphina. And my training, humble though it is, must be your sword," he explained, his voice catching slightly, low yet filled with loyalty and conviction. "I am not in the habit of sending a girl into the lion's den undefended. It has been my long dream to be also be able to instruct your children."